Twiggy’s lip curled a little. “Hmm. And they told you her name was Emery?” I nodded. “That’s really strange considering everyone except her own parents call her Cotton. It’s why I didn’t even recognize the name Emery.” Her dark blue eyes were too keen, and I cleared my throat.
“What can you tell me about her?”
“Is she in trouble?”
I lied again. “Not to my knowledge.” I made my gaze meet hers, frank and open. I was a good liar—had to be in my profession in order to get close to someone.
After assessing my intentions for another grueling series of seconds, she relented and turned to her laptop. “She’s the same age as Shiloh. Has rich parents, very chichi, high society types who own a horse farm. They don’t get along particularly well. I’ve heard they were angry when she enlisted and the only reason she did so was to mess with their heads. She’s been in for four years and according to this was just released to active reserve duty.” She licked her lip thoughtfully. “So, if you saw her last night, I’d say she’s home for a visit with Shy, or to settle in now that she’s finished with active duty.”
“What did she do in the military?”
“Communications. She’s a technical writer.”
“So, she would have been doing data entry, preparing documents, that sort of thing.”
“Probably. I’m sure a fair amount of her time was spent in training and coursework. It looks like she earned a degree in communications while she was serving.”
“Impressive.” My mind was working, wondering if her work in the military was in some way responsible for the hit.
“Looks like she worked primarily on base in Texas, but had a couple of brief deployments.”
I rose and carried my plate to the sink, not waiting on Madge to clean up after me. “So, would she be staying with Shiloh and Gunner, or with her parents?”
“More than likely, Shiloh. She and her parents really do not get along. Her mother is a little intense and her stepfather is just an asshole.”
“Got it.” I made my way to the door, deep in thought. “Thanks, squirt. I have some work to do, so I’ll see you later.”
“Brodie?”
I paused. “Yeah?”
Twiggy’s narrow face was worried. “Promise she’s not in any trouble?”
For the third time that morning, I made myself lie. “Promise. Later, Twig.”
