Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #5) (26 page)

“Okay!” she exclaims.

He presses something into her hand, and she clutches it tight before running back to Isabel.

“Mommy! He said there are suckers by the door and gave me a cor-ter to get one!”

Lucas smiles gratefully. “Did you say thank you?”

“Fank you!” She tugs on Isabel’s hand.

Isabel puts on a huge show of sighing, although she winks at us as she allows her daughter to follow her.

I watch Little Daniela as she goes, emotion welling inside me. “You named her after her.”

“Izzy wanted to. So we did.” Lucas nods. “Did you know Daniela?”

My smile is sad. “She was one of my best friends. She’d love that you did that.” I sniff and take a deep breath to compose myself. “I need to know who did this to her, Lucas. It’s personal.”

He rubs his hand down his face again. “She didn’t like her mom’s friend. I can’t remember his name—I’m not sure she ever said it. I can look tonight and let you know. I don’t know if it was because he was a bad person or she held a grudge because he was the reason for her parents’ divorce.”

“Why would he be?”

He frowns. “You...don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Drake asks, his voice suddenly turning to his cop-tone.

“Man...” Lucas looks between us both. “Her mom was having an affair. Had been for years.”

“W
ow. You think you know a woman, but she’s really half harlot.”

“Mom! You can’t say that!”

“Sure I can, darlin’.” She empties my dishwasher. “Daniel Russo is a perfectly respectful, hardworkin’ man, a wonderful husband and father, and she was havin’ a dang affair!”

Oh man. I’ve riled the beast.

“Why is she only half harlot, then?”

“Well, she ain’t no whore, is she? They get paid to give the milk away.”

I blink frantically.

“Kellie,” Dad says, coming in from my backyard. “You can’t talk about people like that. Dori’s having a hard time right now.”

“Yes,” Mom says, spinning, a spatula in her hand. “And she was sure as heck havin’ a damn hard time fifteen odd years ago!”

My eyes widen. “Mom!”

She chuckles and carries on emptying it. I’m not sure why she is. She tends to do it with all of us. Like she’s babying us by emptying our dishwashers.

Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I don’t like doing it.

“Your grass is all cut,
bambina
.” Dad kisses the side of my head.

I smile. “Thanks, Daddy. If I asked Drake right now I’d be waiting until next year.”

Mom snorts. “That’s men, darlin’. I’ve been waiting ten years for your father to put up the shelves in the bathroom.”

“Aw, Kellie. You put them up yourself three weeks later.”

She shoots him a look over his shoulder. “
Exactly.
”

Dad laughs and taps her butt as he walks past her, and she swats at him with a dishcloth.

I wrinkle my nose in disgust, but I’m smiling. They’ve been together for forty years and they’re still as in love as ever. It never ceases to amaze me.

I guess that’s kind of the Bond way though. When we fall in love, well, good fucking luck getting rid of us. We’re like limpets.

If Drake tried to leave me, I’d probably attach myself to his leg and never, ever let go.

“Why would Mrs. Russo have an affair?” I ask when Dad’s settled opposite me with a mug of coffee. “I always thought their relationship was solid as a kid. I mean, I know the original report stated they were divorcing, but I thought it was just one of those things. Not that she was doing...that.”

Dad stirs his coffee, the spoon clinking. “We were never told when we did the original investigation. It looks like we missed a lot, but that also a lot was hidden from us. We thought she’d just run off until it became clear she wasn’t coming back. If we’d have known, I would have pushed harder to find her.”

Mom turns and puts her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t feel guilty, honey. You did the best you could with what you had back then. Daniela didn’t want her letters found, and it’s not your fault the school cleared out her locker without turning it over to you. Now,
that’s
down to Dori and Daniel. They should have showed you.”

“Mom’s right.” I reach over the table and squeeze his hand. “Nobody blames you. All the evidence seems to have been hidden, and unless Daniel admits everything about the affair to Drake and knows the guy’s name, it doesn’t matter. Dori’s doctor refused to allow him to ask her questions while she’s in the hospital.”

Mom sniffs, her annoyance at her friend killing her compassion for Dad. “Refusing to let him ask questions indeed. She should be on her knees, begging for forgiveness, because she didn’t tell anybody something so important.”

“Mom, that’s harsh.”

“No.” She slams a mug down and turns to me. “No, Noelle, it isn’t. If you went missing, even if it happened tomorrow, I would tell the police everything I knew until my words bled from my ears if it meant finding you. There are no excuses for secrets when your child is in danger. Absolutely none.”

“She’s right,” Dad agrees. “I would do the same for any of you.”

I shrug and look down. I guess that kind of love is timeless. I wouldn’t know, would I?

Although...I’d do it for Aria and Silvio. In a heartbeat.

Maybe I do know.

Mom finishes emptying my dishwasher and loads my breakfast dishes into it, even as I shake my head. “What do you do now?”

“Wait for answers. Again. This case is a whole lot of waiting.”

“When’s the funeral?”

“Tim has to release her body this week. He can’t hold it any longer, so probably next week. I imagine they’ll wait for Dori to settle with her new medicine.” I tap the table. “It’s like looking for a teardrop in the ocean at every turn. With no physical evidence, we’re working on hearsay and things that were documented so long ago.”

“And memories,” Dad adds.

“And memories.” I lean forward and prop my chin on my hand. “It makes it hard. Nobody can really remember clearly.”

Mom raises an eyebrow.

