Tied Bond (Holly Woods Files, #4) (10 page)

I still, much like Gianna does. The last time Drake spoke so sharply, so hoarsely, was when Eddie broke into my house and I shot my window out. The last time he was scared.

He’s terrified of what she’s about to tell him.

“Okay.” Gianna says the word quietly and, leaving the empty glass and filter jug next to the sink, sits opposite him at the table.

I stay hovering in the doorway.

“Noelle,
cara,
sit down. You’re making my kitchen look untidy.”

Silently, I take the seat next to Drake and clasp my hands on my lap. His leg is bobbing beneath the table, the physical manifestation of the nerves I know he’s feeling, so I touch my foot to his. His leg immediately stops the bouncing, and I hook my bare foot around his ankle.

“What happened when you spoke with Wally? At the party?”

“After he arrived?” Gianna asks. “I went to apologize for my behavior in a fight we had yesterday morning. He refused to accept it, so I went upstairs to use the bathroom. He followed me, we exchanged more words, and I realized he wasn’t going to let it drop. So I left.”

Boy, this just gets worse and worse.

“What were you fighting about?”

“My private conversations are exactly that, thank you very much.”

“Mom. This isn’t a joke.” He clenches his fist and raises it before releasing it and letting his hand drop back to the table. Apparently, he’s decided against doing to his mom’s table what he did to his car door.

“I’m not joking,” she responds, her voice unnaturally steady. “Now, I’d like you to tell me why you’re questioning me like you think I committed a murder.”

I take a deep, sharp breath, and she cuts her eyes to me. They’re dark and almost cold—she’s not asking that we tell her. She’s demanding, and that demand is in her eyes. Boy, she’s scary. Nonna has this look. It could bring an army of terrorists to its knees.

“Wally’s dead,” I whisper.

“Noelle!” Drake groans.

“Wally—Wally’s what?” Gianna covers her mouth with her hand, her dark-red nails contrasting against her paling cheeks.

“We found his body,” Drake says. His tone is much softer now, and he reaches across the table and grabs her hand. “Upstairs, in the bathroom. Around thirty minutes after you were seen going upstairs with him.”

I stand and head for the sink and the glass she never got to fill. Then I fill it for her from the filter jug. I almost drop the cold glass as I pick it up, but I manage to keep hold of it long enough to set it on the table in front of her.

“And you think I did it?”

“I want to think you didn’t,” he admits. “But, Mom, the evidence is stacking up against you, and all I know is that you were in the bathroom with him after you’d fought twice in two days, and then you tried to take a bath when you arrived home.”

“Sheriff Bates is going to question me, isn’t he?” Gianna reaches for the cold water and glances at me. “Thank you,
cara
.”

I take my seat again. “You’re welcome.”

“Mom,” Drake continues, slouching forward and pressing his fingers into his temples. “I need you to help me here. Did you do it?”

She smiles sadly and runs her fingertip around the ring of her glass. “No, son. I didn’t do it. I was angry with him, but not that angry.” She swallows and looks out the window.

Nobody speaks for a long moment, and tension fizzles in the air, dancing with nerves and unsaid words. Finally, when it breaks, it’s Gianna with words I never thought she’d say.

“Will you call Sheriff Bates and tell him I’ll be at the police station for his questions within the hour?”

He opens his mouth and stares at her for a split second before closing it. He nods, stands, and pulls his phone out on his way out of the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” I ask her as soon as he’s out of earshot.

“I… I don’t know.” She tries for another smile but falls short. Instead, she gives me a heartbroken twitch of her lips that looks a lot more like she’s trying not to cry. She runs her tongue across her bottom lip. “I don’t know if it’s real, Noelle. It doesn’t feel real.”

Damn.
“I wish I could tell you it wasn’t.”

“Now, don’t you go feeling guilty over things you can’t control. I just need a little time for life to do its thing and my mind to accept it.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Why are you going to the station now? It’s almost as if—”

“I’m giving myself up?” She raises an eyebrow and sips her water. “I suppose I am, in a way. I didn’t kill Wally, but my alibi is closer to a confession than anything else. I’d like to go, give Sheriff Bates my version of the events, then come home before reality hits me.”

“I understand. Do you want company?”

“I would love it, but out of us all, Drake needs you more. You stay with him,
cara
.” She gets up, finishes her water, and sets the glass in the sink. “I will call him in the morning.” She gently pats my cheek and sweeps past me, an air of sadness hovering around her.

“I’ll ask Mom to meet you there,” I say to her retreating back.

“Thank you,” she whispers over her shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“I’m not kidding, Drake. Your mom has a look Nonna would be proud of. I’m half tempted to send them both to the Middle East. They’d solve the terrorism problem in a heartbeat.”

He rolls his eyes and finishes buttoning his shirt. “That’s a slight exaggeration.”

“Is it? I blurted out about Wally last night because she intimidated me. Do you know how often I get intimidated?”

“Only on Tuesdays, and only for five minutes before you get over it and go Noelle on their ass.”

“Precisely! And it isn’t Tuesday!”

“Are you more offended that a man died or that you got intimidated by my mother?”

“Honestly, it’s kind of fifty-fifty right now. I’m not personally involved or going to be involved with the dead guy, but I
am
smack-dab in the middle of the intimidation issue.”

He turns, one eyebrow raised. “You mean you’re not going to meddle in the case?”

“No. I’m going to behave myself. I’m going to go to my office, check in with my staff, eat a cupcake or two, then do my work.”

“And have Carlton hack the system for information?” He prods me in the back when I grab my shoes and head for the stairs.

