Page 30 of Unbound

“No, you’re not, and yes, you are.” I move away from her, because for some reason I almost reached up to push a loose strand of hair away from her face. “But I’m not going to hold that against you.”

Sybil turns, eyes wide as they follow me back to my desk. “You’re not?”

“No.” I push the chair where I waited for her beneath the desk. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing if I thought it might bring me some closure after all this time.” Taking a deep breath, I meet her gaze as I serve up a dose of disappointment. “Unfortunately, you’re not going to find what you’re looking for in here.”

Sybil seems to deflate a little. “Oh.” She pulls in a deep breath, seeming to recover from her disappointment faster than I expected. “That’s okay. I knew coming here might be another dead end.” She slaps on a wobbly smile. “I guess I get to keep looking.”

“I didn’t say I don’t have anything that will help you.” I move toward her again, drawn close by the need to reassure her that coming to Willow Bend wasn’t pointless. “I just said it’s not in here.”

Sharing what I know about the day my mother died with Sybil is a risk. I know Heidi believes she’s not a threat, and on some levels, I agree with that assessment.

On others, I’m starting to worry Sybil could bring everything I know crashing down around me.

Sybil’s lips part on the softest of gasps. “Where is it?”

“A few different places.” I managed to resist touching her earlier, but this time it’s necessary. A requirement to get her where I need her to go. At least that’s what I tell myself as I rest one hand on her lower back, urging the woman who could upend my entire life out of my office and past the kitchen. “I have some digital information Ruth, Toby, and I collected from the cold case archives. I also have everything from the house we were living in when she died.”

Sybil’s head snaps my way, her body inching closer until she’s nearly pressed against my side. “You’re kidding.”

I shake my head. “I could never get rid of any of it. I know I should have, but just considering it felt like losing her all over again.”

We reach the great room, and I lead Sybil to the large sectional I sit on every night as I wait out the hours until bedtime. Urging her to sit down, I take the seat next to her, switching on the television before grabbing the remote that controls the blinds covering the windows overlooking the mountains in the distance.

Sybil tucks both feet under her, scooting closer to me as I lower the window coverings into place. “Would you be willing to let me see some of it?”

I hesitate, wondering if I should admit the truth or keep it close and pretend like it doesn’t matter.

But I’m starting to think everything matters, whether I like it or not.

So I turn to Sybil, this time unable to stop myself from catching the loose blonde hair and curling it behind her ear. “You’ve already seen some of it. The furniture in your room was hers.”

10

Sybil

Iliterally feel my jaw drop open. Not only in surprise, but also in shock. I’m surprised to discover I’ve already seen some of his mother’s belongings. I’m shocked to learn he allowed me to be so close to them even before Heidi assured him of my innocence.

Managing to clamp my mouth shut, I scramble for words to explain how I’m feeling. My brain races, weaving between all the options as I attempt to decide which ones will be easiest for him to digest. Do I thank him for trusting me with something so valuable to him? Or should I tell Walker how beautiful and comfortable I found the room from the second I walked in?

Ultimately, I can’t do either one, because his admission has my throat so tight I can’t speak. So I do the only thing I can think of.

I lunge at him, wrapping both arms around his neck and squeezing tight. It’s an offer of thanks. Appreciation. Understanding.

It’s also a very awkward angle. One I can’t maintain for more than a couple seconds before I tip to the side, unable to find any sort of leverage on the plush cushions of his exceptionally soft couch. Before I know it, I’m no longer hugging Walker—I’m in his lap.

I’ve been in worse places, but I’m fairly confident he doesn’t appreciate having the woman who keeps digging into his private life—and probably brought a murderous gunman to the parking lot of his business—cuddled up to his chest.

I give him what I hope is an apologetic smile, even though I don’t feel super bad about the situation. It’s way too nice being surrounded by his warmth and his scent for me to genuinely have any sort of regret.

“Sorry. I lost my balance.”

Walker gives me a smirk. “Is that what you’re calling that?”

“Technically, this is probably your fault.” I press my feet into the cushion, attempting to lift myself up high enough I can crabwalk off his thick thighs. “If you didn’t have a couch made of quicksand, I would’ve been more than capable of staying upright.”

Crab walking turns out to be a no-go. Hoping to salvage some of my dignity, I do my best to scoot. Bad choice. My leggings don’t slide so well against the fabric of his jeans, and what ends up happening is a little scandalous.

Okay, a lot scandalous.