Chapter 127
Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Seven
Robin
Lunch arrives a few minutes after Harper devours his last piece of chocolate. I’m just tasting my first piece of the salted caramel when the cook from the cafeteria rolls in her cart.
“I brought your favorite,” Pris says. “And there are plenty of other options for you all, too. Enjoy!”
“Thank you,” I reply, hoping she can’t see the bar I’m hiding behind my back.
I slip it into my back pocket as I savor the taste in my mouth.
Shayne lets the cook out and closes the door behind her.
“It all smells amazing,” Harper murmurs.
He lifts the lid off a plate of toasted sandwiches and picks one up.
“It’s really hot,” he admits before he even bites into a corner.
Shayne shakes his head. “You’re going to burn your tongue.”
“Mmm,” Harper moans.
“I guess he’s hungry.”
“He’s almost always hungry,” Shayne tells me. “But so are the rest of us.”
He looks under another lid and picks up a chicken nugget.
“This is more my speed.”
He eats it in two bites and picks up another.
It all looks good, but I don’t think I can stand the idea of eating something savory while I still have the sweet taste of chocolate in my mouth.
“I think I’ll grab a glass of water.”
I head to the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.
“I wonder if she forgot the ketchup,” Shayne says, as he goes to the peephole, lid still in hand.
He looks at me. “I think it’s the detective.”
I forget the water. He opens the door, and I see Detective Waterman standing there, looking like she did the first time we met, in a long coat with a dark-colored shirt and pants underneath. Her badge is on her belt, and her expression is sombre.
“Hi, Robin,” she says. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I invite, stepping back at the same time as Shayne.
He holds the door for her, and she steps into the suite.
“Am I interrupting lunch?”
“Not really,” I tell her. “I’ll eat after.”
Shayne closes the door and puts the lid back on the nuggets.
Harper’s almost done with his toasted sandwich.
“Please,” she says. “Don’t let me stop you. We all need to eat.”
“I’m fine,” I insist.
She looks at Harper and Shayne.
“Did you want to talk in private, or …”
“They can be here. We’re mated.”
She blinks at me. “Okay. I can see some things have changed since I was last out here.”
“We can sit down if you want,” I offer, pulling out one of the kitchen chairs.
“This won’t take long,” she says.
“Okay,” I murmur, getting nervous.
I don’t know why I feel so worried.
I knew what she was looking for.
I know why she would come to see me.
It’s like I don’t want her to say it.
My mom is dead. I know she is. I’ve known for years.
Maybe I’m just afraid to hear it said out loud.
“We found a potential burial site,” she starts. “At a second property owned by Ivan Hamilton.”
“Was the site searched?” I ask, watching her face for clues.
Her expression is flat. Her tone is so even. It’s kind of strange.
“I think I need a little nap,” Harper murmurs as he moves toward the couch, staggering slightly.
Shayne frowns as Harper basically collapses onto the couch.
“Harp, are you okay?” he rushes over there.
It feels like everything is moving in slow motion.
I look back at the detective, and suddenly I know.
I’m not looking at the woman who sat next to my bed in the medical ward weeks ago.
I’m looking into the cold eyes of a killer.
This isn't Detective Waterman. This is Warren Corvina.
She smiles at me, taking out her gun. “They’re never going to find your mother, and they won’t find you, either.”