“I’m going to figure out what the hell happened with Cole Reiner.”
* * *
FOSTER HADN’T FOUND any cold cases that he thought Cole would have found interesting and, according to the list assigned with the box, there were no files missing. From there he’d gone to trying to find out what Cole had been up to since leaving town.
Based on how much he swore when he didn’t think Millie could hear him, that hadn’t gone well. Foster went from online searches and phone calls to reaching out to current and former sheriff’s department employees who might have seen or heard something like Deputy Park had.
Millie hadn’t had much better news.
The security footage of the grocery store had shown several locals and residents going into the store but none had been Jason Talbot. The only familiar faces she and Deputy Park had seen belonged to June Meeks, the Rosewater’s bartender, Detective Gordon, the sheriff and Larissa. Not as significant as finding Talbot would have been. It was a small town, after all. Familiar faces weren’t uncommon.
Since then Deputy Park had been reassigned to help Foster’s search for Cole, and Millie had been given clearance by the sheriff to stick around Foster’s office. There she’d decided to do what she’d become good at in the last six months.
She wrote down notes and created timelines, much like she’d done on the whiteboard in her kitchen at home.
If Foster’s feeling was right—that it was the two of them who had stumbled onto another investigation entirely—then assuming everything so far had been connected was as bad as assuming everything wasn’t.
Millie was now looking at Fallon’s name, which she’d put in the middle of the paper. Arrows branched off from his name in several directions.
If Millie and Foster really were putting a kink in someone else’s investigation, then what did that mean for Fallon?
How was he involved?
If he was, why hadn’t he reached out to her?
And where had he been?
The cold and creeping worry that Fallon had found something worse than trouble pulled Millie’s heart down.
Just as quickly she shook her head to get rid of even the possibility that Fallon’s truck was in play because he’d been a victim.
You haven’t thought like that in the last six months. You can’t start now, she mentally chided herself, eyes focusing on the paper between her hands. There’s got to be something you’re missing.
Missing.
Millie tilted her head. A new thought entering.
If Fallon was involved, who was he involved with?
Jason Talbot? Donni or Wyatt? William or Cole Reiner?
Millie grabbed her purse and slung it across her shoulder. She left Foster’s office with purpose and didn’t slow until she found him leaving the interrogation room.
Even without speaking, she could tell his frustration had been turned up to extra high.
Still, concern lit his features at the sight of her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked without preamble. “Did you find something?”
Millie didn’t waste time either.
“It might be nothing, but there was a screen missing off one of the Rosewater’s back windows when we were looking there the other day. Maybe that wasn’t just bad maintenance.” She lowered her voice. “We know that Reiner wasn’t the one who took us since he was spotted leaving the bar before us, so whoever drugged us and took us from the bar had to be close, right? Did anyone from the department search the midsection of rooms at the motel? If not, can we?”
Foster shook his head. That frustration stretched into something else.
“No, but, Millie, Wyatt Cline just woke up and he said he wants to talk.”
Chapter Nineteen
The hospital was quiet.
Somehow, that made being there exponentially more unsettling.
At least that’s what Millie told him, shoulder against his as they walked side by side down the hallway and toward the elevator. Since their unexpected time together, he’d realized their orbit had gotten smaller around one another.
Little moments.
Leaning in toward her, touching the small of her back or her elbow to lead her in the direction they needed to go, looking at her when she was doing something else.
It was an odd feeling.
It also wasn’t a logical one.
Foster had known Millie for a little over a week. Within that week they had been put in high-pressure situations that weren’t run-of-the-mill by any means. Danger, fear and violence had created a bond between them. An understanding and relatable thread.
But when they found Fallon?
When they figured out what happened with Cole and William Reiner?
Well, Foster imagined they’d have to talk about what he and Millie meant to each other then and if that thread between them had severed.
Foster wouldn’t be mad about it.
He’d been with Regina for a decade and known her for a decade more. She’d been a great woman and they’d had all the tools to have a great life together.
But they hadn’t.
Foster knew deep down that that wasn’t all on him, that they’d been too young when they’d married and then kept on with their mistake just to prove everyone wrong. Yet there had been another factor that had put pressure on their marriage.
Foster loved his job and, when it came to solving a case, to getting justice, he kept going until it was done.
Right now, that worked for Millie and him. She wanted to know what had happened to her brother and wanted justice for their abduction. The truth was, though, that Fallon wouldn’t be his next case, nor the one after.
Would Millie still be accepting of his job then? Of him? Of his inability to let go?
Maybe you’re the one who’s trouble, Love, he thought to himself as they moved into the elevator. Here you are with a lead and you’re wondering if Millie will still want to kiss you after it’s been followed.
Millie, unaware of yet another series of thoughts pertaining to her rattling around in his head, eyed the elevator around them with blatant hesitation.
“What I like less than a hospital that’s eerily quiet is a metal box that has the ability to plummet back down to the ground with me in it.”
