“Did Sonny live near where BB’s car crashed?”
Elena shrugged and kept her gaze down. “I don’t know.”
Frustration nipped at Melina, but she kept her tone calm. “That’s okay.”
Elena picked at the fur on the dog’s paw. She had worn a bald spot. “Am I going back with BB?”
“No, honey.”
“Why not?”
“Because BB is in a little trouble right now. She’s in time-out.”
“She’s been bad?”
“Yes.”
There was a knock on the door, and Melina turned to find her mother standing in the doorway. She was holding a bag from the local box store that she would bet her last dollar was stuffed with toys, clothes, and packets of Melina’s favorite flavor of Goldfish.
“Can I come in?” Molly asked.
“Sure.” After rising, Melina stepped aside so her mother could get a good look at Elena. “You must be Elena.”
The girl looked at her with more curiosity than fear. She nodded.
“Elena, this is my mom, Mrs. Shepard.”
“Oh my word, don’t call me Mrs. Shepard. That makes me sound all old.” She scrunched her face as she set the bag down by the bed. “You can call me Mimi. That’s what my little grandnephew calls me.”
Her mother took the seat by Elena’s bed. “Have you not eaten your lunch?”
Elena shook her head.
“Melina was the worst eater when she was your age.” She scooped up a small bite of mashed potatoes and swirled it in the melted butter. “Her daddy and I didn’t meet Melina until she was five. She was such a scrawny little thing, and all she would eat was white bread and ketchup.”
“I like ketchup,” Elena said.
“It’s as good as mashed potatoes. Try and see.”
Her mother leaned forward, coaxed the girl’s lips open, and put the food in her mouth. Elena ate, staring at Molly in a way that reminded Melina of herself.
One of her first memories of her mother was in a room like this. She had been in the hospital just a couple of hours and was chilled to the bone despite the layers of blankets put on her by the nurses. The bottoms of her feet had been raw from walking barefoot. She’d felt all alone and tried to hold back the tears.
And the room door had opened, and her mother had swept in, bringing with her the scent of a rose perfume. Melina inhaled the same fragrance now. It never failed to ease the world’s stressors.
Melina folded her arms and watched as her mother coaxed another bite and then another into the girl. Soon Elena was drinking milk from a straw.
“See, Melina, Elena is a very good eater,” her mother said. “I knew she would be.” Molly cleared away the empty plate and set it off to the side. “I have coloring books. Would you like to color?”
Elena frowned. “I don’t know how.”
“Well, then you’re in luck.” Molly set a Frozen coloring book featuring the Disney princesses on the table. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a twenty-four pack of crayons. “Other than Melina, I’m the best at coloring books.”
As her mother began to leaf through the black-and-white pages, Melina said, “Elena, do you mind staying with my mom? I’ll come back.”
Her mother tossed Melina a bright smile. “Don’t you worry about us. We’re going to be fine. I have some books for Ms. Elena. I also heard that she likes bubbles—and guess what? I have bubbles.”
The girl nodded as she selected a blue crayon from the box.
“Good choice.” Her mother rose, kissed Melina on the cheek. “Do what you need to. I have this covered,” she whispered.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Are you kidding? I couldn’t sleep last night because I was so excited to meet Elena.”
Melina hugged her mother. “See you soon, Elena.”
The girl scooped up another crayon. “Are you coming back?”
“I will. Soon.”
The girl nodded and began to color.
Out in the hallway, Melina shrugged her shoulders, tossing off an invisible weight she hadn’t realized she had been carrying. Elena was in good hands. She could not say the same for Bonnie.
Sonny had learned her name was Sandra Wallace, and she worked as a bartender and waitress in a local honky-tonk several blocks north of the Lower Broadway strip. The bar was off the beaten track and was frequented by locals before 5:00 p.m., though the occasional tourist stumbled across it.
More importantly, Sandra had the look Sonny liked. Tall, buxom, with brassy-blond hair, she was known for tossing back her head and laughing loud. It was an infectious laugh that made everyone in the room turn and look in delight and sometimes annoyance. Sandra Wallace never entered a room unnoticed.
