Into the Dark by Stacy Green Page A

best,’ just as she had done with Mémé .
    “I know you didn’t, Sam. You were good to me when you were around. You deserve better than my mother.”
    “Let’s not talk about her,” Sam said. “I was sorry to hear about your divorce.”
    Emilie could imagine her mother’s glee when she heard that juicy detail of her daughter’s life. Her big mistake had ended exactly as Claire had said it would. Then again, Claire could easily spot her own kind—selfish and controlling.
    “Don’t be. I’ve moved on.”
    “You’re not alone out there, are you? You’ve got friends to stay with?”
    “I’m not alone. Thank you for calling, Sam.”
    “It was the least I could do. I kept an eye on you the first few years, you know.”
    “What?”
    “I had a private investigator check on you from time to time. Make sure you were all right and all.”
    “You had someone follow me?” Her heart drummed inside her chest. “For how long? Where is he now?”
    “Easy, kid. I called him off after about three years. He’s definitely not your guy. He died a year ago.”
    Damn.
    “Did Claire know?”
    “God, no. Your mother would have skinned me. She likes to pretend…”
    “That I don’t exist,” Emilie finished. “It’s okay. She’s done that all of my life.”
    “You deserve better than her too. For what it’s worth, I always thought you were a good kid, and I told her so. She just wouldn’t listen.”
    “Why are you still with her?” Emilie burst out. “How could you love someone so nasty and calculating?”
    “It’s complicated. And familiar. She does her thing, I do mine. Easier that way.”
    “Easier than a divorce settlement, you mean.”
    “That too.”
    An awkward silence followed until Sam spoke again. “Listen, my office number is still the same, kid. You change your mind about that security or need anything, please call.”
    “Vi still your secretary?” Emilie remembered the cranky, middle-aged woman who pissed Claire off every time her mother called Sam at work. Emilie had secretly enjoyed seeing her mother rebuffed by Vi.
    “Yeah. Don’t worry; she won’t say anything to Claire. Vi still hates her.”
    “Feeling’s mutual.”
    “Emilie—”
    “Listen, I have to go.” The dam in her throat was nearing its breaking point. “Thank you for calling, really. It was good to hear from you.”
    “You too, kid. Please take care of yourself. Watch your back and carry mace.”
    “I will. Goodbye.”
    She pressed the red ‘end’ button and covered her face with the pillow. Maybe if she drowned out the sobs, her breakdown wouldn’t count.
    * * * *
    Nathan flashed his badge and stepped under the yellow crime tape. WestOne Bank was still sealed off, and Metro had placed officers at its front door to ward off would-be crime solvers and nosy civilians.
    Little had changed. The broken glass had been swept into the corner and bullets had been retrieved from the drywall for ballistics testing, leaving the wall pockmarked with holes. Adam’s blood had been cleaned, but the stain remained. Crime scene tape was a puddle on the floor at the basement’s entrance.
    Nathan went down the stairs and into the storage room. The air still smelled stale, but the stench of mildew was less overwhelming. A tall, lithe woman stood near the broken door peering into the exposed hole in the earth.
    “Agent Ronson?”
    She turned, hand on her chest. “Madigan, you creep like a damned cat.”
    “SWAT training.” He grinned. “How’ve you been?”
    Nathan’s first experience with Sia Ronson had been a year ago when she tracked a child prostitution ring in central Las Vegas. Ronson enlisted the help of SWAT to apprehend the suspects. Her skills as an agent and her devotion to the suffering children had impressed Nathan.
    “Good. Heard you were the star here the other day.”
    “What?”
    “Your boss said you figured out the partner’s motives before anyone else.”
    “Guy still got away.”
    “He’s smart.”