He grunts. “And the woman?”
“She’s an old lady. I don’t remember whose exactly, maybe the road captain or the VP.”
“What did you mouth to her at the end?” he presses, “what did you say to make her back off?”
A shaky laugh escapes me. “You’re imagining things. I didn’t mouth anything. I was begging her to leave me alone, that’s all.”
His stare sharpens. He doesn’t believe me. I know it. I haven’t had enough time to weave the perfect story that kills his suspicions. Have I lost his trust? Have I ruined everything with my lies?
My phone vibrates in his hand. The sound jolts through my chest like a gunshot. “Is it Blake?”
Tristan glances at the screen, and venom twists his face. “Worse.”
“Who?”
He flashes the phone in my face. His lip curls like the words taste rotten. “Your stalker.”
Jacob.
I reach for the phone, but Tristan jerks his hand out of reach before my fingers even graze the screen.
“Give it to me,” I snap.
“No.”
“I have to take that call. What if it’s about Gia’s case? What if he has something we need to know?”
He doesn’t hand it over. Instead, with a muttered curse, he thumbs the call open, puts it on speaker and holds the phone between us. Then he tilts his chin at me, challenging me.
“Birdie?” Jacob’s voice spills into the room.
“H-hey,” I answer, my glare on Tristan.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for days? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yes, I’m okay.”
“Thank God. I was worried sick.”
Rolling his eyes, Tristan exhales another curse.
“How are you holding up?” Jacob asks, not in his detective tone. It’s warm and caring. How could he be the same manviolating me in my sleep, the one caught on camera in a hoodie and a mask trying to break into my decoy safehouse?
“I’ve been better,” I say.
There’s a pause. “Birdie, listen. I came across something.”
“About Gia’s murder?” I ask warily.
“About Blake Abel, your husband.”
My eyes widen at Tristan. His expression sharpens. He prompts me to keep the conversation going. I clear my throat. “What about Blake?”
“It’s hard to explain on the phone. I need to see you in person. I tried your new location and your house, but you weren’t at either. Where are you?”
Tristan’s head jerks up, eyes narrowing. He mouths it across the charged space between us, “Don’t you dare.”
Is this call another ploy to pinpoint my location? Jacob once called me at the weirdest time of the day and asked me where I was. I’ve suspected him then, and now, I feel exactly the same way I’ve felt. The weight of my secrets and trust issues presses down on me all at once.