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“Noted.” I step to the threshold of the elevator when it opens and block the sensors so it can’t close again. “Get us car keys. You can stay outside if you’re afraid of seeing the woman.”
“I didn’t say I was afraid.” Affronted, Aubree dashes off the lift and sprints to her desk.
Snagging a set of keys from the top drawer, she runs back again; twenty feet each way, and she puffs like a twenty-five-year-old dog in the middle of a Texas summer.
“Whew.” Setting her hands on her knees and panting like she’s run a marathon, she doubles over and shakes her head. “Haven’t run that much in years.”
“You’re pathetic.” Hitting the basement level again, I wait for the doors to close and for Aubree’s lungs to use up all the oxygen, leaving me with only filthy carbon dioxide. “You’re seriously dying over that run?”
“What?” she wheezes, though I suspect it’s more a show than reality.I hope.“I’m a doctor, Doctor. Not an athlete.”
“You don’t have to be an athlete to be able to cover that distance!” I glance up to the numbers above the doors and count us down. Fifth floor. Fourth. Third. “The fact you’re struggling to live right now is insane.”
“Hush. I didn’t ask for your workout tips.”
As though by magic, Aubree stands tall again when the elevator stops on our level, then she sashays out and makes a beeline for our car. “Did you meet Fletch’s new nanny yet? I heard she’s hot.”
“Nope. I just heard she exists.” Sliding into the passenger side, I fix my seatbelt and set the manila folder on my lap. “Why did no one want Holly to have a fair investigation? What does she have to do with Chant and Kavanagh and the rest of them?”
“Maybe nothing.” Aubree starts the car and slowly drives us out of the parking garage. “Maybe Chant knows Holly, or maybe Chant knew Kavanagh and Thomas. Maybe they all attended the same clubs, and they just enjoyed having easy cases.”
“But they’re not supposed to be easy,” I growl. “They’re supposed to be done properly.”
“Exactly.”
Slowing at the end of the George Stanley driveway, Aubree sits on the edge of her seat, leaning forward so her nose almost touches the windscreen. She looks silly and small. My legs are slightly longer than hers, which means when I drive, the seat is pushed back just that little bit extra.
Curious, I take out Holly’s photos again.
There should be hundreds of them, taken from every angle so we can recreate the scene once we’ve left it. We should see her face. Her torso. Her hands and hips. All we’ve got is her slumped on her seat, and a view of her bloody shoulder.
Still, the few I have are better than what we had an hour ago.
“The seat’s too far back,” I murmur.
“Yeah, I know.” At a gap in the traffic, Aubree guns the accelerator and sends us zooming onto the street so other cars honk at our intrusion. “I was just too lazy to fix it.”
“No.” I turn Holly’s photograph her way so she can see it and still drive. “The seat. It’s pushed back the whole way.”
“So?” Clueless for a moment, she searches. But when it finally clicks, her eyes widen. “Her seat was pushed all the way back!”
“Kinda makes me wonder if someone taller drove the car before her. Perhaps a man.”
“That asshole,” she hisses. “ItwasHenry! And this is why I have trust issues.”
Despite the seriousness of our mission, laughter bubbles free of my chest. “Thisis why you have trust issues? Really? Henry and Holly Wade and a possible murder we’ve yet to uncoverconcreteevidence of? That’s what’s got you pessimistic about life?”
“Well, this and Timothy Malone.” She grins in that playful way she does and brings us around a tight corner.
Tires squeal, and my butt slides along the seat until my heart kicks in my chest.
“He’s a douchebag,” she continues, “responsible for ninety-eight percent of everything I discuss in therapy.”
“You see a therapist?” I ask, surprised.
She cackles and skids around another corner fast enough to make me reach out and hold the door. “I can’t afford that kind of luxury. But I’m kinda starting to consider it.”
“Mm.” Reaching across, I gently tug her growing locks. “And how much do you pay the salon each month for those pink streaks?”
