they saw us in the bar. Maybe they’ve been following me ever since.”
“Hoping we would reconnect? I haven’t seen you since that night. We haven’t even talked on the phone. Tailing you to get to me wouldn’t have made much sense.”
“So you think that whoever did this is associated with me?”
“Yes, but I’m going to investigate every angle. I won’t rule out a Society connection, not until I know for sure.”
Lisa didn’t know what to think, if the baby was being threatened because of her or because of its father.
Either way, she agreed to go with him. Because going home alone didn’t seem like a very good option.
Chapter 2
After the police released Lisa’s car, she followed Rex to his house, and the entire time she was in traffic, the knifed doll loomed in her mind. She’d never been so grateful when his complex came into view.
He offered her a seat on his leather sofa. The condo was decorated in dark woods and masculine fabrics. Laminate floors, textured walls and floor-to-ceiling windows provided contemporary ambience. The balcony in his bedroom overlooked the pool. She remembered the view.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“A little.” She knew that she needed to eat.
“Is Chinese okay? I can have it delivered.”
“That’s fine.”
He rummaged through a kitchen drawer and retrieved a take-out menu. She chose an entrée and handed it back to him.
While he ordered the food, she noticed the magazines on his coffee table, which ranged from sports publications to men’s entertainment—the kind with centerfolds.
But what did she expect from a free-wheeling bachelor?
“Do you have a theory about all of this?” she asked.
He sat beside her. “All of this?” He made a grim expression. “You mean, the threat? I think the perpetrator is angry at you for getting pregnant.”
“Do you think he or she is trying to scare me into having an abortion?”
“Probably.”
There was no way she was going to terminate her pregnancy. “And if I don’t? Then what? Will this person—this perpetrator—try to make me miscarry? Or attempt to kill the baby after it’s born?”
He put his hand on her knee. “I won’t let it go that far.”
Lisa hoped he was able to live up to his claim. She wanted to feel safe, but at the moment, she was still scared. At least Detective Bell seemed to think that Rex was capable of the job. That gave her a measure of comfort.
He frowned. “You still look pale. Do you need to lie down before the food comes?”
On the sofa? Or in a guest room? Surely not in his room. Last time when she’d awakened beside him, naked as the day she was born, she’d turned shy. She remembered tugging at the sheet and struggling for something to say.
“Lisa?” he pressed, reminding her that she hadn’t answered his question. He even squeezed her knee.
“I don’t need to lie down.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Disturbed by her memories, her muscles tensed.
He was astute enough to quit touching her. He removed his hand from her leg. He paused before he said, “I’d like to interview you. But it can wait until after we eat.”
“That’s fine.” She suspected that he would be repeating Detective Bell’s questions, along with a vast number of his own. She had no idea how personal the interview would get, but she prepared herself for the worst.
Not that she had anything to hide. She lived in a cozy old house, enjoyed the chaos that came with running a dance studio and spent Sundays with her family.
Not exactly the kind of life that lent itself to deranged threats.
Their meals were delivered, and he shoved the magazines aside, toppling a few of them. He put napkins, plastic forks, wooden chopsticks and soy sauce packets on the coffee table, along with the take-out containers.
“Do you want a soda?” he asked. “Or some milk?”
“I’ll take a soda.”
“Wouldn’t milk be better for you?”
“Probably, but it sounds icky with Chinese food.”
“How about herbal tea instead? That works with chow mein.”
She couldn’t help but smile. He was being an attentive host. “You don’t seem like the herbal tea type.”
He smiled, too. “I have my moments.”
He certainly did. He got up to brew the tea, and her heart went haywire, kind of like when she’d seen him across the room at the bar.
When he returned with two cups of orange pekoe and a plastic squeeze-bottle of honey, she’d already picked at a portion of her food. He sat on the floor and ate his with chopsticks, which made him seem like a trendy L.A. guy. She wondered if he’d grown up in the city. With Rex, it was difficult to tell.
They finished their lunch in silence. Grateful for the tea, she asked for a second cup. He still had water leftover on the stove, so he poured it for her. She sipped the mild brew, letting it warm her insides. The interview was about to begin.
“How many people know about the baby?” he asked.
“A lot,” she admitted. “I told my family and closest friends. The other instructors at my studio know, too, as well as some of the parents and older students. We teach kids and adults.” She placed her cup on a napkin. Rex hadn’t provided a coaster. “I fainted a few times at work, and that got the gossip mill going. I figured there was no point in denying it.” She made a gesture with her hands, creating a pregnant belly. “Eventually I’m going to show.”
“How many of them know that a man named Sixkiller is the father?”
“By now? Probably all of them. Why?” She thought about the brown-haired, brown-eyed doll. It certainly looked more like Rex than herself. “Do you think this is racially motivated?”
“It’s something to consider, especially since the threat was made while you were in my company, and the doll seemed to favor my genetics.”
So he’d noticed, too. Well, of course, he did, she thought. He noticed everything.
He continued. “But I’m not ruling out other scenarios.” He handed her a pen and paper. “I’m going to need a list of your family, friends, students, employees, everyone who knows about the baby.”
She
