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“An acquittal means your client can’t be recharged,” I say. “This doesn’t.”
“It’s still a good thing,” Cat says. “They have a weak case that you exposed in court. They really would have to have something big to recharge.”
“My source is good,” Royce says. “Martha did it. They found gun residue and DNA. That said, Dana needs to proceed cautiously with Reginald until he’s officially cleared. He could plant evidence on her.”
“Does that mean that you think he’s involved?” I ask.
“I don’t,” he says. “But we can’t know for sure. Martha linked them. We have to be sure that link is broken before we call him innocent.”
“I need to go talk to Dana,” I say. “Which means I need to change.”
“I’ll give you a ride,” Royce says. “I can share my concerns if you think it helps.”
“Cat’s the one that gets through to her,” I say, eyeing her. “But you have a deadline, right?”
“I really do,” she says, “but if you need me once you’re there, call me and I’ll come over.” She frowns. “I’ll just ride with you. I can sit in the hotel lobby and write, and then if you really need me I’ll be there.”
“You sure?” I ask, concerned that she’s pushing herself, on top of all the stress. I don’t want to lose this baby or her. “You’ve been really sick.”
“I’m good. I feel okay right now.”
I eye Royce. “Give us ten minutes to change again.”
He nods. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
I give him a wave and Cat and I head to the bedroom. Once we’re there, she steps in front of me. “What was that down there?”
I cup her head, wanting to tell her I know, but now isn’t the time. “A husband who loves his wife and wants everything with her?” I kiss her. “Let’s go and get back. We have a date for pizza, no olives or wine, and I intend to keep that date.”
She laughs. “Suddenly I think I might want the olives.”
And I think I might just want her. Forget the pizza, no wine. We can’t get this meeting over and back home soon enough for me.
Chapter eighty-three
Cat
“How much can I reveal?” I ask as Reese and I settle into the back seat of Royce’s SUV, both of us now in jeans and button-down shirts. “I need to call my editor.”
“Scoop it, baby,” I say, squeezing her. “It’s out tomorrow anyway.”
“Don’t name me as a source,” Royce says. “But otherwise, go for it.”
I grab my phone. “My editor is going to have an orgasm with no man present.”
Reese and Royce both laugh. I punch in my editor’s number and she answers immediately. “I was about to call you. Word is they’re searching houses.”
“And dismissing the charges against Dana tomorrow. I’m going to tell all. I’ll have my column to you in about an hour.” I think about Dana. “Actually, I need two.”
“We’ll make it work. Write it, baby!” She hangs up. I pull out my MacBook and I have a brief moment when I think of Reese in the hallway of our apartment earlier, worried about me and us. What I felt in him and from the experience with Debbie helps me connect to all the things Dana must be feeling. I start to type:
Lies never end well. People suffer. People hurt. In the end, though, we all hope that the truth wins. It has. The truth has won.
Reese leans close and studies my words. His lashes lower and there is this new torment in him that I don’t understand. I touch his cheek and give him a questioning look. “And we’re here,” Royce says. “I’m going to valet.”
Reese kisses my hand and my door is open by a hotel employee. Reluctantly, I shut my MacBook and suddenly wonder if Reese has guessed I’m pregnant and read something bad into my silence. Oh God. He has. I know him. I scoot out of the vehicle and before I can even speak to Reese, Royce is by our sides.
We head inside and I spy a seating area. “I’m going to park myself right there.” I push to my toes and kiss Reese, and stay right there, close to him. “Whatever is bothering you, you’re overthinking it. Be as confident in us as I am.”
