Patricia mock fainted. ‘You’re lucky it’s not 1950. You’re being… safe?’
‘Ma. Seriously.’
She checked her phone again and, to no surprise of Luca, found it was still dead. She tossed it aside. ‘I’m just saying. I might want grandkids one day.’
‘Ask me again in a few years.’
‘I will!’ she said. ‘Tell me about her. Properly. Not the quick version you gave me over the phone.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Everything. What's she like? Is she good to you? Are you good to her?’
Luca pulled at a loose thread on his sleeve. How to distill Ella Dark into words? How to describe a woman whose mind retained everything it absorbed, who could recall every detail of every crime scene she'd ever witnessed, who sometimes woke up gasping from dreams where the dead visited with questions she couldn't answer.
‘She’s great.’
‘That’s all I get? Great?’
‘There’s a lot to mention. I don’t know where to start.’
‘I’m here all week, so take your time.’ She stood and headed for the kitchen. ‘You eaten? I was going to make some eggs.’
‘It's almost midnight.’
‘And? Last I checked, eggs don't know what time it is. So when am I going to meet her?’
‘Are we still on that?’
‘We sure are.’
‘You can meet her whenever. You could come to D.C. if you want.’
Patricia barked a laugh. ‘Me? In the city? I’d rather sit on a cactus. Bring her up here.’
Luca knew hewasn’t going to win this battle. His mom would have made a great attorney because she had an answer for everything. The worst part was that her answers usually had merit.
‘Alright, I’ll see if she wants to come down. Have you seen her? Want to see a picture?’
‘Oh, I’ve seen her, honey. We all have.’
Luca thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. ‘I’ve shown you her? When?’
‘I saw her on the news not long ago. Something down in Louisiana? She helped put that killer on death row. Creed was it?’
The world suddenly slipped away, and Luca was transported back in time. A memory surfaced of him sitting on the sofa with Ella at home, and then being at HQ, and then searching the office for something.
Something Ella had lost.
And it had all happened right after her trip to Louisiana.
Luca grabbed his cell, found Ella's name, and hammered the screen. He ran to the back door.
‘Chops, honey. Is everything okay?’ his mom asked.
But Luca was out of the door, into the garden, desperately needing to get five bars of signal on his phone.
He suddenly knew exactly what was going on.
‘Pick up, Ell. Pick up!’