“I saw him watching you all talk outside, and then he said he had to go.”
What had Adam heard? Jane turned around, marched back up to Trevor, who was just coming in through the screen door. She pushed against his chest and walked him back out onto the patio. “Your truck keys. I need them. Right now.”
He gave his truck keys to her. “You’re upset. Do you want me to drive you?”
“No. I need to do this myself.”
“Jane…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was small. She kept her hand on his broad chest. If they were once a couple, they were a mismatched one. The football player and the creative, moody girl. He’d have to bend down to kiss her. He put his hand over the hand she kept on his chest.
His voice was steady. “Your mother made it crystal clear she didn’t want me around you. I don’t know why. It was as if she didn’t want you remembering. It wasn’t my call to say more. And you had chosen David. Not me. I thought you didn’t care about me anymore. I didn’t know what to say or what to do.”
“There’s something else you’re not telling me.” I lost Trevor, too. I didn’t even know I had him. I lost him. I don’t remember being close to him, but I know when he’s holding something back. I know him so well, yet I don’t.
“Jane, it’s bad.”
“Tell me!” she screamed. She pounded her small fists against his chest, his arms. “Tell me! Tell me!”
“Ask your mom for your medical files,” he said tonelessly. “Ask her.”
42
YOU CAN’T BE here,” Perri said. Shiloh stood on her front porch, smiling.
“Why not? We need to talk. I’ve had an idea…where’s the lovely Jane?”
“I saw her leave. Dressed up nicely. I guess she’s moved back in with her mother and is attempting to have a social life.”
“See, I’ve had an idea on how we can…accelerate things.” Perri didn’t like the tone of his voice. His scarred grin was smug. “I made a list of names and addresses…”
And then another car pulled up, catching them in the headlights. Perri blinked, turned away. The lights dimmed. Maybe it was Cal and how on earth would she explain Shiloh Rooke being here…
“Mrs. Hall?”
Oh, no. Matteo Vasquez. “I still don’t really have anything to say, Mr. Vasquez.”
“I wondered if you might give me a quote regarding that video. I tried your phone, but all I got was voice mail.”
“I turned off my phone.”
Matteo reached the porch stairs, blinking up at Shiloh. “Hello,” he said.
“Hi there,” Shiloh answered. “I don’t think Mrs. Hall wants to talk to you.”
“I know you, Mr. Rooke. I interviewed you for the articles on Jane Norton, about the crash itself. Do you remember me?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re leaving.”
“It’s interesting the two of you are together,” Matteo said, not in an unfriendly way. “Has anything else happened to people tied to the crash?”
“No,” Perri said.
“You don’t need to write about that. It’s not really a story,” Shiloh said.
“That’s not what Mrs. Hall thought. I’d like to talk to you about, what was it, a theft? What was stolen? The e-mail tip I received said it was of a personal nature.”
“It’s a private matter, Mr. Vasquez.” Shiloh’s tone was cold. “I don’t have a comment.”
“But something was stolen from you and this happened after Brenda Hobson’s house burned, correct?”
“Like I said, a private matter.”
“You had an engagement that ended?” He glanced at Perri.
Perri wished that a hole would open in the ground and swallow Matteo Vasquez. Shiloh glanced at her. “Again, it’s private and I don’t wish to comment.”
“Who do you think is behind these Liv Danger posts?”
“I have no idea.”
“Anything you remember about the aftermath of the crash you want to share with me?”
“No. Are you still living in your car?” He grinned at Matteo Vasquez. “You lost your job at the papers. These days anyone with a keyboard is writing stuff, often for free. Hard to make a living. Reporters are not the only people who can do research with a phone call or two.” He gestured toward the parked car. “You sleep in the back of your car.”
Perri wondered why she hadn’t thought to do opposition research on Vasquez. Shiloh was smarter than he looked.
“This isn’t about me,” Vasquez said, his voice tight.
“It might be about your desperation to find a good story. Or make one up when there’s nothing to it.”
Matteo Vasquez ignored him. “So, Mrs. Hall, your husband takes it on himself to go see Brenda Hobson and you’re hanging out with the other paramedic who was targeted.”
“Why don’t you go talk to Jane Norton?” Shiloh asked. “According to Perri, she took off dressed to the nines like it was party time.”
Vasquez watched them both for a moment, and said, “If you change your mind, you know how to reach me, Mrs. Hall.” He gave Shiloh a business card. “You, too, since you seem so well informed.”
He got into his car but didn’t start it. Perri could see him on his phone, looking down at his lap. Reading something, she thought. Making phone calls. He’s on this. He’ll be talking to other people. He’d said he’d talk to the other people whose lives were touched by the crash.
“You should not have come here,” she said, not looking at Shiloh. “Now he’s suspicious.”
“What did you tell him about me?”
“Hardly anything. I was trying to get him to write about the Nortons. But someone had e-mailed him about everything that’s going on—you, Brenda Hobson, Randy Franklin. It must have been Jane or Laurel.”
“I can’t do what I need to do with a reporter blabbering about me.” A hard threat lay under the words.
A flash of coldness went across her chest. “He’s not blabbering. He hasn’t written anything yet.” The words spilled out of her in a rush and she steeled herself. She couldn’t show a moment’s weakness in front of Shiloh. He fed on that.
Vasquez got off his phone, started his car, and drove away.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Shiloh said. “I got to go. Things to do.” He kept his gaze locked on Vasquez’s departing car.
“Where are you going?” Her voice rose.
“I told you, I had an idea on how to accelerate all this.” He got into his car and roared off.
Accelerate? You have to control him.
He said he had a list. Names and addresses. The chill she felt burrowed into her.
She had to stop him. But she didn’t even know what he was doing. If she called the police, it would be so uncomfortable. So she stood frozen, watching his taillights vanish into the night, following Matteo Vasquez, and she thought, You’re a coward.
She sank to the curb.
43
JANE GOT INTO Trevor’s truck. Started it. She hadn’t driven since the wreck. She wasn’t sure she even remembered how.
Ask your mother about your medical records.