Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“So maybe the dead body is Emilio?” Yvette asked. “But who would have killed him?”
“Should we ask the 8-ball?” Tia leaned forward and grabbed the bedazzled pink 8-ball that sat on the coffee table. This was her game for the night. Whenever someone had a question, we’d ask the 8-ball what it thought. Except each answer had a certain number of drinks attached to it, so asking a question could end up getting you blasted.
She handed the 8-ball to Yvette, who shook it after asking her question again and read the answer out loud. “Keep on searching. And drinking. Take three chugs.” Yvette set the ball down on the table and grabbed her cup of vodka cranberry. “Great, I got nothing.”
“Except a buzz,” Tristan pointed out cheerily.
“I want to ask it something,” Jake said, moving his arm from off Noah’s shoulders and grabbing the ball. “Was it Emilio who killed someone?”
That got a nod from me. “Maybe that’s why he wasn’t there in the beginning, because he took off.”
“The ball says… It’s a possibility, but taking a drink is a certainty.” He lifted his glass of champagne and cheered, drinking along with Noah, who grabbed his glass in solidarity. I noticed that they often mirrored one another, whether they realized it or not, even in how they sat, with their legs crossed at the ankles and their bodies leaning toward one another. Even in their body language, the two proved that they were a perfect match.
It was nice to see, but it did make me wonder if I’d ever feel that same connection with someone else.
“Damn, this family is a mess,” Tristan said.
Colton gave a huff and leaned back on his seat, stretching his arms over his head. “Sounds like my family.”
“It can’t be all that bad,” Yvette said.
“Eric and I are leaving in a couple of days to go investigate them for the murder of my mother, who left an inheritance that none of us have yet to even see.”
Yvette pursed her lips. “Oh. Oh shit, yeah, okay.”
Colton laughed, which cracked any ice that may have formed. “But that’s what a family is, huh? A messy group of people who love and hate each other through all the different bullshit phases of life.”
“You know,” Tristan said, setting his book aside and leaning forward, “this little family right here was pretty effective in solving Noah’s stalker case last year. Would you maybe consider using the rest of tonight to brainstorm some possibilities? Maybe we can help you guys see something new with what you already have.”
Colton’s eyebrows rose. He looked around the group, his sapphire-blue orbs seeming to suck me in like a pair of black holes, their gravitational pull impossible to resist. Did Tristan just cross a line? Was Colton ready to open up to a group of people he’d just met? Sure, I was comfortable around the crew, but that was because we were all family at this point. Colton was brand-new, and it wasn’t like his situation was an easy one to talk about.
I decided to cut in. We could discuss this some other time. “Maybe we—”
“Yeah, I actually think that’s a great idea,” Colton said, his big lips curling into a smile.
I should have asked the 8-ball how it saw the night ending. Maybe then I would have called it a night; maybe it would have given me a warning.
Instead, I went on with the night blind to the train that was barreling its way down the tracks in my direction.
12
COLTON COOPER
Eric wasn’t lying when he told me that his book club read good books and drank lots of drinks. I was tipsy nearly five minutes into the meeting and totally drunk by the end of it. It was such a great time. And I had been shocked—even in my drunken state—when they suggested setting the book down and focusing on my issue instead. I was going to tell them not to worry about it—I didn’t want to bother any of them with my drama—but I changed my mind and instead decided to welcome their help.
The more, the merrier. Maybe one of the book club crew could spot something that Eric or I had missed. Plus, they seemed more than eager to help.
“Maybe your mom had some enemies you don’t know about?” Tristan suggested as I wrapped up the summary of what happened.
“Maybe,” I said, nodding. “But I doubt it. Everyone loved my mom. She was one of the few rich people that didn’t step on everyone’s head on her way up the ladder. Always taught us to lead with grace and kindness, so I don’t think someone did this because they didn’t like her.”
“Fair enough,” Tristan said.
Tia leaned forward, grabbing her drink and speaking around her straw. “Yeah, it sounds like there’s more to this.”
“And no one knows what was in the will yet?” Jake asked.