Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #5) (20 page)

“That was strange.” I put the phone down and frown at it like it’s the culprit of the vague request.

“What was?” Bek straightens in her seat.

I summarize the conversation for her. “I wonder what she wants to give me.”

She shrugs. “Can I come with you? I have to meet Jason after, and he said he’d be there early.”

“Meet Jason, huh?”

“I know... But I think Alison had a point last night. Maybe I can’t keep waiting for nothing, so we’re going to talk. I think he understands I’m apprehensive to take things further until he’s guaranteed to stay in Austin.” She twirls an auburn curl around her finger. “That is reasonable, isn’t it?”

“Sounds it.”

“That was it? All she said?” Drake shrugs a clean, white shirt on and buttons it up.

The official memo for the memorial states no formal attire, but the man wouldn’t be caught dead going anywhere near a memorial without wearing a shirt at least.

I nod, opening a box that holds a pair of my favorite black heels. “I’m hoping it’s something actually helpful, like a journal or something, and that she’s actually read it. I don’t want to spend another three hours trying to find information for no reason.”

“I know the feeling. We’re hitting dead end after dead end. All we have are theories, and unless we get something else soon, we’re probably going to have to let the case run cold.”

“Has Tim ruled it a homicide yet?”

“Still not officially. He wants to be sure the head wound caused, or at least almost entirely contributed to, her death.”

“Entirely contributed. Like she was knocked out and died once she was unconscious instead of instantly?”

“Yes. He’s trying to get a thumbtack into granite though, if you ask me. With literally nothing other than her fractured skull, I don’t know how he can give us another cause of death. There’s no body left to test for anything.”

“So, why is he keeping it?”

Drake shrugs as he finishes tucking his shirt into his jeans and tightens his belt. “Who knows, babe? He can hold her for a little while longer, and I think it’s because the longer he has her, the longer we’re actively working on the investigation.”

That makes sense. “Do you really think it’s unsolvable if we don’t come up with something soon?”

“Unfortunately, it looks like it. It’s been fifteen years. We’ve already discovered major flaws in the original investigation, evidence they didn’t find in terms of the letters, and other stuff internally. If they’d found her letters back then, they may have solved it despite the issues they had.”

I can’t deny that. “She didn’t want the letters to be found.”

“Doesn’t deny that her having a hollow bed is something they should have found out.”

I roll my eyes as I stand and straighten my dress out over my hips. “I found out by accident—because I kicked the bed as I stood. I don’t expect any of them sat on her bed and reminisced.”

He lightly touched the top of my arms and kisses me on the forehead. “Point well made. Come on. Let’s go. I wanna know what Stacia has for you.”

I follow him to the stairs and down them. “I just hope we don’t run into a certain somebody.”

“You mean in case she’s telling people you’re about to propose to me?”

“I will push you down these last few stairs, Drake Nash.”

He chuckles, stopping and turning at the bottom. I thrust my bottom lip out in a pout when he doesn’t move, but it quickly disappears when he tightly wraps his arms around my waist. Despite the fact that I’m wearing three-inch heels and on a step higher than him, we’re the exact same height.

Damn his gigantic stature.

“Sweetheart,” he says in a low voice. “I told her to get out.”

“It doesn’t matter. Hell, it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t matter. I’m mad at her, and I’m gonna stay mad at her until she apologizes to me.”

His blue eyes meet mine, laughter shining in them. “She ain’t gonna apologize. You know that.”

“Then I’m gonna stay mad. Can we please go now?”

“You don’t wanna talk about it?”

I put my hands on his biceps and lean back slightly, which causes him to tighten his grip on my waist. “Why would I? We’re just gonna get in a fight, and we have stuff to do.”

He looks at me for a moment before pulling me toward him. I lean right against his body, my lips finding his, and close my eyes as the taste of minty toothpaste coats my mouth.

My fault. I kept telling him that he had a piece of lettuce between his teeth he couldn’t see, so he brushed them three times before I admitted the truth.

