The Eligible Suspect

by Jennifer Morey

  “It won’t be long before the cops get here. I told them about your friendship with Chavis.”

  “Good. Because you’re going to need them.”

  “I’m going to need the cops?” Damen outright laughed, a deep, robust sound that ricocheted off the walls.

  “Savanna?” Korbin said. “I need you to wait in the backroom. Or outside in the truck. Whichever you prefer.”

  “Wh—why?”

  “Because I don’t want you to see this.”

  Damen’s smile vanished. He was beginning to recall Korbin’s reputation. This was why no one went up against him, why no one tried to make him do things against his will. Damen should have remembered that. He should have considered the possibility that he’d find himself on the receiving end of Korbin’s brand of justice.

  “What are you going to do?” Savanna asked. She was a strong, brave woman, but she wasn’t accustomed to violence.

  “Give us some time alone together, Savanna.” His calm tone was both reassuring and a warning.

  Savanna looked from Damen to Korbin. “I’ll be in the truck.”

  * * *

  Savanna started toward the truck, a thousand questions going through her mind. Who was Collette? Who was Bear? And what was Korbin doing in that cabin right now?

  The only reason she didn’t drive away was because that man had shot at her. Well, and she didn’t have the keys, either. Still punchy and dazed over how close she’d come to dying, she couldn’t think straight. What was the right thing to do? Damen had set Korbin up in a hit-and-run accident. What had happened with that? Had someone died? And what’s with the woman, Collette? She’d been trying to escape Damen and Korbin had tried to save her.

  Everything she’d heard painted Korbin as a hero. He’d jumped between her and Damen when he’d shot at her. He’d saved her. Again.

  About fifteen minutes later, Korbin emerged, striding calmly toward the truck as though he’d just left a hair appointment instead of a man tied up. When he climbed into the truck and handed her the keys, Savanna had regained some of her aplomb.

  “Is he dead?”

  “No. But he’ll be in the hospital for a few days.”

  Just the right amount of time he needed? He’d beaten the man so severely that he’d be taken to the hospital. That’s what the police would find when they arrived to look for Korbin. Damen. Beaten to a bloody pulp.

  “Where are we going?” She wasn’t even sure she was going anywhere with him.

  “Denver. I have a friend who can help us.”

  She didn’t even ask to be taken home. She didn’t know where she wanted to be right now. But there was one thing she needed to set straight. “There is no us.”

  He paused in clipping his seat belt in the passenger seat to observe her, probably trying to ascertain whether she meant them as a couple or them in this situation.

  “There is an us.” He clipped the belt as though that made everything final. “Damen shooting at you made that a certainty. You’re staying with me now.”

  She jerked the gear into Reverse and turned the truck around. “I cannot believe this.”

  “I’ll make it right.”

  “Like you did in there?” She jerked her thumb toward the back window, where through the rearview mirror the cabin disappeared as the thick forest swallowed them.

  “Collette was Damen’s girlfriend,” Korbin said. “He killed her after she met with me.” He explained everything about the meeting and the hit-and-run and then finding Collette.

  Nauseated to discover two people had died before he’d fortuitously found his way to her remote road, Savanna drove white-knuckled, pale and cold.

  “Didn’t you notice anything off about Damen before now?” There’s something wrong with a person who was capable of murdering people. A staged hit-and-run? He had to have noticed something.

  “He wasn’t always like what you saw in there. I told you the truth about him. And me. We stole from the wealthy. It was a game. Until now.”

  Now it was no game. Damen would kill to preserve his dangerous association with a man named Tony.

  “And yes, I have noticed the change in him before now. That’s why I was getting out,” he said. “After I found out about Bear...”

  She was almost afraid to ask. “Who is Bear?”

  “A drug dealer.”

  She gaped at him as long as she dared while she drove. “You make it sound like you were a member of a street gang.”

  “It was starting to feel like that.”

  She didn’t know how to handle all of this. Part of her said drive somewhere safe and get away from him. Another sensed he was an innocent man who needed some help.

  “I’m sorry about all of this,” Korbin said.

  She said nothing, unwilling to encourage him or let him think she was going to go along with any of this.

  “I would have taken a bullet for you back there,” he said. She glanced at him because she heard how much he meant it.

  He turned from the window. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

  She glanced over at him. Then looked forward at the curving highway ahead.

  “Collette was someone special?” she asked.

  “Not romantically. She had a rough go as a teenager. That led her to Damen’s door. But she was trying to better herself. She was a nice girl, wouldn’t have hurt anyone. She deserved more than what she got.”

  His wife had died. His friend. And a stranger. All because of his association with Damen. All but his wife...or was she included in that stat?

  “How exactly did your wife die?” she asked. He’d noncommittally said it was an accident, and she hadn’t asked what kind.

  It was a long moment before he replied. “She was shot.” He turned toward the window again. “A group of men drove by. They were trying to kill Damen, and they got her instead.”

  Oh, dear God. How terrible! Savanna didn’t know what to say at first. But then she began to wonder about some things.

