With a frustrated cry, she grabbed her wireless keyboard and threw it against the wall. Several keys popped off and the keyboard bounced before landing on the floor. Covering her face with her hands, Ana dropped to her knees and struggled not to cry.
No tears, she told herself. No tears.
They won’t change anything.
They won’t bring Gloria back.
Besides, now that Ty knew about her, her life here was over. Ana Martin was no more. Whether she ended up signing on to work with Belladonna or not, she could never return to Seattle, taking the chance they wouldn’t leave her alone but would continue to ask more and more from her. Sooner or later, they’d stop asking and figure out a way to make her do what they wanted.
After several minutes of deep breathing, Ana finally calmed. Slowly, she got to her feet, picked up the keyboard, and retrieved the scattered keys. Then she headed straight for the garage and the flattened moving boxes she kept there. One by one, she rebuilt them, then started to pack.
By 8 a.m., she was done.
She owned very little that was important to her. Some photographs. Clothes she simply didn’t want to have to buy again. And some dolls she and Gloria had played with as children …
Dolls she’d put in storage during her stint in prison.
With a small smile, she picked up the baby doll with yellow yarn braids and a faded gingham dress. It had once been Gloria’s prized possession, mostly because it had been a gift from their mother, who’d for once remembered one of her daughters’ birthdays and had made some effort to celebrate the occasion. By evening, they’d been alone again, but they’d had the doll and the leftover cake and each other. They’d spent the entire night taking care of their “new baby.”
Ana still remembered how eight-year-old Gloria had crooned to the doll, promising that her life would be wonderful. Vowing that she would never let anything happen to her. Promising to protect her the way eleven-year-old Ana protected Gloria.
Months later, when Gloria’s grandparents had arrived to give her a better life, Gloria had given the doll to Ana, blinking back tears, saying, “So you won’t be lonely. So you can protect each other while I’m away.”
And years later? After fifteen-year-old Gloria had returned from her grandparents, quiet and broken?
She hadn’t wanted the doll anymore. In fact, she’d threatened to burn it, only Ana hadn’t let that happen. She’d kept the doll hidden, because it reminded her of a rare moment when their mother had been something like sober. And she’d held on to it since then because she had needed a reminder of her sister, whatever it was worth.
Ty Duncan had promised to give her information about Gloria … if she came to work for Belladonna. Despite her despair and loss of control earlier, there’d never been any question of what she was going to do—if there was any chance of her finding Gloria, she’d do what it took to make sure that happened.
Ana placed the doll into a box and taped the lid shut.
She’d have to go into work and start packing there, too. Put her business up for sale and have the funds transferred into a secure account. Maybe—
A knock on her door made her jump. She immediately thought of Ty. Annoyance or anger should have been her first response. Instead, she felt a jolt of excited anticipation.
Warily, she approached the front door. “Who is it?”
“Seattle PD, ma’am.”
“What do you want?”
“If you open the door, we can talk about it.”
“What’s your name? Your badge number?”
“Officer Southcott.” He recited his badge number and rattled off the number of his station.
With a quick phone call to Seattle PD, she confirmed his visit to her house as official. Only then did she open the door and allow him to cross the threshold. But she didn’t ask him to sit down. He could say what he’d come to say standing up.
“Ms. Martin.” He gave her a curt nod. “I’m here to ask whether you know Téa Montgomery.”
Téa? Why was he—? A feeling of dread hit her and she automatically thought … Ty Duncan. He’d said he’d spoken to Téa about her. Had he hurt her?
He couldn’t have. She was far more suspicious of this cop than Ty. “Téa’s my parole officer, but I’m sure you already know that. What’s this about?”
“Ms. Montgomery is dead,” he said baldly, holding nothing back. “She passed away almost a week ago.”
Shock punched Ana in the stomach and was followed swiftly by grief. Even so, she deliberately kept her face blank and her breathing steady.
But, God, how it hurt.
Téa hadn’t just been her parole officer, she’d been a friend, at least as much of a friend as Ana had allowed herself. Téa had cared about her. Encouraged her. Told her she was more than her past. Now she was dead.
Something was wrong, really wrong. It was possible that Ty Duncan had killed her. Ana had no real reason to trust him at all.
Seated in front of the surveillance monitors, Ty cursed when he saw Officer Southcott—the same bastard who’d driven a bullet between his eyes—stroll up Ana’s front walkway to knock on her door. Last night, he’d assumed the cop had been sent to the warehouse to go after him by someone wanting to protect Ana. How wrong he’d been. Now Southcott was going to kill Ana before Ty could do anything to stop him.
Shooting to his feet, he was about to run over there when he realized it was broad daylight. Sure he could withstand the sun for a short time, but he’d be seen. Identified. Maybe even questioned. Southcott had parked his patrol car in front of her house, which didn’t exactly scream nefarious intent, so he paused. Waited. Heard Southcott give Ana the phone number of his station house. On another screen, he watched Ana pick up the phone and confirm the officer was actually supposed to be there. Further proof that Southcott wasn’t going to harm her.
Still tense but no longer panicked, Ty sat back down.
So why was Southcott there?
He watched and listened, then cursed.
He’d already known Téa Montgomery was dead before Ana had confronted him in that alley. He’d also known it was only a matter of time before Ana learned the truth. But now? After everything he’d put her through? After the way she’d thrown that keyboard, then slowly and methodically packed up her things?
The expression on Ana’s face when she heard the news made Ty wince. She hid her grief so damn well. Too well.
Ty had guessed why she’d packed her stuff. And why she’d thrown that keyboard. Even worse, he knew things were only going to get harder for her.
“How—how did she die?” Ana asked the cop.
Southcott was watching her carefully, as if he thought she was going to break down and weep. He seemed somewhat surprised when she didn’t.
“A car accident.”
What a mundane way for such a vibrant woman to lose her life. Téa’s family—her parents, the sister she often talked about—had to be shattered. Madre de Dios …
“That’s terrible,” Ana said, because he clearly expected her to say something.
He held out a piece of paper. “This is a transcription of a text on Téa’s phone. Just a draft, never sent. I don’t know if the accident is the reason she never finished it, but …” The police officer shrugged.
Ana took the paper and read Téa’s incomplete text: Ana. Stay away from Belladonna. Too dangerous. Gloria—
It stopped there.
Téa had truly been her friend to the end. She’d tried to warn Ana to stay away from Belladonna because she’d wanted to protect her. Yet the text confirmed what Ty had already told her—that Belladonna and Gloria were somehow linked.