“Maybe she wasn’t the one who did it,” Eli said, but his attention wasn’t on her. It was on the front door, and she followed his gaze to the man who’d just stepped in.
Remy.
She wanted to ask why Remy, or anyone else for that matter, would do something like that, but Remy spotted them, too, and he made a beeline toward them.
Ashlyn stood, steeling herself up for what would no doubt be an onslaught of anger fueled by grief. Until today, she’d understood that, but now she looked at Remy as someone who might have tried to murder Eli and her.
Had he actually done that?
She studied him as he stormed closer. Tall with black hair and dark brown eyes. Attractive in a bad-boy sort of way. A way that had certainly appealed to Marta. Even after Marta had turned her life around and gone straight, she’d kept that thing she had for bad boys.
“I don’t appreciate getting a threat about being arrested.” Remy aimed that snarl at Eli. “My lawyer still hasn’t shown up.”
“Then get him here right now because you’ve had more than enough time,” Eli fired back, and his snarl was harder than Remy’s. “We’ve got questions, and you’re going to give us those answers.”
Remy flickered an annoyed glance at Ashlyn. This time, she saw the blame he sent her way. Blame for what Remy saw as her part in not preventing Marta’s death. Or at least that’s what she thought it was, but maybe it was all an act. Because maybe Marta wasn’t actually dead.
“Yeah, yeah,” Remy grumbled to Eli once his gaze was back on him. “Somebody tried to off you, and you’re looking to pin it on me.”
“I’m looking for the truth,” Eli assured him. “I heard you inherited some money, and once your lawyer’s here, I’ll want to ask you some questions about how you might have used those funds. After all, hired guns cost big bucks.”
Remy gave him an arctic stare. “I didn’t do that, and you’ve got no proof that I did.”
Eli lifted his shoulder. “I’ll be pressing you more about that—again when your lawyer gets here. And after you’ve cleared up that matter, I’ll want to know if you helped Marta fake her death.”
Remy had already turned to leave, but that stopped him in his tracks. “What did you say?”
“You lawyered up,” Eli reminded him, and yes, there was some cocky smugness in his tone and expression. “I can’t talk to you about that until he or she gets here.”
Remy’s glare vanished, replaced by some confusion. He frantically shook his head. “Marta faked her death?” That certainly didn’t seem like old news to him. His eyes were wide now, and his mouth was slightly open.
“You lawyered up,” Eli repeated.
“To hell with the lawyer.” Remy practically knocked into her when he rushed toward the desk where Eli was standing. “Is Marta alive?” He volleyed glances at all three of them while he repeated the question.
“Are you waiving your right to counsel?” Kellan clarified.
“Yes!” Remy snapped. “Now tell me about Marta.”
Kellan read the man his rights first, and with each word of the Miranda warning, Remy’s impatience skyrocketed. “Is she alive?” Remy shouted.
“We don’t know. That’s the truth,” Eli added when Remy looked ready to yell again. “Someone stole her records and murdered the mortician who handled her remains. Tell me what you know about that.”
Remy dropped back a step, and he pressed his hand to his chest. “Nothing. I don’t know anything about it.” He dragged in some rough breaths, and his gaze slashed to Ashlyn. “You saw her dead. You told me you saw her dead.”
“I did.” Of course, now Ashlyn had to wonder if what she’d seen was true.
“I felt for a pulse,” Eli went on, “and she didn’t have one. Marta was dead at the scene. I’d bet my badge on that.”
Remy shook his head. “But what about the missing records? What about the dead mortician? Does that mean someone wanted to cover up that she’s actually alive?”
“No,” Eli quickly answered. “They could be just smoke screens.” He paused a heartbeat. “Tell me about the disagreement you had with Marta’s family about where she was to be buried.”
Remy blinked, obviously not expecting that to come up. “Uh, her dad, Gus, wanted to bury her in Oklahoma. I wanted her buried in San Antonio so I could visit her grave. Marta would have wanted that, too,” Remy quickly clarified, “but Gus wouldn’t bend. He put her in the ground in a place she didn’t want to be.”
