Page 17 of Sinful Deception

And when I pull out my phone to discreetly Google what that means, since it would be impolite to ask in front of Fletch, the first thing that pops up is that the basilar fractureis the worst skull fracture to have.

Fuckin’ awesome.

Minka deserted Fletch’s chair around an hour in, choosing to perch on my lap instead. So when I swipe my phone screen and dig deeper into a world of words I don’t know, she’ll stop myscroll every now and then and wordlessly point at things I guess I should know.

Occipital.

And later,renal failure, when the doctors come to inspect the bag attached to the side of Jada’s bed. It’s supposed to be filling with pee.

It’s not.

“Should I have Mia brought in?” Exhausted, Fletch pulls out of his slumping posture and cracks his back until the pops are audible. “She’ll know something’s up because I wasn’t at the apartment when she woke.”

“She’s used to you running out for a case,” Aubree murmurs. Tim long ago dragged another chair into the room, so he now matches my posture with Aubree held tightly to his lap. “She won’t think anything is out of the ordinary until at least dinner time.”

“Should I bring her here at dinner?” He drags his eyes to hers and blinks. Slowly. Owlishly. “She deserves to see her mom.”

“No.” I clear my throat after hours of silence, swallowing a ball of phlegm and hating the slick slide as it works its way to my belly. “I don’t think you should bring her yet. Not while she’s this beat up, and not until the doctors have a better idea of what’s happening. She’ll have questions, and until we have answers, it wouldn’t be fair to put her through this.”

“Am I supposed to just go home in a few hours and pretend everything is normal?” He searches, desperately, for someone, anyone, to guide him. “Leave Jada here and act like nothing happened?”

“I think you should try not to fret about later,” Minka answers carefully. “You’re twisting yourself up about something that hasn’t arrived yet. Be here now, and deal with later, later.”

“Knock knock.”

I peer to my right and narrow my eyes when a couple of cops step through the door and stop just past the threshold. They’re not in uniform, which means they’re detectives. One recognizes another, even if they don’t recognize the face.

“Which one of you is Charlie Fletcher?”

I shift Minka off my lap and stand, long before Fletch can summon the energy to do the same. Then, I move to the foot of the bed and become the first line of defense and my family’s representative in a world that feels foreign.

“Have you arrested Nathan Booth yet?”

The detective in the front, the younger, more arrogant one, looks me up and down and lands himself on mycan’t stand this pricklist within a single second. “You’re not Fletcher.”

“No. I’m Detective Malone. Downtown Copeland City PD. Fletch is my partner, my brother, and a man desperately attempting to support the mother of his child right now, so if you want to speak, I could probably help you out. Though, I’d like to think you’ve brought us news, and not questions.”

“Hopes and dreams,” the detective whistles, rocking onto the backs of his heels and adjusting the belt of his jeans. “Hopes and dreams. I’m Detective Balladae.” Then he hooks a thumb over his shoulder and gestures to his partner. “Detective Elen. Midtown. We’re investigating Ms. Watson’s attack and would like to speak with Charlie Fletcher before we move forward.”

“So you have no answers? You’ve got noth?—”

“It’s fine,” Fletch rumbles, lifting his chest, but not standing. They’ll get his bare minimum. “I’m Charlie Fletcher. The sooner you ask your questions, the sooner you can get Nathan Booth off the street.”

“Why do you assume Nathan Booth attacked your ex-wife?” Elen takes out a book and pen, the way we’ve done a million times over the years. “Did he threaten her recently?”

“You mean, apart from the time he put her in the hospital a few months ago?” Aubree’s hackles rise as she pushes up from Tim’s lap and stands on my left. “This is not the first time she’s been hurt, Detectives. But at least last time, she was awake and able to speak about what had happened to her. It boggles the mind that Booth has remained a free man to wander the streets and attack again.”

“We didn’t run the case last time,” Elen smirks. I swear, he wants to finish his sentence withLittle Lady. “But we’re here now, and it would be naïve of us not to investigate every angle for the poor woman lying in that bed.”

“I know you’re not implying Fletch to be one of those angles,” I snap. “Do your job, boys. Use your brain.”

“We are,” Balladae counters. “And our brains and trainingalwayspoint us toward the husband first.”

“Wait.” Minka comes to a stop on my right, so now we create a wall. A shield, blocking Fletch and Jada out. “You think Fletch put her here? Are you stupid?”

“Were you with him all night?” Elen questions, sidestepping her barb and laying down his own trap. “Can anyone in this room confirm, under oath, that they were with Charlie Fletcher at the time of Ms. Watson’s attack?”

“I was alone,” Fletch sighs. He turns only his head, warming the back of my neck as he looks this way. “I was with my daughter, but she was asleep by eight-thirty.”

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