Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,61
is dating Rich Pucci, so it’s possible.”
“Do not try to figure out how to get her naked,” Pauley warned, his upper lip twitching a minuscule amount. “You are in enough trouble right now, and assault or battery or perhaps harassment would give Nicolo no other option but to fire you. You need your job to buy shoes that make you happy.”
I wanted to nudge him but contented myself with smiling. “Shoes make a lot of people happy.”
“Helloooo,” came from the other room as my front door opened.
Pauley and I jumped and scrambled out of the laundry room as if we’d been caught sneaking cookies from Nana O’Shea.
“Aunt Rachel.” I hurried toward her for a hug. She was the exact opposite of Uncle Sean with her petite frame and sparkling brown eyes.
“Hello.” She hugged me with one arm and then handed over a grocery bag that smelled like fresh salmon. “I got you some good pieces that were protected from the gravel.” She angled her head to the side. “What were you two doing?”
“Nothing,” I said, while Pauley looked down at his perfectly tied tennis shoes.
Rachel’s chin lowered. “You had better not be getting Pauley involved in a case. Last time you both got kidnapped.”
“I totally agree.” I took the bag toward the kitchen. Having Pauley study a board in my laundry room wasn’t exactly getting him involved. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“Can’t,” Aunt Rachel said. “We have plans tonight in the valley. How was your session, Pauley?”
Pauley looked up at her and then looked away. Many autistic people didn’t like keeping eye contact. “It was good. People get Shingles, Cousin Wanda is happy being single, and Anna is probably not a virgin.” He moved to walk toward the door. “Thank you, Anna. Goodbye.”
Chapter 22
I stared at the board that now had a picture of me on it while dialing Aiden’s number.
“Hey, Angel,” he answered.
Heat flew throughout my body. I liked that. A lot. “A truck turned over in the valley earlier today.”
“What’d we get?”
I grinned. “Salmon. My aunt brought me several steaks. Are you up for dinner tonight?”
“And then some,” he said, his voice low and rough.
A shiver wound its way through my entire body. Oh, this was so bad. “All right.” I cleared my throat because I’d gone all hoarse for some reason. “What time?”
The sound muffled, and a gunshot echoed. Then he was back. “I’m going to be late—probably ten-ish. Do you mind eating that late?”
I stiffened. “Was that a gunshot?”
He kept silent.
“Aiden?”
“I promised not to lie to you, remember?” His voice came through muffled again, and I swear I heard another gunshot. “We’re not doing anything illegal.”
“Where are you?” I asked.
“I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.” He clicked off.
Why was Aiden shooting guns somewhere? Not that shooting was unheard of in Idaho. But still. Why the secrets? Was he up working with Rich Pucci again? I had to figure that guy out as well as the tattoo. Maybe Aiden knew what the tattoo stood for. Interesting.
Well, I had some free time, so it was time for answers. I grabbed my purse and keys before heading out to the garage and starting my Fiat. The drive away from Tamarack Lake toward Timber City was peaceful and sunny in the afternoon light, and I found myself relaxing a little even though I was on the hunt. I headed toward town and then turned to the west, driving down the quiet residential street and by Kelsey Walker’s apartment building. Since it was still before five, I didn’t expect to see her, and the place was dark.
There was a small park at the end of the street, and I maneuvered my car into a parking spot away from the road and partially hidden behind a sweeping birch tree. Then I sat and waited. A few green leaves from the tree fell onto my hood.
I called and chatted with my mom and both grandmas, enjoying their outrage at Jolene O’Sullivan. If they had concerns about me, they didn’t show it. The support was overwhelming. Then I called both of my sisters, who were working and couldn’t talk for long. I called Lacey in the big city and reported that I’d spent lunchtime with her brother and that she should come home to work. Of course, I had to leave her a message.
My stomach growled around six. Darn it. Why hadn’t I brought food on the stakeout? Pursing my lips, I dialed another number.