“You wouldn’t.” But looking into his dark eyes, noting he’d shaved and the cleft on his chin seemed sexier than she’d remembered, she knew he would. “I’ll never get the truth about this pageant—which could have bigger significance, legally—if you give me away.”
“I’m not going to do that, Bella, but we have to agree to the precautions that will keep you alive.”
“You make it sound so dire.” She was trying to be casual, to appear as though she could take whatever pageant involvement threw at her. But she couldn’t ignore the quivering in her belly, the wobbly feel to her knees. Bella was scared.
“It is. Or will be, soon enough.”
“How can you be so certain? You don’t even know if the man who attacked me is the same person who murdered those other women. Or if those victims were killed by the same person.”
“Actually, we’ve had DNA evidence begin to trickle in.” It’d been a month since the last murder, in Tucson, and they had some evidence being revealed. “There was matching DNA at both murder sites.”
“One a poisoning and one gunshot, right?” She recalled reading the initial reports of each murder as they came across the local online paper’s front page.
“You’re informed.”
“It’s my job. Plus I’ve been paying attention to the pageant scene over the last several months.”
“When did your friend pass?”
He remembered their conversation in the staff room. It meant he hadn’t been treading water, using the time to win her over to his point of view, or reveal what she knew only for his benefit. It might even mean he cared.
Scratch that—it’s his job to remember. To observe.
“Almost a year ago.” It felt like yesterday and ten years ago at the same time. “She was very sick for the last year, and dragging for the previous five. I can honestly say I haven’t seen her as the Gio I once knew for at least seven years or so.”
“All from malnutrition, due to her eating disorder?”
“Mostly, yes.” Bella didn’t want to discuss Gio’s long battle with mental illness, the struggles to get her friend in to the right professionals, from psychiatrists to therapists, all trained to expertly treat a young woman for the severity of her eating disorders, anxiety and depression. By the time Gio found a treatment center that worked well for her, it was too late. She’d starved herself so much that the nutritional depletion to her brain had destroyed her ability to see herself as she really was and not through the lens of body dysmorphia.
“You must have seen a lot with your friend, while she suffered like that.” His compassion brought tears to her eyes.
“You speak as if you understand what Gio went through.”
“No, I don’t have any experience with eating disorders, but my grandfather had cancer and after over ten years of fighting it, died last year.”
“I’m sorry, Holden.”
“Thanks. It’s always hard losing our loved ones.”
“Yes.”
They sat in peaceful silence and it didn’t escape her that this was what she’d always thought other people had, what they deserved, when they found that one person to go through life with. Quiet and a simple acceptance of one another’s presence.
But she had done little in her life to earn a whole lot of quiet moments, and rest wasn’t something she wanted. Not until she got to the bottom of what had triggered Gio’s life-ending issues.
“You get that there’s a killer who’s most likely involved in this pageant, and sees you as their next victim, right?” Holden’s words underscored the frivolity of her imagination. So much for quiet respite free of worry.
“I do, but frankly, I don’t have a lot of memory of being attacked.” Her hand went to her throat. “I heard his weird voice, then yours, and then it’s a blank spot until I was in the ER.”
“It’s normal for your mind to block out unpleasant memories. And being attacked is traumatic.”
“True.” She put her hand on his. “I’ve got this, Holden. I know you’re the security and law enforcement expert. I trust you and I’ll do whatever you tell me I need to, to stay safe and help you keep everyone else safe.” She removed her hand. “Is that what you wanted to hear from me?”
“Do you mean it? Because I need you to know that it’s paramount that you don’t go anywhere alone with anyone until we catch the killer.”
“I do.”
“But?”