Tied Bond (Holly Woods Files, #4) Read Online Free PDF Page A

surgeries, the usual...
    “Ahh,” I say. “I assume this particular account isn’t a family one, unless Rita Warren is his A: wife, B: sister, or C: boss. And I’m guessing his wife or boss wouldn’t need a hotel booking for the very same night.”
    God bless Google and their syncing with e-mail booking confirmations.
    “You assume correctly. Rita Warren is an ex-model once on the cover of Playboy. She’s now an attorney who specializes in medical negligence.”
    One would think their dating is a conflict of interests, but okay.
    “She works out of an office in Phoenix and is flying in while Dr. Santiago’s wife is in Mexico for her father’s funeral. The good doctor ‘tried’ to get time off but couldn’t.” Carlton links his fingers and stretches his arms out in front of him.
    I wince when his knuckles crack. “Do you have to do that?”
    “Sorry. Achy fingers from all of my sleuthing.”
    “Ah, yes. You’re a regular old Sherlock.”
    “True story. Took longer to change the ink in my printer than it did to find this.” He walks backwards with a smug smirk.
    “Good. I don’t pay you to change printer ink. I pay you to borrow information. But my ink does need changing, if you have a minute.” I smile sweetly.
    He rolls his eyes. “I’ll do it before I leave.”
    “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite employee?”
    “Every time I get you information that means you don’t have to offer up babysitting for police files.”
    “And I love you for it.” My smile widens.
    Carlton shakes his head as he disappears down the hall to his office. Or his geek space, as I call it. The walls have recently been plastered with superhero posters and some equations I get headaches from just looking at.
    I also recently learned he’s a genius, so one day, the NSA thing might not be so crazy. He could probably hack half the country in the time it takes me to get out of bed in the morning.
    I pick my phone up and dial Grecia’s extension.
    “What’s up?” she answers after one ring.
    “Your name is Rita Warren and you have a dinner date at the Hilton downtown with Lucas Santiago tomorrow night at seven. He told you he’d booked a room for after, but he’s working all night and you’re flying in from Arizona and want to make sure the arrangements are correct.”
    “Got it.”
    The call clicks off.
    I sigh happily as I put my phone back in the holder.
    I love it when my marks are idiots. It makes my job so much easier.
     

     
    My mother has to be kidding.
    I know she is. There’s no way this costume is real.
    Alison winces as I take it from the bag. Well, what there is of it—and that isn’t much. A short, sequined dress and—oh sweet God. Leather thigh-high boots.
    “Well, it is a costume?” Alison offers lamely.
    “Mom, what’s that?” Aria, now eleven, wrinkles her nose at the garish, gold dress.
    “It’s...” She pauses, clearly lost for words.
    “Oh no. No. No. She didn’t.” I drop the dress on the coffee table and, after throwing the boots on the floor, reach back into the bag.
    She did. She so did. Oh my God.
    “Oh no,” Alison whispers.
    The cheapy material crinkles beneath my tight grip as I pull the pinstriped jacket out of the plastic bag. Horror floods my body as the full realization about what this is sinks in.Every year, my mother is the resident Bond costume picker for the Halloween party. Usually, she gets it pretty good—and I usually have a get-out-of-jail-free card for the old couples’ costume.
    This year, apparently, I don’t have such a card. Or costume bail money.
    And, now, I’m wondering how the hell she managed to get this past Drake. Or if he even knows.
    “Aria, where’s Sil?” Alison directs to her daughter.
    “In the backyard. Looking for bugs.” She shrugs. “Aunt Noelle, what is t hat? It doesn’t look like a costume.”
    “Bottom cupboard next to the sink. There are two doughnuts in there,” I fire off, dropping the jacket like it’s