Bed of Bones (A Sloane Monroe Novel, Book Five) by Cheryl Bradshaw

over. Melody’s stalker hadn’t sent those messages like everyone had assumed, and perhaps he hadn’t sent the flowers. There had been someone else on set. But for how long? And why? And why Melody?
     
    I thought about the bombs. They were amateurish in nature, and though they hurt many and in fact killed a few, it could have been much worse. It was almost like the bomber had controlled the chaos to some extent…why?
    There was more to it, something I wasn’t seeing.
    Maybe the demise of all the people in the theater wasn’t the big motive behind the blast. I asked myself: What else had been accomplished by this bomb?
    The film had shut down, possibly for good.
    I needed to see that movie.

CHAPTER 21
    Morning blew in the bitterest chill of the year and a low, dense fog clinging to the air like a veil that couldn’t be lifted. Two hours earlier, Shelby had finally succumbed to sleep after trying to make it all the way through a slasher marathon on TV. At least she was sleeping. She needed it. Then again, so did I.
    I scooped Lord Berkeley into my arms, grabbed the phone off the nightstand, and wrapped an afghan around myself. Then I stepped outside and dialed Cade.
    “I was just about to call you,” he said. “How is she?”
    “Fine. She thinks she runs the place.”
    He laughed.
    “Are they any closer to findin’ out who’s responsible for the theater bombin’?”
    I filled him in on what meager details I had.
    “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full. I’ll come get her.”
    “If you want the truth, I think she’s ready. We had a nice talk last night. I won’t say I was able to impart a lot of female wisdom, but something got through.”
    “She say much about the trailer trash she’s been hangin’ around with lately?”
    “A little. She was more interested in talking about your father. If you want my opinion, what she’s really after right now is your attention. She’s getting it from this Jace guy, but I think she’d rather get it from you.”
    He sighed. “There are better ways to let me know.”
    “And maybe when she’s thirty she’ll grasp that concept. Right now, she doesn’t know any different.”
    “What do you suggest?”
    I never thought I’d be the one giving advice.
    “Your father’s death has made her think a lot more about everyone in her life. She worries about you.”
    “Me? Why?”
    “Think about it. Your wife walked out, your father passed away. She’s scared, Cade.”
    “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
    “I know.”
    “Can I talk to her now for a minute?”
    “She’s asleep, but I can wake her.”
    “No, don’t. I’ve got a meetin’ at noon with Chief Rollins and some of the other guys about a case we’re workin’ then I’ll head your way.”
    “Call me before you get here. I’ll come home.”
    “Will do. And Sloane…thank you.”

CHAPTER 22
    Giovanni sat beside me in the car, his hands interlaced together, resting on the knee of his light grey tailored suit. We’d just finished having breakfast at a diner where neither of us talked. I mistakenly thought food would help soothe my nerves. It hadn’t. I felt worse. If it would have been dinner, I would have called it the last supper, because that’s exactly what it felt like.
    “I’m leaving,” he said.
    Outside, snow began to fall.
    “I know. You told me the other day. Is that why you wanted to see me again?”
    He nodded.
    “Okay.”
    He reached over, rubbed my arm. “Don’t do this,” he said.
    “Do what?”
    “Act like everything is fine. It isn’t. You don’t have to be tough, Sloane. Not around me.”
    I sat back, rested my trembling hands in my lap. “I haven’t heard from you in two days. Two days , Giovanni. I thought you were already gone.”
    “I’m here now.”
    “Yeah…to say goodbye.”
    The last word— goodbye —hadn’t rolled off my tongue as easily as I hoped it would. If he detected a change in my tone of voice, it didn’t show. I gazed out the window. I