She leaned back and smiled. “So, you did read it.”
“I plead the fifth.”
Jag took his cell and his beer and headed to the front porch. He glanced over his shoulder at Callie, who had her headphones on and her face only a few inches from her laptop screen.
“Hey, sis.” He sat in his favorite chair, resting his legs on the coffee table as he watched the sky grow dark.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Ziggy’s voice screeched in his ear.
He adjusted the volume on his AirPods. “You don’t have to yell.”
“Oh, someone does. I can’t believe you are having her move in with you, and you didn’t even have the decency to call me to tell me she was back.”
“She’s not living with me. I’m letting her stay in my guest room for a bit.” He chuckled. Ziggy had a flare for the dramatic and tended to overreact.
Hell, that had been a problem for most of his family, including him, though he always told himself he acted and never reacted, but as he approached his mid-thirties, he could see the error of his ways. What he thought was taking action often never gave his mind a chance to process important information that would later come back and bite him in the ass.
Like waiting until he got the phone call from Levi that the judge signed off on all arrest and search warrants before executing them, and he only needed that because they didn’t have probable cause. He had no reason to pick Adam up. Everything had been on a hunch until the DNA came back.
He blinked, pushing all those thoughts from his brain.
“Why is she back anyway?” Ziggy asked.
“To finish her book.”
“I can’t believe she’s using that title. It makes you look bad,” Ziggy said with a huff.
Of everyone in his family, Ziggy had taken the news of his relationship with Callie better than most. Ziggy worked for the same station as a producer. They butted heads a lot, but mostly because they had similar personalities, yet they were also friends.
However, they both had one fatal flaw. Neither one of them knew how to let things go.
“The book isn’t as bad as I thought, as long as she can get the publisher to change the title. It appears that’s more of a marketing ploy than anything else.”
“Are you saying she no longer blames you? Because I know deep down she never meant those things she said. She couldn’t have. She loves you.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to believe that Callie didn’t blame him for Stephanie’s death, but she did hold him responsible for mistakes.
And for not listening to her.
And she wouldn’t be wrong for doing so. “If she loved me, she wouldn’t have tossed my engagement ring at my head on live television and all but call me a murderer.”
“She was grieving.”
This argument was getting old, and he needed to stop entertaining the dialogue. “You didn’t call me to discuss my living arrangement with Callie.”
“That was part of it. How is she?”
That caught a hardy laugh. “Seriously? You can’t burn that candle at both ends. When she left, you told me your friendship was over.”
“I was mad and hurt. I’m over it,” Ziggy said. “Is she still totally obsessed?”
“Pretty much,” he admitted. “But in a different way. Once Stephanie was murdered, this became personal. There is a sadness about her that wasn’t there before.”
“It’s only been a year. Grief is a tricky thing,” Ziggy said. “And now on to the other reason I called. I wanted to warn you that our newest greedy little up-and-coming reporter is going to be coming out there tomorrow morning to get an interview from you and Callie.”
Why was he surprised. He took a double swig of his beer. The bubbles tickled his nose. “I thought Callie was bad, but Bailey would toss her mother under the bus for a story.”
“Thank God I’m not her producer,” Ziggy said. “Now do me a favor and don’t let anything happen to Callie.”
His boots hit the wood floor. “Why did you just say that?” There had been no news crew. No reporters. No one knew he’d called CSI. Hell, the few things that happened out on Whidbey were never worth the evening news. But anytime his sister got cryptic, it usually meant there was buzz around her work water cooler.
And that was never good for him.
“Bailey got a tip that Callie is staying at the Saratoga Inn and that her room was broken into and that you called for extra help from the mainland.”
Well, that wasn’t what happened. He began making a mental note of everyone he’d seen at the inn. He’d need to get a guest list, and he’d need to make sure that Ronnie, the owner, didn’t say anything to the press. “I can’t comment.”
“I don’t expect you to,” Ziggy said. “I do know that Bailey plans on starting with Callie.”
“How does she expect to find her since she’s no longer at the inn?”
“Funny you should ask,” Ziggy said. “Her anonymous source said to try your place.”
“Fucking wonderful,” he mumbled. “Thanks for the warning.”
“You’re welcome. Watch your back.”
“Love you, Ziggy.”
“Love you, too brother.”
He tapped his AirPods and pulled them from his ears.
“Want another beer?” Callie eased into the chair next to him, handing him a longneck.
“Fuck, you scared me,” he said, taking the cold beverage. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know that Ziggy is still the best, and Bailey is still a little bitch who got her wish since she’s now in my job.”
He raised his beer and clanked it against the one in Callie’s hand. “She’s not half as good as you were.”
She chuckled. “Since when do you toss around compliments like they are candy.”
He shrugged.
“Any news from the lab?” she asked.
“Too
