“I’d like to report a homicide, Detective Jones.”
Holiday looked up from the form she was neatly filling out and gave her attention to the person speaking to her. A thin brow arched over her hazel eyes and she pushed a stray strand of hair back behind her ear – pointless as that gesture was, since it simply fell back into her eyes. “You know we typically get the homicides reported to us, Rob,” she replied to her partner, her mouth curving into a grin. “We’re the poor schmucks with the thankless job of figuring out whodunit.”
Robert Weston sat across from her, his desk flush with hers, and he was all but laid out across the myriad of papers spread across the surface. “Okay, I’d like to report my homicide. If I have to do one more ounce of paperwork, I swear, it will be responsible for my death. Have pity, Hollie.”
“Oh, give it here, you big baby,” she said, laughing, holding her hand out for the remainder of his paperwork. “Go home. I’ll be expecting dinner, just so you know, in return for picking up your slack.”
“Knew there was a reason I kept you around,” he said with a grin, giving her the stack of sheets before standing up. Rob walked around the desks and placed his hand over one shoulder, squeezing lightly. It was the most public display of affection they allowed themselves while they were at work. It was work, keeping their two very different relationships balanced, but somehow, they were managing, and no one was more surprised than Holiday Jones.
When she had been transferred to the San Diego Police Department at the request of her brother-in-law Bradford, the current chief of police in San Diego, she had been a class-A screw-up at her former precinct in Phoenix. Holiday had started out as a uniform in Tallahassee, having always wanted to be a police officer, even after her father had been murdered by his partner, then had transferred to Honolulu when a big case broke there and the chief, a friend of her captain, had requested backup from their precinct. Holiday had volunteered and ended up moving there – mainly because she had become involved with a man she’d worked closely with. Andrew Waterson had seemed perfect, and they were soon married, only to find that everything had changed. She’d suffered three miscarriages before, three years after they were married, she’d walked in on her husband and partner together in bed.
It had seemed like everything went to hell from there. She filed for divorce, was forced to undergo counseling, and was shuffled to a different division than her ex-husband and partner worked in. Finally unwilling to deal with it any further, she left Hawaii and moved back to the mainland, working what was effectively a desk job in Phoenix and sinking deeper into her depression. It wasn’t long before she was a bonafide alcoholic, barely functioning at work, spending most of her time brooding into a bottle. Holiday didn’t learn until a few years later that she had been close to getting canned and losing her pension when her brother-in-law, at the request of her sister Ella, had put through a transfer to his department.
She had moved to San Diego and was working on cleaning up her act when her sister was brutally murdered, the first victim of what turned out to be a serial killer, caught only when a would-be victim blinded him and broke his legs. It caused a downward slide back into her most dangerous depths, and this time, her brother-in-law couldn’t save her, as he was barely functioning himself. It took nearly being drowned after she’d passed out drunk on the beach just before high tide for Holiday to get the help she knew she needed, and pull Bradford out of his own rut.
Holiday was paired with Rob Weston soon after, a transfer from Los Angeles, who could be assigned as her partner with minimal fuss – no one else in the precinct would tolerate being her partner. They had matched up well, though, and before long, a friendship between them had developed – and then, there was more. Holiday had done what she could to temper the feelings, the ever-present memory of the last man that she’d allowed to get close to her forefront in her mind. But every day that passed, Rob, without even trying, made it apparent that there was no similarity between him and her ex-husband, and they had slipped into a romantic relationship as easily as they had friendship. Holiday had been sober for close to a year, and moved in with him three months before.
Rob left, and Holiday allowed herself the pleasure of watching him go before turning her attention back to the paperwork, which included his as well as what was left of hers. She was the only one left in the detectives’ pen by the time she was finished, and she did what she could to clear up her space quickly. She was always a little wary about being places by herself – paranoia of being a homicide detective. She pulled her light sweater on and grabbed her purse, taking her keys out as she left the pen. Seeing a light on under the door of the Chief’s office, she smiled and stepped past the front desk to knock, then open it enough to slip her head through, getting a look at her brother-in-law. “You know it’s well past dark, right, Brad?”