  “Why was someone shooting at Damen?”

  “I never did get a straight answer, but the police said it was gang-related. That’s when I found out Damen was selling drugs. He must have gotten too close to their territory. After they missed him, he sent out his own posse. I didn’t know he had people like that working for him until then. I didn’t see much of him after Niya died. I was too...”

  Grief-stricken.

  Savanna felt the sting of sympathy. It stung because it only hammered home what she’d already realized this morning. He wasn’t ready for a relationship. She could argue that neither was she, but sleeping with him had been stupid on her part. If she was ever going to succeed in sparing her heart from further damage, she had to start making smarter decisions.

  “It took me a while to process everything,” he said. “About eight months later, Damen came to me. He asked if I’d help him with a new deal he was working. He said he couldn’t tell me any details until I agreed to join the project. That’s when I told him I was finished. We had words. I accused him of my wife’s death. It was essentially his fault. He got into drug dealing without telling me. My wife and I were not aware of how much danger we were in just by being with him. I was furious with him for that. He tried to threaten me, but backed off.”

  Going over his big frame, appreciating it too much, she recognized his confidence. She could see how his friend wouldn’t try to go up against him. But Damen could make him pay in other ways, like staging a hit-and-run. He’d underestimated what would happen after that, however. Or he wouldn’t be lying in that cabin broken and bleeding.

  “But he never got over it,” she said.

  “Damen was always competing with me. I had the college degree. I had a beautiful wife. And he could never control me. He made comments every once in a
while. I should have paid closer attention.”

  “So when he saw you with his girlfriend, he snapped.”

  Korbin nodded solemnly. “He must have heard her when she called me and followed her.”

  “Do you think he had your wife killed intentionally?”

  His head shot up and turned to her. He’d never considered that. But it was entirely possible that Damen had arranged for a drive-by.

  “Those men were part of a gang,” Korbin said. “It was in the police report. They were all arrested and sent to prison with varying sentences. The one who fired the fatal shot got life.”

  She slowed the truck as they arrived in Monte Vista. Brick and stone buildings lined the two-lane road. A car pulled into a diagonal parking space. People walked along the sidewalks on both sides, the late-afternoon sun casting long winter shadows.

  “Let’s get rid of this truck and get some different clothes,” Korbin said. “Maybe some hats.”

  She supposed she ought to feel like a fugitive. But with Korbin appearing to be wrongly accused, she didn’t.

  “You want to know what I think?” she asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “I think I was a boring motivational speaker.”

  When he just looked at her. She didn’t explain. She was in a box when she spoke about love and optimism. This was no box. This was real life. Too bad she didn’t have a speech to uplift her.

  Seeing a clothing store and gift shop, she turned the next corner and parked in a back parking lot. Together they walked to a back entrance to the shop. A bell jingled as Korbin opened the door for her and she stepped inside. He put his hand on her lower back as she walked down the narrow hall. The contact brought back the intimacy they’d shared, firing tingling warmth everywhere.

  A woman with curly white hair peeked down the hall from her post behind the counter.

  “Welcome to Nelly’s. Anything I can help you find?” She was an energetic sixty-five-year-old in an ankle-length plaid skirt with an elastic waist and a white blouse tucked in.

  “We’ll look around,” Korbin said.

  The woman turned back to the man at the counter, who was paying for whatever he’d bought that the woman had put into a bag.

  Savanna sifted through a rack of long-sleeved shirts, looking up at Korbin as he perused the men’s section. Tall, hard-muscled, pronounced jawline peppered with stubble, his sex appeal kept her heated. She had a vivid recollection of that steamy night. Steamier than any other in her life. She didn’t think she’d ever spent so much time making love with anyone.

  Finding a dark blue waffle henley, she draped that over her arm and moved on to the pants. There was a display of hats on top of the rectangular white shelf. Savanna picked out a pair of black leather ponte pants and snagged a black newsboy hat. There was a small section of shoes and she found an okay pair of black Sorel boots. At least she could get rid of the boots Hurley had lent her. Next, she found a hoodie and headed for the dressing room. All the sizes fit so she removed all of the tags and brought them out with her.

  Korbin waited for her outside the door of the fitting room and extended a jacket to her, black to match her hat. She smiled at the fact that he’d noticed what she’d chosen and then ran her gaze over his new outfit. He’d opted for a black pair of jeans and crew neck sweater. He’d also found another pair of boots. Black, like the rest of his outfit.

  “Planning on doing some sneaking around late at night?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Can’t hurt to be prepared.” He slipped on a beanie and she all but melted into a puddle. All the black really brought out the shine of his gray eyes.

  Dipping down, he angled his head to reach under her hat and kiss her. It was so unexpected that she had no time to react. But then burning heat turned her tingles into throbbing desire.

  When he let her lips go, she had to catch her breath.

  “Let’s go.” The sound of his sexy voice only strummed her nerves more.

  He took out a wallet he had in his back pocket and paid cash for their purchases, the white-haired lady eyeing them. Leaving there, Savanna walked beside him as he searched for a place to find a car. They walked up the main street for a while.

