“That distinction will be up to you.” Pierce’s tone becomes strangely sharp when he says, “The man behind the wheel had used a number of aliases in recent years.”
“So?” I’m not really following where he’s going with this. “Was he a criminal or something?”
Maybe Matt hired him to hit me. Paid him an ungodly amount of money to risk his life to end mine. He could’ve even used a middleman. Someone to make sure?—
“One of the aliases he used was Daniel Jackson.”
Pierce’s revelation stuns me, because I never saw that coming.
Brooke immediately starts firing off questions. “Daniel Jackson, as in the same alias the guy who almost killed Mariah and Maren was using?” She shakes her head, expression filled with confusion. “How is that possible? Is it normal for people to use the same name like that?”
“No. It’s not normal.” Pierce’s next words hit me from left field. “That’s why my team and I are working on the theory that the man who hit your truck was not connected to Matt.” His pause is short, but still provides plenty of time for dread to build in my gut. “But he was likely affiliated with the man who set off the bomb at McKinley Security Systems.”
Epilogue
Brooke
Pulling in a deep breath, I smooth out the simple line of my floor-length dress. The brocade fabric is a deep shade of copper that picks up the reddish highlights in my hair, and the wrap style makes it easy to move around in while also being flattering and comfortable.
I knew it was what I wanted the second I saw it.
“Can you stop moving?” Maren grips my head, twisting it where she wants it. “I know you’re excited, but you’re about to go out there with wonky curls.”
“She doesn’t care.” Mariah sits in front of me, carefully applying the same sort of nails she wore the day she married Titus. “She’s in a hurry.”
I smile wide, because she’s right. I am. I can’t get out of this room fast enough. “Can you blame me?”
“If you’re going to tell me about all the ways he rocks your world, you can save your breath.” Maren twists another section of my hair around the curling iron in her hand. “My desk is right outside your office, and that door isn’t as soundproof as you clearly think it is.”
I should be embarrassed, but my smile only widens. “You’re just jealous.”
“Of course I am.” Maren releases the curl and moves to the next one. “I’m also happy for you because I love you.”
My throat tightens, but in a good way. “I love you too.”
Maren snorts. “You better. Because I haven’t been laid in over a year, and at this point you’re just rubbing it in.”
“Maybe you should be rubbing oneoutthen.” I smile at Maren’s scoff. “It might take the edge off.”
“There.” Mariah presses the final nail into place, leaning back to look over her handywork. “Those look so pretty.”
I hold them up, checking out the shimmery tone that’s a shade darker than my dress. “I love them.”
I haven’t worn nails like this since leaving California. I haven’t even put on polish because I didn’t want to be anything like who I was.
But I’m rethinking that stance. I like being a little fancy. I put a lot of effort into how I dress for work. I love feeling like I look good.
And there’s no denying these nails look good. They were also super simple to apply, which is a huge bonus since I’m really freaking busy. Between work, helping Mariah with the twins, doing everything I can to get Toby back on his feet, and trying to keep Copper from teaching Bruno her bad humping habits, I don’t have a lot of spare time.
And the spare time I do have, I spend in the pool, floating on a raft with a book in my hand.
It’s freaking amazing.
Just as Maren is finishing up with my hair, pinning one side back with the vintage gold floral, rhinestone-studded barrette she gifted me, there’s a knock at the door.
Deidre peeks her head in. “How’s it going in here?”
“Great.” I twist a little in my seat, giving her a better look at my hair. “How do I look?”
