I take my eyes off the road briefly to look at her. Her tone said frustration, but the pinch of her eyes tells me she’s concerned more than anything.
Moving my hand higher up her thigh, I tell her, “I don’t mind. I’ll get you anything you need.”
Resting her hand on top of mine, where it lays on her thigh, she forces a smile. “I have my assistant, Anna. I can just send her out.”
“Okay, well, if she can’t go, you let me know.”
She agrees, and we ride in silence for a little while. When we’re on the outskirts of the city, I ask, “Do you need to stop by your house for anything?”
She shakes her head. “I can do laundry at your condo. I don’t need anything right now.”
By the time we get to my place, all the anxiety and fear from a few days ago hit me all at once. Like food you left out that’s starting to go bad, it makes me slightly nauseous. But I breathe through the feeling. I need to keep it together for Lily. I need her to know that she can trust me to be strong, no matter what happens.
We get upstairs to my condo, and Lily leaves me in the living room with a kiss, saying she’s going to do some laundry. I collapse on the couch and take a few minutes for myself. Hank hops up and perches on my stomach. Even though I know he was perfectly fine on his own for a few days, with plenty of water and food and a visit from Mandi, Igive him some extra love as an apology for leaving him. “Hey, buddy. Good to see you, too.”
Running my hand down his back, I stare out the windows. Now that we’re back in Nashville and away from our little safe haven in the mountains, the uphill battle we’re up against feels insurmountable. Not that I’ll tell Lily that. But her admission changes everything. Not how I feel about her—that hasn’t changed. But everything else has. The stakes are infinitely higher now. I feel like I’m swimming against the current in pitch-black water.
Oh, and I can’t swim.
Especially now that I’m convinced I’m in love with Lily.
There’s only one thing I can do at the moment. I relocate Hank to the couch next to me as I sit up and grab my bag. Removing my notepad and Blake’s laptop, I set them on the coffee table, resting my elbows on my knees and reading over my notes for the countless time as the computer turns on. Now that I know what really happened that night, I need to find anything that casts doubt on Lily’s guilt. I need to find anything that gives me more information on what Blake was really into, especially since the person who tried to break into Lily’s house is still unknown.
I’ll never admit this to Lily, but it’s overwhelming, even as I feel more determined than ever. With both the police and this person that Blake was in business with as a threat to Lily, I don’t even know where to start. I sit back slightly so I can pull my cell phone out of my jean pockets. Scrolling through my contacts, I connect the call with the one I need. I probably should feel guilty for withholding the information about what happened from Carlos, but I just can’t bring myself to. While we may approach the situation differently, I know Carlos would be doing everything he could to help the woman he loved.
It rings three times before I hear, “Chris, how were the mountains? Feeling refreshed?”
A female voice follows his through the speaker, and a smile tugs at my lips. “Tell Mandi I said hi.”
Carlos chuckles. “Mandi, Chris says hi.” Mandi says something else I can’t make out before Carlos says, “Yeah. Absolutely not. I’m not telling him that. What can I do for you, Chris?”
Tapping my pen on the notepad, I explain, “Lily has Blake’s laptop, and we’ve been going through it. I need to know if a name ever came up when you were investigating him before he was killed?”
There’s only silence for a few seconds before he asks, “You have Blake’s laptop?”
I shrug even though he can’t see me. “Yeah, the cops didn’t take it the day he died. And they’ve never asked Lily for it.”
Carlos laughs. “What fucking idiots.” I don’t argue with him before he says, “Yeah, I can tell you if the name sounds familiar. I might not be able to give you much info, but I’ll tell you everything I’m able to.”
“Does the last name Goodwin sound familiar?”
Once again, there’s silence.
“Uh, Carlos?”
He sighs. “Is there a first name?”
“Just an initial. J.”
“Goddamnit, I fuckingknewit.”
I’m about to ask him if he’s going to elaborate when he continues.
“There were rumors that Blake was wrapped up in some deal with a drug dealer named Jason Goodwin. Goodwin got his hands on this designer drug that’s supposed to mimic the effects of ecstasy, but it lasts longer and has fewerside effects. Except they messed up because, whoopsie, you might throw up less, but it actually might also kill you because it’s way easier to overdose on it than normal ecstasy.”
I scan my notes, looking for anything that would provide us with more information on his connection to Goodwin. “I’m assuming you were never able to find a connection?”
“Nothing that would hold up in court. Not only is finding a connection between these two difficult, but finding Goodwin in general is damn near impossible.”