“Nope. I swear I’m keeping out of Wally’s case. I’m not connected to the victim, it’s not high-profile enough that the mayor needs to hire me, and it’s probably going to be a one-off event.” I hold three fingers up and turn at the bottom of the staircase. “Therefore, I have no reason to be involved, and I’m going to keep my cute, little ass out of it.”

“I give it twenty-four hours before you’re getting involved.” He puts his shoes on and grabs his jacket. “I know you, sweetheart. You’re nosy. You’re probably going to put in a ‘business call’ to Trent and see what information he’ll give you.”

“I don’t need to. Mom is calling me when I get into the office with some information she gleaned from your mom’s interview.” I grab my purse and phone and grin. “See?”

“That’s still getting involved.” He sighs.

“No, it isn’t. I didn’t ask her.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Absolutely. It’s my thing. What can I say?”

“I don’t even have a response to that.” He laughs and locks the front door behind us. “Although I’m not complaining. It would be nice to get through one murder in this town without you coming face-to-face with a killer.”

I wrinkle my face up. “It’s usually more…face-to-gun.”

He groans and unlocks the truck. “Please don’t remind me. If I have to remember you staring down a killer, I’d like to forget that it was a damn gun barrel you actually looked at.”

“Okay. Face-to-face. That works too.”

“No, it doesn’t. Now that you’ve reminded me, I’m going to imagine a masked man bursting into your office to shoot you.”

“Don’t worry. We all have guns.”

“Carlton has a gun? I thought he liked superheroes and shit. Does he know how to use it properly?”

I roll my eyes. “I think so.”

Drake cuts his eyes to me. “You should probably find out.”

Yeah. Probably.

“O
ooh, cupcakes!”

“You know,” Mike drawls as I drop my purse on the floor and reach for the Gigi’s box in the middle of the meeting room table, “six months ago, you threatened to put a clause in our contracts that required us to bring Gigi’s to meetings, yet you’re still surprised when you come into one and there’s a box of cupcakes on the table.”

“Yes. Yes, I am, Mike.” I shoot him an innocent smile and rip the sticker on the box before opening it. “Oooh, cookie dough! And lemon!”

“Again with the surprise.”

“I can fire you, you know.”

“You can, but you won’t.”

“Shut up.” I take the cookie dough cupcake and smack Mike’s hand when he reaches for the lemon one. “No. No lemon cupcake for you.”

“Miss Noelle, I bought two lemon cupcakes.” Dean points to the one at the back.

“And this is why you’re my favorite, Dean.”

“We’re picking favorites?” Bek comes in. “Ooh, cupcakes!”

“Were you two conjoined twins who were separated at birth?” Carlton asks without looking up from his laptop screen. As usual, his fingers are flying across the keyboard. He’s probably typing that computer coding language thingy I’ll never understand.

At least I can work my printer now. That’s something.

“I can fire you too,” I warn him, pulling the tiny cookie from the frosting.

“Buuuut you won’t.”

“Okay. We have a problem when that isn’t a threat.” I shove the cookie in my mouth then pull my file from my purse and slap it onto the table. “Plans for the week. Mike. Go.”

“Calling Mrs. Porter to arrange a follow-up meeting for this week, surveillance on Ashley Hooper, and a meeting with Danny Lucas about his sister’s husband.”

“Dean?”

“Wrapping up several open cases. Some came through, some didn’t, and starting with Mrs. Smith’s concern about her daughter’s boyfriend.”

“Ahh, a meddling mom. Have fun.” I smile. “Bek?”

“Catching up on paperwork, surveillance on a kid in college in Austin, and updating you on my date.”

“You had a date?” Mike, Dean, and Carlton all ask.

“Seriously? Everyone. Every single time. Y’all would think I’ve never dated.”

“You try to,” Carlton says, “but it never gets to an actual date.”

“Everyone does have a point, Bek.” I shrug. “Carlton? What are your plans for the week?”

“Whatever anyone asks me to do.” He taps one key several times. “But, in the meantime, destroying a village on this game.”

“You know, buddy.” Mike leans forward. “There’s a reason you’re single.”

“You know,
buddy,
I control the security cameras in the building, and I’m excellent at video editing. I’m not sure the boss would like it if I happened to drop a tape on her desk that showed you having sex on your desk.”

“Game, set, and match.” I laugh quietly and close the cupcake box. “All right, y’all. Get to work now. Cheaters aren’t gonna snoop on themselves, and checks won’t suddenly appear on my desk. Hey! Hands off.” I slap Mike’s hand away from the box again. “You’ll get a cupcake when you’ve worked all day.”

“What? Is a cupcake the damn bonus now?”

“Yes. Now, beat it before I beat you.”

He stands and grins. “You know you’re real lucky we all love you.”

“I know, and as your boss, I promise to exploit this at every turn.” I grab my things, pick the cupcake box up, then walk out of the room.

Laughter from everyone follows me, and I smile to myself as I head for the staircase.

“Noelle!” Grecia calls.

I turn, and she’s poking her head out of her office, her dark hair falling around her eyes.

“Yep?”

“Gianna Moretti is coming to see you soon.” Her expression is grim, her lips pursed. “She doesn’t have an appointment, but I figured it was okay.”

“Always okay,” I tell her, resuming my journey up the stairs.

Something nags in my lower stomach like my gut is trying to tell me something about this. Honestly, the idea of Gianna coming to see me is terrifying. Not because I’m scared of her, but because I know she’ll get here before my mom calls and, by the time I leave the office, I’ll be involved in Wally’s case.