by Lara Lacombe
Angelina frowned. “He got on some people’s nerves, sometimes. But it was never anything serious. No one wanted to hurt him.”
Micah decided to try a different tack. “I understand he proposed fairly recently?”
Angelina nodded and glanced down at the modest ring on her left hand. “Yes. About six weeks ago.”
“Was he worried at all about the Groom Killer? A lot of people are hiding their engagements or even postponing them out of fear.”
“No way.” Angelina shook her head firmly. “Joey said he wasn’t going to let some faceless bogeyman scare him out of marrying me. I told him I was fine with waiting, but he wouldn’t hear it. He stood up in the middle of the Pour House and announced to everyone that he loved me and that we were getting married, and anyone who didn’t like it could shove it.”
“When was this?” Micah asked, taking notes.
“About a week ago.” Angelina was quiet a moment, then sniffed. “Do you think the killer was in the bar that night?”
Micah tilted his head to the side. “It’s possible.” There was no evidence that Demi Colton had been hiding in the area a week ago, but it’s possible she’d gone to the Pour House in disguise or had a friend who had heard Joey’s declaration and told her about it. Joey had practically dared the killer to come after him, which made him an especially attractive target. Had his public announcement of love painted a bull’s-eye on his back?
“What about you?” he asked. “Do you have any ex-boyfriends or anyone in your life that might be jealous of your relationship with Joey?”
She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think so. I didn’t date much, and the men I did go out with never really stuck around long.”
“Who was your last boyfriend? I might need to talk to him, just to rule some things out.”
“Evan Larson.”
Micah froze, the tip of his pen poised just above the paper. “Say again?”
“Evan Larson.” Angelina wrinkled her nose. “He’s handsome and rich, but he’s also a jerk. I met him when I waited on his table—he was the first customer I went out with.”
“I see. And how long did you see him?”
“Only a couple of weeks. Like I said, he’s not that great of a guy.”
“Did things end badly between you two?” If Larson still pined over Angelina, perhaps he had killed Joey or paid someone else to do it. Micah’s heart began to pound with adrenaline. This might be just the break he needed to finally nab one of the Larson twins!
“Not especially,” Angelina said. “He pitched a fit when I told him I wasn’t interested in seeing him anymore. I don’t think he’s used to hearing the word no. But I walked away and he hasn’t bothered me since.”
That didn’t sound like Larson. He wasn’t one to take defeat easily, and Micah had to wonder if Evan had truly given up or was simply pretending to accept Angelina’s wishes. Now that Joey was dead, would Evan try to position himself as a shoulder to cry on so he could win her back?
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to read the text.
I’m ready. B
He typed out a quick reply and glanced at Angelina. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Thank you for speaking with me.”
She nodded and rose. “I just hope I was able to help.”
“You did,” Micah assured her. He retrieved one of his cards and passed it to her. “If you can think of anything else, or if Evan tries to contact you, please let me know.”
“Evan?” She sounded surprised. “Why do you think he would want to talk to me?”
Micah shrugged. “Call it a hunch. Now that you’re single, he might come knocking on your door.”
Angelina studied his card before placing it on the end table, next to her pile of tissues. “I doubt it, but I’ll let you know.”
She led them to the door, unlocking it so he and Chunk could leave. “Please let me know when you find out who did this,” she said quietly. She gripped the edge of the door, her eyes shiny with fresh tears. “It’s only been two days, but I miss him so much already.”
Micah’s heart went out to the woman. The grief he’d experienced when he thought he’d lost Bea had been almost unbearable. He couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be to know she was dead and he would never see her again.
He placed his hand on Angelina’s upper arm, patting her gently. “We’re working around the clock,” he said. “We’ll find the killer and make sure he pays for what he did to Joey.”
She nodded, her lips pressed together to form a thin line. “In the meantime,” he said, pausing in the hall. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She closed the door behind him, and he heard a snick as she flipped the locks back into place.
“Come on, partner,” he said to Chunk, tugging gently on the leash. They walked down the hall together and carefully navigated the stairs. Micah was still reeling at the revelation that Angelina had once dated Evan Larson, and he made a mental note to share that detail with the rest of the team as soon as possible. None of them had suspected the Larson brothers in the Groom Killer case, but perhaps they needed to reevaluate the evidence. Or maybe Larson had simply used the Groom Killer as a cover, staging Joey’s murder to throw suspicion off himself?
Anything was possible.
Micah helped Chunk into the backseat and climbed behind the wheel. His thoughts turned to Bea, and a sense of anticipation fizzed in his system, chasing away the vestiges of Angelina’s sadness that had followed him to the car. He felt sorry for the woman, but the best thing he could do for her was to catch the person who had killed Joey.
First, though, he had to pick up Bea.
