Tied Bond (Holly Woods Files, #4) (17 page)

BOOK: Tied Bond (Holly Woods Files, #4)
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“We were datin’.” She sits up and looks me dead in the eye. “It’s true. Did I love him? I don’t think so. Did he make me happy? Sure did, sugar. Made me laugh more times in a day than a
Friends
marathon could in a week. He was a bright spark in my life.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, reaching across the table and taking her hand in mine. “Really, I am.”

“Why? You didn’t kill him. Not your fault.” She squeezes my hand and sits back. “What do you need to know?”

“I need to know who might have killed him. I realize that’s kind of specific.” I pause as Corinne brings two coffees to us then heads back toward the counter. “I don’t think Gianna did it, but the police aren’t pursuing any other leads right now.”

“Wow.” She says it so quietly that it’s barely even a whisper, more like a breath. “I don’t know anyone, darlin’, I’m sorry. We’d only just started seeing each other and only casually. Nothing serious. Companionship at best. If there was anyone who wanted to hurt Wally, he never told me.”

Shoot.

There goes that idea.

 

 

“You’re just going to turn up at the Oleander and see if you can find Kat?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do? She won’t answer her phone, and I know she’s staying there.” I shrug and put my coffee mug down.

My best friend raises her eyebrows and looks at me like I’ve gone insane. “You have no idea what she looks like, Noelle. Plus, have you thought about what you’re going to say to her? You can’t just walk into a hotel to question someone about their dead dad without them knowing about it.”

“Pretty sure they did it once on
CSI
.”

“This isn’t
CSI
. You’re not even a police officer.” She rolls her eyes.

“I was. And I’d pretend to be if I didn’t think Drake would arrest me and throw me in jail for a night to teach me a lesson.”

“At least he’d be arresting you.”

There is that. “The idea of him finally making good on that threat to put me in cuffs is only hot if he’ll be there to keep me occupied.”

“In layman’s terms: fuck your brains out.”

“Precisely. Speaking of getting brains fucked out…” I grin. “I want to know about Jason.”

I’ll come back to thinking about Kat later. Bek does have a point. Even if I could get a photo of her, which would probably be easy thanks to the internet, I can’t exactly spring the conversation on her. I could probably try calling again, and this time, I’ll leave a message. I didn’t want to before because it’s, well, awkward.

Hi. Please call me back so we can discuss the father you’re likely grieving over. I want to prove that his ex-wife didn’t off him.

“I don’t know how I feel about Jason,” Bek admits, leaning back in the chair. She picks at her thumb. “I mean, he’s hot and sweet, but Wally’s dying kind of spoiled the date.”

Yes. I can see how a dead man would be a mood-killer. In fact, pretty sure it happened to me and Drake once.

“Are you going out again?” I ask her.

“I don’t know. He kind of took off when Wally’s body was found, and we haven’t spoken. When I saw Devin yesterday, I asked him if he’d seen Jason, and he said he was assisting them on the case.”

“Ah. The case where they’re not so much investigating but waiting for the evidence to come to them.” I nod slowly. “Why don’t you call him?”

“Because…I don’t know if I want to.” She sucks her lower lip into her mouth and releases it slowly. “I don’t want to look desperate or needy, but then, if I don’t call him when I know he’s obviously busy working, does that look like I don’t care?”

I blink at her several times and take a deep breath before I reply. “Now I remember why you don’t date.”

“I think I’m having a panic attack.”

“Over a phone call?” Carlton appears in the doorway. “Are you thirteen?”

Bek turns and glares at him. “Shut it, kid.”

He rolls his eyes then looks at me. “I have bad news.”

“Oh no. I don’t like it when you have bad news. That means it’s really bad.” That was a bit of a ramble, wasn’t it?

He grimaces. “I can’t get into Wally’s case file.”

“What?” Bek and I exclaim at the same time.

I go on. “What do you mean you can’t get into it? Is it the technological equivalent of a nun’s vagina or something? You can get into anything—probably even the nun if you played your cards right!”

