by Jeannie Watt
“You weren’t speeding, were you?” Nick asked with a half smile.
Justin tried to smile back, but failed.
“Do you think the hit was deliberate?”
“Yes.” The word was low but adamant.
“Any idea who?” Nick asked.
It took Justin a few seconds to say slowly, “I may know who.”
“Who?” Nick repeated quietly, glad that Daph was keeping her mouth shut.
“After we talked,” he said to Daphne, “I asked a friend at the lake…a couple questions about drugs. If it was getting…worse.” He swallowed drily. “Thought he was like me.”
“Clean?” Nick asked. Justin gave a weak nod.
“And someone decided you might be a narc?” Daphne spoke for the first time.
Justin cut a glance toward her. “Narc…money launderer. Many accusations.” He almost smiled and then his eyes drifted shut. “I didn’t think…”
“It’s okay,” Daphne said.
“Can you give me your friend’s name?” Nick asked.
“Yeah. Ronnie Esparza. Works the evening shift. Salad station.”
“Thanks,” Daphne said, stepping away from the bed.
Justin’s eyes came open again, zeroing in on Nick. “I’m worried about Eden.”
“I’ll take care of her.”
“Good.” His eyelids lowered again before he muttered, “Damn, I hurt.”
NICK AND DAPHNE came out of the room together, talking in low voices. They conferred for a few seconds after the door to Justin’s room closed behind them, then Daphne gave a curt nod and headed toward the exit. She acknowledged Eden with a quick glance and then was gone.
Which left Nick.
Whom Eden didn’t particularly want to see.
“I need to talk to you,” he said in that same emotionless voice as before. “Will you excuse us, Granddad?” he added when Eden got to her feet.
They walked a few yards away to a potted palm next to an empty desk. Nick’s hand came to rest at her elbow, but she shook it off.
“Here’s the deal,” he said in a low voice, once again taking her upper arm in a loose grip, as if afraid she’d bolt before he was done talking. “Daphne and I are working on your brother’s accident.” Eden opened her mouth, but Nick cut her off. “We have a good idea of what’s going on and there’s an excellent possibility that we’ll have a satisfactory resolution.”
A satisfactory resolution. What would one of those feel like?
Eden pulled her arm away and hugged herself. “And that’s it.”
“No.” His mouth tightened for a moment. “That’s not it. You need to know that everything I did…I had a reason. I had choices to make and I didn’t make them lightly. This has cost me, too.”
Eden nodded, not meeting his eyes, not wanting to see what was in their depths. Because she was afraid? Hell, yes.
“Justin’s worried about your safety.”
Her gaze came up then. “I have a state- of-the-art security system,” she said coldly. But she didn’t feel nearly as brave as she sounded. Someone had forced her brother off the road and now Justin was concerned about her safety.
“Make sure you turn it on,” Nick replied with equal coolness. Cop coolness. This was not the Nick who cooked with his grandfather or hit himself in the face with a chisel, or the Nick that had shared her bed. Eden swallowed as she studied his face. This was a man she didn’t know. Didn’t care to know.
Like Ian, Nick had a second face.
“Thanks for the tip,” she said. “Will you keep me updated?”
After her sarcastic comment, she expected more copspeak. Instead, the emotionless mask slipped for a moment as he said, “I want you safe.”
Eden felt an odd sensation move through her at his adamant tone, a remnant of that connection she’d yet to totally sever. Perhaps now was the time.
“Here’s the deal. My family was fine until you and your partner took it upon yourselves to investigate us. Now we are no longer fine.”
“Eden…I am sorry that things got so screwed up. I was doing my job.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make things any better, does it?”
He glanced back at Gabe, then shifted his weight. “I need to get my granddad to his rooms and then I’m going to meet with Daphne.”
“All right.” Eden could think of nothing else to say.
“One last thing. We’re keeping the circumstances of what happened quiet, hoping that whoever did it won’t go to ground, or harass the witness. Any chance the Summit might call you when he doesn’t show up to work?”
