Deadly Silence

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “Okay.” Zara opened a manila file, looking ready to get to work and solve all the mysteries in her life. “Have fun with Brock.”

  Chapter

  23

  Well into the afternoon, Zara straightened her shoulders and walked into the small conference room with her notepad in hand.

  Brock glanced up from a stack of papers spread out on the mahogany table.

  Jay Pentley looked at her from the head of the table, no expression on his face. Dark circles marred his eyes, and scruff covered his jaw. Even his button-down shirt appeared wrinkled and tired. “What happened to your jaw?” he asked.

  “Tripped on my front steps,” she said, drawing out a chair to sit.

  Brock sat back and gazed from the new bruise on her jaw to the older one right below her eye. He blinked several times, glanced at Jay, and then obviously decided to have a chat with her later. “We’re trying to go through the police report from Julie’s murder as well as trace her steps.”

  Jay pushed his chair away from the table. “Excuse me for a minute. Restroom is down the left hall?”

  Brock nodded. The second Jay left, Brock quickly texted something on his phone. “What happened to your jaw?” he asked Zara.

  “I told you. Nothing.” Zara crossed her arms. They engaged in a small staring contest, and heat soon filled her face.

  Ryker strode into the room and slipped his phone into his back pocket. “You texted me?”

  Brock frowned. “Yes, but now I’m wondering just how long you’ve been in town, Ryker.” He glanced at the bruises on Zara’s face, his lips pressing into a white line.

  Ryker eyed Zara and then crossed to take the chair opposite the one Jay had vacated. “I arrived in town after the bruise on her cheek but before the one on her jaw,” he said without an ounce of discernable sarcasm.

  Brock narrowed his gaze. “Did you hit her?”

  “Of course not,” Zara burst out. “Geez, Brock.”

  “No.” Ryker sat back.

  Brock looked from one to the other of them. “If you did hit her, I’m coming after you myself.”

  Zara snapped her lips shut. While he was coming from a point of sweetness and friendship, the guy was way out of line. He’d made a couple of nice moves on her to go to dinner, but she had to keep her professional and personal lives separate. Then Ryker had entered her life, and she could no longer even think of another man. “Brock. For goodness’ sake. Ryker did not hit me.”

  “Then who did?” Red bloomed in Brock’s wide face. He made a strangled sound as he took in Ryker’s bruised knuckles. “I’m calling the cops.” Reaching for his phone, he held out his other hand when Zara began to protest. “This isn’t okay, Zara. The evidence is on his hands as plain as day.”

  Panic heated her lungs. Things were getting way out of control. “Jay hit me,” she blurted out.

  Brock stopped mid-dial. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m so sorry.” Zara clasped her hands together. If Brock called the police, too much could go wrong. “Julie was my friend, and she needed help. Jay beat the heck out of her, but there wasn’t any proof, and I just lent her money until she could get a settlement.”

  Brock studied her and then slowly set his phone down. He put his lawyer face back into place. “Go on.”

  “Julie stayed at different motels around town, and I took her money and clothes out on Route 27 last week. Jay was there, and they were fighting. He punched her in the face, and I jumped in.” Zara rubbed the almost faded bruise along her cheekbone.

  Jay strode back into the room, his usual gait lurching. He stopped by his chair and looked around, his body stiffening at the obvious tension. “What?”

  “Zara just told me about the altercation and that you’re a wife beater,” Brock snapped.

  “That’s slander.” Jay retook his seat, his face flushing. “I believe it’s also malpractice and a whole shitload of other stuff.” He glared at Brock. “Your paralegal shared privileged information with the opposition. I have quite the case against you.”

  “Did you hit her?” Brock asked, his voice hoarse.

  “No. It’s her word against mine.” Jay put on his mayor expression. “I’m the victim here.”

  “You’re about to be,” Ryker said evenly.

  Jay paled. “I admit Julie and I got into a scuffle, but she hit me first. Then your employee jumped in, swinging while also violating attorney-client privilege. Everyone had better settle down, or I’m calling another attorney to sue your asses.”

