Page 25 of Little Hidden Fears

“I think it’s a strong possibility. I won’t know until I poke around the place, talk to the people who work there.”

“Where’s the center located? It couldn’t be around here, or I’d know about it.”

“It’s in Santa Maria,” I said. “Dominic also mentioned that the officers over there were aware of Noelle’s alias—and the reason why it was necessary.”

Foley took another swig of bourbon, making the same face he’d made before. “Donnelly’s the chief of police in that area. Met him a few times. Great guy. Guess the two of us need to have a little chat.”

“If Noelle’s killer was affiliated with the women’s center in some way, I think we want to focus on any women who have made recent complaints.”

“Good idea. I’ll ask him. Anything else we should know before we get out of your hair?”

“Not that I can think of right now.”

“All right, well then, it’s getting late. We’ll leave you, touch base tomorrow sometime. Get some rest now and try your best to shut off that mind of yours.”

I smiled and nodded, knowing shutting off my mind after the day I’d had wouldn’t just be hard, it would be near impossible.

CHAPTER 11

I woke not knowing how much sleep I’d gotten the night before. I knew it wasn’t much, and given the numerous times I’d woken, I wasn’t surprised that I was feeling a bit groggy.

Groggy or not, the mouthwatering aroma of bacon was enough to rouse me for the day. I sat up, turning toward Luka, my Samoyed, who was eyeing me with a look of concern. Given the smell of bacon was wafting through the house, I was surprised he’d remained by my side.

He laid his head on top of my lap, and I reached out, stroking his fur as I said, “I’m okay, bud. It was just a bad night of sleep.”

He looked up at me, unconvinced.

Giovanni entered the room, whistling a classic jazz tune as he offered me a freshly brewed mocha.

“Your timing is perfect,” he said. “Breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

“Smells like bacon is on the menu.”

“Yes, it’s in the Mediterranean quiche that’s baking.”

Just what I needed to get the day going.

I took a sip of the mocha he’d given me and then set the mug on the nightstand. “I hope I wasn’t too much of a pain to sleep next to last night.”

“You tossed and turned throughout the night.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Yesterday was a hard one, and you handled it with grace. How are you feeling today?”

Like I’d been flattened by a semitruck.

“I’m tired, and my head hurts,” I said. “I’ll survive.”

“I can get you some ibuprofen.”

He turned, and I reached out, grabbing his hand. “Hey, I know we were supposed to talk about our wedding plans this week.”

“Don’t trouble yourself with it now. We have time.”

I wasn’t so sure.

Time had a way of creeping up on a person until there was no time left.

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