“What’s the occasion this time?” I asked.
“Follow-up.”
I faced him then, my guard rising. “Of?”
“You.” He licked his lips and I hated that I followed the movement of the tip of his tongue.
My, how I’d imagined that tongue sliding elsewhere… I inhaled for a calm breath, unused to being so easily out of control because of another person. “Can you be more specific?”
He simply stared at me like he wanted to smile.
I crossed my arms. “The light-blue-nightie-intrigued-in-me sort of follow-up, or—”
“Is that a possibility? You in a nightie, for me?” Now, he pushed off the wall and stood closer. Near enough not to intimidate but to befuddle me with his masculine scent.
“Not…now.” Because he couldn’t get involved with someone involved in the investigation, right? And I’d only tried on that nightgown. I was more of a sleep-in-nothing-but-panties sort of girl anyway. If he needed some kind of a sexy striptease dance, he was barking up the wrong tree.
“But another day?” he asked.
The hopeful lightness in his eyes softened me. I shrugged. I wasn’t going to put myself out there and actually say I wanted him. I wasn’t patient enough, for one thing. Today wasn’t the day to confess anything. There were more pressing matters, despite how easily he veered off-track with me.
“Follow-up of what, officer?”
He pouted his full lips and rumbled a noise. “Oooh, don’t tease.”
Dammit. I’d emphasized his title as a reminder of the business between us! “I’m not.”
He nodded, and I respected that he always acknowledged and retreated when he’d pushed me to my limit. He’d only play as long as I permitted him to. “Follow-up on the murder of Marlena Ridge.”
I licked my lips, tapping my fingers on my doorknob. Follow-up of what, though? What could he need from me? They already verified I hadn’t handled the gun nor could I have been anywhere to obtain it. I didn’t kill her and I doubted he owed me some kind of personal delivery of updates to the case. “Do you…want to come in?”
He sighed. “How about we go get some food instead?”
“As a date?”
“If this were a date, you’d—”
I held up a hand. “You said no teasing.”
He grinned. “Just food and a chat. I missed breakfast.”
“It’s almost four!”
With a shrug, he brushed against my shoulder as we walked past me. “Then, come on, already.”
I got into the cruiser with Knox and we stopped at the station long enough for him to change out of his uniform and get his personal vehicle. That business done, we soon sat across from one another at an unhealthy diner.
With the taut muscles and no hint of fat on his body—the parts visible while he was in uniform or casual clothes—it seemed Knox might be the kind of dude to watch his diet and survive on protein shakes and bland chicken breasts over even blander rice. He’d chosen the place though, and he’d chosen wickedly. Just looking at the burger the server set in front of me had my heart triple-pacing, anticipating clogging an artery or five. And what a glorious consumption I bet it’d be.
“Oh…yeah.” He eyed his food like it was a plate of divine sin and dug in.
It took a moment to shake the image of him eyeing me like that.
“Maybe you shouldn’t skip meals,” I chided as I tasted mine.
Then again…oh…my…gawd. Was it the bacon? Three cheeses? It was a damned fine greasy excellence.
He shrugged and after he swallowed, he said, “Too busy with work.”
“With Marlena’s death?”
He frowned with his burger just before his lips and then lowered it. “Yeah.”
I waved at him, dismissing him. “Go on, go on. Eat. We’ll talk after.”
His grin disappeared as he took another bite. I almost tuned out his growling sounds of approval. They were noises I’d much rather feel against me, with his mouth on me.
Stop already, woman…
Once he was finished and I was almost too stuffed to finish, he wiped his mouth and explained. “I was at the station all day chasing leads from Marlena’s homicide. And I stayed overtime yesterday because of the calls in about Seth. Since he was a suspect in Marlena’s case, I was asked to handle picking him up, otherwise, I would have had a normal day and not a long one.”
I swallowed a bite of food before chewing it enough and coughed on the impulsive action. “Wait. He was a suspect? A real one?”
“I’m not exactly privy to share details of the case with you.”
I glared at him. “Because I’m a suspect as well?”
“No. You never were. You’re just…involved.”
I smacked my hands to the table. “No, I’m not!”
He twitched his lips, as though choosing his words and then shook his head. “Yeah, you are. Somehow. Maybe you can help me figure it out.”
“Figure out what?” I already told them I had no clue how or why that gun showed up at my place.
He leaned closer, stretching one hand out on the table toward me. In his other hand, he propped his chin up and kept his elbow on the table. “Why were you paying Marlena thirteen hundred dollars every other week?”
My jaw dropped as I stared at him. “Huh?”
“Thirteen hundred dollars.”
I held on to my frown but shut my mouth. “What about Thirteen hundred dollars?”
“You withdrew that amount and directly deposited it into Marlena’s bank account every other Wednesday. Since…” He sat back and shifted in his seat. Then he reached toward his waist and pulled up a small notepad. “Every other Wednesday since August fifth.”
I shook my head. I had no idea how to process this.
“We had a couple guys check Marlena’s finances. Well, both the Ridges’. And this stood out. Direct payments to Marlena, like a scheduled arrangement, from a bank account opened by a Tabbott at your residence.”
