CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“WHAT THE HELL, URSULA?” Frankie marched through Ursula’s front door that night. “I’ve been calling you all day. Why haven’t you answered my calls?”
“Frankie.” She looked toward the hall, holding her robe closed. “This isn’t a good time right now.”
“Tough.” He walked into the den and plopped on the couch. “I need you to be honest with me.” He struggled to control his anxious breathing. “Did you do something? Baby, if you did you can tell me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you spoken to the police lately?”
“No.” She slinked toward him, hips gyrating. “Did they have more news about Boyce?”
“Aren’t you keeping up with the investigation? Don’t you care?”
She sat beside him. “Can we talk later?”
“The cops think we did something to Boyce.”
“That’s insane.”
“Oh y
