Drawn in Blood (Burbank and Parker 2)

Sloane glanced over at the small fridge in the corner. “Water would be great, thank you.” Requesting the water served two purposes. To ease the mounting tension. And to give her something to keep her hydrated so she didn’t pass out during what promised to be a long, draining conversation.

Wallace got out two bottles and handed one to Sloane.

He uncapped his and stood beside his large teak desk, watching her.

“I think you should sit down,” Sloane suggested.

An odd expression crossed his face, a mixture of apprehension and worry. “All right.” He walked around and sat down behind the desk. “This sounds very serious.”

“It is. And I wish more than you could ever imagine that I didn’t have to tell you this.”

“Go on.”

“It concerns Meili.”

Wallace started. Clearly, it was the last thing he’d expected. “Your father told you about Meili?”

“He didn’t have to. I found out about her from her closest friend. The friend is here in New York, recovering in a women’s shelter from an abusive marriage.” Sloane pulled out the photo of Lucy and Meili and handed it to Wallace.

He studied it for a long time, his gaze growing soft and faraway. “Meili. Beautiful and unique.” His head came up. “You said her friend is in New York. Is Meili here as well?”

“No.” Sloane uncapped her water and took a fortifying gulp.

Something in Sloane’s tone must have served as a warning, because Wallace tensed. “She’s still in Hong Kong then,” he decided aloud. “What did her friend tell you?”

“About your relationship. About what happened once it ended. Everything except your name, which Meili never revealed. I only learned it was you Meili’s friend was describing this past Friday. At Phil’s wake. After I met Cindy. I dragged the background story out of my father. He didn’t want to tell me. But the situation was critical, far more than even he knew. He still doesn’t know everything. You had to hear it first.”

“What situation?” Wallace demanded. “Why is it critical? And what is it about Meili that I have to hear?”

Sloane steeled herself. “There’s no easy way to say this. Meili is dead. She died three weeks after she broke things off with you.”

Wallace winced, lowering his gaze to stare at the floor. “How?”

“Suicide.” Sloane made it as short and devoid of details as possible.

“Suici

de?” Wallace’s head snapped up. “Impossible. Meili was a survivor. Strong and independent. She’d never take her own life. You must have the wrong woman or the wrong story.”

“I wish that were so. But it’s not. Wallace, Meili was pregnant,” Sloane told him quietly. “It was your child. She didn’t realize it until after she’d sent you away.”

“Pregnant…oh dear Lord.” Wallace’s water bottle struck the desk with a thud. “And she didn’t even contact me…”

“She was too proud to contact you. She went to her father. But he turned her away. The shame and dishonor were too much for her.”

“So she killed herself.” Wallace’s voice was choked. He was also still clearly in shock. “She killed herself and our child. All because I wasn’t there for her.”

“Wallace, you couldn’t have known—”

“How?” he interrupted, not even hearing Sloane’s words.

“How what?”

“How did she kill herself? Pills? Drowning? How?”

Sloane gritted her teeth. “She slit her wrists.”

Wallace shuddered, and his Adam’s apple began furiously going up and down as he choked back emotion. “Sloane, I’d like to be alone now.”