I reared back in my booth until I hit the cushion and threw the napkin I had clenched in my hand to the tabletop. “Well, I don’t see how that’s possible. I don’t think I’ve ever had thirteen hundred dollars in my bank account at any given time.”
“What bank account is that?”
I told him the name of the online banking institution.
He shook his head. “This account is under the name of J. Tabbott, but at another bank.”
“I only have one account.” A laugh escaped. This was asinine and it didn’t pain me to admit it. “I’m not rolling in dough to warrant having more than one bank account! If you haven’t noticed, I kinda live paycheck to paycheck, all right? I don’t have spare money to give out. And if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t be charitable to her.”
I slapped my lips shut. Okay. I didn’t need to be so vocal about disliking her. She was recently murdered and it seemed I was under some degree of suspicion. Still, this was insane.
Someone was giving Marlena thirteen hundred dollars every other week? Why? Blackmail? Payment for services?
Knox traced the edge of the notepad on the table but kept his gaze on me. “You had no idea this account existed?”
“No!” I ran my hand through my hair and frowned at him. “But how could I? I never set it up.”
“Simple. Someone else must have.”
I gaped at him again. “That’s…that’s…”
“That would be fraud.” He nodded. “Anyone could attempt to set up an account. With an email address and Social Security number…”
“What’s the email linked to this account?”
He read it off and I shook my head. “Never heard of it.”
“We have a couple of tech guys tracing it all. Besides these withdrawals you claim no knowledge of, there are consistently scheduled deposits into it. Once a month, it seems, and it’s been tricky following that route as well.”
“I just don’t…I don’t get it.”
“Me neither.” He
offered me a gentle smile, maybe something like a wince, and asked, “Is there any way Damon could be involved in this?”
“He’s in jail!”
He held his hands up. “I know. But can you think of anyone else who might have been able to have or provide all the information needed to set up a bank account under your name?”
He had me there. I sat still, frowning and silent, musing it over. Damon knew my Social Security number, and my address, obviously. But why? And to whom would he give those personal details before he was imprisoned?
I shook my head again and then thunked my forehead to the tabletop. Just as suddenly, I sat back up. “He’d have that information, yeah. But I don’t get why.”
Knox nodded. “I suggest you contact the bank and report fraud, then.” He flipped through his notepad and ripped out a sheet of paper with scrawled numbers and names on it.
I took it and slipped it in my pocket. “Thanks.”
“Why were you so alarmed that Seth might have been named a suspect?” he asked, seeming to want to change topics from this bank stuff.
“I wasn’t alarmed. It’s just that you said I wasn’t a suspect yesterday, yet you warned me to stay put.”
“Standard procedure.”
“Oh, sure.”
“It is.”
“Well, am I a suspect now because of this bank account and payments to Marlena?”
He frowned, as though not liking the connection. “Not necessarily. In my reports, you’re not.” He folded his large fingers together and looked me straight in the eye. “Did you kill Marlena?”
“No!”
He shushed me and waved his hand, gesturing to lower my voice.
I cleared my throat.
“Do you know who did?”
“N-o.”
I shouldn’t have hesitated. He quirked a brow and I wanted to whimper. Dammit.
“Do you have an idea who might have killed her?”
I grimaced. “Isn’t that your job? To find out who did?”
“I’m not on the clock. I’m just asking as a…friend.”
I rolled my eyes and looked anywhere but at him. “Oh. We’re friends now.”
“I’d like to be your friend.”
And more? I mentally slapped myself. A friend would be nice. I hadn’t made many since moving here. That was too long ago.
“And as your friend, I’m worried about you.”
“Because I found Marlena dead?”
He shook his head and reached for my hand but halted and pulled his hand back, like thinking twice. “Because if you didn’t kill her, and if you aren’t complicated in this murder, it seems to me someone’s framing it on you.”
The yummy dinner I’d just consumed churned angrily in my tensed stomach. He sure hit the nail on the head.
“First, the gun left at your place. Blatantly left there.”
I nodded and crossed my arms. Yeah. It was obvious. Just plopped it on the table. Maybe they’d broken in so I’d call the cops and they’d find it.
“Then this bank account and payments to Marlena.”
I tightened my hug around my torso. Yep. Pointing a big, fat finger at me.
“So, as a concerned friend, I’ll ask you again. Do you have an idea who might have killed her?”
I gnawed on my lips and weakened under his serious stare. It was intense, not like the hot smolder, but a firm lock on my gaze that I wavered. Well, I broke completely. For the next good while, I rambled and spilled all my beans. I told him about what Garth said. I recapped what I’d learned from him and Jackson about Seth being reported by Marlena. I pointed out how Garth overheard Marlena threatening to tell on Seth. Finally, I elaborated on how much Garth seemed to hate his own wife.
“It might be that he’s showing his grief with anger. Lots of people say things they don’t think out when they’re faced with a death in the family.”
Knox probably had a point but my mind was made up. Garth was likely glad to be rid of Marlena. I’d seen the resentment in his scowl at the food court.
Knox drummed his fingers on the tabletop and tilted his head at me. “So, Harry Fenner and Garth Ridge are enemies because of a lottery win years ago?”
