Chapter Nine
There was blood. So much blood.
Livvy could feel the panic taking over. She needed to run. To escape. To put some distance between the blood and herself. But her legs wouldn’t move.
And God, she couldn’t breathe.
“It’s okay,” she heard someone say.
A familiar voice. Familiar words. From Ethan.
Then, there was something else familiar. His arms were around her, warm and strong, and he had pulled her to him.
That jolted her awake, yanking her out of the nightmare. Again. It was the same dream but worse. So much worse. Because she’d been the one dead in the bathtub. It was her face. Her lifeless eyes.
Her blood.
“It’s okay,” Ethan repeated, and he eased back enough to meet her gaze. “You’re all right now.”
His voice soothed her. His eyes. Everything about him worked its magic, and she felt the icy chill leave her bones.
She wouldn’t dare tell him about the details of what she’d just dreamed. No need to put those images in his head, especially since he was already worried about the baby and her.
Livvy looked down at the parts of their bodies that were still touching.
Her breasts were against his chest. She was braless and wearing the loose night tee that she had picked up from her place before coming here.
But no sleep clothes for Ethan. He was dressed in his usual jeans and shirt. Ready for work.
“You were awake,” she muttered, thankful that her nightmare hadn’t gotten him out of bed.
He nodded. “It’s nearly eight.”
Sweet heaven. She never slept that late, and her attention fired to her phone on the nightstand to verify the time. Yes, it was 7:55. By now she was usually at work or on her way in. But Grace had told them to stay put until they heard otherwise from her, so Livvy hadn’t set her usual alarm.
“You should have gotten me up,” she said, moving back from him and tossing off the cover. Not the best idea she’d ever had because the sleep tee had ridden up, showing her panties and baby bump.
And Ethan noticed all right.
She saw the mix of emotions swirl in his eyes: The heat and the love for their child. Some discomfort, too, since this had to remind him of the night they had sex and she’d gotten pregnant.
Livvy quickly wrestled with the tee to shove it down, and she got up from the bed. “Have you gotten any updates on the case?” she asked. She’d showered right before bed, so she headed straight into the en suite bathroom to change into the clothes she’d left in there.
“A few,” he replied, and she heard the dread in his voice. “None good though. We still haven’t been able to get a search warrant for the records or inside New Hope.”
Livvy made a sound of frustration even though she’d expected it. Yes, Zadie’s body had been found at the house that had once belonged to New Hope, but they hadn’t owned the property in over twenty-five years. Which meant New Hope’s connection to it was all circumstantial.
“No hits on it yet, but Eden’s got a working list of former clients, surrogates and employees at New Hope,” he went on, “and she’s divvied it up among all the deputies and reserve help. She emailed us our share about thirty minutes ago.”
Good. They could get started on that right away. And maybe they’d get one of those hits. All it took was one to blow this investigation wide open.
“The CSIs have processed both the murder scene and the grounds of New Hope and haven’t turned up much.” Ethan continued with the updates. “They did find some motorcycle tire tracks on a trail behind New Hope, but Hank Stover didn’t own a motorcycle.”
Livvy considered that a moment. “Are you thinking the tracks were made by someone else?” Because their working theory was that Hank had attacked Sunny and then tried to murder her in the hospital.
“It’s possible. We might be after several hired thugs,” he said, spelling out what she knew they had to consider.
She finished changing into her jeans, top and boots and came back out to find him sitting on the foot of the bed. Their gazes instantly connected, and yeah, there was the heat. The worry, too.
“What’s wrong?” she couldn’t ask fast enough.
He took several moments to respond. “I looked back through all of Isabel’s medical records that I have here.”
Oh, heck. “I’m sorry. That had to be hard for you.”
“It was,” he admitted. “She kept a spreadsheet of appointments, health-care providers and treatments. And there were some more things in there that she hadn’t told me about. Some herbal experimental stuff.”
Since it’d been one of those experimental things that’d ultimately killed Isabel, that had to have struck a nerve or two.
Livvy went to him. She sank down on the bed next to him and took his hand in hers. It was a risk. When it came to Ethan and her, touching and intense emotions didn’t always lead to good decisions. But she wanted to comfort him as he’d done to her when he’d woken her from this latest nightmare.