“No idea, but I’ll avoid their calls.”
“Thank you.” Nick’s mouth tightened for a moment, then he turned and walked away, leaving Eden under the fronds of the tall potted palm. She stayed there, watching him walk beside Gabe down the hall toward the exit. Then she drew in a shaky breath and headed to her brother’s room—only to find him sound asleep.
And perhaps, in her current state of mind, that was a good thing. She needed some time alone to work up the anger again.
She didn’t get that time.
“This isn’t his fault,” Justin muttered, in such a low voice she could barely make out the words. But she did.
“How can you say that?” she demanded.
Justin’s chest rose and fell slowly. “He was doing his job. He had every reason to suspect me. I worked at drug central and I drove a really expensive car.”
“He lied to me.”
Justin rolled his head to look at her, his expression pinched. “Just think about it for a while, okay? Think about what Nick could and couldn’t have done.”
Eden rubbed her palms over her face, then sat staring at the wall behind her brother’s bed.
“Hell, you think he wanted to fall for you? What with you being all prickly and mean?”
“I am not prickly and mean,” Eden said. “And I don’t know that he fell for me. I think he used me.”
“You do a good imitation of prickly and mean,” Justin muttered. “And I’ve watched the guy around you. He’s in deep.”
“If he was in deep—”
“Damn. It. Eden. I’m trying to let the drugs take effect.”
“Then you should have continued to pretend to be asleep.” It felt so incredibly good to be able to yell at Justin that she was doing her best to ignore the stabs inflicted by the topic of conversation.
Justin gazed at her through those puffy eyes. “If he was in deep, what? He would have told you he was investigating us? When? When he first came to the kitchen? On the second visit? Third? What was he supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, I’m really a cop who faked his way into your life to see if your brother is a criminal, but now I know he’s not. Want to make out?’”
Eden stood up because she was too agitated to sit. She hated that what Justin said made sense, because she had sworn to herself that she was never going to tolerate being lied to again. Not in a major way, anyhow. Only in the of-course-that-doesn’t-make-your-butt-look-big way. She pushed her hair back, clutching a handful and holding it at the top of her head.
“I think he’s a good guy. Trying to do his job.”
Eden squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know, Justin....” Her tone sounded so much like whining that she snapped her mouth shut again.
“That’s because there’s nothing to know. He was in a lose-lose situation and he still fell for you.”
“I—”
“Need to give Nick a break and let your brother get some sleep. We’ll talk when I come out of the coma.”
Eden sighed and walked over to the bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“Ruin my day?” he said with a touch of wryness. “No problem. Have this all sorted out before I come to, okay?”
“I’ll do my best,” Eden said. Just as soon as she sorted a few hundred things out in her brain.
NICK WANTED TO nail the asshole who’d tried to kill Eden’s brother, but the Ronnie Esparza lead was not p
anning out—mainly because he was nowhere to be found. His mother, his girlfriend, his boss—no one seemed to know where to find him which frustrated the hell out of Nick. Esparza’s name was being released as a person of interest in an ongoing investigation, but Nick wasn’t holding out much hope.
After chasing down his fifth dead-end lead, he finally got through to the one witness they had—the woman who’d called the highway patrol to report the accident. She thought the poor man standing next to his damaged SUV had hit an animal, and didn’t know if his vehicle was operational or if he had a phone. When HP went to investigate, they’d found Justin in his totaled Firebird at the bottom of the canyon and no Grand Cherokee.
“I didn’t see the accident,” the woman told Nick after he’d identified himself and explained the reason for his call. “I came round the corner, saw a very damaged SUV parked beside the road and a man outside it, looking over the edge of the embankment. I started to slow, but he waved me on.” She paused and then said, “Being a woman alone at night, well, you understand. So I dialed the highway patrol.”
“What kind of SUV was it?”