  Savanna watched him. Sure enough, the guilt settled in. He’d been drawn to kiss her and soon after felt at odds with himself.

  “Police,” he said.

  Seeing an unmarked police SUV approach down the highway, she lifted the hood of her jacket to cover her long hair. The car passed without notice.

  “There’s a rental car place up ahead,” Korbin said.

  “We’re going to rent a car?”

  There was also a bus stop across the street. Korbin saw it at the same time and they looked at each other in agreement.

  But as she walked with him to pay for two tickets, she wondered if she should go find the sheriff instead. She wasn’t wanted for anything. The police were looking for Korbin. Did she really want to be involved with this anymore? Did she really want to risk more nights like the one they had at the yurt? With him—a man who’d suffered such great loss. A man who was a criminal whether he’d been falsely accused of the hit-and-run or not. He’d spent a good chunk of his adult life stealing from the rich.

  Could she trust him? Could she trust her heart, her future, with a man like him? An instinctive voice whispered, No. He’d never said he’d stop stealing from the rich, stop hacking. He drew the line with Damen, but did that matter?

  When Savanna imagined taking him home to meet her mother, she cringed. She’d have to lie about his profession. He was no match for her. If she introduced him with the truth, he’d appear nowhere near the type of man her parents expected her to end up with. Or her. Savanna didn’t expect to be with a man like Korbin.

  But what about her fiancé? And what about the lawyer? They’d both been respectable men. And both had betrayed her. In all his wrong-side-of-the-tracks splendor, Korbin was being honest.

  It was that conflict—that confusion—that made her step onto the bus with Korbin.

  Chapter 8

  Demarco went to answer the doorbell. It was just after dinner and he and Cora had cuddled close on the couch with a movie. He opened the door, expecting a neighborhood kid selling something, and was surprised to see two men dressed in winter jackets and dress pants.

  “Mr. Ricchetti?” the one with blond hair sticking out of his hat asked.

  They knew his name? He wished he hadn’t answered the door. “Yes.”

  He dropped open a wallet that revealed a police badge. His partner, an older man who wasn’t wearing a hat over his gray hair, did the same.

  “I’m Detective Harris and this is Detective Gunderman. We’d like to talk to you about Collette Hamilton. May we come in?”

  He could hardly say no. Anxious as to why they wanted to talk to him, he moved aside to let them in. “Sure.”

  He led them to the kitchen.

  “Demo?” Cora walked into the kitchen. Her natural blond hair hid the fine strands of gray and her blue eyes still sparkled at forty. Seeing the detectives, she asked, “What’s going on?”

  He introduced her to the detectives.

  “I’m sure you’re aware of your brother’s girlfriend’s murder?” Gunderman said.

  “Yes.”

  “Would you gentlemen like some coffee?” Cora asked.

  “That would be nice, thank you,” Harris said. Their work shift was probably long from over.

  While Cora went about brewing a pot, Gunderman took charge of this impromptu visit. Demarco was sure they used the element of surprise to their advantage whenever they could.

  “The reason we’re here is we’d like to talk to you about your brother’s relationship with Collette and Korbin. As his twin, you may be able to provide us with some information
that could help us find her killer.”

  “I don’t see how I can help.”

  “You may not be aware that something you know could help. That’s why we’d like to talk to you.”

  Detectives were good at this—smoothing things over to get possible witnesses to talk. “Okay.”

  His partner slid a recorder onto the table. “Do you mind?”

  Demarco shook his head and Harris started the small digital recorder.

  “You know Korbin Maguire?” Gunderman asked.

  “Yes, through my brother.”

  “How well do you know him?”

  “Pretty well, but not as well as Damen does.”

  “What kind of relationship did he have with Collette?”

  “Damen?”

  “No, Korbin.”

  “I wasn’t aware of any relationship.”

  “They weren’t having an affair?”

  “Not that I know of.” He supposed it was possible they’d carried on in secret, but he more believed his brother had been paranoid about that. Jealous of Korbin. “They were just friends.”

  “Did you see your brother at all the morning after Collette was murdered?”

  Boom. There was the real reason they were here. Demarco stared at Gunderman, a moral battle raging within.

  Damen hadn’t known he’d seen him and he hadn’t made contact. “No.”

  “You don’t seem sure,” Gunderman said, a seasoned detective who probably knew he was lying.

  Cora put steaming coffee cups onto the table and turned her eyes to him briefly. He saw her alarm, although she covered it well. Only someone who knew her would have picked up on it. He’d have to answer to her after these two men left.

  “I’m wondering why you’re asking me that.”

  Gunderman’s eyes met his steadily. “One of your brother’s neighbors said they saw you drive up in front of their house that morning. Around eight-thirty.”

  Demarco was careful to keep any reaction from showing, while inside he was frantic for something to say. He frequently parked in front of the neighbor’s house when he went to see his brother, as he had that morning. “I don’t know any of Damen’s neighbors.”