Page 50 of Daddy's Arms

“I—” Olivia drew in a shaky breath. “Thank you. I remember her being very sweet to me that day. I’m glad she thought the same of me.”

“She was sweet. I worried about her, all the time, whenever she said she was meeting someone at a house.” Without warning, the woman surged forward, her eyes suddenly too bright, a little too wild in her pale face. “You be careful. Please be careful.” She looked up at James, and the desperation on her face nearly broke him. “You keep her safe.”

“I will, ma’am,” he managed past the fear clawing at his throat.

“Good.” And just like that, any trace of emotion disappeared from her face, leaving her an empty shell once more. “That’s good. Thank you for coming.”

With a hand firmly at the small of her back, James guided Olivia away and out a side door. When she began to tremble, he led her to a couch away from the rest of the mourners. She dropped down, as if her legs simply couldn’t hold her a second longer and looked up at him, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“I didn’t know. I should have gotten her number, or kept in touch somehow. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened—”

“No.” The word lashed out of him like a whip, and she visibly cringed. Silently cursing himself, he knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his own. “No, baby. You couldn’t have stopped this. It’s a tragedy, and there wasn’t anything you could have done to stop it. Okay?”

She closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I guess. I just don’t understand.”

He opened his mouth to tell her he didn’t understand either when a shadow fell over them. Irritated by the intrusion, he looked up to find Detective Michaelson standing over them.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry to bother you.” Michaelson’s voice dripped with the same fake sympathy tainting his smile. “But we need to talk. The director is letting us use his office.”

“Can’t this wait?” James snapped.

“No, I’m afraid it can’t, Mr. Monroe. There’s been another murder.”

Chapter18

Detective Michaelson’s words had Olivia jerking her head up to stare at him. “What? When? Who? Oh, god.” Tears burned in her eyes and clogged her throat. “Shannon? Is Shannon safe? I haven’t talked to her today. James, what if—”

“Ms. Wright is waiting for us,” the detective interrupted. “If you’ll just come with me, please.”

Relief knocked the air from her lungs. “Oh, thank god.”

Pushing to his feet, James held a hand out to her. “Come on, baby. I’m right here with you.”

Daddy’s here.She heard the words as clearly as if he’d said them. Leaning on that bit of strength, she slipped her hand into his and let him pull her to her feet. Together, they followed Michaelson down the hall to the office. The other detective was there, along with Shannon and a woman Olivia vaguely remembered from the shoot. Shannon looked up when they entered, and her red-rimmed eyes went wide with shock.

“Liv!” Rushing over, Shannon threw her arms around Olivia’s neck. “They said there’d been another murder and they wouldn’t tell me who and I hadn’t seen you.” Voice cracking, her arms tightened around Olivia almost to the point of pain.

“I’m here.” Olivia rubbed her back, doing her best to soothe her friend. “I’m right here. I’m fine.”

“I know, I just—I need a minute. God, Liv, I was so fucking scared it was you.”

“It’s not me. I’m right here, Shay.”

“Okay.” Shannon pulled away and wiped at her eyes before slipping an arm around Olivia’s waist. “Okay,” she repeated softly.

James moved to her other side, lending her some more of his strength. God knew she needed it. Even flanked by her husband and her closest friend, she was terrified of the news to come.

Michaelson closed the door and walked to stand by his partner, the pair of them eyeing the small group before Rogers spoke. “This afternoon, we received a call alerting us that Nancy Black had been found dead.”

“This is fucking ridiculous.” The brunette in the corner, the one Olivia only somewhat remembered meeting, glared at the detectives. “Why haven’t you caught this asshole yet?”

“We’re pursuing all viable leads,” Detective Rogers replied.

The brunette sneered. “By locking us all in a room to tell us someone else has been killed? What the fuck good is that doing?”

“We wanted to alert you all before you heard from the media. And we’d like to urge the three of you,” Michaelson looked around the room, locking eyes with each of the three women, “to be extra vigilant.”

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