Bradford Montgomery had been an English lord before giving up his seat to a cousin who cared more for the task and leaving for the States. He’d put himself through police training, and settled in San Diego, California, once he was finished, working quickly through the ranks as someone who was fair-minded, rational, with a deep-rooted love for the justice system. His marriage to Ella Jones – though he had been nearly twenty years her senior – had been founded in an intense love for the quiet, shy blonde, and it had never come up that he was an aristocrat and she’d been little more than a waitress working her way through college when they’d met. It had been his desire to make Ella happy in all things that had led him to take on Holiday as a project, and he’d been pleased to find that, once one got past her issues, she had fine detective skills. The murder of his wife had nearly been his downfall, but the daughter she had left behind, Daniella, born to them six months before her death, and the help of Holiday had helped to pull him back to reality.
The police chief smiled and waved Holiday in, and she entered, closing the door behind her. “Could say the same to you, Hollie, you’re the last one here, aren’t you?”
She shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I decided to be kind and finish Rob’s paperwork for him.”
Bradford snorted and made a mark on his own form. “Your kindness knows no bounds. How are you and he doing?”
Holiday lifted a brow. “Very well, thank you. He’s a great partner. Couldn’t ask for someone better.”
Her brother-in-law smirked and his blue eyes lifted to pierce Hollie’s gaze. “You know that’s not what I meant, girl.” He laid his pen down and leaned forward. “He’s a good guy. The two of you are a good match. I know your father is gone, Hollie, but I want you to know – I like him. And when the time comes, I’d be happy to stand up with you.”
Holiday blushed, the heat in her cheeks nearly searing. “Um…ah, that’s a really nice sentiment, and I really appreciate it, but we’re nowhere near even thinking about that yet, Brad.”
He laughed and shrugged, grinning. “You will. Rob would be a fool not to, and he’s no fool. That’s easy enough to see. I’m not trying to tell you that you need to jump into it quickly, enjoy your time together. Just…I know you have issues. And I know you know that, I know you’re being careful. I just don’t want you to let that last no-account ass you married mess up what you have.”
Holiday smiled and looked down. If it had been anyone else saying that to her, she’d have jumped down their throat by now, but she knew Bradford meant well. “Thanks, Brad. I’ll do my best.” She stood up and waved. “Get out of here soon, Brad. Give my niece a kiss for me.”
“I’ll do that. We’re having family dinner tomorrow night. My sister’s in town. I’ll expect to see you there.”
She groaned. Elizabeth Stanley was a formidable woman – one with good intentions, a friendly heart, and keen matchmaking skills. Not a visit went by that Elizabeth didn’t try to plan Hollie’s wedding – an event that wasn’t even on the books. “Please, please, Brad – tell her no wedding talk this time. Please.”
He grinned. “I’ll do what I can.”
Shaking her head, she left the room and made her way down to the parking garage. The drive home wasn’t long, but she liked to take her time once she got off the interstate. Driving along the beach was a sight that she never got tired of. She pulled into her parking spot and ascended the steps to the apartment that she shared with Rob, opening the door after finding it unlocked. A spicy scent wafted through the air, awakening her senses and making her smile. He would take her at her word, not that she minded. Rob was a great cook…much better than she’d ever been. Before meeting him, her idea of a gourmet meal had been getting the single-size serving of Stouffer’s lasagna.
Holiday tossed her purse and keys onto the table by the doorway, then stepped out of her black heels. The ponytail holder was removed from her hair, letting the curls fall down her back. She took her pearl-grey suit jacket off and laid it over the back of the couch, then walked into the kitchen, stepping up behind Rob and slipping her arms around his waist. “Smells good,” she said, eyeing the skillet over his shoulder. “What is it?”
“Curry,” he replied, stirring the contents before looking back at her and smiling. “And I picked up some peanut butter chocolate chunk ice cream and a DVD from the store for dessert.”
She grinned and lifted up on her toes, kissing his cheek lightly before stepping back. “You’re too good to me. I’m going to go take a quick shower.”
Rob turned and leaned into her, kissing her lips softly, his hand sliding over her cheek. “You can go now,” he said with a little smile. “I’ve wanted to do that all day, seemed a shame to let it go on much longer.”
For the second time that night, she felt her cheeks heat up, but it was only a warm feeling this time, and she let her eyes linger on him for a second before turning and heading to the bathroom. The water, hot and hard against her back, beat down incessantly, massaging out the tension she got at work. Holiday didn’t stay under the spray long, knowing that dinner would be ready soon, so got out and toweled herself dry. She dressed in the bedroom and walked back into the kitchen just as Rob was dishing the food onto plates and setting them on the dining table. She slid into her seat and pushed her damp hair back. They settled in to eat, long moments passing before Rob spoke. “Thanks for doing those papers, Hols. I don’t mind the field work, but I swear that paperwork is going to kill me one day.”
