Tied Bond (Holly Woods Files, #4) (33 page)

Good Lord.

It’s too Monday for this level of horniness. I haven’t even finished my coffee yet and my libido has a tornado warning out inside my body.

“This isn’t going to get me to the office on time for the staff meeting,” I gasp, tilting my head back as he brushes his lips down my neck to my where my pulse is pounding. “Drake.”

“Mmhmm.” He flicks his tongue over my skin.

I swallow a tiny moan. “Drake.”

“Your saying my name like that isn’t convincing me to stop.”

“Like what?”

“Like you like what I’m doing.” He slides one hand down my body and cups my ass cheek.

“Irrelevant,” I breathe when he squeezes my butt and grazes his teeth across my neck. “You know what I like.”

“Exactly.” He laughs softly and pulls my hips against his.

His cock is hard, straining against his pants, and it pushes against my lower stomach as he brings his mouth back to mine and kisses me deeply. The kiss is hard and needy, and as his tongue teases mine, it draws a low moan from me, and whatever resistance I had a moment ago disappears.

“Stop,” I gasp, sliding my hands around his body so they’re flat against his stomach. “Let me follow Kat today and then I’ll delay my meeting.”

“Are you using sex to get what you want?”

I blink at him innocently. “No. I’m using sex to get you to let me do what I want, which by default, gets you what you want. So really, you’re the one using sex, since sex is what you want.”

“You have an amazing way of twisting things, don’t you?” He releases me, stepping back. “You can’t follow her to Houston. It’s not going to do you any good to drive out there again today.”

I suck my lower lip into my mouth, releasing it with a squeak. “You’re right! I’ll send Bek and Carlton out there.”

Drake opens his mouth in disbelief but instead settles for adjusting his pants over his erection and going back to his coffee while I reach for my phone. I text Bek since it’s still pretty early for her to be up, but she surprises me by responding almost instantly. It’s a begrudging agreement to drive to Houston, but I brighten her day by reminding her that there’s a Gigi’s there and she can take Carlton to see if he can hack into any cameras or anything in the building.

Who knows with that boy?

“Done?” Drake asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.” I grin and set my phone down. Then I hold my arms out.

He sweeps me against him once more and drops his mouth onto mine. The re-ignition of my desire is instant. I shiver as he bites my lower lip, which makes me gasp, and—

Someone knocks at my front door.

“Fucking hell!” Drake snaps, letting me go again. This time, he throws his arms in the air and storms around me, out of the kitchen, and to my front door. He angrily turns the key and yanks the door open.

Without turning off my alarm.

Which is now blaring loudly on a frequency that should really only be recognized by canines.

“Fucking hell!” he repeats, hitting the button on the alarm box while my giggles bubble over at his frustration. “Of all the nights you forget to set it, it couldn’t have been last night?”

I smile sweetly through my laughter.

“Stop laughing.”

“You do it to me all the time. Think of this as payback. And I didn’t set the alarm last night—you did.”

“Shit,” he mutters, turning to person at the front door. “Trent.”

My eyes dart left and right. Just because we had an amicable conversation yesterday doesn’t mean we’re going to today. I mean, I still haven’t had my damn coffee. It’s too early for this shit.

I dart through the door that joins the kitchen to the living room as Drake invites my brother in. He takes him through to the kitchen, and I tiptoe through the room, into the hallway, and toward the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Drake asks the second my toes hit the bottom stair.

I slowly turn to face him only to see the smug smirk on his lips. “Going to the bathroom.”

“You have a bathroom downstairs.”

Shit. So I do.

“No toilet paper,” I lie.

“Yes, there is. I replaced it this morning.”

“You can’t put the seat down but you can replace my toilet paper? Jesus. You’re a strange, strange man.”

“Trent wants to talk to you.” His smirk grows.

I take a deep breath, begrudgingly turning away from the stairs and toward the kitchen.

“And yes,” Drake continues. “I replace toilet paper but leave the seat up. I’m a man, sweetheart. It’s one or the other.”

“I don’t care. I’m still going to put the seat up in the hopes you’ll plunge into the icy depths of the lavatory.” I sniff and walk into the kitchen, where Trent is fixing himself a coffee. “Good morning, Trent. How are you, Trent? Would you like a cup of coffee, Trent? Go ahead and make yourself a cup, Trent.”

“Morning, brat,” he replies, turning the machine off and spinning to face me. “I see you’re in a fucking delightful mood.”

“As always. What do you want?”

“For the record, I’m fine, and thank you for the coffee.” He snorts then sips. “I have to tell you something.”

“I’m assuming you didn’t find a money tree in your backyard by your expression.”

“No, but I did find a pack of Crayola crayons that Sil planted in the hopes of a crayon tree after we confiscated his for drawing on his bedroom walls.”

“Did it grow anything?” I slide back into my seat.

“It grew him a week’s grounding and a ban from his kid’s Kindle,” he responds. “But no. It isn’t good news.”

“I’m assuming Drake should sit down.”

“Lie down, put his fingers in his ears, sing ‘la la la.’” Trent shrugs a shoulder. “I figured y’all would do better hearing this from me.”

“Oh, fuck.” Drake drops onto the seat next to me and buries his hands in his hair. “I know what you’re gonna say,” he says quietly. “Just fuckin’ say it and stop assin’ around, Trent.”

“We got another report back from the lab this morning. The skin cells we found beneath Wally’s fingernails belong to—”

“Mom,” Drake finishes for him, looking up. “And let me guess. You’re going to arrest her right now.”

Trent slowly shakes his head, setting his mug down on the counter next to him. “No. I refused.”

“You...did what?” I find his eyes.

“Refused,” he repeats, looking from Drake to me. “Sheriff Bates is there right now. He wants to take her in so the town thinks she’s being questioned again to keep the gossip brigade at bay.”

