Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #5) (29 page)

“Brody was at the restaurant already with another woman.”

I wonder if she realizes her eyes just flashed with a spark of jealousy.

“It got tense. He ended up paying for her bill and storming out. I don’t know where he went after that, but I doubt she’s gonna see him again.”

I know for a fact she won’t see him again. “Wow. Awkward.”

Bek’s brow furrows. “That’s a strange response.”

“No, it’s not. It is awkward.”

“Well, yeah. I just thought you might have known what happened. That’s all.”

I don’t answer, instead deciding to shuffle some papers beside my laptop.

“Noelle.”

This is me not getting involved. This is me not getting involved. This is me
not. Getting. Involved
.

“You know where Brody went on Saturday night, don’t you?”

“Does it matter?” Jason’s dry tone sounds from the doorway.

Oh. Um. Shit.

I should have gotten involved.

“Of course it does. He’s my friend. I care about him,” Bek answers. “I haven’t seen him or heard anything about him since.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “Would you have normally?”

“I would have seen him, at least.”

“He stormed out because we were together. You know that. I don’t know why you care so much.” Jason’s eyes spark with annoyance. And possessiveness.

I don’t know if that’s irritating or a little hot.

“Because I’ve known him my whole life, and if he has a problem with me dating someone, I want to know why.”

That was probably the wrong answer, Bek.

“He has a problem with you dating me. If you wanna know so badly, just fucking call him and ask him.”

Nope. That won’t do it.

“Maybe I will. Why are you worried if I care about him anyway? You don’t. You don’t even like each other. No wonder he ignores me and goes out of his way to avoid me.”

Hoooey. Can I leave?

“Because you’re unnaturally concerned about his feelings without doing anything about it. If he’s going out of his way to avoid you, he probably doesn’t give a shit.”

No. No, that is definitely
not
it.

“You know what? Screw this. I have work to do. She’s the one who needs you anyway.” Bek grabs her purse and storms out of my office, slamming the door behind her.

Look at me, not getting involved. Yay, me.

I click my tongue after a moment of silence. “Well, that was fucking awkward.”

“Sorry. Your brother is a sore spot.” Jason runs his hand through his hair and sits in the chair Bek just vacated. “No offense. It’s just awkward because... Never mind.”

I think I can guess. “Sorry. I have no idea what’s going on, so I can’t help.”

Jason’s lips tug into a half smirk. “Look at you, following Drake’s advice.”

“It’s been known to happen. This time, I’m definitely doing as I’ve been told and staying out of it.” I smile back. “I need some help searching for someone. Carlton is definitely not trying to find them”—I pause when he rolls his eyes—“but I think you can do it quicker.”

“Sounds like a good thing I brought my laptop in with me.” He snorts and pulls it out of a black leather bag. He sets it on the desk in front of me and opens it, shifting his chair around to get a better view of the screen. “Talk to me.”

“I need you to find an Eddie Thomson who lived in the Holly Woods area at least fifteen years ago.”

“Why so urgent?”

“Because he’s the man our victim’s mother had an affair with and the victim’s diary seems to pinpoint as her abuser.”

“Well, shit. Looks like nobody bothered to update me.”

“Nah. Probably not.” I grin. “You should have called and asked.”

He shakes his head. “Let me pull up our database. How are you spelling it?”

“Every possible way and combination of Thomson, Thompson, and Eddie, Edward, Edwardo, and Eduardo the Spanish way.”

“Wow. That narrows it right down.”

“Doesn’t it? Now, you see why I need you.”

“Yes. Let me see what I can do.” He starts tapping away at his keyboard.

I can’t do anything but wait as he searches. He might not even get anything, but I know it’s worth a try.

“Why were you going to the station? Were you going to take over the investigation?”

“How did you—oh right. Bek.” He rubs his thumb over his lower lip, still focused on the screen. “Yeah. We haven’t had updates, and my superiors are getting antsy. They’re aware of the media attention, and they don’t like it on such a high-profile case. What they think I can do by going in there and demanding answers, I don’t know. At least, now, if they have a lead with this Eddie dude, then I can put them off a little longer. I’m just gonna need a report from Drake.”

“He’ll get you one. I think we’re close.” I’m bluffing, but ah well.

Technically, we are. Or we will be the moment we find out who Eddie Thomson is.

“There are a couple Edward Thomsons on our database... Do you know how old he’d be, roughly?”

“Nobody seems to know. Daniela’s journal said he was older than she was but young... I don’t know. Maybe mid-thirties? I’m guessing.”

“I have one... Edward Thomson, born in Tyler, Texas, went to college in Austin in the late nineties, early two-thousands.”

“That sounds like he could be our guy.”

“He’s been arrested on a few charges. Mostly minors, but there was one serious drunk-driving incident where he was suspended from the road for two years. He still is.”

“Any idea where he lives now?”

“Enid, Oklahoma. Married to... Well, fuck me.”

“Fuck me? What does that mean?” I stand up and try to peer at his screen.

Wordlessly, he picks his laptop up and turns it so I can see what he’s just read.

Relationship status: Married.

Spouse: Stacia Jayne Thomson, nee Russo.

Fuck. Me.

“Y
ou’re sure?” Drake asks me over the phone. “Sure as sure can be?”

“I saw it with my own goddamn eyes, Drake. I’m fucking sure!”

“Okay. We’re gonna go down there right now and bring her in for questioning. Is Jason coming?”

