Free No Reservations (Special Ops: Tribute Book 1) by Kate Aster

already grown accustomed to the
hodge-podge of quaint, colorful buildings that made historic Annapolis so appealing.
    Headed toward his car, a building caught his eye. “Hey,
isn’t that the bank where that safety deposit box key came from?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Do you have the key with you? We could stop by.” He
grinned. “Maybe your aunt’s got a stash of jewels in there you don’t know
about.”
    “And wouldn’t that come in handy since I’m still paying off that
drainage system in the basement?” She halted and stared at the building
thoughtfully. “Yeah, I put the key in my purse,” she said, opening its zipper,
and rifling through its contents. “But don’t count on the jewels. Knowing my
aunt, it’s more likely a stack of unpaid bills that I’ll have haunting me in
months to come.”
    “She wasn’t a good businesswoman?”
    “Not from my best guess. The estate lawyer is still trying
to figure out a few things.”
    “Really?” he asked uneasily.
    “Yeah, technically, the place isn’t even officially mine
till probate is over. But the place was in pretty bad shape. If I didn’t move
in and start fixing it up, I’d have major mold problems by the time I
officially took it over.”
    It made sense to Maddox; he’d heard how houses could fall
into disrepair and get vandalized if they were vacant. Hell, she might have
even had squatters to deal with if she hadn’t moved in. But he hoped that
decision didn’t bite her in the ass down the road.
    A triumphant gleam in her eye, she pulled the key out from
her massive purse. “Found it.”
    “You game?”
    “Sure, why not?”
    Maddox held the bank’s door open for her and Bridget walked
up to the teller.
    “Hi, I have a safety deposit box key that belonged to my
aunt. She died this winter and I was wondering if you could tell me anything
about it,” she informed the woman behind the counter, passing the key to her.
     “If the account isn’t in your name, there’s not much I
can tell you,” the teller replied. “What was her name?”
    “Lydia McConnelly. I inherited the house she lived in. I’m
Bridget Needham.”
    The teller tapped away at her keyboard, then raised her
eyebrows, doing a double take at her monitor. “Can I see a driver’s license,
please?”
    Bridget reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet.
    Taking the license from her, the teller eyed her. “Well, the
box was closed in February of this year.”
    Maddox cocked his head. “I thought you said you couldn’t
tell her anything since it wasn’t in her name.”
    “She’s listed on the account. Bridget Needham. And Elise Needham.”
    “That’s my mom.”
    “Well, Elise Needham closed the box up on February 2nd. We
had to charge her for a missing key because she only returned one of them.”
    “So there’s nothing in the box?”
    “She emptied the box that day and closed the account.”
    “Okay. Thanks.” She gave a perfunctory smile before stepping
away from the counter. She glanced up at Maddox, an odd, empty look in her eyes.
“Well, so much for a stash of jewels.”
    “Sorry. But at least it wasn’t a stack of unpaid bills,” he
pointed out as he opened the bank door for her.
    They fell back into stride together as they continued toward
his car, but the air between them had changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger
on it.
    She was quiet on the way home, and conversation was strained
for the first time since he’d met her.
    After dropping her off at the inn, saying he had some
errands to run, Maddox punched in the address of the hardware store into his
GPS and picked up his cell phone. He dialed Becca’s number and hit the
hands-free button on the display.
    “Hey, Becca,” he said at the sound of her voice as he pulled
into traffic.
    “Hey, Maddox. What’s up?”
    “Am I on speaker?”
    “Yep.”
    “Is Brandon there?”
    “Hi, Maddox!” He heard Becca’s son bursting into the
conversation.
    “Hey, buddy. How was school?”
    “Good. We’re