  Brock pinched the bridge of his nose. “Zara? Did you reveal privileged information?”

  “Of course she didn’t,” Ryker answered for her. “However, the fact that she did see Jay physically abuse Julie is relevant, don’t you think? Especially since Julie is now dead.”

  “I didn’t kill Julie,” Jay spat, his tone heated. Emotion swirled in his eyes. He drew a shaky hand through his thick hair. “I can’t imagine anybody killing Julie.”

  No. Just beating the snot out of her.

  Jay looked at Ryker’s hands. “Zara committed malpractice for the firm, violated privilege, and then sent her boyfriend to rough me up at the office.”

  Brock coughed and swung his head to Ryker, completely losing the professional look. “You did what?” His voice had risen at least two octaves on the last.

  Ryker bobbed his head to the side. “I can see how this might upset you, Brock.”

  “You think so?” Brock shoved back from the table and swung his hands out. “You’re all assholes. Jay? We’ve been friends for decades. Did you really beat your wife?”

  “No. There was only that one scuffle,” Jay said smoothly. “Things were contentious during the divorce, but before that, and before Julie got all depressed and started self-medicating, we were happy.”

  Ryker lifted an eyebrow at Zara.

  She cleared her throat. “That’s not what Julie told me.”

  “Yeah, but you and Julie just started talking recently. Did she reach out for help at any time before the divorce?” Brock asked.

  “No.” Zara shook her head. “We lost touch.” Guilt hunched her shoulders. Why hadn’t she made more time to keep her friendship active? Could Jay be telling the truth? She’d seen people get totally out of control during a divorce, and maybe Julie had been exaggerating. Zara had driven up just as the two had been scuffling by the door, and she had jumped in.

  Jay breathed out and tapped his fingers on the table. “Listen. We’ve all screwed up. I shouldn’t have fought with Julie, Zara shouldn’t have helped the opposition on a case, and Ryker shouldn’t have butted his knuckles in. Let’s everybody just forget it and concentrate on finding out who killed Julie.”

  There was the reasonable guy Zara had dated. She should feel awkward about that, but with all the real-life emergencies happening around her, she couldn’t summon up the emotion. Thank goodness she hadn’t slept with him. “I agree,” she said.

  Brock plastered his palm against his forehead. “If you’d like to find another firm to represent you, I can help you choose.”

  “No. Let’s all just move on here together.” Jay steepled his hands, looking every bit the politician.

  Relief flowed through Zara, although she no doubt would have a chat with Brock later. He could still fire her for putting him and the law firm in such jeopardy. Had she misjudged Jay? There had to have been something decent in him for her to like in the first place, right?

  What if Jay was actually telling the truth about Julie? Had she been on drugs?

  Ryker leaned back. “Just so we’re clear, Mayor. Clean slate as of now. If you ever even remotely lift a hand to a woman, I’m going to snap it off.”

  Jay cut him a look and then focused on Zara. “You could do better.”

  Ryker huffed out a breath. “People keep saying that.”

  Zara bit her lip. A part of her was starting to enjoy Ryker’s protectiveness, and she wondered if that was all right. It seemed all right. Perhaps it was time to get
back to business. “Where are we on the investigation?”

  Brock spun a picture toward her. “I have a friend in the sheriff’s office, and I got most of the file. Julie was stabbed fifteen times in the neck and chest. She didn’t have a chance.”

  Nausea rolled through Zara’s belly as she looked at the picture. Blood covered Julie’s entire body, and even some bones could be seen. God, her poor friend. The fear and pain she must’ve felt. “Any suspects?” She tried to keep her voice from shaking.

  “Right now me,” Jay said. “They always look at the husband first.”

  “I’m tracing all of Julie’s credit cards and phone calls from her cell,” Ryker said. “Should have more information for you by tomorrow noonish.” His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. “Zara? A moment, please.” Without waiting for an answer, he pushed away from the table and pulled out her chair.

  She fumbled and then stood. Her breath heated. She followed him outside the conference room. “What? Is it Greg? Is he okay?” The kid should’ve come to work with her. Her knees bunched with a desperate need to run and get him.

