I nodded. “Totally agree.”
She finished her lunch. “That’s quite a conundrum, right? Finding the guy you’re dating and your sister over the dead body?” She wrapped up the garbage. “Only you, Albertini.”
I snorted. “Yeah. No kidding.” I finished my salad. “Tell me about Pucci.”
She took lipstick out of her handbag and swiped a deep maroon across her lips. “Danny had been in trouble in Nevada and came home for a fresh start. He didn’t say what had happened, but he did say he had a line on a good job here. Something about the Lordes. I think he might’ve been joining the club.”
Had she been hoping to see Pucci or Aiden when she’d shown up at the Lorde’s apartment building? My expression must’ve looked inquisitive because she blushed.
“Yeah, I was looking for either one of them. It’d be nice to see a friendly face.” She took a deep breath.
I could understand. For the first time, I smiled. The past was the past, and part of being a teenager was making mistakes. “I can be a friendly face, too. Welcome home, Jolene.”
I balancedthe two lattes carefully as I smiled at the cop handling the reception area at the police station and strode up the stairs to Pierce’s office. A ruckus came from the farthest interrogation room, so I dodged into his office to stay out of the way in case the scuffle made it down the hallway.
He looked up from a smattering of papers across his thick wooden desk. His eyes were bloodshot, his sandy-blond hair mussed, and his hands broad on the papers. An instant smile tilted his lips as he caught sight of the drinks.
Taking that as an invitation, I strode inside and kicked the door shut behind me with my black pump. “Howdy.”
“Hi.” His gaze didn’t move from the drink.
I handed over the latte and took one of the vacant leather chairs across from him, more than ready to drink my second one of the day.
He tipped his head back and drank rapidly. Then he set it down, rolled his shoulders in his pressed white dress shirt, and kicked back in his chair. “Why are you bringing me coffee?”
I had never been a game player. At least not with people. X-Box was another story. “I need to know where you are with my sister’s case.” I took a drink of my hot latte, which was slightly better than the cold one had been for lunch.
“You know I can’t really talk to you about it,” he said, watching me.
I studied him right back and paused in my interrogation. “You look tired, Grant,” I said. There were new lines fanning out from his eyes, which were a bit bloodshot.
“When I moved to Timber City, I figured it’d be a slower pace than Los Angeles,” he said, drinking more of the latte. “So far, I’ve been wrong.”
I think it was the first time I’d actually seen Grant Pierce with his guard down. He was an interesting guy, and if my plate wasn’t full with Aiden Devlin and heartache right now, I might try to flirt a little bit. Instead, I went the safe and friendly route. “Have you taken a vacation since you’ve been here?”
He shook his head. “No. Not sure where I’d go right now.”
That sounded a little sad. I glanced at the pictures on his desk. “You have what looks like a brother and a sister. Where are they?”
He tapped a pen with his free hand. “Brother in Wyoming and sister in New York City. Both busy and I’m hoping to get them here to relax instead of going there.”
I took a moment to breathe, which is something apparently he needed to do as well. “Why don’t you invite them here this month, since it’s the best time of year to visit? You could take a week or two off and show them around.” People flocked to northern Idaho in July.
He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I’ll do that after I figure out who shot Pucci in the head.”
Well, that was an opening, and we both knew it. I exhaled. “What do you have on Pucci’s murder? You can talk about it because I work for the prosecuting attorney’s office.” Before he could object, I held up a hand. “This wouldn’t get you in trouble. Just me.”
“Maybe I don’t want to see you in trouble,” Grant muttered.
“Is there something I shouldn’t know?” I asked, taking a chance.
Pierce glanced down at his papers. “Not really, to be honest.” He reached into a drawer and brought out a bright and fluorescent pink file folder that was somehow glittery. My name was written neatly on the tab, and he handed it over.
Wow. That was a lot of sparkle. I took the folder and flipped open the top. “What is this?”
“Everything on the case,” Pierce said, drinking more of his coffee.
I gulped and looked up at him. “I don’t understand.”
