“This is my something.” I suck the remaining gooeyness from my hand before I pull the photos out again and drop them onto the desk.

Both the guys reach for them and grab at them. Their expressions turn identical as they realize what they’re looking at.

It’s a funny kind of look. Somewhere between surprise, shock, confusion, and, finally, realization.

“Explain,” Drake demands.

“These were delivered to me yesterday. I didn’t open them because Bek took me to the hospital.” I hesitate. “So I opened them this morning because my sticky notes weren’t helping. I only opened it because it was handwritten and didn’t look like a bill.” I shrug.

“You’re never gonna use five words where you can fit fifty in, are you?” he asks me wryly.

“You’re always gonna interrupt me when you could stay quiet, aren’t you?” I counter. “Thought so. Now, hush a minute.” I show them the letter. “This came with them.”

Trent reads it then hands it to Drake with a smidgen of cherry juice on the side of it.

I mean, seriously. He’s not two.

“What does this mean?” he asks me. “Do you have any idea who sent them?”

I chew the mouthful of cake I’ve bitten off and shake my head in the negative. “But,” I mumble quickly, swallowing my food before I choke on it. “I have a suspicion.”

“Well?” Drake asks. “Are you gonna share that with us or are we gonna get an explanation on how you came to the conclusion before you tell us who?”

“Hey! There’s a method to my madness. And this is the something y’all didn’t think existed.” I sniff. “I think it was Alyssa.”

“McDougall? The mayor’s wife? Why would she do this?” He holds the picture of Natalie cuffed to the cross up. “Have you even thought about that?”

“She knew!” I stand up to stop myself from rolling my eyes. With my hands on my hips, I continue. “When she kicked you out of our talk, she admitted to me that she knows about every single one of the mayor’s trysts after they happen. She was too afraid to leave him. We already know he’s been paying people off for years. There’s just never been any tangible proof. What would he have done to her?”

“So...”

“So I told her that, if she ever needed help, she could contact me. I think his and Natalie’s was the one affair he never told her about, but she found out, and this was her way of documenting evidence against him.”

“Okay, so just pictures?”

“No. I think there’s a video. Or videos. But to find out, I need to talk to her when the mayor isn’t around.”

“He’s out of town this weekend,” Trent supplies. “I heard Sheriff telling Dad that the mayor was taking a few days off to distance himself from these murders. He apparently hired Jessica and has thrown everything onto her shoulders.”

Good. I hope it crushes her. “Well, then. We’re going to see Alyssa McDougall.”

“Right now?” Trent asks, looking at his pie.

Drake has the same solemn look on his face as he glances at his cupcake.

And everyone says that I’m the one with the dessert problem.

“Bring them and eat them while I talk to her.” I stand up. “Come on.”

I climb out of the backseat of Drake’s truck. Apparently, he decided that it wouldn’t be great if a police car was seen outside of the mayor’s house. My suggestion that his truck was just as obvious was met with a stony silence, so I held my hands up and took my relegated seat in the back.

There’s only one thing a backseat should be used for aside from children, and since I am neither a child nor coming down from an orgasm, I’m not happy about the seating arrangements.

Should have driven myself and left them in the station with their treats.

I ring the bell of the McDougall family mansion. A maid opens the door and lets me in. Then she leads me to the very same room I spoke to Alyssa in last time I was here.

“Mrs. McDougall? Noelle Bond is here to see you, ma’am.”

Alyssa turns, and if she’s surprised, her face doesn’t show it. “Thank you. Noelle, please come in.”

I do as she said, holding tight onto the straps of my purse.

She waits until the door has closed before she speaks. “I wondered how long it would take you to figure it out.”

“I opened your letter this morning,” I reply. “Why did you send them?”

“Your brother was shot while you were looking for them,” she replies simply. “I’m very sorry about that, by the way. I hope it’s not serious.”

I shake my head. “He was very lucky. How did you know we were at Natalie’s house looking for them?”

“I am in...contact...with Nick Lucas.”

Huh. “What kind of contact?”

“That’s a very personal question, Noelle.” She turns to face me, pushing her hair from her face. “It’s nothing intimate. Let’s say that the both of us stand to gain from my husband’s fall as the sweetheart of the Holly Woods council.”

“Are you saying that you and Nick are involved in Natalie’s and Vince’s deaths?”

She laughs. “God, no. What would I gain from killing them and exposing my husband? Besides, Vince is the one who made the footage. Natalie knew they existed, but she insisted that their relationship be kept secret from me. And, well, my husband isn’t the only one who knows how exploit people’s weaknessess.” She leans against the fireplace and clasps her hands in front of her. “Vince’s business was failing. I told him that, if he gave me the information and continued to document their activities, I’d be a silent partner in his business and supply the necessary funds to keep him afloat.”

“And he agreed.”

“Of course he agreed. He knew Natalie could no more exploit my husband than she could abort his baby.”

Ah. So she knew.

“Vince told me everything. He knew that his position was stronger if he worked with me.”

“So it was all about money.”

“Darling, everything is about money.” She moves to the bar and opens the gin bottle. “I can’t divorce Randy without proof. He’s paid too much money to too many people to cover his own back. His biggest fear is that I would leave him and his integrity as a wholesome family man would be called into doubt.”

“And the images are the proof you need to get the settlement you deserve.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” She smirks. “This marriage is oppressive. I’ve lived miserably for years, keeping my nose clean, all while he’s been out dilly-dallying around with whoever he likes.”

“And this weekend? Is that where he is?”

“Ah, I assume so. I do happen to be aware that his darling new campaign manager flew to Dallas this morning where he’s supposed to be.” She knocks the gin back. “So the natural progression there is that he’ll raise her wages if he can screw her, too.”

“Boy, I sure hope you don’t mean the darling part,” I mutter.

“About as much as my husband meant his wedding vows,” she snorts. “Jessica Shearer is one of the biggest bitches I’ve ever met. She’s spent the last few days with her nose so far up Randy’s backside she can smell last week’s dinner. I, for one, cannot stand her.

High five, sister. “So these pictures,” I say, bringing the conversation back around. “What are you doing with them? And the tapes? Are they there for silent bribery in the hope that you can end things reasonably amicably?”

“That was the plan.” She shrugs. “But he got my daughter’s best friend pregnant and continues on with his antics although he knows he must be being investigated some way or another. No. Vince handed the tapes to someone in the media before he was killed. There were never copies.”

This in the media is the last thing we need. Randy McDougall isn’t exactly a quiet figure in Texas politics.

Holly Woods doesn’t need to be a circus right now.

“Where are they now? The tapes?”

“My husband was made aware of them, likely by Natalie before she died. However, there’s no indication that he has any idea that I know they exist.” She runs a finger around the top of her glass. “He’s meeting someone tonight, by the old 7-11 store just outside town. He’s flying into Austin to be here by midnight to get the tapes, and then he’s flying back out immediately after.”