“Something dark. Maybe a Jeep? Or a Pathfinder? I’m not certain. Its front end was quite smashed up. Like he’d hit a deer or a bear or something. That’s why I think he was peering over the embankment. To see what happened to the animal.”
“What did he look like? The guy?”
“Umm. Tallish. Thin. His hair was long, blowing back in the wind.”
“Age?”
“I couldn’t tell you. Not super old.”
“All right. Thank you. I hope you don’t mind if I call you back if I have any more questions?”
She didn’t mind and Nick hung up the phone. Tall, thin guy with longish hair. Not too many of those in the world.
Nick tossed an empty pen across the room and into the trash.
What now?
Marcus came into the room then, carrying a computer printout and, for a brief moment, Nick felt a glimmer of hope. “You got something on the Tremont hit-and-run?”
“No.” Marcus laid the sheet on Nick’s desk. “But I did find Bonita Tarrington Wells. She’s living in a retirement community outside of Pahrump.”
PATTY CAME IN to help on Sunday morning, and Eden went through the familiar motions of making and packing four days of easy-to-reheat gourmet meals into containers.
“Would you like me to deliver?” Patty asked.
“No.” She shook her head. Patty did not know what had happened to Justin, and was openly curious about the half-finished cake that was due to be delivered the next day. Eden had already called and offered a full refund, plus a percent off a future cake. The customer wasn’t happy, but she didn’t think he’d be any more pleased if she tried to decorate it herself.
“I’m more than happy to,” Patty persisted.
Eden pushed the hair off her cheek with one hand. “I have to talk to Mrs. Ballard about the party setup.” The biggest pain of surprise parties in a home—setting them up without the guest of honor being any the wiser. “But…I guess you could deliver the Stewart meals.”
“It’s on my way home,” Patty said, pleased to be needed.
Eden helped her load the cooler and boxes into her car, and then packed her own cooler and boxes into her Civic. She was so thankful that March had been slow for them. It hurt the pocketbook, but in other ways was a sanity saver. Eden didn’t know if she could fake too many parties. As it was, she and Patty and a temp were doing two luncheons that week, but at least they were buffets and Eden wouldn’t have to serve or smile or be on her A game.
At the moment, she didn’t know if she could fake a C game. Feeling lied to and betrayed by Nick was bad enough, but now her biggest fear was that whoever had tried to run Justin off the road would try again once they discovered they’d failed.
She was so damned glad she had that alarm system, even if she’d been scammed into getting it. She still hadn’t figured out why Nick had… Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. To get access to her house and her records, of course. How else had he known they were “clean,” as he called it?
She made a sharp left turn into the Ballard driveway and headed through the wrought-iron gate.
Calm. Down.
Eden unloaded the cooler as she’d done every Sunday for the past four years, and dragged it behind her up the flagstone walk to the back entrance. Drop this stuff off, talk to Tina, then head down the hill to check on Justin.
She left the cooler on the patio and returned to her car for the box. When she got back to the patio, the cooler was gone and the back door propped open. Michael Ballard, the birthday boy, appeared and took the box from her.
“Hey, Eden. Good stuff as always?” He was a tall, round man with a fringe of red hair and a penchant for cardigan sweaters when he wasn’t wearing a business suit.
“The best,” she said, smiling, trying to appear normal. “Is Tina here?”
“She sure is.” He winked and said, “I’ll just disappear while you talk.” Eden tilted her head, frowning slightly, when he cupped a hand next to his mouth and whispered, “I know about the p-a-r-t-y.”
She firmed her lips in mock disapproval. “Better keep quiet about that.”
He laughed. “I’ll go to my den and save her the trouble of kicking me out.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall and Michael put a finger to his lips and slipped out the back door on the patio. Tina stuck her perfectly coiffed dark head into the kitchen, then looked down the hall. “I thought I heard Michael.”
“He helped me bring in the meals, and then went outside.”
“Excellent.” Her client smiled. “Now, here’s the plan. We will leave at six o’clock to visit our married daughter, and hopefully be back at seven. That only gives you an hour. Can you do it?”
