“Pierce,” he answered.
“Hi. I’m wondering if you have anything on last night’s break-in,” I said.
“Nope. Still going through the CCTV footage Aiden provided.”
I’d already seen it. The lead Cupid had hefted Saul’s body over his shoulder and walked through the building to dump him in my office. He’d been fully dressed up with the gold wig and tight shirt. The police had tried to find tracks of his boots in the outside parking lot to make molds, but they’d been unsuccessful.
“Do you have anything else on the Cupid case?” I asked.
“Not in the four hours since we chatted last,” he said.
Enough small talk. “All right, you know why I’m really calling.”
“Is this about Basanelli?”
“Yeah. Anything there?”
He sighed heavily. “I just received the DNA results for Lisa Robinson.”
My heart leapt into my throat. “Please, tell me hers is the unidentified blood from the scene.”
“Nope. Sorry. We don’t know whose blood that was.”
Darn it. I’d really wanted the blood to be hers. “That still gives me reasonable doubt. Since you arrested my client and the governor is probably about to appoint a special prosecutor, I’d like to formally request all the evidence you have in the case so far. I’ll send over the paperwork later. Give me something now.”
“Fair enough. We found Nick’s blood on Imogen’s shirt as well as on his father’s jeans. As you recall, Nick vowed that he hadn’t seen Imogen that weekend at all.”
Well, crap.
Chapter31
After a lunch of pure protein obtained by Oliver because, apparently, that was his new eating plan, I finished drafting a timber contract, my mind still on Nick and Tessa. I understood that life was crazy right now, and everything was up in the air, but I truly wanted them to get engaged before Valentine’s Day. I had scheduled a meeting with the Basanelli boys for the following morning, and I wasn’t above pulling in Nick’s brothers as co-conspirators on this one.
My office phone light blinked a bright red. “Hey, Oliver, what’s up?”
“Um, you have a couple of gentlemen here to see you without an appointment,” he said, sounding tough.
That could be anybody. “Who’s here?”
“A Wayne and Spencer Wilson.”
That was strange. “Send them back, would you?”
“Sure. Gentlemen, you may go on back. In fact, let me show you,” Oliver said, a low thread of threat in his voice. I rolled my eyes. Between Oliver at the front desk and Bud covering the front door, I couldn’t be more protected right now.
The two brothers made their way back, and Oliver gestured them inside. “Ms. Albertini, would you like the door open or closed?” he asked formally.
“Please close it, Oliver,” I said. “Thank you.” He gave them another hard look and then disappeared. Man, all I needed was for him to start learning self-defense from Aiden as he’d requested last week.
I looked at the two Wilson brothers. Wayne sat to the right, looking slightly irritated with crossed arms, while his brother had ditched the three-piece suit for a cherry-red golf shirt. dark jeans, and a nice brown leather jacket. He looked dejected, and even his red hair had lost some of its curl.
They sat and were the same height at about five nine, but Wayne seemed to have found his spine while Spencer now hunkered down in his chair. The guy looked like he’d much rather be back in Montana with his case files.
Wayne smiled. “You’re probably surprised to see us.”
“A little bit,” I admitted. “What can I do for you?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Since you asked, how about we meet for coffee tomorrow? It’s on me.”