Some of the shock was gone now, and in its place was some venom and bitterness.
“Did that rile you enough to play mind games?” Eli pressed. “Mind games that include getting back at Ashlyn and me?”
Remy’s eyes were narrowed when they came back to Eli. “No. I told you I didn’t try to kill you. Even though you both deserve it,” he added in a grumble. “You let Marta die in that alley, and now you’re on a witch hunt to add more misery to my life.”
“No witch hunt,” Eli tried to assure him, but Remy interrupted him.
“Was it one of you who broke in to my house?” Remy demanded.
Ashlyn sighed. “No,” she insisted, but Eli only tapped his badge to remind Remy that he was the law, not the criminal.
Remy didn’t look as if he believed them. “Well, somebody broke in night before last and stole my laptop and cell phone. I got a new phone with the same number, but I didn’t have all my computer files backed up online.”
That got her attention. Eli had said the mortician’s computer and files had been stolen, too. She didn’t know the timing of that, but she had to wonder if it was connected to the break-in at Remy’s. Of course, Remy could be lying about that.
“Now you demand I come in for questioning and tell me stuff about Marta,” Remy went on. “What the hell am I supposed to think?” But he waved that off. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll wait for my lawyer. I won’t say anything else until he gets here.”
“Suit yourself.” Kellan tipped his head toward the hall. “Come with me. You can wait in the interview room.”
Ashlyn watched them leave and waited until they were out of sight before she turned to Eli. “You believe him?” she asked.
Eli rubbed his hand over his forehead. “I’m not sure. He hates both of us, and I don’t know how far he’d take that hate.”
Neither did she. But maybe they could find out. “I can call some of Marta’s old friends and find out if they’ve noticed anything off about Remy. I’ll need my cell phone for that, though, because it has the contact numbers. It’s still at my house. I didn’t bring it with me when I went looking for Cora.”
He nodded. “Calling her friends is a good idea, but don’t mention the fake death theory to any of them just yet. I want to talk to Marta’s dad first.”
Just hearing that caused her stomach to twist. Unlike Remy, Marta’s father hadn’t held the anger and hatred for them, but he had been torn up by his daughter’s murder. She doubted that grief had gone away even after all these months.
“The CSIs are done processing our houses,” Eli told her. “I got word about that right after I left the observation room.” His gaze came to hers. Lingering. And reminding her of what had happened between them there.
A hug.
She might be able to convince herself it had only been that. Might. But she couldn’t do much convincing with Eli giving her that smoldering look.
Ashlyn cleared her throat, glanced away. “I’ll need to drop by my house and check on my horses and the ones I board. I could get my cell phone and some of my things while I’m there.” She paused, gave that some thought. Actually, a lot of thought. “I don’t feel comfortable taking Cora back there just yet.”
“Because you’re smart, that’s why. It’s not safe. If there are more hired guns, your house and mine would be the first places they’d go. I’ll take you to your house
later today. With backup,” he emphasized. “It’ll have to be a quick in and out, and we won’t be taking Cora with us. She can stay at Jack’s with Gloria and a couple of the deputies.”
Good. She hated the idea of leaving her baby, but she would hate it even more if Cora was with them during another attack. And Eli was right. If there were other gunmen, her house would be a prime target.
“I’ll call Gus now,” Eli said, taking out his phone.
With her breath held, she watched as Eli located Gus Seaver’s number, and after he put his phone on speaker, he tried the call. No answer. When it went to voice mail, Eli left a message for the man to contact him. Eli had barely finished it when Gunnar stepped through the door.
“Remy’s lawyer is here,” Gunnar said, “and so is a guy named Oscar Cronin. He wants to see you. He says he’s a friend of Leon Taggart.”
