East Bound Nana Malone (best ereader for students .TXT) 📖

for your statement. If you think of anything else or you know anyone else who may need to come forward, bring them in or tell them to talk to us."

She nodded as she gathered her things, and she swiped the tears off her face with the meaty part of her thumb. It was inelegant and raw, but it was the truth. "Thank you for listening. I didn't think anyone would. For so long, everyone told me I should just forget about it. Take the money he offered."

Amelia dropped her notepad. "He offered you money?"

"Yeah, apparently that's why he'd been trying to reach me in the first place. To sign paperwork. He tried to make my mum sign one too, some kind of NDA or something."

If there was one word to describe the look on Amelia's face, it was haunted. Like she'd been at the brink, looked over and seen the horror scape below.

When Chantal was gone, I stood at the doorway trying to catch my breath.

Amelia called out to me. "Nyla—"

"I need a minute." I couldn't talk to her now. Not about this. My focus was on putting some space and distance between myself and what I'd heard from that poor woman, Chantal. She was never going to be the same because of a man like Bram Van Linsted. And I felt ill at the idea that I was at all connected to him.

And I wasn't ready to hear it if Amelia was still willing to work with him, even after everything she knew. I just wouldn't be able to deal with it. So I did the only thing I could.

I ran.

Nyla

The following day, on my way to meet my new team about the Theroux situation, I opened the door to find Amelia on the threshold. I lifted a brow. "Is this urgent? I have somewhere to be."

She took in my attire in one quick glance. I might have worn a little makeup, and perhaps brushed my hair even. And fine, I had on earrings. Not that this was a date, but East always seemed to see me mildly frazzled. So I'd tried to put in a little effort. Not that I was ever going to admit that to anyone.

"Oh, sorry. You look like you're going out."

"I am. What's wrong? Is it the case?" Thus far, she’d only talked to me when it pertained to the case.

She winced. "Actually, can I come in?"

My stomach flipped. The last thing I wanted to do was get in another shouting match with my best friend. She might not consider me her best friend anymore, because apparently, I was the worst best friend on the planet, but she was still mine.

Stop being melodramatic. She had a couple of good points there.

And maybe I was just always used to following my gut instincts. They were rarely wrong. But maybe I didn't give her enough credit. Maybe all the years working under me had made her resentful, and maybe she was entitled to be so. She hadn't had the same opportunities I had. She’d come from Scotland Yard. All her colleagues and professors loved her, so why was I the one who had moved up, and she the one who had stalled? I'd never thought of it before, But maybe I should have. But I still, under no circumstances, ever wished her harm. We eyed each other as I stepped back into the flat. "Um, yeah, what's up?"

She indicated my earrings. "I always loved that pair. You would never wear them."

The threaders I'd stuck in my lobes were stunning. Silver, with the bottom portion encrusted with diamonds. They were thin and delicate though. And you would only notice the glam factor when I was in the light. "Thanks. I never really have much cause to wear them."

She nodded slowly. It was like we were strangers instead of having spent the last three years working cases together.

She rocked back on her heels and ran her hands through her braids. "Look, I'm just going to say it. I'm sorry about our argument."

I nodded as I watched her warily. "The thing is, Amelia, I'm not entirely sure you need to apologize, but maybe I do. Maybe I'm not directly at fault for the way that you've been feeling, or maybe I am. Maybe I've always sort of automatically taken the lead and didn't give you enough opportunity. Trust me, your words sit with me every day. So just know that I'm thinking about what you said."

She nodded and shifted her gaze down to her feet. "Yeah, thanks for at least acknowledging that."

"I never said you weren’t capable, Amelia, I just want you to know that I always wanted you to have everything you deserve. Even if things were unfair, I will always be rooting for you."

She nodded and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"Okay, what gives? You're acting weird. What's going on?"

"I would very much love to eek an apology out of you, but unfortunately, this time, I'm the one who needs to give it."

"Why?"

"Bram Van Linsted."

I groaned. "Oh God, what now?"

Her brow furrowed and she chewed her bottom lip, as if trying to figure out the right words to use. "You were right about him."

I narrowed my gaze. "Okay, but why do you suddenly think I'm right?"

"Well, for starters, that statement we took from Chantal Anderson yesterday. And what you said last time… I couldn't let it go. It was just in my head over and over again. His own corruption, what he gets out of this, etcetera. But then, I spoke to some of his father's victims, and while we can't connect Bram to his father's activities, we most certainly can look at Bram's own victims. There were a number of women besides Chantal who referred to him as the devil incarnate, and not in a good way. He's corrupt, ruthless, and will ruin people at the drop of a hat, and I should have listened to you."

"Um, okay, apology accepted, I guess." Something she was