I don’t respond directly to his question. It’s a dumb question, and he already knows the answer. “They have all my information. They just need a number, Jim.”
He nods once. “I’ll call you when you’re able to pick him up.”
I nod in return and Lexi tugs my hand leading me out of the courtroom. “Holy shit,” she breathes as we enter the hallway heading toward the exit. “What the fuck happened, Demi?”
“Mr. Jenson was murdered, and Mrs. Jenson says Connor did it.” I had stated this in the voicemails I left her last night, but apparently she needs a reminder.
Lexi shakes her head, before looking at me, her expression already soft—apologetic. “Do you think . . .” She can’t even finish her question because I’m already glaring daggers at her for even asking the question.
“Clearly, I do, Lex,” I snap. “I mean, I just anted up twenty-five thousand dollars and risking losing two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars for a man I think is guilty.”
“Okay, okay.” She releases a deep breath. “How are the girls?”
Lexi is hitting all of the really sore subjects this morning and, therefore, receiving the blunt end of my shitty mood. “Good question,” I retort. “I called Wendy last night and twice this morning—no answer.”
I’ve opted to give Wendy a few days, but she will be speaking to me come hell or high water. I want to know what the girls know. I want to know what happened.
“Shit,” Lexi sighs.
We’re out the doors of the courthouse and halfway down the steps when I hear, “Demi!” Turning, I find Roxy in her biker babe gorgeousness, gorgeous blonde hair down her back, long legs only accentuated by three-inch heels and a tight-fitting top.
“Who the fu—” Lexi begins before I interrupt her.
“Roxy,” I say, surprised.
“Did they deny him bail?” she asks, skipping any formal greeting.
“No,” I answer. “He should be out by this afternoon.”
She sighs with relief, her hand moving to her stomach as if it just unfurled itself, and she’s found relief. “Thank goodness. Ever since he called me last night I’ve been a nervous wreck.”
The blood drains from my face. Connor used his one phone call to call Roxy?
To call Roxy.
Not me.
Roxy.
I stare at her blankly, unable to process her words. Why wouldn’t he call me?
There are few times my sister’s big mouth and verbal vomit have ever benefitted me, but when Lexi asks, “Are you guys a couple?” I could kiss her. It’s the million dollar question. Enquiring minds want to know—well my enquiring mind wants to know anyway.
Roxy smirks and looks genuinely shocked. “Oh no, honey.” Then she looks at me and her brows furrow, her expression softening, “You thought Connor and me . . .”
“At one time . . . I assumed,” I choke out, maintaining a calm demeanor. “You stay over a bit . . . I don’t know. It’s not really my business.” Is it? Connor said they were only friends.
Roxy blinks a few times. “Had you never heard of me before we met in your driveway that night?”
I furrow my brows in confusion. “No. Should I have?”
Roxy closes her eyes, and her shoulders fall as she exhales. “Oh, Blake,” she breathes as if he can hear her.
My eyes widen, unsure if the name that just fell from her lips was that of my deceased husbands. Did I hear that right?
“Did you just say, Blake?” Lexi asks, her voice rising an octave.
Roxy opens her eyes and bites her lip, an expression of . . . guilt maybe? “Could we go somewhere else and have a cup of coffee? There are some things you should know. Things about Blake and Connor.”
My stomach is in a million tiny knots, but I nod, and we walk across the street to a small café. Walking between Roxy and Lexi, I realize how terrible I look. They’re in heels and sexy clothes—granted Lexi doesn’t look as fresh as Roxy, but she’s doing better than me. I look like I’ve been wearing the same clothes for days. As we walk, Roxy begins explaining.