Eli and she exchanged surprised glances. She definitely hadn’t expected Oscar to come to them, though she was certain Eli would have gotten around to getting in touch with the man.
“Check Oscar for weapons,” Eli instructed, causing her heart rate to spike. She hadn’t considered that he’d come here to attack them, but she should have. She should be thinking worst-case scenario right now so she could make sure Cora stayed safe.
“Move over here,” Eli told her after Gunnar had left, and he motioned for her to come behind the desk. Once she’d done that, he positioned himself in front of her, and he put his hand on the gun in his holster.
Maybe it was Eli’s stance, but it caused the wiry, gray-haired man to come to a stop in the doorway. She’d never met Oscar, but as Ashlyn studied him, she realized she’d seen him in court when Leon had entered his plea before the judge. Oscar was about the same age as Leon, late forties, but he was a good foot shorter than Leon. She’d always thought Leon looked like a criminal. Oscar certainly didn’t, and his pale complexion and the cough that rattled in his chest made her think that he might not be in the best of health.
“Sergeant Slater. Miss Darrow,” he greeted, and it wasn’t a question. Obviously, he recognized them, too. “I heard about the trouble y’all had last night and figured you’d want to talk to me.”
Eli just stared at him, and even though Ashlyn couldn’t see Eli’s face, she was betting one of his eyebrows was raised. “Why, did you have something to do with that?”
Oscar gave a dry smile, shook his head. “Dominick called me early this morning and said he intended to mention me in an interview. I thought I’d save you the trouble by coming here and letting you know I didn’t try to kill either one of you.”
Normally, Ashlyn would have liked his direct approach, but she wasn’t about to trust this man. “How do you know Dominick?” she asked.
“That’s just it—I don’t. He called me out of the blue, claimed he was looking into your background, and he wanted to know if I could tell him anything.”
“Anything?” Eli snapped. “What specifically?”
“Didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. That’s because I told him I didn’t know Miss Darrow. Or you,” he added to Eli. “Because he asked about you, too.”
Ashlyn wanted to groan. Dominick was digging for dirt, probably so he could find something to use against her in a custody fight, and he would have gone to Oscar because of his connection to Marta and Leon.
“I figure this Dominick might be trying to set me up for something,” Oscar went on. He coughed again. “I mean, why else would he call me and say he was going to mention me in an interview with a cop and Texas Ranger?”
“Good question,” Eli said. “Why do you think Dominick would do that?”
Oscar lifted his shoulder. “I’m an easy target. I’m dying,” Oscar added without any change in his tone. “Lung cancer. I’m home alone a lot with no alibis. Maybe someone like Dominick wants to do something bad—like go after the two of you—and then blame me for it. Whatever he’s up to, I’m thinking it’s no good.”
Ashlyn thought the same thing. However, she could see this from a different angle. Leon and Oscar were friends, and maybe with Oscar dying, he wouldn’t mind doing his old friend a favor by getting back at the two people who helped put him behind bars.
“I heard the deputy say that Remy’s lawyer was here,” Oscar went on. “I guess it doesn’t surprise me that Remy would be a suspect in this, too.”
“You know Remy?” Eli asked.
“Of course. And Marta,” he readily admitted. Then he paused. “I’ve been hearing things lately. Rumors. They’ve got to be rumors,” Oscar added as if talking to himself.
Eli kept his attention nailed to the man. “What have you heard?”
Oscar opened his mouth. Closed it. And he seemed to reconsider what he’d been about to say. “Leon’s no threat to anybody. The man doesn’t have a nickel to his name. But there could be other folks out there, drug dealers, who might not be pleased that Marta was tattling on them to the cops.”
Everything inside Ashlyn went still. “What are you talking about?”
“Marta.” That’s all Oscar said for several long moments. “The rumors I’ve heard are that she’s alive, that she faked her death to hide out from some of those dealers who might want her dead for real. If that’s true, give her some advice from me. She’d better stay dead.”
