“Yeah.”
Oliver’s body language said everything.
“No wonder last time we couldn’t even get past the front door. Now we’re not only inside, but actually meeting him in person.”
“So it really was a warning.”
Brandon gripped the steering wheel, lost in his thoughts for a moment. Then he turned the car around and headed back up the hill.
In the garden, Patricia wore a nude-colored modern dress, a two-piece with a simple round neckline that showed off her collarbones. Her long, dark hair hung loose down her back as she wandered among the flowers, checking if any needed trimming.
Oliver was lounging in the shade, dressed in soft gray loungewear, keeping away from the sun. He had his foldable phone open, quietly dealing with work stuff.
When Brandon’s car pulled up again, Oliver didn’t look the least bit surprised.
He just closed his phone, stood up politely, and watched Brandon get out and walk over.
“Mr. Padilla, sorry to trouble you, but I’d like to get a copy of that video, if it’s possible.”
Oliver looked him up and down, all polite on the surface, but there was no hiding the subtle distance in his eyes. He might act like a gentleman, but the line between them was clear as day.
Brandon ignored the coldness. He’d been a cop long enough to know that pride didn’t solve cases.
“Johns,” Oliver called, his voice steady and calm.
Johns made a quick call to Aiden, asking him to bring the files over again.
Brandon didn’t see Patricia at all—his view was blocked by the hedges.
On the other side, Patricia didn’t seem interested in what was happening either.
When Aiden showed up with the laptop, Brandon stepped into the pavilion, plugged in his flash drive, and copied the video.
He thanked Oliver before leaving.
Just as he turned to go, Patricia appeared from behind the hedges, holding a potted elm tree in her arms.



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