Page 6 of A Way Out
“When is she due back?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Her sister.”
Holly had two sisters, one in Washington state and one in New York City. Given her wedding was next weekend in Missouri, it was odd that one of them was now at the door of her home in LA. Unless…
“Were you supposed to fly out with them?” It still didn’t make a whole lot of sense, though. Why fly here and then to Missouri? Well, maybe it sort of, kind of could make sense for the one living in Washington.
“Fly out with them? What are you talking about—oh crap. The wedding.” He could practically envision the woman, slapping her palm to her forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot.”
“They haven’t been gone long,” he said helpfully. “Maybe you can still catch your flight.”
“That’s not what I forgot. I forgot about the wedding. I thought she’d be here. I don’t know what to do now.”
She sounded despondent, and Oz was a sucker for a helpless woman, apparently. “I’m going to open the gate. Why don’t you drive up so we can speak in person?”
“I assume you’re safe since you’re at their house when they’re not.”
He chuckled. “I’m the house sitter. Totally safe.”
He watched a Cadillac XT6, sport model, in a shade somewhere between gray and black, roll into view.
Nice ride.
Holly wasn’t exactly chatty about her life before forming Panic Station, but gossip and rumors filtered through bands like they were a bunch of middle schoolers, so he knew she’d come from money but had been disowned when she came to LA and formed her band.
This sister, he guessed, had not been disowned. Unless she was like Holly and had made her own fortune.
The vehicle rolled to a stop in front of the steps The tinted window rolled down, and Oz got his first glimpse of the woman driving this fine ass car.
She didn’t look very tall, although it was admittedly hard to judge, as she was seated. She was pretty, with smooth dark hair, understated makeup, and a strand of what he’d bet were real pearls around her neck.
She looked like old money.
Oz strode down the steps and started to lean on the open window, but he caught her flinch. He froze. Unbidden and yet unsurprising, he thought of his sister and the psychopath she’d married. If only any of them had realized that before the guy killed Raquel.
Oz lifted his hands, palms facing out, and said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her tawny eyes widened.
“I’m Oz. Oz Garcia.” He gave a little wave and offered up an encouraging smile. “I’m a friend of Holly and Sam’s. Taking care of the house while they get married and go on their honeymoon.” Sort of. That he was leaving in a few days to actually go to the wedding seemed way too complicated to explain at the moment.
“Close enough to watch the house but not close enough to attend the wedding?”
“Actually, I was invited to the wedding,” he retorted.
She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m so sorry. That was rude. I’m not having the greatest of days. Or weeks, for that matter.”
“Damn. It’s only Sunday afternoon.”
“Exactly.”
Those protective instincts kicked up again. “Do you need help? A place to stay?”
Her laugh was mirthless. “All of the above and then some. God, I should have called first.” She rubbed at her forehead. “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to leave. I didn’t plan like I normally do. I’ve been driving for two days, and I am completely fried.”
“Do you have a name?”
