expression had become grave and hard as she listed Joslyn’s injuries. “Her ex-boyfriend did that to her?”
“She seemed afraid of him, but at the same time, I thought there was some anger behind all that fear, which is unusual.” She then remembered something. “She might have had ligature marks on her wrists. At least, they looked that way to me, and they were her freshest bruises.”
“He tied her?” His voice was muffled by his tight jaw.
Men’s anger used to make Elisabeth flinch. As she’d regained her self-esteem, she’d had to train herself to face it with calm confidence, remembering she was no longer that victim. But Liam’s anger, directed at the man who’d hurt Joslyn, made Elisabeth realize he was someone who wouldn’t stand for anyone lifting a finger to her. What would it be like to have someone who wanted to guard her and care for her? She hadn’t had anyone like that since she was sixteen, when her mother died.
“Some abusers do that, but it’s unusual,” she said.
“The way I see it, the only way you or I will ever be safe is to figure out what’s going on,” Liam said.
“It sounds better than just sitting around and waiting,” she admitted. “Let’s talk to some of the women at the shelter to see if anyone knows anything about Joslyn.”
Liam nodded, but as they walked back up the driveway toward the house, he said, “We’d better be discreet. Detective Carter might not appreciate us doing our own investigation when the police are on it already.”
“I’m a private investigator. This is my job.” They walked in silence for a few moments, then she said, “You’re pretty friendly with Detective Carter.”
“He’s known my family for a long time. When I started my skip-tracing business, he sent some work my way.”
“I do some freelance for the San Francisco FBI,” she found herself saying, and bit her lip to keep herself from blurting out more. What was it about Liam that made her so eager to overshare about her life? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was bragging.”
His eyes twinkled at her. “An occasional dose of humility is good for a man’s character.”
She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t often met men who could make fun of themselves this way.
At the back of the house, there was a fenced-in recreation area for the residents, and Elisabeth knew the key combination to open the gate. She nodded to Witton—one of the house security guards—who stood watching over the children on the play set. As soon as some of the women saw her, they came up to talk.
“Are you all right?” Kalea, a staff member at the house, grasped Elisabeth’s hand, but she also cast a curious look at Liam.
“I’m fine. This is Liam O’Neill. He’s a skip tracer and he works with Detective Carter.”
Several of the women visibly relaxed.
Elisabeth gave an abbreviated account of what had happened.
“Joslyn?” Kalea’s eyebrows rose. “But she left weeks ago.”
“Do those men still think she’s here?” Witton’s dark brows lowered over his deep-set eyes.
“Not sure,” Liam said. “Detective Carter is assigning some officers to watch over the house, though.”
“What do they want with her?” Kalea asked.
“We don’t know,” Elisabeth said.
Kalea looked thoughtful. “She didn’t say much when she was here.”
“She enjoyed playing with the children,” one of the women spoke up.
“Miss Joslyn was sick,” said Kayoi, a precocious little girl with large eyes and a narrow chin.
Her mother tried to hush her, but Elisabeth said, “No, I’d like to know what Kayoi saw.” She knelt in front of the girl. “What do you mean, she was sick?” From what Elisabeth could tell, Joslyn had been healthy, aside from her injuries.
“She was throwing up in the bathroom,” Kayoi said. “Early in the morning, before breakfast.”
Joslyn could have been vomiting for a variety of reasons, but one zoomed to the top of Elisabeth’s list.
“I asked her if she wanted me to get Miss Kalea, but Miss Joslyn said she was only a little sick and didn’t need help.”
“Thank you, Kayoi. That’s helpful.” Elisabeth rose to her feet and caught Liam’s eye. From his expression, she figured he had made the same guess.
“Was she pregnant?” Kalea asked in a low voice.
“If she was, she didn’t tell me,” Elisabeth said.
Kalea leaned close to her. “Are you in danger from those men who are after her? Are you going to be all right?”
Elisabeth didn’t want to lie to her, but she didn’t want to worry her, either. However, Liam answered for her. “I’ll keep her safe. Don’t worry.”
His words should have annoyed her—after all, she was able to take care of herself. But his tone was earnest rather than arrogant, and if she was honest with herself, it was good to know someone had her back.
Not that she’d let herself rely on that. No, he might sound trustworthy now, but she’d seen too many broken promises to start trusting someone now just because they seemed earnest. He wanted to protect her? Fine. But she wouldn’t stop protecting herself.
Kalea squeezed Elisabeth’s hand. “We’ll be praying for you, okay?”
Elisabeth’s answering smile was stiff. She loved volunteering at Wings shelter, but the faith of the owners and the staff occasionally made her uncomfortable. She didn’t feel any affinity to a God who had failed her at some key points in her life.
She spoke to a few of the other women there, giving reassurances and answering questions, but she learned nothing new about Joslyn. She had just left a group of women when she saw Tiffany sitting alone on a bench, soaking in the sun. Tiffany didn’t obviously signal to Elisabeth, but she held her gaze and tilted her head slightly. Her expression was anxious.
Elisabeth casually walked over and sat beside her. “How are you feeling?”
Tiffany rubbed a hand over her distended stomach. “Tired. The baby’s been kicking a lot lately.”
“So you heard that the men were looking for Joslyn?”
Tiffany nodded. She whispered, “I saw her, the night she left.”
“What happened?”
“I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. When I was heading back to bed, I spotted Joslyn just as she was closing her door. She looked scared to see me. I knew right away she was leaving. I tried to get her to stay, I told her she was safe here.”
“She didn’t