He coughs to cover a laugh and flicks his dirty-blond hair out of his eyes. “Sorry, Noelle. It’s encrypted to Neptune and back.”

“Why is it so encrypted?” Bek asks, looking between me and Carlton. “That’s unusual for them.”

“Because they don’t want Drake looking at the information and they know I’d have Carlton slip in and borrow it,” I guess. It’s probably right. “Then tell him because I can’t keep anything from him.”

“Except the fact that his mom is your client.”

“Shut up.”

“Anyway…” Carlton’s eyebrows draw together slightly as he looks at us. “They’ve probably hired someone to do it. I don’t think any of them have the skills themselves, or every file would be locked that way.”

“Ugh. What little shits they are,” I mutter. “Is that it? Can’t you get into it at all?”

“Well… I have to decode the layers of encryptions and untangle the web of IP address routing. It’ll probably take a few days of solid work to peel it all back, but yeah, I can get into it.”

“I have no idea what you just said to me,” I admit, “except for, ‘I can get into it.’ So… You go do your routing and layering of whatnots and shenanigans.”

He gives me a two-finger salute before disappearing out of my office like a ghost.

Bek stares after him, frowning. “He knows an awful lot about hacking.”

“I know. I’m going to have him change his name on a regular basis so the NSA or FBI won’t try to steal him from me.” I grab a stack of information I need to look over and knock the edges against the table to even up the sheets. I look over the bundle and meet her bright-green eyes. “Either that or I’m going to adopt him.”

“I’d go with the name-changing. Cheaper.” She smirks and pushes her fiery hair from her face. “So, Jason. Should I call him?”

“Text him. If he’s busy, he—” I pause. Yes. Oh, yes. Jason. “My God. I’ve got it.”

“Got what? Herpes?”

“No, but you’ll have a literal case of Slapped Cheek Syndrome if you don’t hush for two seconds.” I grab my phone and dial his number.

Honestly, it’s not hard. Just tap his name on my contacts list. I don’t know why she’s procrastinating so much.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Jason!” I say, grinning when Bek’s eyes widen. “I need to ask your opinion on something, but I’d rather do it face-to-face. When are you free?”

“Uh…you want my opinion? Really?”

“Of course.”

“I guess. I’m on a lunch break right now. I can meet you somewhere.”

“How about Mel’s store? I want a cupcake.” Or ten.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Perfect. See you then.” I hang up and grab my purse, slipping my feet into my shoes at the same time.

“Wait. What the heck are you doing?” Bek stares at me, the deer-in-headlights look still all over her face.

I dig my keys out from my purse. “I’m going to convince Jason to help me, and then I’m going to coyly ask about your date and give him the idea that he should call you.” Mostly because I know I will honestly beat Bek’s ass if this phone call situation goes on and on and on.

“You’re a bitch.”

“I know. And I need you to find out what Katherine Thornton looks like now, then follow her and get caught.”

“Are you insane?” She follows me out the door. “You want me to get caught?”

“Yep.” I run my hand down the banister. “I’m going to pull as much info out of Jason as I can, and while I do, I want you to convince Katherine Thornton to call me whatever way you can.”

“I’m gonna need a raise.”

“Thanks. Love you.” I throw her a grin over my shoulder. “Grecia, I’m out. Unless my nonna is burning down my house, they can leave a message.”

“Got it!” she says, typing at her computer.

I get into my car and make the few-minute journey to Mel’s bookstore and coffee shop. When I pull up outside, Jason’s Audi is parked, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I didn’t want to have to hang around with Mel a great deal, because if her date with Brody really didn’t go well, then, well. Yeah.

I push the door open. Immediately, I find the muscular FBI agent sitting at the counter. Mel is standing behind it with a flirtatious smile stretched across her face and a hand on her hip. She’s looking at the man as though she’s going to cling to him like a koala in a eucalyptus tree.

Oh, man. Holly Woods is
not
big enough for murder and a love triangle. Or is it a square? Either way. There isn’t enough space for all of this crap.

