Officer Howard turned my way with a whispered tone. “Who else did I see when we first entered?”
“They work for us,” Van answered. “Margaret Curry is local. Michael Ricks is new.”
Both officers nodded. “We’ll be on our way,” Patrol Officer Howard said. “Have a good day.”
Once they’d gone and we’d watched them get into their car, I turned and wrapped my arms around Van’s torso. His arms encircled me as I laid my head against his chest. When I looked up, he was staring my direction.
“That was crazy,” I said.
Van reached for my hand and teased back the sleeve of my sweater. “He asked me if I’d hurt you.”
“You haven’t.”
“I thought about our Christmas dinner.”
I pushed the sleeves up to my elbows. “See, I’m good.” A smile lifted my cheeks. “Satin, remember.”
“Last night…”
“Van, they wanted to know if you abused me. You haven’t and you won’t. If enjoying sex beyond missionary were a crime, the jails would be filled.”
His smile bloomed as he lifted my chin. “I’m not sure of the statistics, but I like the way you think.”
“I don’t think. I know. I love you. I woke up wondering how I could possibly have enjoyed what we did as much as I had. My second thought was wondering what I could do to provoke it again.”
He kissed my forehead. “What Phillip did yesterday went too far, Julia. I heard what you said about a cycle of retaliation, but I can’t let this go. Phillip needs to be stopped.”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded. “I agree. I’ll call my dad back. I know, I’ll send him one of our private emails. Hopefully, he’ll finally believe it’s me.”
“Connie tried to have your old number switched to the new phone. Your name isn’t on the account.”
“I’ll talk to him about that too. Aren’t you supposed to be at the office?” I asked.
“I am, but I’m not leaving you.”
“I’m fine. Michael and Margaret are here.”
Van’s forehead furrowed and his nostrils flared.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Officer Stewart put a trace on your phone.”
“My old one?”
Van nodded.
“Your private investigator said he knew the hotel in Chicago where Phillip was staying.”
“Your phone is pinging in Ironwood.”
My heart sped up as my mind scrambled with geography. “I don’t know all the towns around here.”
“Ironwood, Michigan. It’s about forty miles east.”
“Michigan?”
Van nodded. “Wisconsin State Patrol doesn’t have jurisdiction. They’re contacting the Michigan State Police. If this goes further, it will be a federal issue.”