  “The police are at your house,” Ryker whispered. “Denver heard the call come in on the scanner.”

  “The police?” The hallway spun around her. “What I mean, why?”

  “Dunno. Our best move is to meet them there and see what’s up.” He poked his head back inside the conference room. “I need to follow up a lead, and Zara’s coming along to assist.” He shut the door before Brock could respond. “Let’s go.”

  Zara followed Ryker woodenly through the office, her mind going blank. One of her neighbors must’ve seen the break-in. What if they’d also seen Ryker kidnap the attacker? What was she going to do? Should they run? Her breath panted out.

  They walked outside to the truck and drove in silence through town, both lost in their own thoughts.

  “If I tell you to run, then do it,” Ryker said quietly.

  “Where?” She turned on him in the Hummer. “Where exactly am I supposed to run?”

  “My apartment. It’s listed under a dummy corporation and can’t be traced to Lost Bastards or me. Or anybody else for that matter.” He swung into her neighborhood.

  “Who are you hiding from?” she whispered.

  He glanced at her, his eyes shuttering closed. “It doesn’t matter. The past doesn’t matter for us, baby. It can’t.”

  Yet that’s what seemed to drive him, now, didn’t it? “Why won’t you level with me, let me into your world?” She needed to know who to fear. Or rather, who to fight.

  He sighed. “You are in my world. I promise. The past is just that and only that. Well, except for Greg.” Ryker turned toward her, his gaze somber. “Greg wants us to find a woman who knew Denver, Heath, and me as kids. She was a scientist, and she studied us.”

  “But, well, how?” Zara shook her head. “How does that make any sense?”

  “It doesn’t. I mean, my mind goes places about it, but everywhere I go seems too bizarre to contemplate.” Ryker turned down another snowy road.

  She needed to tread lightly, but finally…some answers. “Is this because you’re, well, a little different? Did this scientist study you because of that?”

  Ryker stiffened and kept his gaze on the road outside. Darkness had already begun to descend. “Different?”

  “Yes,” she said softly. “Not in a bad way or anything. But you definitely have some gifts not everybody has. Your hearing is unbelievable, as is your strength. And don’t get me started on your instincts in finding missing people. Remember when we interviewed the wife of that accountant my firm hired you to find?”

  “Yeah.” His fingers tightened on the wheel.

  “You knew she was lying. Somehow you completely knew, and it wasn’t easy to tell. Then you started guessing at facts that there’s no way you could’ve known.” Zara had gone over it in her head so many times, she remembered the day clearly. “Maybe you’re just good at reading people and can guess well from their reactions, but, Ryker, there’s something a little bit more about you.”

  His nostrils flared as he breathed in. “Okay.”

  She stopped moving. “Okay?”

  “Yeah.” He breathed. “I don’t understand it, but I’ve always had a few skills that are out of the norm. The scientist—we think her name is really Isobel Madison. She said that Heath, Denver, and I had high IQs, and she wanted to study us both mentally and physically.”

  Zara warmed to the subject. “Well, that makes sense, right? A higher IQ might give you a few abilities that have developed more than most people.”

  “I guess.” His frown looked like it hurt his forehead.

  “So this woman, whoever she is, studies people with higher IQs. Greg is definitely smart, so it fits. But how did Greg find you?”

  “He found us on the web and went through all our files, figuring out that we could find lost people when nobody else could. He wants to find Isobel in order to find his brothers, who were also studied by her.” Ryker’s upper lip twisted.

  Zara leaned back and tipped her head to look up at the ceiling of the truck. “It’s an odd coincidence, though. You, Heath, and Denver being at the same orphanage way back when.”

  “According to Greg, it’s no coincidence.” Ryker slowed the truck as her house came into view.

  Two police cars blocked the driveway, and uniformed cops were beginning to move down the sidewalk. A forensics van was parked half on the street and half on her lawn.

  “What in the world?” Zara jumped out of the truck.

  “Zara, wait.” Ryker pulled to the curb, stopped the engine, and barreled out of the truck in one smooth motion. He reached her and grabbed her arm, halting her on the snow-covered driveway. “Calm. Let me handle this.”