“What wasn’t in the file was anything from New Hope,” he went on. “And I know she went there at least once. Since I doubt Vernice will spill any details about that, I want to go to the source. I want to speak with Chloe and Franklin and demand to see Isabel’s record.”
No need for her to point out that the record could have been destroyed.
Or that Chloe and Franklin could simply refuse to hand it over without a whole lot of legal wrangling—and that could give them time to remove anything that might be incriminating or questionable.
Still, Livvy understood why Ethan needed to do this, and she wanted to help with it.
“I’ll go with you,” she said, and it wasn’t a suggestion. She would be with him on this.
He nodded, muttered a thanks under his breath. “I texted Grace and told her what I plan on doing, and she gave a reluctant thumbs-up.” Ethan checked the time. “I’d like to leave after you’ve had some breakfast.”
Livvy was all for that, and even though she wasn’t hungry, she had made a habit of eating something healthy each morning for the sake of the baby.
Ethan had obviously considered that, too, because when they went into his kitchen, she saw the breakfast tacos in the cast-iron skillet on the stove.
He dished her up one, added a glass of milk and took a bowl of fresh, cut-up fruit from the fridge.
Obviously he’d made good use of the time he’d been awake.
“Thanks,” she muttered, sitting in the breakfast nook. The taco was still warm and delicious.
Ethan took a bite of one, too, and he moved the laptop onto the table so they could both see the screen. “I’ve only researched one name on the list that Eden sent,” he explained, pulling up the email. “Chrissie Anne Waterton.”
Anne. That jumped right out at her, and Livvy stopped in mid-bite of a peach slice.
“I don’t think this is the woman mentioned in Ivy’s diary,” Ethan was quick to assure her.
That eased some of the sudden tightness in her chest, but Livvy still fixed her attention on the name and the handful of details that someone—Ethan, no doubt—had added there.
“There’s no record of her ever having a daughter,” he explained. “Only two sons who are now in their early twenties. She was a surrogate at New Hope about thirteen years ago.”
So, the timing didn’t match either. Still, she might be able to tell them something. “Will we talk to her?”
“Eden and Grace will do the interviews once the backgrounds have been complete. Most will happen over the phone. But for any with possible red flags, Grace wants to visit them in person.”
That made sense, and Grace might be able to tell if the person was trying to hide something.
“How many names do we have on our share of the list?” she asked and then continued eating her breakfast.
“Eighteen, and it’s a mix of clients, staff and surrogates.”
“Eighteen,” she repeated, realizing that the list had to be huge since it would have been divided among about a dozen people. And more names would likely be added as info came to light in the interviews.
“None of the other women on our list is named Anne,” he told her. “But Eden said she has a couple who are high priority for her.”
Yes, priority because this Anne could be connected to Livvy. “I’ve thought about who my mother might be,” she admitted. “And considering the nightmare, I have to believe something…bad happened to her. If that’s her in the dreams, that is.”
He stayed quiet a moment. “Have you thought about working with the police sketch artist to recreate the face, and then we could try to match it to someone in the missing persons database?”
Livvy had thought about that. And had dismissed it because it’d seemed too terrifying to try to voice all the details. But not knowing was terrifying as well.
“I can do that,” she managed to say though the muscles in her throat had gone tight. Before she lost her nerve, she texted Grace to approve it. “I’d need you there with me for that.”
“I will be,” he assured her, and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he brushed a kiss on her cheek.
She hadn’t needed that kiss, this moment to know just how important Ethan was to her. Steady as a rock. Her best friend.
And she was falling in love with him.
Oh, she had fought that, hard, because with their horrible pasts, their kind of friendship was a lifesaver.
Still, she couldn’t stop these feeling. The lust mixed with the love.
And Livvy was afraid it was going to lead to a broken heart.
Because Ethan might never get over Isabel’s death.
He might never be able to love another woman.
Yep, a broken heart was in the cards for her.
Her phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts, and Livvy became instantly alarmed when she saw that it was someone from the hospital. “Deputy Walsh,” she couldn’t answer fast enough.
“It’s me, Sunny,” the caller said.
“Are you all right?” Livvy asked, putting the call on speaker.