“Hang on.” I move the speaker from my mouth. “He wants to know if you’re going down there.”

Jason nods from the other side of my office, his own phone pressed to his ear. He’s issuing orders for a warrant for Eddie Thomson’s arrest. According to him, Daniela’s written journal entries—all in the possession of the HWPD—and her mom’s confirmation of her lover’s identity are enough to arrest him.

“Yes. He’s on the phone ordering them to go pick up Eddie Thomson and then he’ll be with you.”

“You coming to watch through the window?” Drake asks. “You might as well. You’ve made all the breaks in this case.”

Well. I try. “Sure. I’ll come down.”

“Good. This situation is seriously fucked up.”

Yeah. No kidding. It’s not every day your husband was once your mom’s lover and almost certainly raped your sister and killed her.

Wow.

I have a headache.

I feel like there are no shows on TV that could even come close to this.

I wonder how much of this Stacia knows—if any. The coincidences though...

“Let’s go.” Jason shoves his phone into his pocket and closes his laptop.

“What’s happening?” I throw my phone into my purse and slip my feet back into my shoes.

“We’re issuing a warrant for his arrest and the local boys are going to pick him up. They’ll bring him here for Drake to interview with me since you have all the evidence.” He picks his laptop bag up. “For now, though, I want to know what
Mrs. Thomson
has to say about this entire situation.”

“Yeah. You and me both. Two seconds.” I rap my knuckles against Carlton’s door and shove it open. “Don’t worry about Eddie. Found him. Gotta go.” I follow Jason downstairs. “Grecia, I’m out the rest of the day. Hold all calls.”

“Got it.”

Jason leads me outside to his truck, opening the door so I can get in. He even takes my purse while I climb in, which is a good thing because this truck is freaking high. He deposits it in my lap before closing the door and getting in on the other side.

The engine roars to life the moment he turns the key in the ignition, and he tears out of the parking lot and turns in the direction of the station.

“How did you get the name? I didn’t ask you,” Jason says, just beating a red light.

“I went to the hospital and asked Dori.”

“I thought the doctors refused questioning. I couldn’t even get in.”

I turn my face and blink at him. “I didn’t go to question her.”

“And, now, I understand why you won’t officially step back into law enforcement,” he says on a chuckle. “Here I was thinking I could convince you after all your breakthroughs in this case, but now, I see I can’t.”

“Damn straight. I’m not taking orders from anybody.”

“Except the orders that come from Drake about keeping your nose out of other people’s business.”

“Precisely. Then I listen.” Sometimes.

We make the rest of the drive in silence, a slightly awkward air falling between us. Thankfully, there’s too much happening right now to focus on it. The moment we pull into the police station parking lot, questions are shouted from the media. I guess they recognize us both, but Jason wraps one arm around my shoulders, his large body hiding me from their cameras, and sweeps me inside.

When we step through the door, the station is a hive of activity. Phones are ringing off the hook, orders are being yelled across the floor, and Charlotte has a phone to one ear and a finger in the other.

“I’m sorry. Please hold.” She hits a button and looks at me and Jason. “Sheriff is waiting for you in his office.” She jerks her head backward to where his office is hidden away from the major craziness.

We make our way through the station to his office, and Jason knocks on his door.

“Come in, come in.” Sheriff Bates’s voice travels through the door, and Jason pushes it open.

“Charlotte said you were waiting for us, sir.” Jason steps to the side to allow me in.

I smile sweetly. “Hi.”

“Ms. Bond. I believe we have you to thank for most of this.” Sheriff Bates can’t wipe the smile off his face.

“Yet again, it happens when I don’t have to follow rules.”

“Or the law,” he adds with a wink.

“Hey! I didn’t break it. I just...bent it a little.”

Jason coughs to cover a laugh. “Only you are brave enough to say that in a police station.”

I shove his arm. “My law-bending just solved this case. Hush your mouth and worship me.”

He laughs. “Not gonna happen.” He turns to Sheriff Bates. “Detective Nash is on his way to bring in Mrs. Thomson, I suppose?”

“Indeed he is,” Sheriff Bates says, putting his glasses on. “That was quite the shock when you called. I’m not sure how we’re going to explain this one simply.”

“Do you think it’ll matter if Stacia doesn’t know anything?” I ask, gripping my purse handles. “Are we assuming she does?”

“We’re assuming nothing at this stage,” he answers, flattening his hands on the desk and looking out at us. “I have to admit I’ll be surprised if she knows nothing, but also if she knows everything. I can’t imagine she would marry a man who had an affair with her mother.” He pauses, his brow crinkling as he frowns. “That in itself is very disturbing, before you even factor in anything else.”

No kidding.

The man slept with mom and daughter.

Freaky.

More than freaky, actually. Sheriff Bates nailed it with “disturbing.”

“I think we need to tread very carefully with Stacia. She’s going to be tough to crack.”

“We’ll be waiting for a lawyer?” Jason asks.

Sheriff Bates nods. “Samuel Goldberg, probably.”

I sigh heavily. “Do you want my gun now or later?”

Jason gives me a confused look.

“I hate him.” I smile.

“The feeling is very much mutual,” Sheriff Bates says. “I’ve already called him. He’s on his way. We shouldn’t have to wait more than thirty minutes.”

“Wow. You mean he’s actually coming right away?”

“Yes.” His eyes twinkle. “It’s amazing what mentioning the FBI will do to a person.”

He just became my new favorite person.