Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Hearing the door to the bedroom open a few hours later, I lift my eyes off the information I’ve been going over and watch Hanna step into the kitchen. Even with the dark circles under her eyes, her hair a mess, and wearing a baggy shirt that reaches the middle of her thighs, she’s still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
“Hey, baby.” I close my computer and push back my chair as she wanders over to me.
“I slept a long time,” she says quietly, her voice still sounding scratchy from crying so much last night.
“That’s okay.” I pull her down to sit on my lap and wrap my arms around her. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much. That medicine is a miracle but always knocks me out.”
“And you probably needed the rest. Are you hungry?”
“Not yet. I’m feeling a little nauseous still.”
I rest my hand on her stomach. My first thought this morning when she rushed to the bathroom was that she’s pregnant, and the idea didn’t scare the fuck out of me like it should have. Then again nothing with her scares me.
“When did you last eat yesterday?”
“I don’t know.” She frowns. “I had some pretzels on the plane.”
“It might be good to put something in your stomach, even just a piece of toast.”
“I will in a minute.” She rests her head against my chest under my chin. “Where are Otto and Ham?”
“They just left about an hour ago to check in at the hotel, since they didn’t last night. They’ll be back.”
“They stayed here?”
“They were worried about you.”
“I’m a horrible host.”
“Ham had a bed, and Otto had the couch. Both of them had blankets and pillows. We’ve all had worse. They were fine.”
“I guess.” She sits up when the doorbell rings.
“That’s probably them.” I press my lips to the top of her head, then scoot her off my lap and stand. “I’ll get it while you make yourself some toast.”
“Maybe,” she says, and I give her a look that has her sighing and heading to the kitchen.
When I make it to the front door and open it, it’s not Ham and Otto but a police officer. “Can I help you?” I ask, then turn when I hear someone coming down the steps behind me and see a young guy who must be Josh, Mrs. Lewis’s nephew.
“Hi, I’m Officer Taylor I’m here to speak with Hanna Mayson and Josh Baker,” he says.
Shit.
“Come in and I’ll get Hanna.” I turn to the guy who hasn’t moved toward the door. “Are you Josh?” He nods then looks over my shoulder to the officer who has entered the house. Leaving the two men, I walk back into Hanna’s apartment, and her eyes coming to me over her shoulder as she stands in front of the open fridge. “There’s an officer here to talk to you.”
“He said he would be back today to take my report. I just need to get dressed.” She shuts the fridge and goes to the bedroom, coming out a minute later wearing a pair of sweats. I follow her to the doorway, and the officer speaking with Josh turns to look at her.
“Ms. Mayson, can you give us a minute? And when I’m done speaking with Josh, I’ll knock.”
“Sure,” she agrees, stepping back inside and closing the door.
“Eat something while you wait,” I order, moving her toward the kitchen, and she lets out a disgruntled sigh, but still puts some bread in the toaster and pours herself a glass of orange juice.
When there’s a knock a few minutes later, I shake my head at her when she starts to get up. “I’ve got it.” I stand back to let the officer inside, and he looks around, as I follow him.
“Do you mind if I sit?” he asks Hanna, who’s now standing in the kitchen, her toast and juice forgotten on the counter.
“Of course.” She takes a seat across from him, and I pull up a chair next to her.
“How are you holding up today?”
“Okay. It still doesn’t feel real.”
“That’s understandable.” He nods and pulls out a pad of paper. “Josh said that when he arrived home last evening, you were with his grandmother already, performing CPR.”
“Yes, I had just gotten home, and I found her at the bottom of the steps. I called 999, and they told me to move her and begin chest compressions.” He nods, then jots something down.
“Do you remember what time you arrived home?”
“I don’t know the exact time. I landed at Heathrow at 4:20 p.m. and took the train. I also stopped at the grocery store, so I want to say around 5:30, but it could’ve been a little before or after that.”
“Do you have proof that you were on the plane at that time or a receipt from the store?”
Proof, that one word causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end, and she wraps her hand around my thigh.