Page 47 of Willowbrooke
CHAPTER 9
Aftermath
While we waited for more information on what had happened to Julie, Leo and I fell into a sort of inelegant routine, in which he made himself scarce—I suspect because he didn’t trust himself around me—while others were in the house with us. While he avoided me, I spent my days perfecting the redesigned and updated bedrooms on the second floor.
Seeing everything come together was incredibly rewarding, but the awkward fog of tension that had settled upon Willowbrooke wouldn’t quite allow me to enjoy the process as much as I had hoped. Still, there were moments where I would forget everything that was going on aroundme and get into this zen work-mode, where creativity flowed out of me. The newly completed spaces felt like a breath of fresh air in the midst of our complicated situation.
At night, when the workers were gone, Leo would return from chasing down leads and trying to learn more about what could have happened to his parents, thirty years apart from one another. He seemed to take joy in seeing each room I completed, pointing out small details, and always needed to have a moment alone to take a deep breath and absorb the space.
After dinner, a couple glasses of wine typically led to steamy makeout sessions on the couch, most of which ended too soon for my liking, but Leo’s restraint impressed me. I’d told him I wanted to take things slow, and he was waiting for permission to move past this initial phase. Unwilling to separate myself from him, I’d fall asleep next to him most nights while he read, comforted by his warmth and our growing connection.
When I was alone with my thoughts during the day, doubt would creep in, and in an effort to protect myself, I think I was almost trying to convince myself if things didn’t work out between Leo and I, it was probably for the better. But when he was next to me, when he was touching me, kissing me, every single doubt melted away. Any anxiety I’d built up over the course of the day would vanish, and there was only him.
It was bliss.
Toward the end of the week, I was putting the finishing touches on the blue room, lost in thought, when Leo found me upstairs.
“This was my room growing up, you know…” Leo wrapped an arm around my waist, gently pulling my back to his front. “It’s never looked better.”
“Danny’s downstairs,” I sighed, placing my hands on his arm.
“I know,” he whispered, placing soft kisses from the crook of my neck up to just below my ear. “I shut the door.”
I laughed at his response. “You’re home early.” I turned in his arms, then pulled his face to mine for another stolen kiss.
“Greg’s here,” he said reluctantly, knowing the moment had now passed.
“Your PI?” I raised a brow.
Leo nodded. “He said he finally got some info from his contact at the local police. I thought you might want to join us.”
“Thank you.” I gave him one final peck on the lips before using the pad of my thumb to wipe my lip gloss from his mouth.
“He’s in the library,” Leo said. “Wait a minute, then come down.”
“Okay.” I smiled, willing to follow his instructions.
I fluffed some pillows and reordered a few decor pieces on the bookshelf before deciding I had waited long enough.
Down in the library, Greg Masters, Leo’s PI friend,wasn’t quite what I had pictured. Perhaps I’d watched one too many noir movies, which had me anticipating a dark and brooding, broad-shouldered gentleman in a suit. Greg wasn’t any of those things. Balding, with a slim build and casual attire, he stood a head below Leo, a backpack slung over one shoulder. I would have pegged him for a reporter over a private detective.
“Nice to meet you.” I smiled as I shook his hand.
Greg returned the gesture, but I got the distinct impression he had been sizing me up from the moment I walked into the room. Every move I made, every word I said, was up for scrutiny. Maybe he was a PI, after all.
Leo closed the library door behind me, locking it, an action that was maybe necessary to avoid interruptions, but still seemed over-the-top.
“Can’t be too careful,” Greg told me, with a hard New England accent, watching my face. Leo had apparently locked the door at his behest.
“You said you have new information.” Leo gestured for both of us to take a seat in the same chairs where I had confessed to finding Christine’s journal after he’d kissed me against the bookshelf.
A glance in the general direction had me blushing.
Greg raised an eyebrow, unable to assign logic to my reaction.
“Initially, they thought it was a burglary gone wrong.” Greg leaned back in the wingback chair. “But the nurse’shusband insists that nothing was taken, there’s no forced entry—in fact there was evidence that she had company.”
“You mentioned she was shot?” Leo asked.