Holiday laughed and shrugged. “I don’t mind. It’s kind of nice to basically turn off. Course, everyone was gone by the time I was done. Though that was kind of nice too – Bradford was still there. We had a little chat. And we’ve been invited to dinner on Saturday.”
“Oh? What else did Brad have to say?” Rob asked, his brow lifting as he took a bite.
Holiday winced a little and Rob laughed. Bradford wasn’t quite as bad as his sister, but he came from a culture where marriage and babies were a stage of life that didn’t get ignored. His own wife was dead, he was getting old enough that having more children, even if he did remarry eventually, would be something of a risk, so he was keen on having more children brought into his extended family. And that usually meant that he allowed Elizabeth to have her free reign where Holiday was concerned. As much as it embarrassed her, Holiday knew that she was lucky that Rob was such a good sport about it. “Well, Elizabeth is in town, which is apparently part of the occasion for the family dinner. And Brad wanted to impress the importance of me not allowing my previous divorce – and the reasons for it – impede any possible marriage talk between you and me.”
It was Rob’s turn to wince, though he grinned through it. “That Brad.”
Holiday nodded, only able to agree. ‘That Brad’ was an apt description. “I’m not in any hurry, Rob. You know that. But I suppose what he wanted me to get at – I think – is…if and when you ever start thinking of it as something you want…I won’t drag my feet or give you excuses. All I want, really, is to be with you. A piece of paper and sharing your last name isn’t the important part of that.”
Rob reached over and covered her hand with his, his smile genuine and loving. “That’s good enough for me, Hollie.”
They finished dinner and cleaned up together, then settled on the couch with ice cream to watch the movie Rob had rented. Holiday didn’t realize that she had fallen asleep until she woke to find the credits rolling and Rob’s fingers gently sliding over her cheek, brushing her hair back from her face. Her eyes opened slowly, meeting his smiling gaze, and she couldn’t help but return the smile warmly, her hand moving up to cover his where it rested against the side of her face.
She pushed herself up to a sitting position and leaned in, kissing him softly as she slid her hand back through his hair, her body relaxing when she felt his arms sliding around her, holding her there against him. Holiday’s eyes slid shut as Rob’s lips left hers to trail along her neck, nipping her collarbone lightly. Her fingers tangled tighter in his hair and she shifted until she was straddling his legs, a soft sound leaving her throat when his hands moved beneath her shirt, the warmth firm against her skin.
Rob lifted her as he stood up from the couch and carried her into their bedroom. Holiday’s last thought before she clicked off to everything but Rob was that it was amazing how she always dressed for bed, but she never actually ended up wearing anything to bed.
The next morning, she woke long after the sun rose. Normally, the both of them were up and out the door at least half an hour before sunrise, but Holiday took advantage of days off, using them to sleep in and enjoy lying in bed with a warm body curled up behind her, holding her against him even in his sleep. Holiday pulled away from him slowly and leaned down to kiss his cheek softly, then dressed in the clothing that had been shed to the floor the night before. She wasn’t much good in the kitchen, but she could usually manage breakfast, finding that pretty hard to screw up. By the time Rob had woken and made his way out of the bedroom, she had eggs in a bowl, keeping warm under a paper towel, bacon crackling happily in the frying pan, and a stack of buttered toast on a plate.
He moved in behind her and she looked over her shoulder to give him a quick kiss before flipping the bacon over. “I love off mornings,” he said, sleep still tinting his voice. “Off mornings mean Hollie-cooking that won’t kill an elephant.” He grinned as Holiday playfully send her elbow back into his stomach, then kissed her neck and backed away when she took the frying pan off of the burner, transferring the bacon to a paper-towel-covered plate. Once the dishes were placed on the table, they both sat and served themselves, eating quietly, Holiday working on the newspaper’s crossword puzzle, Rob reading the sports section. Theirs was an easy, enjoyable routine for Saturday mornings, with Holiday finding rather often that she liked the fact that she had a routine with a man that she cared for as much as she did the events of that routine. Finishing breakfast, Rob took kitchen cleanup while Holiday started on their laundry, carting two baskets down to the basement level, along with a Ziploc bag of change and the laundry soap.
It was another part of their routine that they used as ‘alone time’. Rob did the house cleanup, then got the time that she was down in the laundry room to play video games or go online or do whatever he did, while Holiday would use the time in the laundry room to read, or take her laptop with her so she could play games. Today, she’d brought a book she’d just bought with her, intending on reading that while the laundry was going.