“You’re thinking about the toothbrush thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs against my lips.

I nod, smiling. “Come on. If we don’t leave now, we’ll never get there in time.” I scoot past him, finally descending the bottom stair, and grab his truck keys from the dish. I throw them back over my shoulder, and his deep laugh tells me that I didn’t chuck them hard enough, because he caught them.

Damn. Shoulda turned before I threw them.

We’re halfway out of the driveway when a thought so sudden that I gasp and grab Drake’s arm slams into my mind.

“Holy shit!” He slams on the brakes and grabs my hand. “Are you okay?”

“Her locker!”

He blinks at me. “What?”

“Daniela’s locker. At school.” I snap my head around and meet his eyes. “The report—they never searched it.”

“Again... What?”

I’d roll my eyes, but there’s no time. “Just drive and I’ll explain.” I shift around in my seat as he does as he was told. “I reread the police report Jason brought me this afternoon. Her school locker isn’t mentioned anywhere in it. The contents would have been boxed up by the principal and handed to her parents.”

“Where they’ve probably stayed, untouched, ever since. Maybe until now.”

“Exactly.” I’m excited. Oh my god. My tummy is, like, ticklish inside. “Even if this isn’t what Stacia has for me, we can ask. Daniela was notoriously private about the contents of her locker, more so than we were. What if it’s because that’s where she hid her real journal?”

He slides his eyes across to me. “Is that where you hid your real journal?”

“How do you know I had fake one?”

“Whose idea do you think it was to take the wire cutters to the shitty little lock?”

I’m not sure why I’m surprised. “Whatever. Point is: If there is a real journal she hid in her locker, it’s gonna be exactly what we need, Drake! It could have more answers!”

“Calm down. You’re jumping to conclusions quicker than an Olympic diver going for gold.”

I groan. I know I am, but the prospect of having some form of real evidence here is too great not to be excited about.

The gravel that coats the church driveway and parking lot crunches beneath the truck’s tires as we pull in. There are lots of cars here, so we’re lucky to get a spot.

Lots of cars isn’t all there is. The media is here, sprawled on the road on the opposite side of the church. Some of the junior police officers are headed up by Devin, making sure they don’t come any closer to the church. A familiar brown head comes into view, and I grin. Cattily, for sure.

I nudge Drake with my elbow. “Miss Holly Woods News is playing with the media.”

He glances over there, his eyes scanning the crowd for a moment before he grins too. “I guess she should have left her voice recorder and camera at home for this particular outing.”

“Like McDougall would ever allow it,” I mutter, approaching the church doorway.

There are a few people in front of us, but they’re greeted quickly, so before I know it, we’re at the front of the line and I’m looking into the weathered face of dear, old Father Luiz.

“Noelle.” He takes one of my hands between his. “How are you, my dear?”

“That depends,” I reply quietly. “Is my grandmother here?”

He chuckles low. “No, no. She’s not. I’ve already been warned of her antics by your brother.” He nods in Dev’s direction. “If I see her coming, I’ll send someone to warn you.”

“Thank you,” I sigh out.

Stacia is standing next to him in a black dress with a flared skirt. Her mascara is a little smudged at the corners of her eyes, and she gives me a sad smile.

“Father Luiz,” I say, touching Stacia’s arm. “Excuse me—could I borrow Stacia for a moment? I need to speak with her quickly.”

“Of course. Take your time, Stacia. Your brother is coming over. He can take over.” Father Luiz squeezes her shoulder and offers me a smile.

“Follow me.” Stacia takes my hand and leads me around the walls of the church, almost running, and into Father Luiz’s office. She releases my hand to shut the door behind me and leans back against it, covering her eyes. “Sorry,” she whispers, her voice barely there. “I just can’t talk to any more people about her right now.”

“Don’t worry. I’m in no rush.” Unless Nonna shows up, but I can’t say that out loud.

