Deadly Desire by Renee Pawlish

Author:Renee Pawlish [Pawlish, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creative Cat Press
Published: 2024-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Abby Thornhill worked in a residential neighborhood. As she’d said, the address was a small ranch-style house with a detached garage and parking behind the house. I pulled into a tight space, pocketed my badge, and got out. A few teenagers milled around the back patio, and a sign on the door read simply, “Counseling Services.” The teens eyed me carefully as I smiled and stepped into a kitchen. To the right were stairs and a hum of voices, and past that was an office with two metal desks. A woman was working on a computer, and she turned when she heard me enter.

“Are you Detective Spillman?”

I nodded. “Abby?”

She got up and nodded, and as she came into the small kitchen, the teenagers walked in, talking loudly and jostling each other.

“Hey, guys, keep it down,” she chided them.

“Sorry,” one of them said. “We’re waiting for group.”

Abby glanced at her phone. “You have about twenty minutes. Either wait outside, or wait quietly in the living room.”

They didn’t say another word, only moved past us and into a small living room crowded with a couch and chairs. Abby threw me a rueful smile.

“It’s always busy around here. Come with me.”

I followed her through an arched doorway, and she went to the left. To the right, all three teenagers were on their phones, and now they were quiet. Abby walked into an office with a small couch, a desk in the corner, and a bookcase near a window that looked onto the back yard where I could see my car.

“I can tell this isn’t what you expected,” she said.

I didn’t reply as I took a seat on the couch. She sat at her desk and put her hands in her lap. My gaze took in the room: off-white walls that needed a fresh coat of paint and worn carpet. However, the room was decorated with artistic ceramics and carvings and framed architectural photographs on the walls.

“Did you take those?” I asked.

“Yes. Photography is a hobby. I like to get outside. It helps me relax.”

“I understand.”

She looked around as well. “This is a small agency, and we work with abused teens and their families. A lot of the money goes back into helping them.”

“I’m here about Neil and Gloria Lott,” I began.

She stared at me. “Before I can talk to you about anyone, I need to see a court order.”

“Of course.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked my email. “A judge sent the document to me.” I held out the phone for her. “This should work.”

She leaned forward and looked at the phone, carefully perusing the document that I’d opened. Then she nodded. “Could you send that to me, please.”

“Of course.”

She rattled off her email address, and once I’d sent the document, she read it again. I noticed a fragrant smell from a plant on her desk. Once she finished, she pivoted in the chair and looked at me.

“I need to be careful. The last thing I need is to be tangled up in a lawsuit.

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