Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #5) (28 page)

“It’s okay. The same thing happened when we gave her oatmeal for breakfast yesterday.” Her smile is tight. “It’s going to take her a while to recover.” She holds the ward door open for me.

“Thank you. For allowing me to see her. I’m glad I did.”

“You’re welcome.”

The door shuts behind me, the lock clicking shut, and I take a deep breath before heading downstairs.

Eddie Thomson.

It’s a start.

The first place I stopped after the hospital was the station. There, I passed on the name she gave me. Of course, I don’t know if it’s the man she had an affair with, but something is better than nothing.

The biggest shock was when Sheriff told me to accidentally let the name slip to my “World Wide Web Wonder Whiz” to see what he can find out.

When Sheriff Bates asks you to break the law, you know shit’s gotten serious.

Now, it’s two a.m. and I’m sitting in an empty bed in the darkness, my mind going a million miles an hour. We’re so close to solving this case, yet at the same time, we’re so far. Sure, we have an entire police department and the most computer-minded guy I know are working to find Eddie Thomson, but that doesn’t mean we will find him. That’s all we have—it’s all the information we’re going to get too.

It just makes it so hard. A name. There could be hundreds, if not thousands, of Eddie Thomsons in the United States. Not to mention he could actually be Edward, Edwardo, Eduardo spelled the other way, and all the variations of Thomson. Maybe I heard her wrong and it’s Thom
p
son.

There are so many variables, so many avenues to pursue, that, even with this information, nothing is guaranteed, and we’re still up shit creek without a paddle.

The worst part is that, if this route of inquiry doesn’t pay off, we’re gonna be capsizing smack-dab in the middle of shit creek.

The faint whir of the water dispenser in the fridge door travels through the air. I knew that Drake was awake too, but I thought he was working. That’s usually what happens, and he sure as hell wasn’t here when I came to bed three hours ago and attempted some sleep.

I swing my legs out of bed and grab my robe from the back of the door. I pull the blue, fluffy robe around me and tie it at the waist before padding downstairs. “Drake?”

“In here,” he says from the kitchen. He turns when I walk in. “Did I wake you?”

I shake my head. “I haven’t been able to sleep well. Why are you still awake?”

He twirls the glass of water in his hands. “Just thinking. The middle of the night is when you usually figure things out. I wondered if it’d work for me too.”

“Is it?” I sit opposite him at the table.

He smacks his lips together. “Nope. My mind is too busy.”

I rest my cheek on my hand and trace the lines of his handsome face with my eyes in the dim light. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Thinking about my dad.”

Well. I wasn’t expecting that.

“Cases like this put it into perspective. I’m thirty-two and I haven’t seen him in over twenty years, but I think I did earlier. I went to Rosie’s to get coffee for everyone—”

“You know that’s why you have rookies, right?”

He cracks a half smile. “Yeah. But I needed air. It was getting too stressed in there, so I decided I was going. I think I saw him come out before I got out of the car, but he doesn’t look like I remember. It was...strange. He looked sick, Noelle.”

“Maybe it wasn’t him,” I offer. I doubt that it’s reassuring, but it’s all I have.

How else do you respond to that? By saying sorry? He knows I am, but it’s not my job to be sorry. It’s my job to just be here.

“You’re right, but I think it was.” He looks down as he spins his water glass some more. “I keep thinking that I wanna know why he left us. I don’t want bullshit excuses to placate me anymore. I want the fucking truth about why he decided to leave without a trace and then, now, twenty years later, come back.”

I feel his torment like it’s my own. It’s swirling around him in the air, sure, but it’s the way his eyes are so shadowed, his knuckles white as he stops spinning the glass and simply grips it. It’s in how his shoulders are so taut, like he’s poised ready to attack an invisible enemy.

“I hate him.” He glances up with a lame smile. “I fucking hate him so much, but if he’s really ill and he’s going to die...” He trails off and looks away, out the window, although nothing is visible in the two-a.m. darkness.

“You might hate yourself more.” I said it so softly that I wonder if I’m dreaming it. “Because you never told him how much he hurt you or found out why when you had the chance.”

He nods, clenching his jaw. “And it’s all selfish. How fucked up is that?”

“Not at all.”

Drake looks at me.

“What he did was selfish, no matter the reason. I can’t see any possible scenario where he couldn’t even write to you and tell you why he had to leave. Phones weren’t exactly a new invention twenty years ago. He could have called or written to you. It’s not selfish to want to see him to alleviate your own emotions. Even if you only ever see him once more in your life to get the truth and tell him how he made you feel, that’s okay. And he deserves it. He deserves to know how badly he hurt you.”

“I know. But, at the same time, I’m not sure I want to see him. So damn torn on it all. I don’t need to see him. I don’t need him to be my father. Your family is batshit crazy and should have its own reality show, but your dad is the greatest man I know. I’ll take him over mine any day.”

A strange ball of emotion lodges itself in my throat. He’s not wrong. He is the greatest man—in the entire world, in fact. And he can have him. If I have to share my father with someone outside of my brothers, it may as well be the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Holy shit. Did I just think that?

I did. I did.

Holy crap.

I swallow the thought back down. Another time for that.
Damn it, Nonna. You’re in my head.

“Can you imagine my family having a reality show?” I raise my eyebrows and sit up straight. “That would be literally terrifying—and that’s before you add anyone other than Nonna and Gio. Those two could host their own vlog on YouTube and it’d be a hit.”

