One Hit Wonderful (29 page)
* * * * *
“Can’t you drive any faster?” Nate asked.
Jonah rolled his eyes but pushed his foot down a little harder on the gas pedal. “Why don’t you try calling her again,” he suggested, and took a left turn on two wheels.
Nate shook his head. “She’s in the storage unit, it’s going right to her voicemail. What’d the cops say?”
“They don’t know where Carelli is,” Jonah said, and made another left. “If he’s got any brains at all, he’s already headed out of town, Nate. I don’t think he’s going to bother going after Lily.”
Nate shook his head again. “It’s not Lily, it’s whatever’s in Bridget’s storage unit,” he said. “And I don’t think this guy has a lot of brains—it takes some kind of stupid to cheat on your bride at your own wedding.”
“Good point,” Jonah agreed.
“Can’t you go any faster?” Nate asked, and Jonah put his foot to the floor.
* * * * *
Lily stared at the revolver in Max’s hand. “Max, what the hell are you doing?”
“What I have to,” he shot back, and held out his other hand. “Give me those books.”
“Fine.” She held out the ledgers, stretching out her arm as far as she could without stepping forward. No way did she want to get any closer to that gun.
He reached out and snatched them out of her hand and quickly counted them. She was just starting to breathe easy again when he swung back around. “Where are the others?”
“What others?” she asked, and found herself staring down the barrel of the pistol.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” he warned. “There are two more books, and I’m not leaving without them.”
She held her hands up, palms out. “I don’t know where they are,” she insisted. “I found those just this minute, but they were the only ones in there.” She pointed to the box at his feet.
He looked around the room and huffed out a breath. “Christ, she was so fucking disorganized.”
Even though it was a sentiment she’d expressed a thousand times herself, Lily had to bite back a retort. Instead, she said, “They could be anywhere.”
He turned back to her and waved the gun in a circle. “Start looking,” he said, and she blinked at him.
“You want me to help you look for them?” she asked, incredulous, and he shook his head.
“You’re doing
all
the looking,” he told her, and moved around behind her while she spun in a slow circle, not trusting him one bit. “I’m going to have a seat,” he continued, patting the seat of a desk chair. A desk chair, she noted, that was right next to Beau’s stuffed tiger.
Max suited action to words and settled himself in the chair, holding the gun so it was pointed in her general direction. “Start looking,” he ordered, and swiveling the seat around, propped his feet up on the nearest random object.
Unfortunately for him, for Beau, and for the ceiling of the storage unit, that random object happened to be Beau’s stuffed white tiger—and the minute Max’s feet hit plush, Beau woke up.
For a big dog, Lily mused, he sure moved fast. He shot up so fast he caused the tiger to fly up, straight into Max’s face. Max’s hands flew up, his arms crossing to block the stuffed animal, and as they did, the gun went off.
Sheetrock rained down from the hole in the ceiling, the sound of the shot echoing off the metal walls of the unit and making her ears ring. Beau didn’t like it either, and set up a howl to wake the dead. It must have startled Max all over again because he lost his balance and fell off the back of the chair.
Lily blinked at him then blinked again, bemused, when the door to the unit burst open and Nate and Jonah came pouring in.
“What happened?” Nate asked, rushing to her side.
“I honestly have no idea,” she told him, and felt him chuckle as he gathered her in his arms.
“Well, that makes it perfect then,” he decided.
* * * * *
Half an hour later they sat on the curb outside the storage facility’s management office and watched the police load Max into a squad car. Beau sat between them, quivering with nerves and occasionally trying to hide under the stuffed tiger they’d brought out with them.
Lily watched Jonah confer briefly with Detective Graham then stroll over to them. “Well, the ledgers tie everything up pretty neatly,” he told them, crouching down to scratch Beau behind the ear. Beau whimpered and tried to crawl farther under the tiger.
“So what happens now?” Lily asked.
