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"Why are your things still in the hallway?" I ask, sitting down next to her on the couch.
She looks up at me, her golden eyes filled with worry and exhaustion. "I wasn't sure which room. I need to protect my heart even more now that Bailey is awake. I know I said I was willing to take the risk, but I'm scared."
"May I?" I stand up and grab her bags.
She nods, watching me warily as I carry them into my bedroom and set them just inside the door. "And that's where they will stay for as long as you want them to.” I sit down beside her and cup her face. “I, too, am scared to jump the gun. I know we haven't known each other very long, but I love how you make me feel. You are the ray of sunshine I didn't know I needed."
She brings her lips to mine in a gentle kiss, but just as I start to deepen it, she pulls back. "Do I smell tacos?" She giggles, pulling away from me.
"I mean, it is Tuesday; did you expect anything different? Come on. Let's eat."
Grabbing a beer, I prepare myself for the conversation I know she doesn't want to have. "Andrea, I know you don't want to talk about last night, but I need to know everything that happened."
"Do you think it has something to do with everything?"
"I don't know. First, I find out the investigators want to talk to me again, then that tabloid article is released, and then Bailey wakes up repeating my name and the worddanger. So I'm not taking anything for granted.” I pause, looking at her pointedly. “Please tell me everything.”
Her hands fidget in her lap. Finally, she sighs, but nods. "I decided to go to Las Vegas to check two more items off my list. I've been obsessed with online Blackjack for years and have always wanted to play on a real table. Carlos was sitting behind me on a machine, and when I got up to leave, he asked me to join him at a live table."
Tightness stretches across my upper back, but I try to keep my anger at bay. She’s so trusting, and I love this about her, but the kind of men who prey on women like Andrea? I want to rip them apart with my bare hands. I pull in a deep breath to calm myself. "Did you tell anyone where you were going?"
"Just Lindsay."
I nod, waiting for Andrea to finish a mouthful of taco. "Then what?"
"We drank and played cards for a couple of hours. I was buzzed but not drunk. When I had enough, we went out to listen to music. Carlos went and bought us those large slushie drinks. It was hot, so I sucked mine down quickly.” Her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I expected a decent buzz, but…”
When she trails off, it takes everything in me to give her the time she needs. I’m o impatient to get to the bottom of this. My gut tells me this is related to me somehow, though I have no idea how to draw that connection.
“Not too long after I finished my drink, I began to feel light-headed and dizzy. My legs gave out from under me. I grabbed on to Carlos to catch me, and that's the last thing I remember.” She pauses, gaze flicking to my fists on the table.
I breathe deeply and unclench my hands. “Sorry. Go on.”
“The R.V. was in disarray when I woke up this morning, and my electronics were missing."
"And you're sure he didn't hurt you?"
"I'm not sure because I blacked out, but unless he dressed me the same way I was when I left, I don't think so. Do you think this could be related to Bailey?"
"I don't know, but if they accuse me of being involved, anything is possible."
Waking up next to Andrea is incredible. Everything about this woman is mesmerizing. I spent most of the night watching her sleep, just listening to her soft breath go in and out. I hated leaving her naked body in bed this morning. But this time, I made sure to give her a proper wake-up, not just a note. Hence, me being fifteen minutes late for my meeting.
"Good morning, Mr. Abrams. Thank you for joining us. We've met before; I'm Detective Munoz, and these men are from the TFI."
"Mr. Abrams, I'm Agent Pierce, and this is my partner, Agent Whitlock. We are from the Office of Terrorism and Financial Intelligence."
" Terrorism? Financial Intelligence? What does this have to do with Bailey's shooting?"
"We'll ask the questions, Mr. Abrams. How well did you know Bailey Hollis?"
"How welldoI know Bailey Hollis?”
The man nods.
“She's been my best friend for the past seven years. She also works in my shop as a tattoo artist, and she handles my bookkeeping. So, I'd say I know her fairly well."
"Why was Miss Hollis doing your books… rather than a bookkeeper?" Agent Pierce asks.