She had changed the wash to the dryer and set the timer, and had been settling back in to read some more when she noticed that someone had come into the laundry room behind her. The other washer was going, so she figured that she was doing her laundry as well, but she didn’t recognize the other woman. Being a police officer, Holiday made it a point to know the faces of everyone she lived with. Sure, most would say it wasn’t necessary, but Holiday tended to be a little paranoid. The arrival of someone she’d never seen before who apparently lived in their building gave her a disconcerted sort of feeling, but she gave the newcomer what she hoped was a friendly smile, then returned the majority of her attention back to her book. Try as she might, though, Holiday couldn’t manage to keep from looking up at the other woman every few moments.
After checking the woman several times, she was rather puzzled to note that she had seemed to be staring at Holiday more than once. Her brows furrowing, Holiday took a longer glance at her, finding nothing outright odd about her, but…there was something standing out, she just couldn’t put her finger on it. That, more than anything, gave her an ill feeling. Holiday was used to relying on her senses, but her senses seemed to be all out of whack in the presence of this woman.
Deciding to nix the oblivious approach, she went with being friendly instead. “Are you new here? I could have sworn I’d seen everyone else here at least once, and I’m normally really good with faces. I’m Holiday – up on the third floor.”
The woman at first seemed like she was going to ignore Holiday, simply continue staring, but then her lips curved in what Holiday thought of as a slightly cold smile. “Yes. Yes, I just moved in a few days ago, on the second floor. My name is Sheena. It’s nice to meet you, Holiday. Interesting name.”
Inwardly, Holiday’s guard was up, but since the woman had responded, she could only reply in kind. “Oh, you know mothers. It’s better than my first – my mother thought I’d be a boy and was naming me for my father…then I’m born, and all her plans go to hell. So she sticks with the first name anyway – Michael – and gives me the first word she comes across as my middle name. Suppose it could have been worse.”
“Mmm. Indeed,” the woman – Sheena, Holiday reminded herself, replied. “Tell me, have you noticed anything strange going on here lately? I’ve heard some of my neighbors talking about it…odd bumps coming from down here in the basement, strange lights that seem to be gone when someone goes to investigate, voices that apparently come from nowhere. I haven’t experienced it, but enough of the tenants are talking about it that it has me somewhat frightened. I…ah…wouldn’t have moved in if I’d known there was something wrong with this place.”
Holiday’s instincts were racing a mile a minute. Sheena spoke of being frightened, but nothing of the woman’s body language hinted to an ounce of fear – it seemed, rather, that she was trying to collect information. The way she spoke was cold, clinical even. She had explained the events, and then gave a plausible explanation for why she would ask a stranger – neighbor to neighbor, after all. But nothing about her tone or the way she spoke of it said that she wanted anything more than to know if Holiday – perhaps even Holiday in particular, considering how much she had been staring at her before she’d been spoken to – had come across the occurrences.
But Holiday didn’t want to send the wrong signals herself, and unlike Sheena, if she was trying to hide something, she knew how to work undercover. It was somewhat easy anyway, since Holiday didn’t know what she was talking about. “Can’t say I have. How long have they been talking about it? I usually don’t come down here any time other than Saturday mornings, my laundry day and all.”
“Just this last week. Hmm, maybe it’ll turn out to be nothing. I’ll be going now, need to take care of a couple of things before my wash finishes. Nice to meet you, Holiday. Have a good day.”
She watched as Sheena left, waiting until she heard the steps leave the stairs and go onto the landing, and then she moved over to the washer that was running. Pursing her lips, she lifted the lid, and her brows arched sharply.
The inside of the washer was completely empty.
Holiday managed to go through the motions of finishing the laundry, taking it out of the dryer and folding the loads back into the baskets, and then she headed back upstairs. It was just routine that had he getting back to the apartment door without falling down the stairs or running into a wall, with her thoughts settling on Sheena, the odd happenings, her strange demeanor…and the fact that it seemed she had come to the basement solely to talk to Holiday. Why else would she have started the washer with nothing inside? Sheena needed a rational reason to be in the basement at the same time as her, and she had timed it perfectly, coming in and starting the washer while Holiday had her back to the doorway. Somehow, she doubted that Sheena even lived at the building, and that had Holiday’s pulse racing almost more than the rest of it. It left her unsettled to think that, for whatever reason, there was someone watching her. Someone who knew where she lived, who knew those she was close to.
