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I nod and follow him out of the office and down the hallway. The minute we round the corner, stepping into the living area, we find Reese, Cat, and Abbie working there, not in the dining room. Blake tucks his chin and charges a path toward the front door. The room seems to follow his movement, and I step to the chair where Abbie’s sitting, with Reese and Cat to her left, side by side on the couch.
“How are things?” I ask, brushing red curls from her grass-green eyes. Such expressive, beautiful eyes.
“You tell me,” she says, catching my hand. “How are things?”
Better with you in my life, I think, but I say, “Blake is knee deep in research. He’s got me looking at some random data related to my father.” It’s not what I’d planned to say, but in this moment, it feels closer to the truth.
“What kind of data?”
“I’ll let you know when I know,” I say. “Stay here. Focus. We’re meeting Reid at Mac’s and we’ll see if either of us can make heads or tails of anything Blake knows. You need to get ready for the interview.”
“She does,” Reese agrees. “We’re just getting started. Ready, Abbie?”
She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t look at him. She looks at me and lowers her voice, a soft whisper, that while easily overheard is intimate in its delivery. “Is everything okay? Is this about that meeting earlier?”
“Yes,” I say. “But I know nothing. I’ll text you. Okay?”
“This is a good time for another promise.”
“I promise.” I squeeze her hand. “I hate leaving you, but I need to go and you need to focus.” I lift her hand and kiss it. “I won’t be long.” I push to my feet and I can feel my sister’s eyes on me. She’s stunned by my show of affection, with good reason. Abbie’s changed me. She keeps changing me.
Focused on getting back, I head for the door and I don’t look back. As promised, Blake is waiting on me downstairs and one of his drivers is waiting on us. Fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting in a round corner booth with my brother and Blake, each of us slowing nursing a whiskey.
“I have good and bad news,” Reid starts out. “I met with Jean Claude. He pointed out the obvious. That Abbie’s ex was trying to buy the property and then ended up dead. That makes Abbie a big target for the police.”
“So does a red wig and a set-up,” I bite out. “And that sounds like a threat.”
“It is,” Reid replies. “He went on to suggest that if Abbie sells him the shelter property now, at a reasonable price, she won’t look as guilty.”
“Of course, he did,” I say dryly. “And you said what?”
“I got him to up his offer ten percent. Any higher and it still might look like Abbie had the motivation to remove her ex from the picture to get a better offer from Jean Claude.”
“Unfortunately,” Blake says, “I have to agree. Any big payout makes them both look guilty. Like they colluded perhaps beyond the payout for the property. Will Abbie make the deal?”
“She’ll take it,” I say. “And I’ll make sure the animals find a home.”
“We’ll make sure the animals have a home,” Reid corrects. “She can make this the company’s first big charity operation.”
“Count Walker in as well, if you need us,” Blake offers.
“And just to be transparent,” Reid says, “Jean Claude offered Abbie a replacement property for the shelter. I declined. You don’t want to be in debt to Jean Claude but Abbie needs to know. He’ll bring it up to her if he gets the chance.”
“She wants out of this,” I say. “She’ll walk away.”
“What about the murder?” Blake asks. “What did he have to say about who killed Abbie’s ex?”
“He didn’t do it,” Reid says. “I believe him.”
“Why?” Blake demands. “Why trust a man like that?”
Reid’s jaw clenches and he cuts his stare before he looks at Blake, before he tells him what I already know. “I did legal work for that man for years. I saw how he operated. There are things he could use against me. He has no reason to lie to me. And he wouldn’t kill someone by way of a hitman. He’s too smart for that. He’d make it look like an accident. I know. Believe me. I know.”
“Were you a part of these accidents?” Blake asks, his eyes pure steel.
“No,” Reid replies. “I was with him through my father. I parted ways with him when I knew how deep the shit ran, but I’m too connected to him to cut ties completely. Bottom line,” he looks between me and Blake, “he needs Abbie alive and well to look good to the police and she needs him for the same reasons. Outside of that, and pertinent in all ways, he suggested the killer might be someone close to her ex, and with a personal agenda. Perhaps someone who knew Kenneth stole from him and thought he’d be pleased that Kenneth was dead.”
“And is he?” Blake asks.