“One week, I’m gonna film family dinner and put it online. See the offers come rolling in then.”

“Don’t. That’s the scariest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He laughs lightly, but it’s sad.

I don’t like it.

I get up and walk around the table to him. He pushes his chair out and pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist. Mine go around his neck, and I rest my head against his shoulder.

“I hate it when you’re sad.”

“I’m not sad,
bella.
I’m stressed.”

“Same difference to me. You look sad both times.”

He rests his head against mine, smiling. “I love you, you know that?”

“I’d love me too. In fact, I do. Quite a lot.”

He tickles my side, making me squirm. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“I know.” I kiss his jaw. “I love you too. Especially since you cleaned the toilet.”

His laugh is soft as he squeezes me tight. He takes a deep breath and lets it go slowly, keeping his arms solidly wrapped around me. I close my eyes as the warmth of his bare body somehow seeps through my robe.

“If I speak to him, will you come with me?” The question was asked quietly, far more gently than I’ve ever heard him speak.

“Of course.” My lips find his jaw again. “Whatever you need. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.” He lifts my hand and kisses it. Then he smoothly stands, scooping me up with him a la a Disney prince and princess hold.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed to spoon you.” He carries me toward the stairs.

“I hate spooning. You know that. I get so hot.” I pout, looking at his handsome face as he carries me up.

“Yeah, well, I get a hard-on I’m not likely to get relieved the next morning. It’s a trade off, woman.”

“But you don’t have a hard-on all night. I’m hot all night.”

“Jesus.” He roughly drops me on the bed. “Stop whining, get into bed, and love me.”

I laugh, pulling my robe off and throwing it to the floor. I get into bed next to him, and he pulls me back against him. One arm slides beneath my neck while the other settles over my stomach, and he slips one of his legs between mine.

“You’re so needy,” I mutter, touching the arm lying over my side.

“For you? Always.” He kisses the back of my neck. “Now, sleep.”

I’
ve searched everything local for an Eddie Thomson and all variations of the name, but I’ve come up with nothing. I even have a plain, old Google search up on my laptop screen right now, like it’d help.

Getting his name was important, but I’m realizing right now more than ever that it’s not all that unless we have something else to go by.

This case is a maze, and there are more dead ends than anything.

We know the name of our abuser and probable killer. We just don’t know who he is, where he is, what he looks like, or if he’s even alive. For all I know, the man was mowed down in a hit-and-run or something.

“You’re gonna have to go and see Stacia or one of her brothers.” Bek runs a nail file over her thumbnail. “Just ask them.”

“Stacia told me everything else. If she knew that her mom had an affair or what his name was, wouldn’t she have mentioned it?”

“Noelle, my mom knew that her mom had an affair. Virtually the whole town knew. Of course Stacia and her brothers knew.” She raises her eyebrows. “Just bite the bullet and do it. It’s not the end of the world. It’s just one question. You have her number. Call her.”

Easier said than done. I don’t want to open old wounds for her or her brothers, especially with their mom in the mental health ward and their dad being held in custody. They’re literally falling apart right now. I don’t want to add more pressure.

“Let’s see what Carlton and the police can come up with. I don’t want to ask if it’s not necessary.”

“Chickenshit,” she mutters, finishing filing and putting it back into her purse. “Here. My checks from the week.” She hands me a white envelope. “I’m too lazy to bring them one by one.”

“I know.” I take them. “Thanks. How’s Jason?”

She eyes me. “Fine. Why?”

“God, can’t I ask? I haven’t seen him for a few days. That’s all. I thought I might have with the case.”

“Oh. He’s okay. He’s mostly in Austin trying to convince his bosses to let the HWPD handle this. I think he’s losing. He’s going to have to take over the investigation soon if Drake can’t get it done.”

“That’s gonna go down as well as a hooker with her vagina stitched.” I sigh. “Hey! Why don’t we ask Jason to run the name? See if he can find Eddie?”

Bek stops. “Why didn’t we think of it before?”

“Because we’re fucking idiots.” I pick my phone up and dial his number. Thank god for speed dial. I learned a while ago that I needed him on it.

“Hello?” he answers roughly.

I put him on speaker. “Jasonnnn! My favorite FBI agent.”

“Oh sweet Jesus. That sounds like you want something.”

“I want you.”

“Flattering. What do you need?”

“Are you in Holly Woods?”

“I’m on my way to the police station to talk to Sheriff Bates. Why?”

Shit, fuck, shit.

Bek widens her eyes. She frantically shakes her head. “You need to come here. To us.”

“Well, hi. Is that an offer?”

“Hey. I’m gonna hit you if you keep this shit up,” I threaten. “Don’t go down there yet. Come here. Please?”

He sighs, making the line crackle. “I’m on my way.”

The line goes dead, and Bek collapses forward, her own sigh escaping. Except hers is more of a sigh of relief than of exasperation like Jason’s was.

“He cannot go to the police station,” she says firmly. “Ever. Not while Brody is working.”

Hello, hello, hello... No, Noelle. Don’t bite. Don’t bite.
“Why not?”

I bit. Idiot.

“Crap, I didn’t tell you.” Her cheeks flame, and she presses her hands against them. “You know we went for dinner on Saturday?”

I nod.
Oh boy, do I.