She opened the door to the apartment and walked in, carrying the laundry back to the bedroom to put it away. Holiday turned from putting away a stack of Rob’s t-shirts to find him standing in the doorway, a concerned look on his face.
“Something wrong, Hols?” he asked, leaning against the frame, and she knew he was watching her carefully. He was just as good at reading people as she was, she knew, and he could read her better than anyone she’d ever known. It wouldn’t do any good to lie to him, she knew, and, thinking about it, she found that she really didn’t want to.
“Just…something that happened downstairs,” she began, sitting on the bed, a pair of socks in her hands. As she recounted meeting the woman, what she said, and what she’d found once Sheena had left, she was twisting and pulling at the socks, watching them dully. Holiday could feel herself trembling slightly with every word she said, and she had to admit that the encounter had shaken her more than she’d thought.
“I know I’ve had my paranoid moments before, Rob, but…I keep thinking about it, and I keep coming to the same conclusion. She knew me before she walked in there. She was there because she knew I was. What else she knows about me, I don’t know, but I don’t think it was a random occurrence. And the things she asked! They make no sense to me at all, which sets me even more on edge. It’s always the crazies, who insist that you know what they’re talking about when you don’t, and are more than ready to pry things out of you the more you resist.” Holiday looked down at her arms, finding them covered in goosebumps. She rubbed her skin swiftly with her hands, trying to warm up, but she couldn’t manage to shake the cold feeling.
“It is weird,” Rob said thoughtfully, one of his hands reaching out to take hers, his thumb brushing reassuringly over her knuckles. “I think you’re right, I don’t think she really lives here – I haven’t seen anyone of that description at all. I’ll ask around and see if anyone else has seen anything strange going on…just because she was lying about living here, doesn’t mean she wasn’t lying about that. When we go in on Monday, we’ll have the sketch artist draw out your description and see if we can’t match it to anyone in the database.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek lightly. “We’re not without options here, Hollie. We’ll take care of it.”
She smiled and leaned in to lay her head on his shoulder, taking comfort in his closeness. She knew she was lucky…if she’d recounted that story to any other person, possibly even Bradford, they might have thought she was drinking again. They'd say that she was seeing things, maybe even just seeking attention. Rob, though, listened. There wasn’t really a shred of proof that she was telling the truth, but he didn’t toss it all out the window. He thought outside the box, not just with her, but in their field work. It was a handy trait to have.
He kissed the top of her head, then stood up and pulled her to stand with him. “Now, come on. There’s not really much we can do right now, so let’s just get dressed and get out of here for a while before we have to go to Brad’s. Alright?”
Holiday nodded and smiled, kissing him once before moving past him to finish putting the laundry away. She dressed quickly in jeans, a thin white shirt with long belled sleeves, and a moss-green sleeveless vest that she circled a wide belt of the same color with a jeweled buckle around. She brushed her hair out and left it loose, then pulled on brown boots that added another couple of inches to her height. Setting the brush down, she eyed herself in the mirror and pursed her lips. Well, at least she didn’t look like a crazy person. Granted, she didn’t feel like a crazy person either, but seeing people who may or may not exist and creating what could be construed as either a conspiracy theory or a plea for attention around it wasn’t exactly par for the course.
“Nothing I can really do about it,” she said quietly. She had already resolved not to say anything to Bradford until they ran the sketch through the database on Monday, to see if she came up with a record. That would determine her course of action from there.
Rob poked his head in the doorway and smiled. “Hey, good-lookin’, you ready?”
Her eyes met his through the mirror and she smiled, thankful that she didn’t have to try and make it look like a real smile, not with him. “Yeah. Just let me get my purse.” She left the room and picked up her purse from the table in the living room, and they left the apartment, Holiday making sure to lock it securely behind her. She always locked the door, but it seemed more important today.
The two of them killed a few hours by walking around the mall downtown and planning out their Christmas shopping. Knowing that Elizabeth liked little trinkets and tended to collect them when she traveled, Holiday bought a figurine of a surfer riding a wave from one of the tourist shops and had it wrapped, then they left the mall and began the drive to La Jolla for dinner. They were quiet, the radio the only sound filling the car, Holiday not wanting to talk and Rob seeming to understand that without asking. The car pulled into the driveway of Bradford’s house, and she looked at Rob before getting out. “I don’t want to say anything to Brad about this before I have something a little more concrete than ‘I saw this woman and she asked me weird things, but no one else has seen her and she doesn’t really appear to exist.’”
