Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter
Fifty-Seven
I huddled in my cozy sweater as I sat on a bench in the courtyard, watching with a glowing heart as Livy danced around the rim of the old fountain.
She had no idea what had transpired on the Mirage’s roof three days earlier while she was at a friend’s house.
She thought my scrapes and bruises resulted from a simple tumble, and I’d explained Bodie’s absence from the building by saying that he’d moved out.
Which wasn’t entirely untrue. He was currently housed in a jail cell and would—hopefully—remain behind bars for a long, long time.
Jemma sat on my left with her arm tucked through mine.
“I talked to Detective Callahan this morning,” I told her.
“Did he have anything to share?” Jemma asked.
“He confirmed that Minnie’s guess was right. Yolanda thought Minnie killed Freddie out of a double dose of anger—because of how he’d humiliated her and how he’d desecrated the speakeasy—so Yolanda confessed to protect her.”
“Misguided, but a little bit sweet,” Jemma said, sharing my sentiment on the matter.
“Bodie’s been formally charged with the assault on Hoffman,” I added, “as well as with murder and attempted murder.”
Sparks of anger danced in Jemma’s brown eyes. “I hope he rots in jail.”
Weariness weighed down my next words. “Me too.”
“Why did Bodie attack Hoffman? Did Thor say anything about that?”
“Bodie didn’t realize that the police knew about the speakeasy and had cleared out the liquor. Neither did Hoffman, but he found two bottles in Freddie’s office. Bottles that the cops didn’t take when they searched the office right after the murder.”
“Because they didn’t know they had any significance at the time,” Jemma surmised.
I nodded. “When Bodie caught Hoffman slipping the bottles into his bag, he knocked Hoff out and dumped his body in the alley, taking the bottles for himself, probably mere moments before Theo and I showed up in the lobby.”
“Hoffman should be in jail too,” Jemma grumbled.
I didn’t disagree.
“I don’t think we were far off with our theory about Hoff,” I continued.
“He didn’t kill anyone, but I’m pretty sure Freddie caught him taking a bottle of whiskey from the speakeasy.
They must have fought, and the bottle broke.
Hoffman grabbed the label before he took off, probably so he could find out the value of the whiskey so he’d know if it would be worth coming back for more. ”
“That must have happened right before the murder,” Jemma said.
“That’s what I figure,” I agreed, “since Freddie never had a chance to clean up the spilled booze.” I paused for a moment before sharing what else I’d learned from Detective Callahan. “Bodie’s the one who told the cops about Freddie threatening to evict me. He overheard our conversation.”
Jemma made a face. “Ugh! He heard what the sleazeball was saying to you and just stood there listening?”
“Not such a surprise, now that I know what type of person Bodie really is.”
“I never would have guessed that Bodie was an even bigger creep than Freddie.”
“You and me both.” I held back a shudder.
“What about the gold leaf the cops found in the Nagys’ apartment?” Jemma asked.
“I talked to Mrs. Nagy about that,” I replied. “She figures it came from some petits fours that Agnes brought over for tea the day before the murder. They were decorated with gold leaf. Mrs. Nagy couldn’t think of how else it would have ended up in her kitchen.”
The door to the building opened, and Wyatt stepped out into the courtyard.
“Look who’s here.” Jemma smiled, a little slyly, I thought.
Wyatt’s eyes found mine, and a pleasant zing shot through me. A chaotic tangle of emotions rode in on its wake. I didn’t know what to think or feel about Wyatt, but I decided that was a problem for another time. Or maybe not. There was a good chance I’d never see him again after today.
Despite the little whimper of disappointment from my heart at the thought, it was likely for the best. Bodie had left me bruised on the outside, but he’d also deepened the scars I already had on the inside. I thought he was a good guy, that we had a real connection. And I was oh so wrong.
I could be wrong about Wyatt too.
Nevertheless, I could set aside my wariness for an hour or so.
“I should go,” Jemma whispered.
I clutched her arm, holding her in place. “No, don’t.”
She gave in, probably only because she was still getting over the scare she’d had when she’d raced back to Rosario’s apartment in time to see my shoe fall past the window.
I’d texted her in the elevator on my way down to the speakeasy, sharing my suspicions about Bodie.
When she realized that he was gone from the party too, she gathered up a posse of my senior neighbors and Wyatt—who’d just shown up—and rushed up to the roof.
Luckily, she’d correctly guessed that my shoe must have fallen from there.
I could tell I surprised Jemma when I stood up from the bench. “I’ll just be a moment.”
I met Wyatt on a sunny patch of grass, far enough away from Jemma and Livy that we had a semblance of privacy.
“How are you doing?” he asked, his eyes tracing a path from the bruises on my face to the ones on my neck.
I could feel his gaze like a physical touch, gentle, intoxicating. I had to take a steadying breath before I could speak.
“I’m okay,” I said, my voice quieter than I’d intended. “And I’m glad you’re here.”
A corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s a nice change.”
“I know I haven’t always been welcoming,” I admitted. “But I want you to know that I truly appreciate the way you helped up on the roof.”
His grin disappeared, and his eyes darkened. His fingertips skimmed my cheek, near an angry red scrape and purple bruise. Beneath his touch, my blood warmed. A hum traveled through my bones, electric yet comforting at the same time. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
He brushed a strand of hair off my face and tucked it behind my ear with such tenderness that I had to blink back tears. When he dropped his hand, the absence of his touch set off a hollow, echoing ache inside me.
Wyatt’s coal-black eyes burned with regret and something hotter, more volatile. “I wish I’d made it to the roof faster.”
I threw caution to the wind and took his hand in mine. Our fingers twined perfectly together.
