One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(52)
“Is he here?” Carina asked. There was no need to clarify who he was.
Haylie huffed. “No, which I’m sure frustrates the fuck out of you, seeing as how you were trying to get him arrested.”
“We want you to be safe. That’s all,” Carina said, staying calm.
Haylie released a hard bark of laughter. “No, I’m pretty sure you just want him to go to jail, but nice try. You’ve had it out for him since the first time he asked me on a date. You won’t be happy until I’m alone and he’s gone so you can keep your status as the perfect one. You don’t think I know what you’re all about?”
“Haylie, please. This isn’t about me.”
But Haylie was having none of it. She spun on her heel, flung her apartment door open, and slammed it again behind her.
A silver-haired neighbor poked her head out of the door and looked at Carina with wide, frightened eyes. “Wendell took off before the cops got here, right after I got off the phone with you. I hope she’s not mad I called you. If you could not tell her it was me who got in touch with you, I’d be much obliged. And a tip for my troubles wouldn’t hurt nothin’ either.”
Carina nodded. “I won’t tell, but you did the right thing by calling me. Thank you, Mrs. Cordera.” She rifled through her purse and pulled out a handful of twenty-dollar bills. Mrs. Cordera took the offered money and tucked it into her pants pocket. “I can’t take it anymore, the two of them at each other’s throats all the time. I feel for that girl because she’s got a nasty dog for a man, but there’s no peace around here anymore.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“We’re working on it,” Emily added.
With a harrumph, Mrs. Cordera disappeared behind her closed door.
It took longer for Carina and Emily to smooth the ruffled feathers of the sheriff’s deputies. They didn’t seem to have processed that Haylie Halcott was a Briscoe, or who Carina’s high-profile father was, which was all for the better. Anything to keep Ty from making the situation worse.
In the end, the deputies agreed not to charge Haylie with any crime, and to swing through the apartment parking lot whenever possible, to keep an eye on the situation. After many thanks, Carina and Emily mounted the stairs again and let themselves into Haylie’s apartment.
The place smelled of cleaning products and the savory scent of braised meat and tomato sauce. It was also dark, which wasn’t surprising. When you lived with an abuser, you tended to keep the curtains closed. Even Emily’s parents’ two-story penthouse apartment with expansive views of Lake Michigan had the ambiance of a cave unless company was present.
Other than the darkness, Haylie’s apartment decor looked like so many acquaintances’ apartments where Emily had bunked down after she ran away from home. Dull white paint on the walls punctuated by the occasional plastic-framed poster print, and decorated with a mishmash of worn furniture, inexpensive white bookshelves, and colorful plastic storage solutions and beanbags that looked better suited for a college dorm room.
Magazines were strewn on the short, tightly woven brown carpet as though they’d been knocked off the coffee table. Broken shards of a crystal vase were scattered over the living room floor near the TV stand, with carnations, daisies, and baby’s breath strewn among the pieces.
Emily could feel Haylie’s manic effort to appease Wendell and keep up the appearance that she was a happy wife. Nausea tightened her throat and tingled her sinuses. She knew that behavior. She’d grown up watching her mom tie herself into knots to keep the peace in their house.
They found Haylie in the small kitchen, looking out the back window and absentmindedly stroking the ear of the tiny, black and white dog in her arms—Twinnie, the teacup puppy Haylie’s parents had gotten her and Wendell as a housewarming gift.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Haylie said without turning around.
“No,” Carina said, gently but firmly.
With a haughty sniff, Haylie tucked Twinnie in the crook of her arm and walked to the refrigerator. From deep in the recesses of the lowest shelf, she pulled out a chocolate candy bar. Emily took note of her trembling fingers as she unwrapped it and bit off a huge chunk. She closed her eyes, as though the chocolate’s medicinal effect was washing through her.
“He’s going to come back for dinner and you can’t be here,” Haylie said, her eyes still closed.
So tempting to start in on a lecture about how Haylie deserved better than a man who would be upset to find Haylie’s family and friends visiting. Instead, Emily said, “We won’t stay too long.”
Carina looked like she wanted to say all the same things Emily was holding herself back from pointing out, but instead, she lifted the lid of the crockpot next to the stove. “Is this beef stew? It smells wonderful. You’ve really become a great cook.”
Emily opened a drawer in search of a spoon. “Mind if I try it? I’m always on the hunt for new stew recipes.” Which was a total lie, but it was a relief to have a neutral topic to cut through the tension.
“Don’t taste it,” Haylie said. “I spit in it.”
Carina’s eyes went wide. “You what?”
Haylie shrugged, then set Twinnie on the floor. “I came home on my lunch break to put dinner in the crockpot and caught him watching porn again, so this is what he gets.”