There Foster went smiling again.
“Just think of it like a car going uphill.” He pressed the button for the third floor. He didn’t say it, but he suspected the quiet of the lobby would disappear once they made it to Wyatt’s room.
At least he hoped.
Any information Wyatt might give was probably more than they had.
Millie lobbed a side-eye at him. Warm amber.
“Watch out there, Detective,” she said with a smirk. “You might make me afraid of cars too.”
Foster mirrored the smile but quieted. When the elevator stopped at the third floor, there was a lag in the doors opening. Like a switch had been flipped, the teasing stopped.
“What if Wyatt doesn’t know anything?” Millie’s voice wasn’t just small. It was broken.
Foster knew that that wasn’t the question she really wanted to ask.
What if Wyatt knows something and it’s not good?
A lack of answers had so far hurt and saved Millie. She had no idea what had happened to Fallon, which meant she could blissfully stay away from the worst-case scenario. Wyatt could keep her in the dark or he could shine the light on an uglier truth.
And there wasn’t anything Foster could do about it.
“You don’t need to be in there, Millie,” he reminded her. “I’ll repeat every word he says to me.”
Millie shook her head. “We’re a team,” she said with purpose. “I want to be there. I need to be there.”
The elevator doors slid open and they walked out onto the floor. At the end of the hallway stood the
sheriff. He had waited for them.
“I didn’t think we were a team,” Foster teased, trying to diffuse as much of the mounting tension as he could before they were at Wyatt’s room.
Millie played ball.
“We won’t be a team long if you keep telling me things like pretend elevators are cars. Next thing I know you’re going to tell me to imagine a clown the next time I’m at the dentist.”
“So you’re afraid of clowns? Or you’re afraid of the dentist?”
Millie laughed. “If you value this partnership, then you’ll avoid both topics.”
“Fair enough.”
The walk to the sheriff was a short one. All jokes and teasing were left at Wyatt’s door. Sheriff Chamblin tipped his cowboy hat to both of them before taking it off all together.
“The doc said he’s stable and not resisting or anything,” he told them. “He wouldn’t let me handcuff him, but he’s had hospital security on him the entire time one of us couldn’t be here.”
“Good,” Foster said. “Has he talked to you or anyone about what’s going on?”
The sheriff shook his head. “Since he’s not going anywhere and you’re lead on this, I wanted to wait.” He looked to Millie, then back to Foster. If he was about to try to talk him out of letting Millie come in too, he was going to have a hard time of it.
Thankfully, he didn’t.
“I’ll let you keep the lead on this,” he said instead. Then he held the door open for him and Millie. “Let’s get us some answers.”
The hospital security officer gave them a nod as Foster, Millie and the sheriff set up in the room. They each took up a spot around the hospital bed. Millie to the left, the sheriff to the right and Foster at the end. Despite their closer proximity, Wyatt’s gaze went to and stuck to Foster.
“Wyatt Cline, I’m Detective Lovett with the sheriff’s department and I have a few questions.”
* * *
MILLIE HAD SEEN Foster naked, felt him against her naked, yet seeing him command the absolute attention of a man who had tried to shoot him days before brought out a different kind of attraction in her. It was like seeing someone in his element and being in awe of him.
Respect mixed with admiration and a big pinch of passion added in.
It was easy to stand there, quiet, and watch him do his job. Even the sheriff remained silent as Foster dove in without further preamble.
“Why were you out on that boat?”
Beneath the fluorescent lights of the hospital, Wyatt Cline appeared harmless enough. He was round and young and had dark rings beneath his eyes. A young man who looked like he was working himself to the bone for some corporate bigwig and a promotion he probably was never going to get. And now he was in the hospital for it, an older man of the law ready to give him a stern talking-to.
He didn’t fit the image of intimidating. He definitely didn’t fit the image of Donni Marsden’s partner in crime.
Wyatt rolled his eyes, only adding to the impression of youth Millie got from the young man.
“I’d always wanted to go night fishing,” he responded, voice a bit on the scratchy side. “Seemed like as good of a time as any to try it out.”
Foster stopped the story by holding up his hand.
“We heard everything you said before Deputy Park showed up. You were looking for me and Miss Dean. Why and how did you know where to go?”
Wyatt didn’t respond this time.
It only made Foster lean in more.
“Wyatt, you pulled a shotgun out and aimed at a member of law enforcement. That’s attempted murder, bud. It was also caught on Deputy Park’s body camera so it’s not just hearsay. It’s a provable fact.” Foster took a beat, letting his words settle in a little. “This conversation right now doesn’t keep you from going to prison. It only decides on how long you’ll be there. So, if I were you, I’d start cooperating while my patience is still intact. And let me tell you, after the week I’ve had, that patience is paper thin and only getting thinner.”
