Page 47 of The Woman I’ve Become

I remind myself I have always had less-than-ideal-situations. This one is really no different, just trickier because of my temporarily weakened physical condition.

Acacia lifts her glass. “To finding the truth.”

I lift my own but say nothing, then take a small sip. The slight sting and feeling of warmth carries the promise of relief. But I can’t afford to overindulge in this sort of relief.

She takes another sip from her glass, then says, “I think we need to formulate a plan.” She makes a face as if realizing something important. “I can’t believe you came here unarmed and ill prepared under the circumstances.”

“We don’t own guns,” I say. I offer nothing in response to her suggestion I am ill prepared. She has no idea.

“First we need to get Olivia back to the city.”

I barely suppress a gasp. Yes I have considered this myself, but I also recognize this is what the enemy would expect me to do. Besides, she has just made a huge misstep. “After what you’ve suggested about Phillip, why in the world would I send her to him?”

Acacia studies me for a moment, her face blank as she sips more of her drink. Likely looking for a way to justify her claim. “Is Phillip a bad father?” The question is asked bluntly with no discernable nuance.

This I suspect is a trap. “He’s a good father,” I admit. His work takes precedence more than I feel is proper for a father, but otherwise he does well. He loves Olivia. I have never doubted that fact. “But how can I trust him after what you’ve told me? Unless, of course, you lied.”

The slightest hint of a smile tilts her lips. She’s enjoying this. “Just because he has plans to undermine you doesn’t mean he would ever harm his child.”

I want Olivia safe above all else. I can’t deny that keeping her here was not well thought out. I suppose there is really no way around the move no matter how it grieves me. But if I call Phillip now—after shooing him away—I need him to believe that Olivia talked me into it. And for that I need a very good excuse. Otherwise he will recognize something is up. Not to mention I will need to take some sort of countermeasure in the unlikely event Acacia is being truthful about his part in this.

“If the trouble is here,” Acacia goes on when I say nothing, “Olivia should not be. The upside to that strategy beyond Olivia’s safety is that you and I can focus fully on the threat.”

Isn’t that nice? She’s on my side now, is she? The scenario she presents is nothing more than a play to regain some semblance of trust. Silly, silly girl. Does she think me a fool?

My cell vibrates, and I slip it from my back pocket. I check the screen, then glance at Acacia as I stand. “It’s Catherine. I have to take this.”

Acacia keeps her seat as I head to the kitchen. Catherine is Phillip’s mother, but this isn’t her. It’s the PI, Archer.

I wait until I’m at the wall of windows overlooking the lake before I answer. “Hello.” I turn to face the doorway that leads into this room from the entry hall. “Is everything all right?” I ask this in case Acacia has sneaked close enough to listen.

“Is someone nearby?”

“Yes. I’m glad you called.”

“Got it. So I have news for you about your employee.”

I brace for the worst. “Great,” I say.

“Her real name is Alicia Hopkins from Long Island. Managed to graduate high school by the skin of her teeth. Spent too many school days and all her free time working with her father, the veterinarian. She’s the youngest of four. Mother deserted them when she was twelve. Her father died four years ago. She tried to take over the clinic by doctoring his papers to show she was the veterinarian. When her siblings and a number of clients filed complaints and lawsuits, she disappeared. Been missing ever since.”

Dread creeps through me. “I think that’s a fine idea. I really do,” I say, keeping up the subterfuge.

“As for the boyfriend,” he goes on, “we got a hit on his prints, which led us right to her, as I hoped it would. He listed the veterinary clinic as a former workplace where he was a custodian. His name is Brian Miller, thirty. A real jewel of a guy. His rap sheet includes possession of methamphetamines, petty theft, and assault. These are not nice people, Julia. If one or both are close to you, you could end up like Eleanor.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. “I understand. What about Phillip? Is he okay?”

There’s a moment of silence. “You have reason to believe Phillip is somehow involved?”

“Possibly. I’m a little worried.” My heart is thundering now as all the suspicions I’ve lived with the past few weeks coalesce into a confirmed threat.

“I’ll have another look, but I don’t believe that’s the case. You said he was extremely close to Eleanor. Why would he associate himself with the people who probably killed her?”

A very good point. “You’re right.” I haven’t seen or heard a peep from Acacia, but I can’t be sure she’s not skulking around listening.

“I’ll forward this report to your email so you can read it yourself for all the particulars, and when I have more, I’ll call,” he says. “Look, Julia, whatever you’re doing, be careful.”

I grunt a sound of agreement. The call ends, but I don’t say goodbye. Instead, I immediately call Catherine. As soon as she answers, I dive in as if this is a continuation of the same call.