how Brant ever got her to go out with him in the first place.”
“I don’t suppose you know why they broke up.”
“Nope. I didn’t see him for a couple months, not ’til Thanksgiving. He covered it up, but I could tell he was really sad. When I asked him if he was going to tell Mom and Dad about his engagement, he said there wasn’t anything to tell them. He wouldn’t talk to me about it.”
“Okay, well, here’s the big question: If it was so over, why was he at her funeral?”
“Maybe it was over for her,” Arie said. “But not for him. Besides, that’s not the big question.”
Chandra quirked her eyebrows in a question.
“The two really big questions are why was Brant so upset about O’Shea watching him, and why is O’Shea watching him in the first place?”
After Chandra left, Arie pulled out Marissa’s book and studied the author photo on the back. After a few minutes, the page’s edges shimmered, and Arie felt another wave of nausea roll over her. She tore her eyes from the photo and dropped the book. It fell open to the dedication page. Arie leaned over and picked it up.
To B—
Whose love and encouragement brought a sweet light into my darkest days.
All my love,
M—
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Arie skittered around the corner of the van and almost careened into Grady.
“Whoa, dude. You’re late,” he said. “Not going to be a habit, is it?”
“No, definitely not. I—”
“Save it.” Grady pulled their supplies out of the van. “Long as we get this done today, I don’t care. Unless it happens again.” Grady gave her the evil eye, but the banana suit took some of the punch out of it.
Arie stuffed herself into her suit as fast as she could and followed Grady up the stairs to Marissa’s apartment. She wished she’d been able to stop for coffee, but had overslept and nearly been late to work. Lack of sleep and no caffeine made her stumble on the steps. After seeing Marissa’s dedication, she’d kept reading through the night. Rich Bitch could have been used as a training manual for the International Coalition of Gold Diggers, if such a thing existed. Considering how many women bought the book, there seemed to be a need.
Thing was, it didn’t read as though the Marissa Brant had been dating could have written it. The one time Arie had met her, she’d seemed . . . sweet.
At any rate, it looked as if she and Grady would be finishing the job that day. Maybe she’d get a little relief from the visions if she wasn’t in direct contact with Marissa’s things.
But, Arie feared, maybe she wouldn’t.
They had to disinfect the hole in the floor one more time, but then it was mostly just hauling bags and crates down to the van.
When Arie walked into Marissa’s bedroom, she saw it in a new light. Had Brant ever been here?
Yesterday, the furniture had been pushed to the other side of the bedroom to give them space to work on the gaping hole. The bloody section of the carpet had been removed. The whole thing would have to be taken out, of course, but that wasn’t BioClean’s problem.
Arie grabbed a crate and started picking up tools and cleaning supplies. A utility knife slipped from her fingers and fell behind the dresser.
“Great,” Arie mumbled. She lay on her stomach and stretched her arm as far as she could under the dresser. Her boobs got in the way. She twisted onto her side, and her eye caught a glint of metal. She strained to reach it, and the metal object tickled her fingertip and then squirted out of reach.
Arie heard the front door open and then male voices conferring in the living room. She hated the idea of Guts finding her like this. She could leave the knife. Nobody would know.
But retrieving it had become a thing now.
As footsteps started down the hall, Arie’s fingers closed over the object.
She pulled it out and jumped to her feet. Even before looking, she knew it wasn’t the knife. A key.
And not just any key. Arie recognized it as the key from
“I don’t suppose you know why they broke up.”
“Nope. I didn’t see him for a couple months, not ’til Thanksgiving. He covered it up, but I could tell he was really sad. When I asked him if he was going to tell Mom and Dad about his engagement, he said there wasn’t anything to tell them. He wouldn’t talk to me about it.”
“Okay, well, here’s the big question: If it was so over, why was he at her funeral?”
“Maybe it was over for her,” Arie said. “But not for him. Besides, that’s not the big question.”
Chandra quirked her eyebrows in a question.
“The two really big questions are why was Brant so upset about O’Shea watching him, and why is O’Shea watching him in the first place?”
After Chandra left, Arie pulled out Marissa’s book and studied the author photo on the back. After a few minutes, the page’s edges shimmered, and Arie felt another wave of nausea roll over her. She tore her eyes from the photo and dropped the book. It fell open to the dedication page. Arie leaned over and picked it up.
To B—
Whose love and encouragement brought a sweet light into my darkest days.
All my love,
M—
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Arie skittered around the corner of the van and almost careened into Grady.
“Whoa, dude. You’re late,” he said. “Not going to be a habit, is it?”
“No, definitely not. I—”
“Save it.” Grady pulled their supplies out of the van. “Long as we get this done today, I don’t care. Unless it happens again.” Grady gave her the evil eye, but the banana suit took some of the punch out of it.
Arie stuffed herself into her suit as fast as she could and followed Grady up the stairs to Marissa’s apartment. She wished she’d been able to stop for coffee, but had overslept and nearly been late to work. Lack of sleep and no caffeine made her stumble on the steps. After seeing Marissa’s dedication, she’d kept reading through the night. Rich Bitch could have been used as a training manual for the International Coalition of Gold Diggers, if such a thing existed. Considering how many women bought the book, there seemed to be a need.
Thing was, it didn’t read as though the Marissa Brant had been dating could have written it. The one time Arie had met her, she’d seemed . . . sweet.
At any rate, it looked as if she and Grady would be finishing the job that day. Maybe she’d get a little relief from the visions if she wasn’t in direct contact with Marissa’s things.
But, Arie feared, maybe she wouldn’t.
They had to disinfect the hole in the floor one more time, but then it was mostly just hauling bags and crates down to the van.
When Arie walked into Marissa’s bedroom, she saw it in a new light. Had Brant ever been here?
Yesterday, the furniture had been pushed to the other side of the bedroom to give them space to work on the gaping hole. The bloody section of the carpet had been removed. The whole thing would have to be taken out, of course, but that wasn’t BioClean’s problem.
Arie grabbed a crate and started picking up tools and cleaning supplies. A utility knife slipped from her fingers and fell behind the dresser.
“Great,” Arie mumbled. She lay on her stomach and stretched her arm as far as she could under the dresser. Her boobs got in the way. She twisted onto her side, and her eye caught a glint of metal. She strained to reach it, and the metal object tickled her fingertip and then squirted out of reach.
Arie heard the front door open and then male voices conferring in the living room. She hated the idea of Guts finding her like this. She could leave the knife. Nobody would know.
But retrieving it had become a thing now.
As footsteps started down the hall, Arie’s fingers closed over the object.
She pulled it out and jumped to her feet. Even before looking, she knew it wasn’t the knife. A key.
And not just any key. Arie recognized it as the key from
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