He wasn’t used to splitting his priorities between his personal and professional life. For so long, he’d been focused solely on his job to the exclusion of anything else. But now that Bea was back, he couldn’t ignore the needs of his heart any longer.
The timing wasn’t ideal. He felt a little guilty because he was no longer giving the Groom Killer case his full attention. But he and Bea had already lost too many years. Micah wasn’t willing to pause the rebuilding of their relationship for even a second longer than necessary. Maybe he was just being selfish, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. For the first time in a long time, he was going to put his own needs first.
He had definitely earned the privilege.
Chapter 12
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Bea smiled and reached over to touch Micah’s arm, squeezing it gently in reassurance. “I’m fine,” she said, repeating herself for the third time in ten minutes. It was sweet of him to worry, but she really was at peace with everything that had happened.
“You say that now, but...” He sounded doubtful, as if he expected her to suddenly change her mind and burst into tears.
“Micah, the man is toxic. He’s not a father to me—he’s a selfish jerk who thinks he can control everyone. His actions caused me years of pain, and what’s more, he doesn’t care. That’s not something I’m willing to forgive or forget.”
“I know,” Micah said. But he didn’t sound convinced.
Bea suspected there was something else bothering him. “What’s really going on here?”
Micah stopped at a red light, then turned to face her. “I know your father isn’t a nice man. But I don’t want to come between you and your family. I don’t want you to feel like you need to defend me against them or that you have to pick sides.”
“I don’t,” she said simply. “Fenwick is the only one who has an issue with us being together, and that’s his problem to deal with, not mine. My siblings don’t care, and even if they did, this is my life. I’m not going to live it on someone else’s terms.”
Micah studied her, his green eyes warming. “Okay,” he said, nodding slightly.
“I trust you know your own mind on this. But promise me this—if things change and you decide you want a relationship with your father again, go for it. Don’t hesitate because you think it would hurt my feelings or make me upset.”
“All right.” That was an easy enough request.
The car behind them honked, making them both jump. She glanced out the windshield to find the light had turned green while they were talking. Micah turned his attention back to driving, steering them toward police headquarters.
“Why are you so worried about my interactions with him?” she asked. Given what her father had done to them both, she wanted to understand why Micah was so insistent she try to preserve a relationship with the man. He had just as much right to be angry with Fenwick, and yet he seemed more concerned with their father–daughter connection than his own emotions.
Micah let out a soft sigh. He didn’t respond right away, making Bea wonder if he’d heard the question. When he did speak, his voice was subdued.
“You know what my dad was like,” he said. “His only love was the bottle, which made things...difficult at home.”
Bea knew bits and pieces of what Micah’s life had been like when they were both in high school. But he’d always been careful to shield her from his father, never letting her meet him and making sure she never came to his house. Bea had thought he was simply ashamed of his dad—the man’s reputation was well known in Red Ridge—but now she wondered if there had been another reason for Micah’s actions.
Her stomach lurched as her thoughts turned in a dark direction. “Did he hurt you?” she whispered.
Micah shook his head, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. “Not physically,” he said. “But he was a mean drunk, and he lashed out at me and Mom a lot. And once Mom was gone...” He trailed off, and Bea’s heart broke as she filled in the details.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I wish I had known. Why didn’t you tell me?” She and Micah hadn’t been together when his mother had died—they’d started dating soon after—but he’d never given any indication of his troubles at home.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I didn’t want the things that happened at home to touch you. I wanted to have one thing in my life that was pure and untainted by my dad. You were my sanctuary. All you had to do was smile at me, and I forgot all about my father and the horrible things he said.”
Bea blinked back tears. “Oh, Micah...”
“My only regret is that Mom didn’t live to meet you. I know she would have loved you.”
“If she was anything like your aunt, she must have been amazing.”
“She was,” he said, smiling briefly. “Anyway, I never had a father who was interested in me. Even though he has his faults, your dad was a part of your life. I’d have given almost anything to have that, and I don’t want to you wake up one morning after he’s gone and mourn the time you could have had with him.”
Bea mulled over his words, surprised to find they made a certain amount of sense. Right now, her anger toward Fenwick was still paramount, but would that always be the case? Would she eventually come to consider him in a different light? She didn’t think she could ever forget what he’d done, but maybe the passage of time would soften the sharp edges of her feelings.
Micah pulled into the parking lot at police headquarters and found a shady spot. He killed the engine and turned to face her as they unbuckled their seat belts. “I’ll support you, no matter what you decide. I just want to make sure you’ve examined all the angles first. It’s very satisfying to act out of anger, but that’s not always the best choice.”
She nodded, appreciating his perspective. “You’re right. And while I can’t imagine changing my mind right now, I’ll try to stay open to the possibility that I’ll feel different in the future.”
“Thank you.”
She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “No, thank you. Having you around gives me balance.”