Rob glanced at her and lifted a brow. “Brad’s not going to think you’re crazy, Holiday.”
“I’d like to think so too, but the fact remains that I’ve technically got a record that doesn’t exactly speak for me being an entirely rational person.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think Brad would thank you for your lack of faith, but…if that’s what you want, I won’t say anything.”
She nodded and got out of the car, calming herself and putting on a smile before she and Rob headed up the steps and knocked on the door.
There was the usual flurry of movement as the door opened and they were ushered in. Shoes were removed – Bradford’s housekeeper would have their heads if they tracked footprints over her floor – purses and bags were set aside, and the both of them were pulled into tight hugs by a woman smaller than Holiday, but seeming to have more strength than a giant. Lady Elizabeth Stanley, widowed at a young age, was one of those women who enjoyed the lifestyle that being an aristocrat with at least a rudimentary knowledge of numbers in order to turn a profit on any number of ventures brought. She wasn’t as concerned with class as some of her fellow nobles, and had adored her brother’s second wife, the first having died in childbirth when he was considerably younger. Since Ella’s death, Elizabeth had made more frequent visits, both to be there for her younger brother and to spend time with her niece. After a few months, overseeing Holiday’s eventual wedding, never mind that there wasn’t even one in the planning, was added to the list of reasons to make the flight from London to San Diego on a regular basis.
“Holiday, I swear you look younger every time I see you, I don’t know how you do it,” the spry white-haired woman currently squeezing Holiday to pieces said, letting go and leaning back to cast her keen eye over her.
Holiday laughed and shook her head. “Think it must just be your presence, Lady Stanley. The way you move around, I’ve got my work cut out for me just trying to keep up.”
Elizabeth snorted and shook her head. “Every time I see you, you keep up with that ‘Lady’ nonsense. I’ve got your number, girl, you’re just trying to rile me up. It won’t work, I tell you! But be a dear and call me Elizabeth, as I ask you every time I see you.”
Holiday grinned and nodded. “I suppose, Elizabeth. So what are my colors now?” Seeing the woman’s eyes light up, she allowed Elizabeth to take her arm and lead her away, leaving Rob and Bradford to follow behind.
“Is it just me, or does Holiday know just how to handle her, and she just likes pretending like she doesn’t?” Rob asked while they followed.
“She’s got a kind heart and knows what my sister enjoys. For the time being, that’s getting the two of you married. I actually think she’ll be disappointed once that happy day passes – she’ll have to find a new hobby.” Bradford cast his eyes sideways at Rob and smiled. “Not that it’s any reason to hold off.”
Rob shook his head and chuckled. “When we’re ready, Brad. Not a day sooner.”
Brad nodded, and turned the conversation toward the current state of San Diego’s football team. Rob, thankful for the change of subject, readily complied as they entered the dining room, taking their seats.
Holiday was holding Daniella, her eighteen-month-old niece, on her lap, feeding her pieces of bread as she and Elizabeth talked. She winked toward Rob before turning her attention back to the older woman, taking a moment to hand Daniella over when the little girl reached for her boyfriend.
Dinner was uneventful, other than Daniella making her rounds to sit in everyone’s lap at least twice, stealing food off their plates in the meantime. Holiday gave their little gift to Elizabeth, who declared it one of the cutest things she’d ever received, and sat it next to her plate for the remainder of the meal. They had dessert in the living room, slices of rich tiramisu that didn’t quite match the events of Rob and Bradford competing against each other in bowling on Bradford’s Wii.
Daniella went down to sleep for the night, and the four adults spent an hour playing a game of cards before Elizabeth announced that she was too tired to stay up another minute. Rob and Hollie made their goodbyes and left, quiet once again on the way home.
They arrived at home and headed upstairs silently, Holiday unlocking the door and Rob closing it behind him, locking it again. Holiday began to walk back to the bedroom when Rob spoke up.
“Hollie…I know today was weird, and I know you’re feeling a bit paranoid that maybe no one’s going to trust you…but I trust you. I believe you. And I’m going to help you. Just don’t shut me out, alright?”
She turned toward him and smiled softly, walking back across the room. Her arms slid around his shoulders and she kissed his lips lightly. “Thank you. I know…I won’t. Come on, let’s go to bed.”
An hour later, after quietly making love and watching Rob fall asleep, Holiday was staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come to her. Sighing, she turned over on her side, shoving her hand under the pillow and closing her eyes, willing herself to finally go under. Her last thought was that she thought she might end up regretting this.