“Did you just call Ed a tattletale? Marisol, this isn’t a joke. This is serious.”
Oh, she didn’t like him calling her by her full name.
He gave her a stern look. “What were you planning on doing if Ed wasn’t there? Would you have called me then? Or were you planning on walking all the way into town, in the dark and cold? Would you have called me when you got to town? The next morning? At all?”
His voice was cold. Hard. She’d never heard him sound like that. Or look this way. He could be firm. Even stern. But nothing like this.
“You’re angry with me,” she whispered, wringing her hands together. She didn’t like that he was so upset with her. Unlike Rosalind, his anger ran icy cold rather than fiery hot.
She guessed at least he wasn’t yelling at her. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he did that.
“I’m upset with you. Do you know why?”
“Because I didn’t call you? But I was going to call you. I tried to when I was walking towards the road, but my phone was dead.”
He let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Okay, that’s something. I want you to know that you can always call me if you’re in trouble. No matter what the time is or what I’m doing. I’ll drop everything for you, Mari-girl.”
Okay. Wow. That was unexpected.
“The entire drive here all I could think of was the ways you could have been hurt or harmed. It was torture.”
“I’m sorry,” she told him.
“What happened? What made you leave your aunt’s house on foot at night?”
“I’d like to know that as well,” Ed said, walking back into the room.
“She hasn’t told you?” Linc asked him.
“Not exactly. She just keeps telling me that she’s fine. Figured she’d tell you, though.”
Linc leaned forward, staring at her sternly. “You’re going to tell me, aren’t you, Mari-girl?”