Page 28 of The Woman in the Hollow
“I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it. But on that note, I should probably get back to it.”
“Okay. Right. Of course.”
Did I worry she might have more questions when the fog of fear and shock fully cleared up?
Sure.
But I could deal with that when we got there.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”
She wasn’t overly convincing. But I couldn’t exactly stay all night either. My phone had been blowing up in my pocket since I’d finished cleaning her up.
“Thanks, Dante. Really.”
“It’s nothing,” I assured her, reaching out to touch her cheek and pretending not to notice how she leaned into the touch ever so slightly.
That was a complication I really didn’t need. Things were fucked up enough as it was. It would be easier to keep her out of it if I kept her at a distance.
I said my goodbyes and texted one of my soldiers to give me a ride back to the garden center.
As soon as he dropped me off, though, I knew something had gone sideways.
Not only was our boss, Luca, there. But so were all my brothers. And cousins. Every capo of the Grassi Family was standing in a semicircle with serious looks on their faces.
“What is it?” I asked when I made my way up to them.
“Whois it is what you want to be asking,” Domenico said.
“Come on,” Luca said, handing me a flashlight. “We have to show you the body.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hazel
Sleep didn’t come easily. In fact, it only came on the tails of some melatonin after several hours of trying to knock out, which ended with me bolting upright in panic.
I woke up feeling sluggish and distracted, burning my eggs and letting my coffee go cold twice before I finally just chugged it lukewarm and hoped for a little boost.
The day after I’d found the body, the garden center had (for obvious reasons) been closed.
But things were up and running again, and I needed to be as bright-eyed and ready to go as possible. There were two class trips. Then it was the all-important Grassi family night.
No matter what I was going through emotionally, I had to keep it in check and be professional.
Though, oddly, my emotions were okay. It was more my mind that was reeling.
Because I’d been almost compulsively checking the news stations for any mention of the murder. And there was nothing. Not a whisper.
Surely, amurderwas big news in a relatively small area like Navesink Bank. It wasn’t like this was some sprawlingmetropolis of millions of people where murders could happen and be all but forgotten.
It should have been primetime and front-page news.
But there was nothing.
I slammed my laptop shut, feeling the swirling sensation in my stomach that no amount of antacids could ease.