She liked the attention.
Craved it.
And she had gotten his attention.
As he watched her standing behind the walnut bar mixing a Manhattan, he could feel himself growing hard. He wrapped his hands around the cool glass of his beer bottle, imagining that it was her slim neck.
“Baby, what are you doing over there alone?” Sandra asked. She had shifted those blue eyes in his direction, and for just a split second, he imagined it was just the two of them in the world.
Sonny grinned, knowing ladies liked the look of him. A little bit of effort and he could have them eating out of his hand. “You look mighty pretty tonight, Sandra,” he said. “But then you always do.”
Her grin widened and a chuckle rumbled in her chest as she arched her back slightly. Her breasts pulsed out, drawing his attention away from her neck for only a moment.
“What are you doing after work?”
She shrugged. “What do you have in mind?”
“When do you get off?”
“Midnight.”
To have a date scheduled so soon after the last two was not really smart. Time and distance between his dates had always been a strategy that kept him off the law enforcement radar. But since Bonnie’s first text almost two weeks ago, his well-cultivated control had abandoned him. In its place was a bone-deep sense of loneliness that had made the four walls of his bedroom oppressive. “If I’m out back at, say, 1:00 a.m., you’ll be ready?”
“Sure will.”
He leaned forward, smoothing his fingers up and down the bottle’s neck. “Sandra, do you have a bathtub?”
She moistened her lips. “I do, doll. Why?”
He took a swig of beer. “Wait and see.”
Her eyes darkened with desire, and she would have lingered if not for another patron calling for another beer. She winked at him and slowly turned, sauntering toward the other side as if knowing he was watching her leave.
His phone rang, lighting up the number as Blocked. He let the call go to voicemail. A tickle of worry tightened his gut and reminded him loneliness was the least of his problems now. He finished his beer and, grabbing his phone, left the bar. In his car, he played back the voicemail.
The sound of Bonnie’s voice grated over his nerves, and as tempted as he was to hit delete, he listened.
“Baby, you know who this is. And you know where I am. You need to help me.”
He sat for several minutes before he played the next message. “This is Ralph Hogan. I’m a bondsman who has been contacted by Bonnie Guthrie. She’s asked me to contact this number. She says you will cosign for a bail bond.”
He could almost hear her smile as she gripped the phone and leaned toward it to whisper.
She was savvy enough to know the calls were recorded, so she hadn’t called him directly. But for her to give this man his number implied an unspoken threat. Help me, or I give you to the cops. When Bonnie was cornered, she always came out swinging.
His heart kicked into high gear, and he replayed the message. Drawing in a breath, he reminded himself that he had some time. She would not play her cards until she ran out of options. She was a survivor and knew the best long game was to stay under the radar. If she turned on him, she would likely get tagged as an accessory after the fact.
She did not want to tell the cops what she knew, but she would. She never made idle threats.
He shoved his phone in his pocket and glanced into the bar’s front window. Sandra was laughing and pouring beer from a tap. Already, she was smiling at another man.
Sonny had a couple of buddies that were bail bondsmen like Ralph Hogan. Working with bands and musicians for so many years meant he knew not only where to find the best drugs and food at 3:00 a.m. but also which bail bondsmen were quick and discreet. He did not know Ralph. But he had a friend who would.
Sonny checked his watch. As much as he wanted to go on a date with Sandra tonight, she would have to wait. He would deal with Bonnie first and then make time for his new girlfriend.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wednesday, August 26, 6:00 p.m.
Melina sat in the prison interview room, reminding herself that Bonnie Guthrie was nothing more than another con and thief. Just because Bonnie had remarked that she had once known a Melina did not mean she was telling the truth or that they were connected. Time to shake off her own emotional baggage and get on with the job of being a cop.
The knob twisted and the door opened. Bonnie entered the room and stared at her through the glass partition. She looked comfortable. Her shoulders were squared, her chin angled up like she was queen of this realm.