Stacia blows out a short, sharp breath and composes herself. “Thankfully, Father Luiz has given my family use of this for a moment to ourselves. My purse is tucked beneath his desk.” She pushes off the door and walks across the room to retrieve it.

“Talk me through what you’ve found. I might need to hand it over right away.”

She pales as she pulls an A5 notebook from her purse. Its cover is almost entirely neon pink, puffy paint, and it’s covered with stickers and gems. I recognize it immediately.

Strange how the brain remembers such peculiar things. It’s almost like the mind’s very own “just in case.”

“I was helping Dad look for something in the garage this morning and came across a box of stuff hidden right at the back. It wasn’t labeled, but it was obviously Daniela’s stuff.” She stares at the front cover of the book as she talks. “I don’t know where it came from. There were a couple of old textbooks in there, so probably her locker or something, but I’m guessing nobody looked in there, because if they had… Well.” She swallows and holds it out to me.

I wrap my fingers around the shiny, puffy cover and take the book from her.

“I only read the first five pages. If you can call it reading.” Her throat bobs with another swallow. “There are no names at the start, but at least, now, you know you’re looking for a guy.”

My fingers dig into the covers, and I’m pretty sure I leave a nail imprint. “Was there anything else in the box?”

She shakes her head.

“They’re probably going to want to check.” I pause, looking at the book for a moment before looking back. “Drake and I will keep hold of this tonight. We’ll turn it in tomorrow so you don’t have to leave the memorial, okay? I’ll say we were reading.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, hugging herself super tight. “I just... Sorry. If I never see that book again, it’ll be way too soon.”

“Understood.” I tuck it inside my purse and zip it up. “Stacia? Thank you. You have no idea how much this could change everything.”

She simply nods and sits in the chair behind the desk.

She needs a moment. I quietly leave the office, pulling the door shut behind me, and leave her to her emotions. My plan is to find Drake and head right on out, but almost immediately, I’m stopped by Mrs. Russo.

Her sad eyes are wide, and she snatches my hands into hers. “Stacia gave you it? The book?”

Oh. Okay. She knows too.

“Yes,” I say slowly. “Who else knows?”

“Nobody. She read it and told me. Please don’t tell anyone else.” Her bottom lip trembles. “Noelle, I don’t know who to trust anymore. Not even my own family.”

I can literally feel the pain rolling off her. If it were real waves, they’d be ten feet tall, smothering and suffocating.

“Please.”

There’s so much pleading in the word.

“I promise I won’t, but I can’t stop the police.” I keep my voice low. “I’m trying to get you answers, but they’re running the criminal investigation. This is vital evidence that’s going to mean a lot of interviews. They’re going to be the top of the list.”

“I know. I know. Blindside them. Please. Ask that fine man of yours. For me. Please.”

I have
got
to stop getting involved in these investigations.

“I can’t force him, but I’ll ask him,” I reassure her. In all likelihood, they’re going to do just that anyway, but if it’ll make her feel better...

“Thank you.” She presses a kiss to my cheek before letting herself into the office.

I have no idea what to make of what just happened, so I’m just going to pretend it didn’t, find Drake, and get out of this church.

Now, I’m not saying I’m a vampire, but I’m definitely feeling a little on the itchy side of comfortable around all these crosses.

I find him talking to Trent and Brody at the back of the church, away from everyone else. “Let’s go.” I grab his hand and tug hard.

“That was quick,” he remarks, not moving.

I look at my brothers, both of whom are looking at me with identical raised-eyebrow expressions. “What?”

“You saw Stacia?” Brody asks. “By the way, Nonna’s here.”

“Yes, and before you ask, it’s important and we’re going,” I say to Drake, tugging again. “The last thing you need is her looking at your ring finger, but the first thing you need is to read this diary. All three of you, really.”

Trent digs his key out of his pocket. “Let me give Alison these to get the kids. I’ll ride with Brody.”