I nodded. “And Marlena. She was mad about not getting half of the winnings.”
He scoffed. “Therefore, another person who’d be Marlena’s enemy. Who didn’t hate that woman?”
“Did the Ridges and Fenners ever have disputes or lawsuits with each other?”
Rubbing at his chin, he said, “No. Not that I could find. First thing Jackson did when Marlena was identified was pull up her rap sheet.”
“Yeah? What was on that?”
He grinned at me and I blushed. All right, maybe I was being nosy here.
“Nothing much, and nothing against or because of the Fenners. She might have been a pain in the ass who liked to talk up a bunch of crap, but it seems that’s all she was. Talk.” With another moment of massaging his face, he said, “You said Damon dated the girl?”
“Bianca Fenner.” I recalled the outspoken, easily bored girl with cotton-candy-colored hair. “He was with her just before he broke into the Ridges’ apartment, before you arrested him.”
“Given her parents’…feud with the Ridges, maybe she told him to go for their place to rob.”
I considered it, playing along with this bit of devil’s advocate. “Maybe. But Damon’s buddy was the one who’d called the shots.”
“True.”
“Damon did knock her up. That’s something else.”
“Huh. Did she keep the kid?”
I nodded. “I think she named him Zeus.”
“Still thinking about dessert?” the server asked for the fourth time that night.
“Nah. We’re about to head out,” Knox answered.
“You said that a half-hour ago.” The brunette deadpanned at him. Because of her snippy tone, I glanced past her. Most of the diner’s lights were out and restaurant staff were mopping near the kitchen and wiping down counters.
“Whoops. Sorry. I didn’t realize you guys were closing.” I started to scoot out of my booth.
“Oh,” Knox said, edging out as well.
“Yeah.” The server huffed. “No surprise. A bomb coulda went off and you wouldn’t notice.”
I frowned at the teenager’s back as she strutted away.
“Guess we got carried away talking,” Knox admitted, tugging his coat on.
“A little. But, hey, that reminds me. I was wondering…”
He smiled and took my coat. Holding it open for me, I fumbled. Such manners. It was hard to get used to.
“Come on. Before someone else comes over here to kick us out.” Then he winked.
I stepped back and slid my arms in my sleeves. “How come no one heard the gunshots in the mall?”
“They used a silencer.”
I craned my neck to look at him. He said it so certainly. “How do you know?”
“Because it was still on the firearm when we found it in your apartment. That was one of the reasons I guessed it was the one used on her, because it had a suppressor. I could explain the science behind a ballistic report, but it’d take a good few minutes.”
Or a few hours. I was embarrassingly ignorant of weapons and ammo and all things illegal. Odd, given my nephew was a criminal, but it showed how much I tried to stay on a straight path in life.
We exited the diner and hurried to Knox’s Jeep. Winds weren’t as whippingly harsh tonight, but snow was still falling and temperatures were still freezing. Huddled over ourselves in his vehicle, we rubbed our hands together and waited for the heat to kick on.
“I really should get an automatic starter,” he muttered.
“That’d be nice.”
He laughed once. “I never needed them back home. But up here I do.”
“Where’s home?”
“Miami.”
“Whaaat? Why would you move from Miami to Missouri?”
He shrugged. “I was
engaged and she relocated here for a job. Then left me as soon as we bought our house.”
“Ouch.”
“Nah. She wasn’t good for me.” He set the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m guessing I’m taking you home?”
“Where else is there?”
He set his hand on my thigh and it wasn’t an uncomfortable weight. Well, a little awkward—for me. It would have been more satisfying a little higher up and over.
You horny little girl. I rolled my eyes at myself, facing the window.
“My place?”
I smiled. “I do give you credit for persistence.”
He squeezed my leg once and removed his hand.
Bummer. But I wasn’t giving him the impression I was onboard with him. He couldn’t read my mind, after all. He wasn’t privy to knowing I’d…well, gotten over myself and that silly grudge.
“Isn’t it frowned upon to get close to suspects?”
“You’re not one.”
“Or involved with people of interest? Whatever I am. I thought law enforcement was supposed to not get personally involved with their cases.” There had to be a term for it. At least, that was what it seemed like in the movies.
“Yes, to a degree. I’m not inviting you over just to sleep with you.”
I turned to face him fully, admiring the cut of shadows on his lean face in the flexing darkness of the car. It would be so easy to imagine him in another dark setting, like his bedroom, where he’d be a big, powerful predator catching me in the night. I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Then for what?”
“Peace of mind. Knowing you’re not in an apartment with shitty security.”
“I told you I’m not a damsel in distress.”
He shifted and I rocked with the change of gears. “No, but I can’t shake the feeling you’re tied into all this, whether you want to be or not.”
Framed. Ever since he’d spoken the words that my conscience had whispered in my head, it felt heavy. More serious now. This wasn’t an issue of finding Marlena’s killer. This was a matter of staying out of the way while someone was intent on accusing me of murder.
“I know you’re stubborn, but you can’t be dismissing this, right? You’re smarter than that.”
Not So Merry Murder Page 7
