Page 95 of Fortune's Control
“I don’t think she understands English.” Lilah glared at me. “Except for her. She’s the exception.” I chuckled at Lilah’s appreciative nod.
I had worried about Pirate, too, and Lilah, knowing how important a pet was to her. The cat was her first, and she considered herself a failure for losing it. I understood that, but also guessed cats slipping out of open doors wasn’t uncommon, especially for a former stray.
“That’s correct,” Lilah said.
I never considered myself to be a cat person. We had dogs growing up, and I had considered taking a trip to the local shelter to adopt another one, probably an already trained senior. Pirate’s arrival so soon after Lilah’s made me feel part of a family again, returning a sense of belonging lost to me since my parents died. “How do you feel about dogs?”
“A dog? Would you want a dog?” There was something in her tone I didn’trecognize.
“I’ve thought about it.” I removed my shirt and rubbed the strained muscles above my left knee.
“Let me.” Lilah moved my hands to take over the gentle kneading. “Does it hurt? You wore the prosthesis longer than you should have.”
“No more than usual.”
“Then take a break tomorrow. It’s not just tired muscles I worry about, because you’ll damage your skin if you aren’t careful, and you’re stubborn. You can ignore doctors, but I’m here and can bark orders as well as you.”
My heart fluttered at her words. She’d challenged me earlier tonight, while Pirate was missing. I’d wanted her to stay safe, and, to be blunt, she’d wanted the opposite.
Following her to Willard’s gas station remained the best decision of my entire damned life. “I’ll try,” I said. Lilah’s eyes snapped from my knee to meet mine, and I gave up. “You win. Less time tomorrow.”
“Do you think it was him?”
I patted my chest and allowed her to settle against me. “Your hair is damp.” I smoothed it back as she nuzzled against me. “Are you asking about tonight and the trash we found?”
“Either I left the back door open, or someone let her out. We don’t eat way over there, and we especially don’t leave trash on the ground.” Lilah considered the possibilities and arrived at a shared conclusion.
“I think it doesn’t matter.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s no way to know, so we assume it was Sandy Cooper’s killer, at least until we can prove otherwise.”
“If that’s the case, he knows where we live.”
“I plan to install cameras and motion-sensor lights. Both tasks are overdue, so thank you for giving me the excuse. You also won’t be alone. Either me or someone I trust. That part doesn’t change.” Lilah craned her neck to look at me, and I traced one eyebrow and then the other. “What is it?”
She shook her head. “I want to call the defense lawyer tomorrow and tell him I think Wilson Skane is innocent. The police aren’t interested in what I say, so we’ll go elsewhere. Maybe he’ll listen, and maybe he won’t, but we need to try.” Pride filled me at the strength in her voice.
“Do you want me there when you call?” I would be, but I wanted to give her the chance first.
“I’d like you there as my cheerleader. Nothing else.”
“Should I bring my pom-poms?” I smirked at the ridiculous image. “You won’t be alone. Ever.”
Dean’s updates sat on my phone, and her grandmother would appear at the library tomorrow for a book club meeting. After learning about Sarah Jane Mayberry, I wanted to avoid causing her daughter more pain.
“I have updates for you.” I forced the words out because telling her now limited my ability to protect her later. “Which one do you want first? The good or the not-so-good?”
Lilah’s frown bared her teeth. “Yuck. If you’re asking, then the not-so-good is horrible. Tell me that first.”
“Dean asked his friend to look into unsolved cases for us.” Her face fell. A part of me preferred delaying until tomorrow to give her a relaxing night, unbothered by it all. I pressed on. “He found two cases, both dating back more than a year. Both victims had short hair and wore glasses.”
“That’s the same as Sandy Cooper.”
I raised my hand to slow the conversation. “It may be nothing. We don’t know. Many people disappear every year.”
“Could I see?”