All of the defiance and snark seemed to deflate right on out of the younger man. He shared a look with Millie and the sheriff before going back to Foster.
He came to a decision quick. “I want immunity,” he declared. “Immunity or I don’t say anything.”
The sheriff spoke up on that. “We can only start to talk about talking about a lesser sentence if you give us actionable information, just so you’re clear.”
Wyatt didn’t like that. Foster was quick to slide back in.
“That’s the only shot at a good deal you’re going to get during all of this, Wyatt,” he said. “If that works out then, add in good behavior, and it could mean the difference of years.”
Millie didn’t know if that was necessarily true—she’d seen on cop shows where they’d stretched the truth to get the truth—but she found she didn’t care at the moment. Wyatt knew something.
They needed to know that something too.
Wyatt gave them all another passing glance.
Then defeat was all that showed on his freckled face.
“Fine. I’ll tell you what I know.”
The sheriff pulled out a notepad and pen. Millie didn’t mean to, but she took a small step closer. Foster, ever the detective in charge, stayed as sturdy as a statue.
“Why did you go out to the boat?” he repeated.
Wyatt sighed and surprised her yet again. He lifted his arm slowly and pointed in her direction.
“Donni called and said he’d heard that her and some cop had been taken. He said we could use that to finally get what we wanted.”
Foster didn’t miss a beat. “What was it that you wanted? And how would Millie help you get it?”
Wyatt was a little more hesitant. “We thought that since he was finally making a move, we could use that to force him into a trade for her.”
“Who’s he?”
This time Wyatt was the one who looked surprised.
“William Reiner,” he said matter-of-factly. “Y’all were taken to the boat to be delivered to him. You know, he’s the bad guy, right?”
For the first time, Foster faltered.
Millie didn’t know why yet—or maybe she did—but her blood started to turn to ice in her veins. A creeping cold that began to freeze her in place atop the tile floor.
“Do you know who drugged and kidnapped us to take us to the boat?” he asked, recovering.
Wyatt gave a half-shrug, then flinched. For a moment Millie had forgotten they were in a hospital, talking to a former gunshot and coma patient still attached to hospital equipment and an IV.
“Never seen him myself but I’m guessing Cole Reiner, you know, his brother.”
“We would have noticed if Cole Reiner had been around to drug us.” Foster’s voice had gone even. No inflection, just powerful monotone.
Wyatt shrugged again. “I mean, that’s probably where June comes in.”
“Say again?” the sheriff spoke up. “You’re talking about June Meeks?”
“Yeah.”
“And why would June drug anyone?”
Wyatt snorted. “Well, she was pretty hot and heavy with Cole before he ‘disappeared.’”
Sheriff Chamblin looked at Foster. His jaw set. Hard.
He was angry.
He’d been the one to vouch for June and, Millie was guessing, he’d had no idea about her former relationship with the younger Reiner.
Foster, however, stayed on point.
“So you’re saying that June drugged us so Cole could take us out to an abandoned boat in the middle of the creek. Where we would then wait for his brother to come and collect Millie. Why would William Reiner go through all of that trouble and why would he go for Millie?”
A monitor beeped.
Someone made noise out in the hallway.
Air came out into the room from somewhere.
Millie could have sworn she heard her own heartbeat.
“Donni said he guessed it was because, after all of this time, she was still poking around to find out what happened to her brother. She even got a new guy, you, to help her. Some hotshot detective from the big city.”
Millie took a small step again. This time backward.
Foster didn’t volley back a question quick enough.
She knew it then, right then, that he’d already finished the conversation with Wyatt in his head.
That he’d already reached the end of the road.
That he already knew that her brother hadn’t left Kelby Creek at all.
“William Reiner didn’t want Millie looking for Fallon?” Foster had to ask.
Wyatt snorted.
Actually snorted.
He shook his head. “Considering he killed Fallon, no, I’m guessing he didn’t want her, or anyone else, looking for him.”
There it was.
The end of Millie’s world, coming from the mouth of a man with shadows beneath his eyes.
This time Millie could have sworn that, instead of her heartbeat, she heard her heart break.
Chapter Twenty
Millie spent a good while tucked into Foster’s chest.
She didn’t know how long, and she didn’t care who saw. For a while it was just the two of them. His heartbeat against her ear, his arms holding her together.
But, then, Foster had to go.
He had a bad guy to catch, he had a mystery to solve.
He had to get justice for someone who had been unfairly taken.
Fallon.
Every time his name echoed in Millie’s head, she felt like she was falling deeper down into a hole. She saw the man he’d been, the child she’d loved, and the person she’d hoped to see him become.
Happy, healthy, and no longer struggling beneath the weight of his past.
Then came the awful sense of despair right after.
The churning and curdling heat of anger and hate came next.
Millie let herself attach to those ugly feelings to get her through everything that had to happen next. Then? Later on? She would go back to that deep, dark hole and cry into it until there was nothing left to give.
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