“Balance, huh?” He grabbed her arm and pulled her forward suddenly, causing her to fall into his lap. “Seems like you still need a little work in that department.”
Before she could respond, he framed her face with his hands and kissed her properly, his tongue dancing with hers in a way that sent shivers of pleasure down her spine. Bea threaded her hands through his thick hair and wriggled her way over the center console until she sat fully in his lap. She pressed her chest to his, loving the feel of his hard muscle against her curves.
One of Micah’s hands left her face to trail down her side. His touch was light over the fabric of her shirt, but her nerve endings flared to life nonetheless. She shifted in his lap, seeking greater access to his body. He let out a low groan and pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.
“I didn’t think that through,” he said, his voice husky. “I only meant to tease you, leave you wanting more.”
“That wasn’t very nice of you,” she replied, rocking forward a bit to move against the bulge in his pants. He gasped, then placed his hands on her hips to keep her from doing it again. She smiled down at him. “Payback,” she whispered, her lips curving in a seductive smile.
“I suppose I deserve it,” he said.
She decided to take pity on him and crawled back over the console to the passenger seat. “What’s your plan now?”
Micah cleared his throat. “We, uh, we wait a few minutes and head inside. I talked to Joey’s fiancée today and need to update the guys.”
The reminder of Joey’s murder snuffed out the last embers of Bea’s desire. She smoothed her hand over her shirt and hair, making sure everything was back in place. “Did you learn anything useful?”
“Maybe,” he replied. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, looking suddenly tired. “She didn’t know of anyone who might want to hurt Joey, but I found out she used to date Evan Larson.”
Bea frowned. She was slightly familiar with the Larson twins—they lived down the street from Fenwick—but she’d never actually met them. “I take it that’s important?”
Micah nodded. “It could be. We’ve known for a while that the Larson brothers are dirty, but they’re so slick we haven’t been able to gather enough evidence to make any charges stick.”
“Hmm...” She tilted her head to the side. “Do you think he might have killed Joey?”
“I don’t know if Evan is stupid enough to do the job himself,” Micah said. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if he paid someone to do it. That seems more his style.”
“So then, the Groom Killer isn’t involved after all?” The possibility filled her with a mixture of relief and concern. If the Groom Killer hadn’t been the one to assault her, then there was no need to worry that she was next on the list. But then, who had hurt her? And why?
“I’m not willing to say that yet. The MO was the same—shot in the chest, black cummerbund in the mouth, soon before the wedding. This whole Larson theory is still just conjecture, unless and until we find evidence suggesting otherwise. It’s possible the Larson brothers are somehow tied to the Groom Killer cases, but I don’t know for sure. We haven’t really examined that angle in the investigation, so it’s going to take a little digging to figure out if this is an actual lead or just a wild goose chase.”
Bea shook her head. The whole thing sounded complicated and frustrating, and she didn’t envy Micah his job. “I guess you need to get started. I’ll camp out in the break room while you work.”
“Thanks.” He cast a sidelong look at her, his lips curving in a smile that was wicked and filled with promise. “Rain check?”
Her stomach fluttered with anticipation. “Definitely.”
* * *
Micah caught sight of Brayden almost as soon as they walked into the squad room. “There you are!” Brayden said. He hung up the phone he’d had to his ear. “I was getting ready to call you.”
“W
hat’s up?” Micah’s interest sharpened—he might not be the only one with news. Had there been a break in the case?
“Ballistics report just came back,” Brayden said. He passed a file folder over and Micah glanced at it, not bothering to sit down. He was dimly aware of Bea and Chunk heading for the break room, but his focus was on the results of the forensic investigation.
“So, the same gun killed Joey and the witness who claimed to see Demi shoot a man in the alley,” he said.
“Looks that way,” Brayden confirmed.
Micah closed the folder and tapped the corner against his palm, gathering his thoughts. “No witnesses to the second murder or prints, though.”
Brayden shook his head. “Just like the other crime scenes. Whoever the killer is, they know what they’re doing.”
Which made it hard to believe this was the work of Demi Colton. Micah knew the woman was clever—as a bounty hunter, she had to be—but being street-smart didn’t necessarily translate into having the skills required to commit a string of murders without leaving behind any physical evidence—other than her necklace at the first crime scene. And that finding might not even be connected to the crime. Demi’s dad owned the Pour House, so it was possible she’d lost the necklace in the parking lot some time before the killing.
Chief Finn walked over to the pair of them. “Same gun?”
Micah nodded. The rest of the team gathered round, drifting closer to hear the latest. “Since everyone’s here,” Micah said, “I might as well fill you in on my progress.” He told them about his conversation with Angelina and his suspicions regarding Evan Larson.
“We hadn’t really considered the Teflon Twins as suspects,” Finn said. “Maybe we should?”
Brayden nodded. “It’s possible the other Groom Killer victims had ties to them, as well.”