“I can do it,” Eden said with a show of enthusiasm she hoped didn’t sound forced.
“Great. I’ll leave the side door open, because Michael never checks that one before we leave.” Tina brought her hands together. “This will be so much fun.”
“Oh, yes,” Eden said. “I can’t wait.”
Happy people, happy times, while her own life was disintegrating around her.
NICK TOOK A few paces down the gravel road where a sheriff’s deputy had found the Jeep Grand Cherokee abandoned in the desert near Virginia City. The front bumper and grille were smashed and telltale streaks of dark blue paint that matched Justin’s Firebird radiated down the passenger side of the vehicle.
“There are tire tracks here where someone turned a vehicle around,” the highway patrolman pointed out. “The driver got picked up.”
“Yeah,” Nick said. He’d wanted to inspect the scene before the rig got hauled off to impound. Not much to see, except for the tire marks from the other vehicle and the blown front tire on the Jeep, which was probably why they’d abandoned it in the open. The plates were gone and the VIN number had been obliterated. But there should still be a number on the engine block, which he hoped to have by the end of the day. That and fingerprints.
They’d had absolutely no luck finding Ronnie Esparza. The guy had quit the country, leaving Nick to wonder if he’d been working alone or under orders. Or if, once his mission had been completed, he’d shared Cully’s fate.
RENO PD HAD no extra manpower to speak of, but Nick managed to get a couple patrols down Eden’s street, just in case. Justin was still in the hospital and no one had asked any questions about him. No anonymous phone calls looking for updates. Nothing like that.
“Did you sleep last night?” Daphne asked, walking into the office as Nick poured his umpteenth cup of coffee. He was drinking so much that the pot was actually fresh most of the time. Tonight was the big casino and poker night at the Candlewood Center, but he wasn’t going to make it, much to his grandfather’s disgust. Nick knew he’d be crappy company and, more than that, he wanted to stop by Eden’s place once she was finished with this damned birthday party. See if she’d th
awed at all. Yeah, he’d screwed up royally, but…hell, he didn’t even have an excuse.
“A couple hours. Why?”
“Just curious. And we have a problem.”
“Another one?” Nick asked, settling back in his chair.
“Yeah.” Daphne held out a photo, which for once wasn’t a mug shot. “This is a picture of the guy that Tremont said he talked to. Ronnie Esparza. I got it from his mother.” Daphne smiled. “A very sweet woman. Anyway, do you notice a problem?”
“You mean that this guy is short and chubby with black hair?”
“Uh, yeah. And we’re looking for a guy who’s tall and thin with long brownish hair.”
“That guy could be working with Esparza.” Nick huffed out a breath. “Ronnie probably doesn’t have any prints on file?”
“Nope.”
“Excellent,” Nick said, as Marcus came into the room carrying a sheaf of papers. He cast a quick cold look in Daphne’s direction, then sat at the table next to Nick.
“I chased down the VIN of the abandoned vehicle. It’s registered to Colby Construction.”
“I’m not familiar with it,” Daphne said.
“Probably because they do no construction. If you trace the company, as I have, you’ll find that it’s a subsidiary of a subsidiary.”
Nick waited, but Marcus didn’t do his usual slow, dramatic reveal. Instead he said quietly, “Ultimately, the company is owned by Michael Ballard.”
The entertainment director of the Summit Hotel in Tahoe and its sister hotel in Reno, the Cassandra—Eden’s client. Nick’s gut tightened. It was casino night at the Candlewood Center, which meant it was also the night of that frigging party she was giving there.
“Imagine that,” Daphne said sarcastically. “Shell companies. Why on earth would he need those?”
“To launder money,” Marcus said simply.
And in a display of extreme patience, which spoke to how impressed she was with Marcus’s quick work tracing the vehicle, Daphne calmly replied, “I see.” She glanced over at Nick and said, “What now?”
