A brunette with wavy hair and catlike eyes appeared with a frown, her silk pantsuit flowing freely. “What’s going on, honey?”
Hood jerked his head toward her. “Mitzi, we have company,” Hood said. “Nina and her new detective, Mr. Blackburn.”
“God, Nina,” the woman muttered. “Don’t tell me you’re nagging William again.”
Hood wrapped his arm around Mitzi’s shoulders. “Sorry, sweetheart, but she’s still as crazy as ever.”
“We were discussing the night of the fire in Sanctuary,” Slade cut in. “You seem certain of the facts, Hood, but I spoke with Dr. Emery, the ob-gyn, and I think the case is worth investigating.”
Slade removed the bagged doll from inside his jacket and held it up. “In fact, last night someone left this on Nina’s doorstep.”
Mitzi made a shocked sound, then clung to William’s arm as if she feared Slade had stabbed the doll himself just for effect.
Slade directed his comment to Hood. “Where were you last night?”
Mitzi answered before Hood could respond. “He was with me. All night,” she said with a suggestive smile.
Hood made a clicking sound with his teeth. “Blackburn, you poor, dumb sucker. Obviously Nina forgot to mention a few details about her past.”
“William, don’t,” Nina said in a choked whisper.
“Don’t what, Nina?” Hood scowled at her. “Tell him the truth, that you’ve pulled this same stunt before?”
Slade shot Hood an angry look, but something about the guilt in Nina’s eyes warned him to tread slowly. He was here to investigate, find out the truth, whether or not Nina liked it.
Whether or not he did.
“What are you talking about?” Slade asked.
William’s expression turned pitying. “Nina has a habit of suckering people in with her sweet smile and big, sad eyes. But she’s unstable. She has been for a long time.”
“If you’re referring to the fact that she had a breakdown after her baby went missing, then yes. I am aware of that.”
Hood arched a brow. “So she explained the details of her psychosis?”
Guilt and worry slashed her face. “William, don’t—”
The look Nina exchanged with Hood made apprehension knot Slade’s belly. He’d insisted Nina be honest with him, but apparently she hadn’t shared everything.
“After Nina lost the baby, she did things like this. She bought a rag doll like this one, then claimed that someone stuck a knife in its heart and left it on her doorstep.”
Slade stood ramrod still, forcing himself not to react.
Hood continued, “She also said that she packed up the baby things and stored them in the attic, but then insisted she came home one night and found them scattered across her bedroom.”
“I didn’t scatter those baby things around,” Nina argued. “They were packed away in my closet.”
“That’s not what the psychiatrist reported,” William said, then turned back to Slade. “Nina also swore that someone put a CD of lullabies in her car and that sometimes she’d wake up at night and one would be playing but that she hadn’t started it.”
Nina started to speak, but Hood was on a roll and sneered down at her. “Oh, and did she tell you about the voices? She swears she hears her little girl singing to her at night. A Mary Poppins song, right, Nina?”
“Stop it!” Nina turned and ran from the condo, her sob echoing in the air behind her.
Slade didn’t know what to believe. But he didn’t like Hood and refused to let him bait him, so he gave him a steely look. “If I discover you had anything to do with your child’s disappearance or those things happening to Nina, you’ll pay.” He jabbed a finger at Hood’s chest. “And no amount of money will save you.”
* * *
NINA SLAMMED THE SUV door, and leaned her head into her hands. This couldn’t be happening again.
Yes, she heard the voices. Her daughter singing. But that was real.
Only everyone had made her doubt herself. And then all those creepy things had started happening…and she’d finally broken down.
Heat warmed her cheeks, and she suddenly felt nauseated. The sound of the driver’s door opening rent the air, and Slade’s masculine scent filled the close confines. This morning she’d felt as if she might have found an ally. Maybe even a friend.
But his anger permeated the tension-filled air as he climbed inside, and she found she’d lost that ally now.
God help her. She had to make him believe her. “Slade—”
He threw up a hand, silently ordering her not to speak. “I warned you yesterday when I took this case that you had to be honest with me.”
“But—”
“Stop, Nina,” Slade said in a harsh voice. “Don’t lie to me now or ever again.” He started the engine. “I’m going to talk to your father, and if I discover that you made up the story about this doll to get attention, we’re finished.”
CHAPTER SIX
HURT KNIFED THROUGH NINA, and she folded her arms and stared out the window as Slade drove toward Raleigh.
Her father would probably verify William’s story, paint her as a sad, demented freak just as William had.
She should be used to people’s reactions to her breakdown, but she didn’t know if she’d ever totally become immune.
She had not stabbed the doll and put it on her porch the night before, just as she hadn’t years ago. She also hadn’t strewn baby paraphernalia all over the house or put those CDs in her car and house.
Not that she remembered anyway…
No. She wasn’t going to doubt herself again. The doctors and therapists had almost convinced her that she was delusional with grief and stress and the effects of the antidepressants. But she wasn’t taking antidepressants now, and she had recovered from the breakdown.
Not to mention that the person tormenting her had driven her over the edge.
And now the taunts were starting all over…
Because she’d hired a private investigator.
Couldn’t Slade see that that meant someone didn’t want her learning the truth?
She opened her mouth to argue, but quickly clamped it shut. Hadn’t she learned from experience that protesting and trying to explain only made things worse? Made her sound more pathetic and desperate?
She hated to look pathetic in his eyes.
But how could she explain the voices she heard at night? The little girl’s voice singing to her? The sense that she was singing so Nina would come for her…
The words to the song, her soft soprano voice, was like an angel’s, the voice mesmerizing her just as the Pied Piper’s flute had enthralled the children.
The silence became painful during the drive, Slade’s withdrawal hurting more than she could imagine.
“Tell me about Mitzi,” he finally said quietly.
Embarrassment heated her cheeks. Mitzi had married William…and made a fool of her.
She licked