Right Where We Belong (Silver Springs #4)(51)

Savanna found the same article on her phone and texted the link to Gavin along with a note that said, This is the girl. She needed to talk to someone, especially him after what’d happened last night, but when she didn’t hear back right away, she assumed he’d gone to bed.

After a final check on her kids, and a silent prayer that Branson could get through the night without another accident so he wouldn’t feel so terrible in the morning, she told herself to be strong. She couldn’t start leaning on Gavin. She couldn’t lean on anyone.

She was just putting on her nightgown when she heard her phone ping. Although she feared it might be Dorothy, or even Detective Sullivan giving her some last-minute warning or instructions for tomorrow, it was Gavin.

Are you okay? he’d written.

Relieved that he’d responded, she sat on the bed. The way dinner had gone, she couldn’t help but question what he was thinking and feeling. I’m fine. A little nervous about tomorrow, is all.

Want me to come over while you talk to Gordon?

Don’t you have to work?

I could go in late. I have more sick days than I could ever take.

I’d rather not burden you with that. Just wanted you to see the girl. I wish I could say he’d never target someone like her, but I can’t. She’s beautiful, don’t you think?

No question. But he had an even more beautiful wife waiting for him at home, so that doesn’t explain it.

Reading that made her feel so much better. Somehow, intertwined with all the other emotions she’d been experiencing lately lurked the depressing thought that she hadn’t been enough for the one man she’d tried to give everything.

Thank you for being so kind.

It’s true. Are you sure you don’t want me to come over tomorrow while you take that call? For moral support, if nothing else? I’d like to make sure that detective doesn’t push you any more than he already has.

I shouldn’t even have to talk to Sullivan tomorrow. He’s set everything up. I’m supposed to text him if the call comes in, and that’s it. He’ll get the recording from whoever handles that sort of thing at the jail.

What if the call doesn’t come in?

I wait until it does. Then I text him. But now that you’ve offered to help...

What can I do?

Because of what I might have to say to get Gordon upset, I’d rather not have the kids around to overhear the conversation. If you really wouldn’t mind missing a little work, it would be nice if Branson and Alia could come to your place for that hour when he’s most likely to call.

When do you think that will be?

I sent a text to his mother earlier, told her to have him call me at ten. I think he’ll do that if he can. I’ve never requested a call before, so he should be curious if nothing else. Anyway, if I’m here alone, I’ll be able to go after him the way the detective wants me to without having to watch my words and language.

Are you sure you want to do this, Savanna?

I don’t see any way out of it. I have to help Emma’s parents, if I can. And if I’m going to help, I might as well go all the way. Make it count.

The kids can certainly come here. I’ll take them to the park in town to see the ducks and get ice cream.

You don’t have to go to that much trouble. They’ll be excited just to hang out with you. :)

I’d rather make it fun so they’ll want to come back.

He didn’t understand that simply being around him was fun—for all of them. Thank you.

She hoped he’d continue the conversation. The more contact she had with him, the more contact she wanted. But he wrapped up the conversation with No problem. See you tomorrow.

*

“Who was that?”

As he put his phone back on the nightstand, Gavin glanced over at Heather, who was on the other side of the bed. When his screen had lit up, he’d waited a few minutes, hoping Heather would fall asleep. They’d been lying still for fifteen minutes or more—he deep in thought. But it was too much to hope for that she wouldn’t notice his text exchange. That it was such a long one didn’t help. He would’ve sent Heather home except she was now claiming to be afraid of Scott. If she was truly afraid, if Scott had threatened her as she claimed, he didn’t want to put her in a bad situation, especially now that she was pregnant. And he couldn’t give her his bed and sleep out on the couch, even though he would’ve preferred it. That would’ve offended her for sure, since they’d made love so many times in the past.

Hopefully, once he’d gone without sex for a while, he’d be more interested in getting intimate with her again. It was just too soon, an awkward time, given everything that’d happened recently.

“It’s no one,” he said.

“Who would text you this late?”

“My mother. Eli. A gig. Any one of my friends. A lot of people. It’s not that late. It’s only ten.”

“So was it Eli? Or someone else?”

“It was a friend.”

“Which friend?”

He punched his pillow. “Heather, I’m exhausted. Can we go to sleep?”

She fell silent and remained that way for so long that Gavin finally began to drift off—only to be jerked back to consciousness when she said, “Something’s wrong. It’s different with you this time.”