Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,60

his strawberry shake, which he’d saved until he’d finished his lunch. “The article said that he’s a convicted felon, so that makes him a criminal.”

I swallowed more of my shake. “Huh.”

“Huh is not an appropriate answer.” He drank his shake. “You do not seem like you would date a criminal.”

“Thanks?” I stirred my straw to break up some of the frozen brew. “I feel like he isn’t a criminal. At least not anymore. People can change, right?”

Pauley watched a couple of jet skis on the lake. “I do not believe people truly change. I could be wrong.”

I grinned. “You rarely are wrong.”

“That is true.” He set his wrapper and now empty French fry container into the bag. “How are you doing proving that neither Tessa nor Aiden killed Danny Pucci?”

Apparently Pauley had read the entire article. “Not well,” I admitted.

“Would you like my help?” he asked. “I am much smarter than you.”

I chuckled. “Although that’s true, it’s not polite to say it.”

“You do not mind.” He stood and carried the garbage into my kitchen to properly dispose of it.

I ran through what was on the murder board. Nothing gory or any bad pictures. I followed Pauley inside. “I have a case board set up. Maybe you can see connections I haven’t.” I led him into the laundry room and hopped up on the washing machine to wait.

Pauley stood against the dryer and studied the connections across the board. “This is weird in the laundry room.”

“I didn’t have any other wall that would work except my bedroom, and I didn’t want this in there.” The last thing I needed to see in the morning was Danny Pucci’s face on a murder board. Plus, Aiden spent time in my bedroom and had never set foot in my laundry room, which also mattered for some reason I couldn’t quantify. He didn’t need to know all of my business. “Do you see anything?”

Pauley didn’t so much as twitch. “You are missing one person.”

I straightened as anticipation lanced through me. “I am?”

“Yes.” He reached for his wallet and took out a picture. I already had Tessa on there but couldn’t see past his back to the picture. Moving forward, he placed it on the board and drew connections between it, Aiden, Tessa, and Danny Pucci. Then he stepped back.

I exhaled. It was a picture of me that he’d taken at a family picnic a couple of years ago. My heart started thundering for no good reason, so I took several deep breaths like I’d been taught. In through the nose and out through the mouth. “I know my connections to Tessa and Aiden, obviously. Why Danny?”

“He was in court with you, and he hurt your sister. Also, you were the first person through the door before the police, and you are a witness that Aiden and Tessa were in the room.”

Pauley really had read the entire article.

I didn’t like seeing my picture on the board, but Pauley had a point. “I don’t have a connection to the Lordes or Rich Pucci, or the Walker sisters.”

“You are connected to the Lordes through Aiden and to Rich through Danny,” Pauley countered. “The Walker sisters are connected to Danny and Rich. You are all connected in one way or another.”

Maybe, but an argument could be made for most people in that case. I grabbed the notepad I’d left on the counter and quickly sketched out a terrible reproduction of the BGC tattoo before jumping off the washing machine and pinning it next to the picture of Danny. “This tattoo is on Kelsey Walker, Danny Pucci, and Rich Pucci,” I said. “Any idea what BGC stands for?”

Pauley scrutinized the drawing. “No. Does the mortician Krissy Walker have the same tattoo?”

“How did you know she’s a mortician?” I asked.

“I overheard my mother and your mother discussing the article,” he admitted. “Your mother is hoping you’re not making a huge mistake with Aiden Devlin, and my mother is furious with the reporter who wrote the article.” He slid his hands into his pocket. “Your father thinks you’re still a virgin, according to what your mother said to mine.”

I coughed.

Pauley rocked back on his heels. “Fathers are purposefully blind, I have decided. Even so, I believe everyone would like for you to keep your private life out of the newspaper.”

“I’d like that, too,” I grumbled.

Pauley nodded as if his job was done. “You did not answer me. Does Krissy Walker have that tattoo?”

“I don’t know.” I stepped closer to the board. “She