Chapter 13: Rustic Pies

Dacey didn't answer her brother.

She let go of the chain, and the ring swung against her scrub top and settled.

"Holt," she said, "move."

He had stepped sideways without my noticing, and now he stood between us with his arms loose at his sides.

"No," he said.

"That's the woman who broke into Brent's apartment."

"I didn't break in," I said. "I used the key he gave me."

"He gave you a key?"

"In March. It's still on his kitchen counter. Check."

"He gave me his in June."

We stared at each other over Holt's shoulder.

Bear walked out from under the table, looked at Dacey, looked at me, and sat down on my foot.

"Traitor," Dacey said to him, but her voice had gone thin.

"Show her the app," Holt said to me quietly.

I took my phone from my apron pocket and opened the payment history.

I held it out to Dacey, and she didn't take it, so I read it to her myself.

"Eleven transfers to Brent Wegner. Spread over fourteen months. Every one says gift."

"He told me you were obsessed with him."

"For fourteen months I thought he was saving for a house."

"Fourteen." Dacey said it to the floor. "I've known him fourteen months."

"I know," I said. "That's the number."

She took the phone then.

Her thumbs moved down the list, a nurse's thumbs, quick and practiced, and I watched her stop at August.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Kept My $11,200 as a Gift, So a Biker's Dog Took My Side from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.