Drake shoves his chair back from the table and stands. “I’m going down there.”

“Is that a—”

“Yes,” Trent interrupts me, glancing at Drake. “Make a fuss about a third questioning, will you? He’s booking her in in private until we’re ready to release the information—and so you can be there with her. I’d probably call her attorney on the way. She’s gonna need it.”

Drake nods sharply, kisses the top of my head, then disappears. The second the front door slams behind him, I slump forward on the table, barely able to look up at my brother.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“You’re not gonna yell at me?”

“What’s the point? It’s done, isn’t it? Gianna’s guilty, arrested, charged, and will be convicted. There’s nothing else I can do.” I sigh heavily. “It’s over.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

“What the hell do you mean?” I sit up a little.

Trent takes the seat opposite me and pinches the bridge of his nose before he talks. “Look, Noelle,” he says in a low voice, meeting my eyes. “I know you think I think Gianna is guilty, but I don’t. Not really. I only agreed to head up this case to try to prove the evidence wrong, and I was failing until you pulled out the life insurance policies. It bought her a little time, but not much. Sheriff Bates is under immense pressure from the mayor to solve this case, and that’s why he’s taken Gianna in although there’s no concrete forensic evidence for her conviction.”

“I still don’t follow, Trent.”

“This is convincing, but it’s not enough. There isn’t enough forensic evidence to prove that she did it beyond reasonable doubt.” He leans forward. “It’s a decoy arrest. She doesn’t know it. Drake doesn’t know it. Only Sheriff Bates and I know it, and now, you.”

“A decoy? You’re hoping the real killer will do something stupid if they think they’re safe?”

When he nods, I continue.

“Then why pretend she’s being questioned?”

“Because, when Drake gets down there, he’ll be told very loudly that she’s being arrested and it’ll be through town in seconds. Listen to me, Noelle. They managed to pull a print from the dried blood on the knife. It looks like there’s two people’s blood on the knife, but that’s only early testing.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to do your damn thing in this case. We’re working on getting the print to a stage where we can run it through the system and DNA to test the blood. One is most definitely Wally’s, but the other is unknown.” He stands and pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. He keeps hold of it as he takes two big mouthfuls of his coffee. “I have to go down to the station to push these tests through the lab. And, if anyone asks, this fell out of my pocket when I took a call.” He puts the folded piece of paper on the table and pushes it toward me with one finger.

I stare at it for a moment then look up at him. “What is it?”

My brother winks, taps the table, and heads for the door. I pick the paper up and unfold it. I have to squint to make sense of his scratchy handwriting before it hits me.

“Trent, is this your login to the system? For Wally’s file?”

He stops at the front door and looks over his shoulder. His expression is blank, but his eyes are dancing with mischievous amusement. “I don’t know. I have no idea what you’re holding.”

That’s all he says before leaving my house and shutting the door behind him.

Sneaky. Little. Bastard.

“H
ere.” I slam the paper down in front of Carlton in the middle of the meeting table. “Screw the meeting. Log in and get me these files now.” I flatten my hands on the table and lean forward, over him, as he opens his laptop and boots it up.

“Police server?” he frowns.

“Yes. My brother dropped this when he pulled his phone out of his pocket and didn’t realize. A strategically placed foot is my savior today.”

“Sure he did,” Bek snorts, pulling some croissant off and shoving it into her mouth.

“Aren’t you supposed to be going to Houston?” I shoot a glare at her as Carlton furiously hammers his fingers against his keyboard.

“I was,” she replies. “Then you texted me just as we were leaving to stay put, so here I am, complete with my breakfast.”

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot that.”

“You texted me five minutes ago.”

“Shut up, you.” I turn to Carlton. “Don’t say anything out loud, just get me into the system.”

“‘Kay,” he mutters, still typing.

“They arrested Gianna?” Bek gasps, looking up from her phone.

“Yes. Not important.” I wave her off. “Jesus, Carlton, are you resetting his login?”

“Someone has a tumbleweed up her ass this morning,” he mutters, turning his laptop around. “Here. This is Wally’s specific file. I rerouted my IP so they think it’s someone in the police station in town.”

“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds like it’s helpful, so thanks. And I’m going to overlook the tumbleweed comment because you did this for me.” I pat his cheek and sit down, turning my full attention to the laptop.

Much of what there is—including the autopsy—is stuff I already knew or have worked out for myself.

I sigh heavily and sit back. The newest stuff is what Trent just told me before “losing” his login details, and I’m not sure what motive he had other than giving me...

That’s it.

He didn’t give me this to tell me what they already know.

He gave me his details so I can keep an eye on the information and new evidence.

You know, sometimes, I think my brother is smarter than I give him credit for. Not that I’ll ever tell him, or anyone, that, but still. I can think it then forget about it.

I slump back in the chair anyway. My patience with this whole situation is running thin, and I don’t care if Gianna’s arrest is nothing more than a decoy. It’s a bullshit thing for them to do, and if I weren’t so determined to actually figure this out, I’d be marching my ass down there and giving them a piece of my mind.

Passionately, not angrily, of course.

“What do you need us to do?” Bek asks, wiping grease off her fingers. “What are
you
going to do?”

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” I close Carlton’s laptop and look at him. “Take the data stick thingymamagic so you can get online from this and keep an eye on the information. On the drive to Houston, look at all the CCTV evidence they’ve obtained for the case so far and use your fancy skills to see if you can get anything from it. They’ve probably spent hours going over and over this and can’t see left from right on the tapes now.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to do what I can do. Sit on my ass, send stuff to the accountant so y’all can get paid, and rig something up in Wally’s house.”

“You’re what?” Carlton laughs.

“You think I can’t do that? I don’t trust her. All it needs is a bug in a plant pot.”