A Minor Technicality [Completed] *Slowly Editing*

Chapter 18 - Liar, Liar

Luca's POV

I stared at the petite blonde wrapped around my chest. As Blythe's sobs had gradually softened to whimpers, she had fallen asleep again, pressed to my chest. Questions bombarded my mind, and I yearned to wake her and find the answers, but I knew she was exhausted and needed sleep. Twice that day, I'd been certain she was about to tell me something significant. She was hiding something from me, and the longer I knew her, the more that disturbed me.

When she'd begun desperately calling my name in her sleep, I'd almost panicked. She sounded broken, and her sobs had only increased. Then she had begun apologizing to me, repeatedly, and that had concerned me even more. Why would she possibly need to apologize to me? I thought waking her would bring her from her nightmare and calm her, but she had only cried harder when she realized she was awake. Her eyes had seemed tortured, and she held me so tightly to her, I grew filled with angst.

I leaned my head against her hair and inhaled that enticing scent of orange blossoms. I contained my moan of contentment and allowed my mind to wander to the Fitzgerald case. I was hoping Walker would call soon with an update. By now, the ex-fiancé should have been able to get a phone number from the little sister. I only hoped the phone number wasn't from a payphone or a disposable cell phone.

Blythe murmured something under her breath and burrowed further into my embrace. A smirk played on my lips at how comfortable she seemed. Her dreams now seemed to be much calmer, and I noticed the occasional smile flit across her lips.

When my phone began to ring, I had to suppress the urge to jump in excitement. I was hoping that Walker would be quick in calling, but I was disappointed when I saw a number I didn't recognize. Trying not to wake Blythe, or any other sleeping passengers, I lifted the phone to my ear and answered quietly.

"This is Morelli."

A deep voice with a Midwestern accent replied. "Is Blythe Conners there?"

My eyes lifted in surprise. As I wasn't expecting a phone call from anyone other than Blythe's mom, I was on alert.

"Who's asking?" I replied gruffly.

"This is Charlie," the man answered. "Who is this?"

"Charlie?" I answered in shock. The person on the other end of the phone line had to be a grown man, not a middle school boy.

"Yes, Charlie," he griped. "And you are?"

"Detective Luca Morelli," I answered, filling my voice with as much authority as possible.

"Oh, thank god," he sighed, relief evident in her tone. "She's with a detective?"

"Yes," I confirmed warily. "You still haven't explained who YOU are, sir," I probed, my tone curt.

"I already said. I'm Charlie, her ex-fiancé."

I practically jumped out of my seat at his statement, but Blythe's small form stopped me. I didn't want to wake her yet.

"What kind of sicko are you?" I growled. "How old are you, sir?"

His tone was baffled as he answered, "I'm twenty-three, Detective. Why?"

"What the hell?!" I growled.

"Uh," he began curiously. "I'm not sure I understand what the problem is. We were engaged to be married. She called off the wedding. Why are you so upset with me about that?"

"Are you kidding me, you asshole? You're twenty-three fucking years old, and that girl is only twelve." My voice was as harsh as I could make it while keeping myself from yelling. The only answer to my outburst was a dark chuckle on the other line.