Page 38

The next morning, after yoga class, Noelle tossed her mat onto the back seat of her vehicle as Eve and Lucia did the same with their mats in Eve’s car.

On Sunday mornings the three of them always met for yoga at a little strip mall and then walked three doors down to a French bakery to have pastries and coffee.

Noelle liked to think the yoga canceled out the treats but suspected, since she usually indulged in the almond croissant, she’d probably need two more yoga sessions—or more—to cancel out the calories.

Her sisters joined her, and they set out toward the bakery.

Lucia pressed on her stomach. “I hate abdominal day. The next day is always miserable.”

“I like the pain,” said Eve, and received a glare from her younger sister. “It feels like I accomplished something.”

Noelle had covertly watched Lucia during the class. The thin woman always struggled with strength moves, and she’d been unable to do several of the ab exercises.

But she’s a lot stronger than she used to be.

Inside the bakery, Noelle ordered the almond croissant and black coffee. She sighed as she sat, feeling a twinge in her obliques and knowing she’d hurt tomorrow.

“How did yesterday’s FBI interview go, Lucia?” she asked as she blew on her coffee.

“It was okay. They were nice enough, but I always feel like no one believes what I tell them.” Lucia sank a fork into her fruit tart.

“It’s the intimidation factor,” said Eve, touching her sister’s shoulder in sympathy. “Two federal agents staring at you over a table and asking questions. Everyone feels nervous.”

“Daisy didn’t. She was eager to talk to them.”

“Daisy is unique.”

“She made me leave the room during her interview,” said Lucia with a sigh. “So I have no idea what sort of stories she told them.”

“She doesn’t lie,” said Noelle.

“I meant stories ,” said Lucia. “You know ... where she goes into great detail about some random event.”

Noelle grinned, wondering how the agents had enjoyed her colorful aunt.

Lucia proceeded to cut her tart into several pieces and push them around on her plate.

Eve exchanged a glance with Noelle. Eating was difficult for Lucia when something stressed or distracted her, and she was too thin to miss more than a few meals. Eve and Noelle had kept an eye on her food intake since she was a teenager.

She’s thirty-one.

It was hard to step out of the role.

“What’s up, Lucia?” Eve asked. “Too much ab work upset your stomach?”

Lucia abruptly laid down her fork; she hated being monitored. “No. Those agents yesterday brought up a lot of old shit.”

“Tell me about it,” muttered Noelle. Suddenly cranky, she bit into her croissant and was instantly mollified by the buttery, warm, sweet gooeyness. Unlike with Lucia, food brought Noelle comfort.

“I hate that Derrick’s death continues to hang over our family’s head,” said Lucia. “My brain gets tired thinking about it.”

“I’m sorry,” said Noelle.

“Not your fault,” said Lucia. She forked some tart into her mouth, clearly not wanting to but trying to please her sisters. “Seems like we can’t move on.”

“I moved on,” said Noelle. “That sounds horrible, but I can’t pause my life because his murderer hasn’t been found.”

Lucia met her gaze. “Every time I think about it, I worry about you.”

Translation: she still feared that someone would come after Noelle.

How do I help her move past that?

Lucia’s fear had been an issue for a long time. She no longer cried or had nightmares that Noelle had been killed, but occasionally something would pop up that made her obsess about how to protect her older sister.

Noelle understood. She’d lived in fear for a long time too. Joining the police force had empowered her.

That was not a solution for Lucia.

“Worrying about me won’t change anything,” Noelle said to Lucia.

“Whatever happened with Derrick didn’t follow me to Oregon.

His murder was an isolated incident. And if there’s a killer out there concerned that I’m getting my memory back and might identify him, it’s been thirteen years.

I don’t think it’ll ever return.” She looked hard into Lucia’s gaze.

“So lucky for him. Eat,” ordered Noelle, pointing at Lucia’s tart.

“It’s a gorgeous day. We survived the ab workout, and we’ve got Paris-worthy pastries in front of us.

I don’t want to think about something that happened thirteen years ago. ”

Lucia gave a weak smile and took another bite.

“When do you talk to the FBI?” Noelle asked Eve.

“Adam and I are both scheduled for tomorrow evening,” Eve said reluctantly. “Not looking forward to it.”

“It’ll go fine,” said Noelle. “They’re professional and polite.”

Inviting me for a motorcycle ride wasn’t professional.

For the briefest of seconds, she’d been tempted to hop on the motorcycle yesterday.

It’d been a long time since she acted on an impulse, but the thought had vanished as quickly as it’d appeared.

Logic prevailed. Agent Rhodes was dressed in safety gear for the ride and Noelle had none. Plus Daisy was waiting.

But the curiosity had lingered. Later that night she’d watched some women riders on YouTube, wondering if Rhodes had been exaggerating about what it was like to ride.

The stunning scenery had impressed her. Mountains.

Cliffs. Rivers. Beaches. According to the women, Rhodes had told her the truth about the joy.

If Eve’s interview was Monday, then it was possible the FBI team would leave on Tuesday. By then they would have spoken to everyone attached to the case.

The motorcycle ride wasn’t going to happen.

She had a small pang of regret, feeling as if she’d been tempted by something she’d never get to experience.

The women finished their pastries, and Eve and Noelle chatted for another minute while Lucia used the bathroom.

She returned, and the three of them headed out the door.

Eve and Lucia were making plans to grocery shop, and Noelle had more work to do on the hit-and-run case that the FBI had interrupted.

She had just stepped into the parking lot when a giant blast of air knocked her on her back, instantly smashing the air from her lungs.

A thunderous roar slammed into her head, and she felt as if she’d been punched in the face.

Eve! Lucia!

Noelle clamped her hands over her ears and rolled to her side, attempting to pull oxygen back into her lungs.

She forced her eyes open to find her sisters and they instantly watered as they were socked with a dust cloud.

A few feet away Eve was pushing up to her knees, her mouth open as she stared across the lot.

Noelle followed her gaze and terror rocked her.

My car!

Flames poured out of her vehicle’s broken windows as clouds of black smoke billowed toward the sky.

Noelle shoved up to all fours and spotted Lucia sitting against the bakery’s door, her legs splayed in front of her, shock on her face.

Thank God.

“ Are you okay? ” she shouted at Lucia as she scrambled to help Eve stand.

Her sister’s arm shook under Noelle’s hands.

Lucia blinked and nodded. She clumsily crawled to one side as the bakery’s glass door shoved against her back from customers trying to get out.

The first woman through the door crouched beside Lucia, questioning her, concern on her face.

Noelle helped Eve to Lucia, and they collapsed on the sidewalk by their younger sister.

“Are you hurt?” Noelle ran her hands over Eve’s shoulders. Eve couldn’t speak and simply shook her head.

We’re all okay.

Her ears ringing loudly, Noelle looked back at her burning vehicle.

If we hadn’t waited for Lucia to use the bathroom, I’d be dead.

Cars don’t randomly explode.

Who did this?