  Detective Norton came out the front door, took one look at her, and reached for his phone to bark something. Finishing, he stomped down the walkway, his boots scattering snow. “Just canceled a BOLO on you, Ms. Remington.”

  She faltered. “A BOLO? I don’t understand.”

  The detective paused and scrutinized her. “What happened to your jaw?”

  “Ah.” She rubbed the bruise along her jawline.

  “Mr. Jones? I’d like you to come down to the station to answer a few questions,” Detective Norton said, his gaze hard.

  Zara sighed. “Ryker didn’t hit me.” Why did everyone keep suspecting the poor guy?

  “Then who did? And while you’re at it, please explain what happened here. Your door is busted, and your living room appears as if a large altercation took place.” The detective blocked her way to the house.

  She sighed. “I got carried away the other night exercising, and frankly, I don’t owe you an explanation. Please leave my premises, as you don’t have a warrant to search.” Yeah, that was right. She thought. Maybe?

  The detective slowly lifted his head. “We were called in about a possible kidnapping. There’s blood in your kitchen. I could see it through the open doorway, thus I don’t need a warrant.”

  She blinked. So he had probable cause to search? She was a paralegal, not a lawyer, so she wasn’t sure. Could she lie to him? Since it wasn’t a federal case, she could lie, but would that be hindering an investigation? It wasn’t illegal to lie, yet if the lie led to obstruction, then it could become a problem. What the heck should she do?

  Two weeks ago the answer would’ve been clear: Tell the truth to the police. Now? Now she had to protect Ryker and Greg. God, things had changed. The feeling of responsibility weighed down her shoulders, and yet she’d never felt so alive. She had people who mattered to take care of, and she could do it. She would to it. “I cut my hand, so now you can go,” she said evenly.

  Several techs walked out carrying brown boxes of evidence. Her heart sank. Would they be able to identify the guy Ryker had kidnapped? If they did, would he tell the truth?

  Snow swirled down, and she blinked it from her eyelashes. “Who called you, anyway?”

  The d
oor to her neighbor’s house opened, and Detective Norton nodded toward the porch.

  “Grams?” Zara whispered.

  Her grandmother gave a happy cry and rushed off the porch, her sensible galoshes scattering wet snow as she ran across the lawn. A bright pink scarf protected her white curls, and a long green coat covered her tiny body. Snow matted against her thick glasses. “Zara.” She barreled into Zara’s arms for a rose-scented hug.

  Zara returned the hug, careful of her Grams’s delicate bones, and then leaned back. “I thought your trip ended next week?”

  “Yes.” Grams waved red nails in the chilly air. “Florence got caught doing the nasty with that retired grocer from Missoula. Well, his wife joined us for the second part of the tour, and things just went to hell. So I came home.”

  Zara snapped her head in a quick shake and held tight to the one person who’d always loved her. “Florence?”

  “Yes. Those hormone pills make her horny.” Grams shook her head and looked up at Zara. “Anyway, I came over, saw the mess, and immediately called the cops.”

  “I’m fine,” Zara croaked out. She had to protect this frail woman at all costs.

  Grams partially turned and then fluttered her eyelashes. “I do hope you’re Ryker.”

  A smile played around Ryker’s full mouth. “I am.”

  “Yep. I would’ve bought new undies for you, too.” Grams smiled big.

  Chapter

  24

  Ryker tried to ignore the elderly woman in the backseat of the truck, but it was difficult, considering her face was right next to his. She perched her hands and head over the seat like a colorful bird. He had no clue how to deal with old ladies.

  “You even smell good,” she purred.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Remington.”

  “Call me Grams, Ryker. Everybody does.”

  Grams? He shifted in his seat. What would it be like to have a Grams? Looked like he was about to find out. As a lonely and scared kid, he’d wanted family members to provide warmth. A grandmother was almost too much of a dream. “Please put your seat belt on, Mrs. Grams.” If they were in a wreck, her little bones would snap. He had to protect her now, too.