“What’s that look for?” I demand.

“What look?”

“The eyebrow.”

“Darlin’, anyone who tells you they can’t remember what happened on that day fifteen years ago is a liar.”

“Kellie...”

“No. I remember it.” Mom wipes her hair from her face. “I heard it the next morning on the news. I was making you all pancakes, and the moment they said her name, time stopped. My first instinct was to run to you to make sure you were safe, check on all four of you one by one. Then it was to protect you from the news that one of your best friends was missing. Of course, you came downstairs before I knew it and saw almost the entire report. You proceeded to cry so hard you made yourself pass out and gave yourself a concussion from knocking your head on the table leg as you went down.”

I wince. I’d forgotten that. Not my finest moment. “I see your point. Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiles and runs the dishcloth over my table.

“I can clean up my own kitchen, you know.”

“Yes. I know,” she says, walking around the table. She lifts my mug and wipes under it. Then she wraps her arm around my shoulders. Her lips touch the side of my head, and she softly says, “And I hope I go before there’s a reason for me not to come over and do it.”

I circle my arm around her waist and hug her. “Don’t worry. You’re always welcome to clean.”

“Sassy.” She whips me with the cloth, which makes Dad laugh loudly.

“You walked right into that, Kel.”

“Shut up, Antonio.”

I’m not sure if I should be offended that the first words Drake said when he walked in was, “Your mom’s been by,” or shocked that the next were, “Oh, and we arrested Daniel Russo this afternoon.”

I decide to ignore the first comment and go straight to the second. “You did what?”

“Arrested Daniel Russo.” He doesn’t even turn away from the fridge as he pulls a beer out from the chiller drawer.

He doesn’t elaborate.

“Well?” I ask, handing him the bottle opener.

The pop-hiss of the cap coming off is oddly satisfying.

“We questioned him again, this time about his wife’s affair. He admitted to hiding the information from us yesterday and the police in the original investigation and admitted it could have helped find his daughter before. Not even Samuel Goldberg could refute it when we charged him.”

“Boy. They are not having a good week in that family.”

“I’ll say.”

“So, did he tell you who his wife’s lover was?”

The wind drops out of his sails. “Nope. He said he didn’t know his name. I have no idea if it’s true, but I’m inclined to believe him. He said he caught them one day when the lover was around the house. He didn’t stop to ask for his name before he threw the Bible at his naked backside and told his sinning ass to find Jesus because he’d lost him. Apparently, the guy said he lost him inside his wife and, long story short, managed to escape with his balls intact after clubbing Daniel back with his own Bible.”

Wow. Now, that’s
not
one for the grandkids.

Also: Only in Texas.

“Who said Holly Woods is boring?” I mutter, picking my wine glass up. “So, what happens now?”

He shrugs. “We still don’t have more info. Without a name and without being able to interview Dori, we’re back at square one in terms of where to go next. You got any ideas?”

“Nope. Just when I think we’re getting somewhere, it all goes tits up.” Perhaps the more accurate term here would be Bible buttocks. “I must have read everything a hundred times and got nothing else out of it. I’m going to read her journal because I don’t think I finished it—the one you got from her desk that was stuck.”

“Ah. Now?”

“Really? Right this second?”

“What have you done today that’s productive?”

I pause. “Well, I watched Mom clean the kitchen, and that was quite exhausting. I did more laundry, pulled seven of your socks from beneath the bed, and cleaned the toilet.”

“You cleaned the toilet? You?”

“Yes. And I’m never doing it again unless you start putting the seat up before you pee. It’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“Now, you know how I feel about emptying the bathroom trash can after your shark week.”

“Touché, Nash. Tou-freaking-ché.” I raise my glass in acknowledgement. “How about I do the bathroom trash can from now on and you clean the toilet seat?”

He narrows his eyes and chugs a mouthful of beer. “I feel like I’m getting the narrow end of this deal.”

“Shark week.”

“Done. One hundred percent. I’ll clean the toilet seat.”

“Good.” I put my glass down and open the cupboard. Then I pull a neon-pink pair of rubber gloves out and throw them at him.

“Whoa!” He steps to the side, and they fall to the floor with a splat. “Why are you throwing hand condoms at me?”

Hand condoms
. I burst out laughing. “Because I lied. I cleaned the inside of the toilet. Not the seat. You can go do it right now.”

“I’ve been working all day.”

“And I have to sit on what is apparently your own personal pee splatter board. Clean. The. Toilet.”

His eyes are still narrowed, but now, they’re dancing with laughter. He bends down and picks the gloves up. The rubber snaps as he pulls the bright-pink hand condoms over his hands.

“That’s kinda hot,” I say, dragging my eyes from his hands to his face. “I’m a little turned on.”

He snort-laughs and holds one pink, gloved hand out. “Cleaner, please.”

I pull it from the cabinet and hand it to him with a sponge. He disappears without another word, leaving his beer behind. My jaw trembles as I fight my laughter, but I manage to keep it in long enough to quietly grab Daniela’s diary and tiptoe up the stairs, avoiding the creaky one.

I creep into our room and peer through the bathroom door. He’s kneeling in front of the toilet, spraying the toilet seat, the gloves
still
on.

Now, that
is
hot.

He scrubs, rubbing one side particularly hard.

“Oh yeah, baby. Right there.”

He stills and swings his gaze to me. “What are you doing?”

“Providing a live commentary of your toilet-cleaning because I have nothing else better to do.”