“Jail,” Jonah said. “Probably until the trial comes up, seeing as how he’s definitely a danger to the community as well as being a flight risk. They found his passport and a briefcase full of cash in his car,” he explained.
Lily sighed and leaned into the arm Nate laid around her shoulders. “I need to call Bridget and tell her.”
“We’ll call her in the morning,” Nate told her, and brushed a kiss over her hair.
She sighed, closing her eyes at the caress. “In the morning,” she agreed. “I’m beat.”
“Get some sleep,” Jonah advised. “You’ll both have to go down to the precinct tomorrow to give a statement.”
Nate nodded and stood, reaching out a hand to help Lily to her feet. “Thanks, Jonah, for all your help.”
“No problem,” he smiled at them both. “I’ll see you both around.”
“I assume you’ll be checking out of the hotel tomorrow?” she asked him dryly, and he laughed.
“Already done,” he told her. “But I’m still sending my sister to see you. I have to get her out of my office before she drives me crazy.”
Lily chuckled sleepily. “Send her in day after tomorrow,” she said around a yawn. “I think I’m taking tomorrow off.”
“Will do. You guys take care,” he told them then sauntered off.
Lily trudged toward her car, her feet suddenly feeling like lead. “I can’t believe this happened.”
“Tell me about it,” Nate told her, and opened the back door so Beau could jump in, the huge white tiger caught in his jaws, before opening the passenger door for her. “I lost ten years off my life when I heard that gunshot.”
She winced, turning to face him. He was looking down at her, his face stark and open, and she was struck by a sudden wave of love for him. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I truly didn’t think I’d be in any danger coming here or I’d have waited for you.”
“I know,” he said. “I got your message.” His hands skimmed up and down her arms gently before he tugged her in to lie against his chest. “I’m sorry.”
She frowned, her face scrunching up against his chest. “For what?”
“For going behind your back, for not telling you about Jonah, for assuming you couldn’t take care of this yourself.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head back to look at him. “I thought you were apologizing for not getting my message.”
“That too,” he told her, and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose. “I really am sorry, Lily. I just love you so much I’d do anything to keep you safe.”
“You know, that’s the second time you’ve told me you love me,” she said. “The first time you said it you were pissed off.”
“Yeah, I was.”
“And the second time you tell me, it’s right after a big scare.”
He frowned. “What’s your point?”
“Well, are you always going to be telling me that in times of stress?”
“Knowing you?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “Probably.”
She chuckled and dropped her head back to his chest. “I’m sorry too, you know. I should have told you what I was thinking about Max after the break-in.”
He sighed, rubbing his hands over her back. “We both should have talked more.”
“I want you to know I’m going to try to be better about that,” she told him, her eyes drifting closed. His hands on her back felt so good, so soothing, she was afraid she might fall asleep standing up.
“I will too,” he told her.
“Okay,” she yawned.
“Lily?”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve told you I love you twice.” He leaned back so he could look in her face. “Do you have something to tell me?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’m feeling too relaxed,” she told him. “I was going to wait for a moment of stress.”
“If I wrap my hands around your neck, you’ll have a moment of stress,” he growled at her, and she laughed.
“I love you too,” she murmured, and hummed in pleasure when his lips brushed against hers. “But I’m too tired to have make-up sex with you tonight.”
“We’ll do that in the morning too,” he told her, and helped her into the car.
“That works for me,” she sighed.
About the Author
Hannah Murray started reading romances in junior high, hoarding her allowance to buy them and hiding them from her mother. She's been dreaming up stories of her own for years and finally decided to write them down. Being published is a lifelong dream come true, and even her mother is thrilled for her—she knew about the romances all along. Hannah lives in southern Texas in a very small house with a very large dog, where the battle for supremacy rages daily. The dog usually wins. When not catering to his needs, she can usually be found writing, reading or doing anything else that allows her to put off the housework for one more day.
Hannah welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her
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