Unspoken (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3)(114)

Chase saw the fear widening her brown eyes. She kept one hand on the wiggling infant in the baby carrier.

“We aren’t saying you have,” Burnett said. “We just need to ask you a few questions.”

“I file for citizenship. I wait for my papers. But I have to work now, my baby need diapers and to see doctor. Her daddy not help me.”

“Ms. Galvez, we are not with Immigration,” Chase said. “We do not care about your papers. We are investigating the man who owns the house you just cleaned. We need to know about him. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “I do not know him well. I work for him only two months. I get job because I cleaned the house for the se?ora who live there before. I go to clean the house the day she move out and he see me and ask me to continue to clean for him. He and his friends come and go.”

“How many of his friends stay with him?” Burnett asked.

“Many friends.”

“How many approximately?” Chase asked.

“Sometimes twelve, sometimes eight. House only have four beds. They sleep on sofas and on floor.” She leaned in. “They make big mess. Not very clean people.”

Burnett leaned forward. “How often do you clean the house?”

“Every two weeks.”

“No one was home today, right?” Chase asked, just making sure.

“Right.”

“Is that unusual?” Burnett asked. “Is he usually gone? How does he pay you?”

“He sometime there, sometime not. I like it better when he not home. He leave money on kitchen table.”

“Was your money there today?”

She nodded. “I tell him, no money, no clean.”

Chase looked at Burnett and knew the man was thinking the same thing. No way would Stone leave money for the maid if he’d skipped town.

Burnett looked back at the young mother. “Do you know where he works or where he might be when he’s not there?”

She shook her head. “I not get too friendly with my men clients.”

“But have you seen something in the house that could have told you anything?”

She shook her head. “I sorry, I do not know.”

“Thank you,” Burnett said.

“I go now?” she asked.

“Yes,” Chase said. “And if I were you, I’d stop cleaning for him.”

She stood. “Is he bad man?”

Burnett nodded.

She exhaled and Chase saw in her eyes that she needed the money from the job. She walked away with the baby carrier that almost looked too heavy for her. She didn’t appear to be much older than him.

“Wait.” Chase pulled out his wallet. “Thank you for speaking to us.” He handed her all the money he had in his wallet. Probably only a couple of hundred, but it might hold her over until she found another cleaning gig.

She looked hesitant.

“Please take it. It’s reward money for speaking to us.”

“Thank you.” Nodding, she took the bills from his hand and walked over to the counter to order her lunch.

“I’ll pay you back,” Burnett said.

“You don’t have to,” Chase said.

They started out.

“Sir, sir.” Mrs. Galvez came hurrying over to them. “I just remember. Last month, I take my sister to help me clean. She see Se?or Stone and some of his friends at his house. She tell me he has another house next door to one she clean. The next week I ask him if he want me to clean other house, too. He tell me he not own other house. I think my sister has good eyes. Maybe he has a friend who own house.”

“What’s the address?” Burnett asked.





Chapter Forty-seven

“I need your help.” Della dropped down in the chair in front of Holiday’s desk.

Pity, empathy, and a whole shit-load of emotions filled the camp leader’s face. Della could tell the fae was aching to touch her to try to ease her pain. But sometimes pain was a good thing. It forced one to focus on the problem. Maybe even to find a solution.

“You got it,” Holiday said. “Anything. What do you need?”

Della picked up a pen from Holiday’s desk. The words sat on the tip of Della’s tongue. All she had to do was spit them out. She clicked the pen. The tiny noise filled the small office. Click. Click. Click.

“I … I need you to help me plan my death.”

Holiday’s eyes widened. “Anything but that.”

“That’s not acceptable.” Della frowned. Click. Click. Click.

“But Della—”

“You gave me your word that if I tried it your way—that if I attempted to stay connected with my family and it didn’t work, you’d help me fake my own death.” She put her finger back on the tip of the pen. “You even helped Jonathon.”

Click!

“Jonathon’s home life was dysfunctional.”

“And mine’s not? My father thinks I could slice and dice a sweet ol’ neighbor and her husband.” She gripped the pen so tight that she thought she heard the thin plastic crack.

“What about your mother, Della? And your sister. You love them.”

Della felt a lump form in her throat. “Why the hell do you think I’m doing this?” Click. Click. Click. “They’ll be better off without me. If I’d done this when I first came here, none of this would have happened. My dad wouldn’t be on trial for murder.”