“I’m told you moved as fast as humanly possible,” I said. “In fact, I think some residents of the building suspect you’re actually superhuman.”
A faint smile touched his lips, weighed down by remorse. “Definitely only human. But I was a scared-as-hell human when I realized you were in trouble.”
Tears burned in my eyes as I smiled at him. “Sit with us?”
As my hand slid out of his, he caught two of my fingers and gave them the gentlest of squeezes before releasing them.
I had to tear my gaze from his and remind myself to breathe.
I led the way back to the bench and sat next to Jemma.
She gave me a knowing look, but I just patted the empty spot on my other side, an invitation for Wyatt.
He accepted, sitting close enough that his arm brushed against mine.
I tried not to breathe too deeply, but I still caught a heady whiff of his outdoorsy scent.
“I owe you both my life,” I said, glancing first at Jemma, then at Wyatt. “You and the Senior Squad.”
“Ooh, that’s a good name,” Jemma said with delight. “We should get them badges.”
“Or not,” I countered. “That was definitely a one-time thing.” I knocked on the wooden seat of the bench, in case the universe was getting any cruel ideas.
The door opened for the second time in two minutes, and Theo sailed out into the courtyard. Livy jumped down from the edge of the fountain and ran to greet her. They spoke for a moment, and then Livy bounced off to practice cartwheels on the grass while Theo came over to join us by the bench.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” I said, pinning her with my most disapproving glare. “I checked my bank account this morning and—funny thing—Hoffman transferred back the exact amount he stole from me.”
“Our plan worked?” Jemma exclaimed with triumph. “I can’t believe it!”
“I’m not sure I do believe it.” I kept my narrowed eyes fixed on Theo. “Please tell me you didn’t hack into his account after I asked you not to.”
“I promise I didn’t hack his bank account,” Theo said, unfazed by my glare. “And I didn’t transfer the money. He did that himself.”
“Why would he do that?” Wyatt asked before I had the chance. “I mean, it’s great that he did, but he didn’t strike me as the type to have an attack of conscience.”
Theo tried for a casual shrug. “Maybe you misjudged him?”
“Theodosia Harris,” I said in my best mom voice. “What did you do?”
She glanced aside, then huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I hacked into his phone and had a look around.”
I put my hands to my face. “We agreed—”
“That I wouldn’t hack into his bank account.
And I didn’t. But I did find out that he’d been chatting with several women on dating apps.
I sent him an anonymous message, letting him know that screenshots of those chats would be sent to Tiffany if he didn’t return your money within forty-eight hours. ”
“Nice one,” Jemma said, impressed.
I groaned. “Theo, blackmail is also against the law.”
“He’s not going to turn us in for that,” she said without any doubt. “It’s way more important to him to keep Tiffany financing his life.”
She was probably right about that.
“So, the money is really mine again?” I hadn’t yet allowed myself to believe that.
Jemma put an arm around my shoulders. “It was always yours.”
“And I think you’ve seen the last of Hoffman,” Theo added.
“And if not,” Wyatt said, “we’ve all got your back.”
I smiled as relief, gratitude, and affection all bloomed in my chest, bringing tears to my eyes.
“Anyway,” Theo said, taking charge of the conversation, “change your passwords, if you haven’t already. Just in case. And I hope you’re ready for your next job.”
I blinked away my tears. “You mean at the clothing store?” I asked with confusion.
My interview had taken place the day before, and I’d just found out an hour ago that I’d landed the job. It was only part-time at minimum wage and would barely cover my rent, but it was a step in the right direction, and hopefully a sign that my fortunes were changing for the better.
“For Wyatt Investigations,” Theo explained.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve already mentioned that the agency doesn’t actually exist,” I said.
“Then why do you have a paying client?” Theo asked.
“Paying…” I echoed faintly.
“Client?” Jemma finished for me.
“Since when?” Wyatt asked, sounding a little too interested, if you asked me.
“Since a woman contacted us through our website last night. She’s hired the two of you to find out if her soon-to-be ex-husband is lying about the fact that he’s too injured to work and needs alimony.”
“Okay, but we aren’t actually detectives,” I pointed out, because—clearly—she needed the reminder.
“You just solved a murder case,” she countered.
“Well, sort of…”
“She’s already agreed to our rates,” Theo said, unmoved by my protestations.
“We have rates?” I glanced at Wyatt.
He shrugged.
Theo handed me her phone. It displayed a string of messages, including one where Theo told the woman the cost of hiring Wyatt Investigations.
My eyes widened when I saw the figure. “She seriously agreed to that?”
“We’ll take the case, right?” Wyatt said to me.
“You’re not actually part of the agency, you know.”
“Then why is my name on the business card?” Before I could answer that question—again—he continued, “And why does the HR department have a file on me?”
“He’s got a point,” Jemma said.
Theo nodded her agreement.
My exasperation intensified. “No, he doesn’t! And there is no HR department!”
Everyone looked at me and waited.
I held out for a good three seconds before caving.
“Ugh! Okay, fine. Just this one case.”
After all, it sounded straightforward enough, and I wasn’t exactly in a position to say no to the money. The savings Hoffman had returned gave me a cushion, but I still needed to earn a living.
“Can you set up a meeting with the client?” Wyatt asked Theo.
She smiled, clearly pleased with herself. “Already done. Tomorrow afternoon at one o’clock.”
I didn’t know what lay ahead with Livy’s guardianship, and I really didn’t know how I was supposed to ignore the crazy, off-the-charts chemistry between me and Wyatt if we were going to be working together again.
I also didn’t know how I was going to get my life fully back on track.
All I knew for sure was that I was definitely not a detective.
My gaze slid back to the dollar amount displayed on Theo’s phone.
Maybe.