Hey stranger … LA hasn’t been the same since you left.

The blood rushed to her face, and she felt light-headed. Words from someone she’d truly believed was in her rear-view mirror.

She quickly tossed her phone back on the counter, but Hannah knew it was too late. The sender would have already been alerted to the fact that she’d read the message.

And the follow-up merely confirmed it.

I need to see you.

Chapter 32

WARD

‘Well, hello. I swear you only come out of wherever it is you hide when you want to be fed.’

As if on cue, the cat mewed and Ward figured that was a direct order. He leaned down, grimacing ever so slightly at the action.

Placing some food in Pretzel’s bowl and offering breakfast to his feline friend, he once again felt his mood grow dark about the latest coverage and the fact that Hannah still hadn’t returned his call from yesterday. But it was late when he called so maybe she switched her phone off outside of work hours or something. God knows the damn thing bugged the hell out of you, wanting to be picked up, stroked and played with. Something he’d already known, of course, hence his refusal to ‘get with the times’.

But like it or not, he was part of the collective now. Well and truly assimilated.

Despite himself, he chuckled. Maybe Hannah was actually the Borg Queen in disguise. As if on cue, his tormentor buzzed – but another name popped on the caller ID, and Ward’s foul mood instantly returned. For a moment, he debated not taking it, sending it to voicemail. But he knew that would only delay the inevitable.

When Irene wanted to talk to him, she didn’t rest from her mission until she did.

Stringing together a colourful line of expletives usually reserved for when he was on the ice, Ward grabbed the device and connected the call.

‘Morning, Mom,’ he said sharply. ‘What’s going on?’

A tsk ensued on the other end of the line.

‘Well, isn’t that a way to greet your mother? You know, one day I’m not going to be around and you’re going to have to find someone new to treat like garbage.’

He rolled his eyes at the dramatics and rubbed his right temple – few things could provoke a headache like his mom.

And her timing was always sublime. He breathed through his nose, trying to bring his blood pressure down. No point in starting a fight. Best to simply figure out what she needed and why she was calling, and then hang up. He’d become practised at handling her over the years, if never quite successful.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘Just tired. Have a lot going on these days.’