Page 51 of Control

FIFTEEN

Ty

If I hadn’t noticed the excitement in the air the second I sat down behind the wheel of my car, I would have gotten a clue about it the moment I shut the door.

Because two hands wrapped around my bicep, squeezing. Alana was holding on to me, doing it while leaning in my direction with her gaze focused out the front windshield. There was an enthusiastic hum coming from her, like she was attempting to control what she was feeling and unsure she was going to keep it contained.

I watched her, feeling slightly amused, and the only thought that ran through my mind was that I wished it wasn’t so cold outside. If it’d been spring or summer, I’d likely just be wearing a T-shirt and could have felt Alana’s fingertips directly on my skin.

Although I had been paying attention to what was happening in the café, I found myself a bit distracted. It started right around the time I worked up the courage to place my hand on Alana’s thigh.

Of course, it had just been instinct—the result of hearing what I thought was our first real piece of information that deserved a bit more scrutiny. I had wanted Alana to know that the information was important and worth diving deeper into, and I simply reacted.

But I liked the way it felt to have my hand on her thigh, wishing for the first time today that it had been summer. Maybe then, Alana would have been wearing a pair of shorts or a dress. I could have had my hands on her bare leg.

My ability to focus on the discussion the three women were having diminished further when Alana sought out my hand. I had been paying enough attention to know that reaction was merely her needing some comfort after learning what she had.

But it still didn’t stop me from feeling immense gratitude for the opportunity to hold her hand in mine and recognizing just how much I liked the way it fit with mine. It then became a struggle to concentrate on the conversation. Instead, I found myself pulled to consistently stealing glances at Alana, discovering new things about her that I liked—everything from the sound of her voice and the ease with which she conversed to the scent of her perfume and the way she crinkled her nose whenever she was thinking hard about something.

Now, she was doing it again. She was seeking me out in response to what she was feeling, and the lightness it created in my chest was unmatched.

I dared to take my eyes off her and followed her gaze. Bethany and Clover had each gotten into their own vehicles and were pulling out of their parking spots. Alana’s grip tightened on my arm.

The moment both cars had left the lot, my eyes met Alana’s. Hers were wide, slightly frantic, and she squealed, “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Can you believe that? I… I can’t even begin to process everything they just told us.”

Fortunately, regardless of the level of distraction I’d felt inside the café, I had absorbed the most important details. Alana’s reaction to it now was completely understandable.

“I think this was easily the best interview you’ve had throughout these last couple of weeks,” I told her.

She smiled, nodding her head furiously. “I know. I know. It’s so great, even as heartbreaking as it is.” Releasing her hold on my arm, she dug into her purse, pulled out her notepad, and said, “I don’t want to forget any of this. We need to make a list.”

I wanted her hands back. “A list?”

“Of names. Potential suspects. Ty, I can’t tell you how badly my heart was breaking in there. I hate to say this, but I’m getting the distinct feeling that Annie Sanders was murdered by somebody close to her.”

“It’s certainly starting to feel that way,” I admitted. “Who are you thinking is the most plausible at this point?”

Alana’s eyes roamed over my face, and I told myself it was because she wanted to memorize every part of my face. But I knew that wasn’t truly the case. She’d been working so hard on this story, and she finally felt like she’d gotten a break in it, so she was attempting to process it all.

“I don’t know. I think there are arguments that could be made for several people in the mix. There’s the obvious one of the ex-boyfriend. That timing is wildly suspicious. He came back here four to six weeks before Annie was murdered,” she reminded me.

“And he had a motive, since she was rejecting him,” I added.

“How horrible would that be? The man everyone thought she was going to marry ends up being the one who killed her because she wanted babies, and he refused to have them. Oh, the mere thought of it breaks my heart for her.”

“We need to dig in and find out more about him,” I urged her. “And I’m thinking the brother deserves a second look, especially after what Clover and Bethany shared today.”

“Yes. Clearly, he had a motive, too. But again, how horrible that her brother could be responsible for her death over money? It’s just so tragic.”

“The worst thing about it is that a man like him has resources. We don’t know anything about this guy, Mark, but Reed Sanders has access to money. And even if it seems like he’s a tightwad who only cares about money, he might have been willing to part with some cash now if he thought it could secure a bigger fortune for him down the road.”

Alana thought about it for a moment, no question her wheels were spinning. As though some crazy thought had just popped into her head, her eyes widened, and I was certain she’d stopped breathing.

“What is it?”

“What if her mom is involved?”

“You think?”

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