Pretty Little Wife(95)
Pete exhaled. “Yes, sir.”
“Yes,” she said without rolling her eyes, which she thought was a huge triumph.
“You’re both on leave. I don’t want to see either of you for a week. Not a word to the press or that woman with the podcast. Prove to me you can follow orders, or you’re fired.” He looked down at his desk blotter and treated them to a shooing gesture. “Get out.”
SHE WALKED OUT of the office and made it halfway to the coffee before Pete’s voice stopped her.
“Ginny . . .”
She turned around and saw the panic on his face. The frown and the furrowed brow. Time to be the bigger person—again. “It’s fine.”
Pete swore under his breath and took a step closer to her. “It’s not.”
Actually, it wasn’t. It might never be. “We have to work together, Pete. Political types will come and go. They don’t wander out in the field or put their lives in danger. We do that. And I need to be able to trust you.”
“You can.”
She snorted. “It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.”
“I messed up, but I get it now.”
She doubted it. “What do you get?”
“Lila. Your reaction to her.”
“Huh.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. Explain.”
“Seeing her there, holding on to that screwdriver in a death grip . . . It was as if she thought if she let go, then Jared would rise from the dead and attack again.”
Ginny could picture it. She hadn’t been in the room but had no trouble reliving the moment with him.
“A piece of her probably did believe that.” Pete’s pained expression pushed her to elaborate. “Imagine being her and having your life destroyed by your father’s betrayal. By him doing the worse thing imaginable. Then his actions steal your mother away, leaving your trust and sense of safety irreparably damaged. Your life gets flipped again by your husband and the one person you think you can trust—your brother-in-law—turns out to be the worst of them all.”
He was wise enough to wince at the factual scenario she laid out. “What does that do to a person?”
“Beats them down. Without getting help, probably made them more vulnerable to snapping.” That’s what Ryan’s notes had said. Lila had never dealt with the loss. She’d pushed it down, ignored it, and the PTSD had festered until her sense of what she needed and her reality skewed.
He whistled. “So, what happens now?”
“Nothing. I stay home for a few days and annoy my husband and son.”
“No way.” He scoffed. “Wait, you’re serious? You’re going to give up?”
With the trust gone, the last thing she wanted to do was share any part of her thinking with Pete. “You heard the boss.”
“Since when do you follow orders?”
But she did. That was the point. In the past she’d paid for it. A millionaire’s wife had paid for it. She’d approached this case a different way, which made walking away so difficult. “I’m not losing my job over Aaron and Jared Payne. I wouldn’t lose it for Lila either.”
“That’s not what I thought you’d say.”
“I’ve learned my lesson.” She almost smiled. She could imagine her husband’s reaction if she tried to sell that line to him.
“Nah.” Pete shook his head. “You’ll be watching the case.”
“Of course.” And a weeklong break would give her the opportunity to learn one last thing about Lila and her life before she let the case go.
Chapter Sixty-One
Eleven Days Later
GINNY MADE IT MORE THAN A WEEK BEFORE HEADING BACK TO Lila’s house. She thought people should praise her for that. Lila’s neighbor stalked across the lawn and met her before she reached the door. “You need to leave her alone.”
The only thing that kept her from yelling was the possibility that Charles would find out about the visit and fire her. “I’m just here for a final wrap-up. No questions.” She held up a hand in mock surrender. “I promise.”
“If you want to help, clear them off the street.” Cassie stared at the media vans and press congregating at the end of Lila’s driveway.
They would move on soon, enraptured by some new horror, and leave Lila alone. But she could help the process along. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Cassie rolled her eyes and stomped away. “Yeah, sure.”
When Ginny looked back at the house, she saw the front door was open and Lila stood there. She couldn’t remember a time during this whole mess where she’d stood on her front porch.
Ginny walked up the driveway toward Lila. The first thing she spied was the sign on the lawn. The next was the open curtains on the front windows.
“Visiting with my neighbors?” Lila sounded amused at the idea.
“You’re moving?” Not what Ginny had intended her first question to be, but it worked.
“Being here is not exactly comforting.”
Ginny smiled at the sarcasm in Lila’s voice. “It’s hard being a hero.”
“Tell that to my cracked rib.” Lila put her hand against her side.