Chapter Eight
There was a whole lot of information—and questions—going through Eli’s head. He’d thought that being at Jack’s house would help him process all of it since it was quieter here than it’d been at the sheriff’s office. But the processing just kept circling back to one of the questions.
Was Marta actually alive?
If she was, did that have anything to do with the attack and the mortician’s murder?
No matter how it circled and mentally played out, Eli just couldn’t see Marta faking her death and letting everyone believe she’d been murdered. Nor could he see Marta killing anyone, but maybe someone had done it on her behalf. Someone like Remy, who wanted to protect her from drug dealers who might come after her if they found out she was alive. But Remy had looked shocked when Eli had brought up the possibility of Marta surviving the shooting.
Real shock.
It was hard to fake that. Then again, the surprise could have been simply because Remy hadn’t expected Eli to know anything about it.
While standing by the kitchen table, Eli drank more coffee, studied his notes on his laptop and then glanced at his phone. He considered giving Marta’s father another call, but before he could do that, Ashlyn came into the kitchen. She looked exhausted with her pale face, heavy-lidded eyes and rumpled hair. Those were the first things he noticed. The second thing that snagged his attention was that despite the fatigue, she looked good.
Hell.
He might as well hit his head against the wall a couple of times. He’d known that hug in the observation room was a mistake, but Eli hadn’t counted on it lighting a couple more fires that shouldn’t be lit.
She glanced at Gunnar, who was grabbing a catnap on the sofa. “Cora’s finally asleep,” she whispered to Eli. She went to the fridge and got a bottle of water. “Gloria’s with her.”
Not a surprise, since Gloria hadn’t left the baby’s side since they’d arrived. That was good, and Eli hoped the woman continued to be okay with that arrangement since she might be there for a while.
“I’ll text Owen and tell him to come so he can stay here while Gunnar, you and I go out to your place,” Eli offered, and he fired off the message. “Or if you’re having second thoughts about going, I can get the things you need and bring them to you. You could make a list.”
She shook her head. “I want to make sure the horses are okay.” Then she paused. “I want to make sure I’m okay, too. I need to be able to go back there, to prove to myself that I can do it.”
Eli understood that. It was akin to getting back on a horse that’d jus
t thrown you. But the horse wasn’t going to hire gunmen to kill you.
“It’s my home,” Ashlyn added as if she needed to convince him, but it sounded as if she was actually trying to convince herself. “If I can’t stay there, then...well, it changes everything.”
Yeah. She’d have to sell the house and land that’d been in her family for a couple of generations. She would have to give up her livelihood, too, at least until she found another place big enough for the horses.
He hadn’t thought it possible, but Ashlyn now looked even more exhausted than she had when she’d first come into the kitchen. Eli wished there was something he could do to help with that. Of course, his stupid body came up with a few bad suggestions, but he shoved them aside. Holding and kissing her wasn’t going to help.
“You scowl whenever I’m around,” she said, and Ashlyn reached up and touched her fingers to the muscles that were bunched up there.
Eli probably should have just blown that off and gotten the conversation back on the right track. He could do that easily by telling her the bits and pieces of info he’d learned about the investigation. But apparently, this was going to be the day his brain joined the other stupid parts of him.
“Naked thoughts,” he admitted.
Her eyebrow rose. “Of us.” Now she got some color when she blushed. “Of us in your truck,” she continued without waiting for him to say anything. “It’s firm in my memory because you were my first. That creates a strange intimacy. A connection. No matter what happens afterward, it stays with a woman.”
“It stays with a man, too.” Apparently, the stupidity was just going to keep on coming from him.
The corner of her mouth lifted for a quick smile. “I wasn’t your first,” she pointed out.
He nearly blurted out that some were more memorable than others. Ashlyn had definitely been memorable. But he’d filled his dumb things to say quota for the day.
“Losing you was hard,” she went on. “Then, hating you for Marta...” She stopped, waved it off.
Settling an Old Score Page 7
