Page 146 of Love Without Control

Tears filled her eyes but she nodded vigorously. “I love that. I’ll get started on a logo design tonight. Oooh, we could have lots of foliage and 3-D apples hanging from the trees. What do you think about red and green for the colors? Not like Christmas green; something a little softer.”

“I’ll like anything you come up with. We can ask Auburn about interior decorators, and you can work with them.” I could see her mind filling with ideas and feel the excitement thrumming through her. My wife loved a project.

“Have you talked to Fiero today?”

“This morning before breakfast. He said the house is fine.” A smirk slipped across my lips. “He asked about Charlisse no less than three times while we talked.”

Eden’s eyebrows lifted in two perfect arches. “I thought they looked a little cozy at the Christmas party. She hasn’t said anything about it though.”

“Guess we’ll see when she goes back to Marathon. I’m glad she agreed to help Maria and Barry run the bakery. I don’t want to sell it because it belonged to Charles and Mimsy.”

“And Maria is prepared to talk to the staff once news about thereturn of Evie Bouviergoes public?” she asked wryly.

“She is.” We’d shared parts of our story with her so the staff at the bakery wouldn’t be blindsided by the news. None of the gory details like my true identity, just the basics about Eden’s kidnapping and our decision to go into hiding to ensure her safety. Maria had been very sympathetic and understanding. I only hoped everyone else would be as well.

“And she’ll talk to Maz? I don’t want everyone I worked with to think I was some kind of shady character.”

I kissed the tip of her nose. “They won’t. Everyone there adores you. They’ll understand the concept of self-preservation. It’s innate in humans.”

“So, we’re really doing this, huh?” she asked, gazing around at the apartment that would soon be our new home.

“As long as everything goes okay with the FBI this afternoon.”

Because for all I know, I’ll be in jail by the end of the day.

Evie and I walked into the FBI offices behind Kassie Bouvier, who marched like a goddamn boss when she was in lawyer mode. She was dressed in a black suit jacket, pale-green top, and sleek black pants. It looked like the outfit had been tailor-made for her pregnant frame, but considering she was married to a designer at one of the largest fashion companies in the world, that probably wasn’t too far off the mark.

Evie wore a simple floral shift dress and sandals, while I was in a light-blue dress shirt and khaki pants. It was strange wearing dressy clothes after we’d been existing mostly in beach bum wear for seventeen years, but Kassie had selected our outfits for us. She said we looked demure and trustworthy.

We were shown into one of those interrogation rooms with the one-way glass along one wall, and Kassie sniffed her disapproval as we sat. “Well, this is fancy. I didn’t realize this was an interrogation.”

The older agent, dressed in a dark-brown suit, heaved himself into a chair across from us. “When one of the best criminal defense attorneys in the state calls and requests a meeting, we really like to roll out the red carpet.”

Kassie's lips curved into something a little sweet and a lot sharp. “Why, thank you, Agent Saunders. I accept your compliment and your hospitality. This isn’t actually a criminal matter though. It’s more of a…” She tapped her chin in mock-thought. “Let’s call it a courtesy call. I’m here to let you know that one of your cold cases has been resolved.”

The other agent, a guy in his thirties with sandy hair and a goatee, leaned forward with his forearms on the table. “Which case?”

Kass looked down at her fingers, running a thumb back and forth over her smooth, pink nails in an oh-so-casual manner before raising her eyes back to the agents. “The disappearance of Evelyn Bouvier.”

The younger man, Agent Peters, looked confused, but Saunders’s posture instantly went ramrod straight. He’d apparently been around long enough to remember the case.”

“And how exactly has it—” He froze when his eyes landed on Evie, who was sitting on a padded chair between me and Kassie. The man leaned forward so far, his stomach was practically flush with the table separating us. His mouth gaped open like a fish, and his sharp eyes narrowed and then widened as his composure slipped. “Holy shit. You’re Evie Bouvier.”

“I am,” she agreed.

Saunders leaned back and rubbed a hand over his receding salt-and-pepper hairline, his eyes never leaving my wife. “Jesus, how long has it been? Fifteen, twenty years?”

“A little over seventeen,” Evie specified.

The man had soulful brown eyes, but they held the edge of calculation, and I had no doubt he was good at his job. “Wow, okay. And who’s your friend?” he asked, gesturing toward me. I did my best to appear unaffected, like Kassie had directed.

“This is my husband, Dane Osbourne.”

He didn’t appear to recognize me, and I sent a silent shout of thanks to Robert and Jamie Smith for their excellent disguise skills. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

“I was taken by human traffickers,” she replied calmly, and the man’s lips turned down at the corners.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he said with genuine regret and sincerity in his tone. “We figured it was something like that. You didn’t fit the profile for a runaway.”

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