“Hey, Jason.” I put my hand on his upper arm, flashing Mel a smile.

He turns, relief shining back at me in his eyes. “Hey. I got you a coffee, and Mel said you liked the raspberry ones.” He pushes a takeout cup and a pink cupcake toward me.

If I were an emoji, I’d be the one with hearts for eyes right now.

“Thanks. Do you wanna go sit down?”

“You’re the one who wants to talk.” He smirks.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up.” I grab my coffee and my cupcake and go to a table in the corner, at the far end of the bookstore.

Jason’s large frame takes up most of the space, and I’m almost tempted to move, but we’re in a good spot. We can see the door, but we’re surrounded by enough bookshelves that we can keep this conversation private.

“So. What’s up?” He sips his coffee.

“Bek told me that Dev told her that you’re working on Wally’s case.”

“Mmhmm,” he says, his eyes narrowing.

“I need your help.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going.” He leans forward and clasps his hands on the table. “Drake isn’t on this case, Noelle. He’d kill me if I got you involved and something happened to you.”

My lips twitch on one side, and I feel myself grimacing instead of innocently smiling like I was going for. Shit.

“Noelle. Please tell me you aren’t involved.”

I open my mouth and close it again. Purse my lips and then say, “Okay. I won’t.” I lick some frosting off my finger.

Jason groans and drops his head. “Noelle…”

“I’m not the candyman, Jason. You don’t need to say my name three times to make me appear. I’m already here.”

“Hilarious,” he drawls. He looks back up and meets my eyes. “Are you involved?”

“You told me not to tell you.”

“Jesus Christ. You’re like an overgrown child.”

I dip my finger into the cupcake frosting. I’m smiling so damn hard that my cheeks hurt.

“Okay. Tell me why you’re here and what you want from me.”

“If I were single, that would totally be a booty call offer.” I suck the last of my frosting off my nail. “I’m telling you this in the strictest confidence. You can’t tell anyone what I’m telling you.”

“I… Sure.” He frowns.

“I’m involved in the case, but from the opposite angle to you.” I take a deep breath. “I can’t tell you the name of my client—you know that—but I’m stuck. Trent refuses to tell me anything past the name of the prime suspect and that they’re not looking at anyone else as a potential suspect.”

“What do you mean, the opposite angle?”

“I’m looking to prove the innocence of your prime suspect.”

“That’s her lawyer’s job, Noelle.” Jason rests his forearms on the table and leans forward, looking me dead in the eye. “Not yours. This case is straightforward. Even without forensic evidence and witnesses, there’s more than enough circumstantial evidence that no one else needs to be looked at as a suspect.”

My jaw clenches. That’s not what I want to hear.

“Convictions on circumstantial evidence are hard,” I say.

“It’s stacked up. She was seen going upstairs with the victim after a confrontation. No one can verify seeing her leave the premises when she said she left. No one saw anyone go upstairs after them. She tried to bathe after.”

“She also went upstairs with nothing in her hands. She left me to talk with him. There’s no physical way she could have obtained a knife between the path I saw her walk from me, to the door, to the stairs. Kitchen access is behind the bar on the other side.”

“She could have been hiding it under her costume. It was elaborate.”

“Really? That’s your argument? It’s fucking ridiculous.” I press my fingers against my temples. “Listen. I get it, okay? This is technically her lawyer’s job. But, since the entire homicide department in that damn building is so intent on her being the suspect, if there’s no forensic evidence to prove she isn’t responsible, that’s it, Jason. That’s it. She’s going to be arrested, charged, and possibly convicted for something she didn’t do.”

He sits back and holds his arms out. “What do you want me to do? I’m not leading this. I’m assisting, and the single-mindedness in the suspect pool isn’t for a lack of my trying to get them to open their minds. It’s cut-and-dry as far as your brother is concerned.”

“Well, my brother can be a stubborn, egotistical prick sometimes.”

“As opposed to yourself, who is nothing short of an agreeable delight on every occasion.”

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