by Morgan James
“Motive?”
I lifted a shoulder. “No fucking clue.”
Elbows braced on the arms of the chair, he steepled his fingers and peered at me. “What about the other guy—Coleman?”
“I don’t know anything about him. But he works with her every day,” I pointed out. “If he thought Kate had overheard something, it makes sense that he’d want to silence her. But if that was the case, wouldn’t he have tried something before now?”
“Hard to tell. Did either of you get a look at the shooter?”
I nodded. “Hoodie, ball cap, glasses—but it definitely wasn’t Coleman.” I’d looked him up on the website, and the doctor was older and more heavyset, while the gunman had been leaner, younger-looking.
Con looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Interesting.
“Something’s up with Raines, I just can’t figure out exactly what it is. His daughter works at our firm now, too. He said he wanted to “keep it in the family,” and it’s been... implied that my partnership is dependent on being with her.”
One nearly black eyebrow ratcheted toward his hairline. “He wants you to marry the girl to get a promotion?” I pressed my lips together into a firm line, and he snorted. “What the hell is this, 1950?”
“Things have felt... different over the past few weeks. He’s had a hair-trigger temper, been more of an asshole than usual.”
Shannon had actually avoided me like the plague since our run-in the day Kate had stopped by the office. I was relieved, and I prayed that she’d given up any dream of us being together. I couldn’t tell if Larry’s actions were driven out of a desire to do what he thought best for his little girl, or if he was trying to deflect attention from something else.
Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good. Larry was an asshole on the best of days, but he’d never been as preoccupied and eccentric as he had been recently. He obviously had something on his mind, or he was caught up in something he shouldn’t be. I didn’t believe it was a coincidence at all that his change in attitude had happened about the same time Kate overheard him arguing with Dr. Coleman.
His expression turned contemplative. “Could be embroiled in something.”
“Anything’s possible. That’s why I need you guys to check him out, see if you notice anything suspicious.”
“Didn’t you do some recon in your day too?” he asked with some mirth.
“I’ve been out of the game so long...” It did sound damn good though.
Con studied me from across the table. “I’m always looking for a good addition if you’re looking for a real job. Get you out of that courtroom.”
“Yeah, I hear ya,” I answered with a little shrug. “It pays the bills.”
“If you change your mind, I’ll make you a damn good offer.”
“I appreciate that.” I stood, and he followed suit, stretching one hand across the table to shake.
“Let me introduce you to the guys before you head out. Most of the guys are here today, with the exception of Vince Incarnato. He’s working security detail for Gemma Malone.”
I lifted a brow. “The singer?”
“That’s her.”
That was pretty impressive. I followed Con down the hall where he punched a code into a steel door, which opened with a beep. I gazed around the large room as we stepped inside, and my attention snagged on a couple familiar faces. Xander. Blake. Cole Thompson, and his brother, Clay.
Fuck.
My entire body went rigid, but I lifted my hand in greeting. Clay smirked at me from his spot, relaxed back in a chair, feet propped up on the desk.
Xander greeted me with a handshake, as did Blake and Cole. Con introduced me to two more guys, Jason Doyle and Dane Sullivan. Clay smiled lazily as he climbed to his feet. “How’s it goin’, pretty boy?”
I couldn’t help the contempt I felt for the man, but I schooled my expression. I didn’t know if he and Kate had ever actually been together, but it didn’t really matter at this point. I was rewarded by the fact that she was with me now and not him. “Fine.”
His gaze swept over me from head to toe, taking in my suit with no small amount of disdain, judging from the sneer on his face. He met my eyes, and his mouth twisted into a smirk. “How’s Kate?”
I fucking hated the sound of her name passing his lips, but I’d be damned if I ever let him see how much it got to me. I dredged up every ounce of control I possessed. “Got clipped by a bullet a couple days ago, if you want to know the truth.”
The snide look immediately fell away, replaced by a mixture of anger and concern. “What the fuck happened?”
I quirked a brow. “Guess you’re not close enough for her to tell you herself.”
“Don’t fuck with me.” He took a step toward me, and I lifted a brow as my shoulders tensed and my hands clenched into fists at my side. “Who the hell shot at her?”
Blake and Xander both straightened in the background, now standing at attention and watching with wary expressions.
“Don’t know.” I didn’t relax my stance as I tipped my head toward Con. “That’s what I hired him for.”
From my right, Con cleared his throat and shifted his focus to Clay. “I was going to assign this one to you, but not if you’re going to kill each other.”
Fucking awesome. Just what I needed, to deal with this asshole on top of everything else. Clay held my gaze for a long moment before I finally shook my head. “He’s fine.”
Clay’s eyes narrowed, filled with undisguised scorn and mistrust. I didn’t give a damn if he hated me. All that mattered was keeping Kate safe. “Do your job, and we won’t have a problem.”
Those hard amber-colored eyes held mine. “Take care of her.”
“Always.” My reply was curt, and we stared at each other for a long moment. Whatever he saw in my eyes must have reassured him, because he finally nodded.
I turned to Con. “Do you need anything else from me?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “We’ll run some of the info you gave us, then we’ll be in touch.”
Even though I knew she was safe, I was eager to get home to Kate. God only knew how long she’d be staying with me, and I didn’t want to waste a second of the time we had together. One way or the other, I was going to win her over again, no matter how long it took.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kate
Phil sent a warm smile my way as I stepped into the kitchen. “Good morning.”
I smiled in return. “Morning.”
From his place at the table, he nodded toward the coffeepot on the counter. “It’s fresh. I just made it about half an hour ago.”
“Great, thank you,” I said gratefully as I pulled a mug down from the cupboard. I stood at the counter as I sipped at the brew, waiting for the caffeine to send its familiar jolt of awareness through my veins. Feeling a little more awake, I sauntered to the table and took a seat across from Phil. The surface was scattered with various sections of newspaper, and he shoved them in my direction.
“I’m done with those if you want them.”
“Thanks,” I said. I wasn’t much of a newspaper reader, so instead I turned my gaze out the sliding door to the verdant view of the backyard. It rained yesterday, and I hadn’t gotten a chance to go outside. The backyard was well manicured, filled with flowering shrubs and bushes, and a picturesque little gazebo sat in the middle, practically calling to me. Maybe I’d try to dig up a book and go outside and read for a while. It’d been a long time since I had more than just a few moments to myself.
I set my cup on the table, and my gaze slid over the rim to the headline on one of the sections of newspaper. The word “remains” caught my attention, and I turned the paper around to read the article. According to the report, the second victim had now been identified as a 56-year-old male resident of a neighboring suburb.
“Did you see this?” I tapped the newspaper and Phil glanced up.
“I did. Damn shame.”
I pressed my lips togeth
er, thinking of the day I’d found Mr. Tripp in the cornfield just a few weeks ago. I wondered if the police had any leads yet and if this case was related. The article didn’t say as much, but I wasn’t surprised by that. No need to spark unnecessary panic if they didn’t absolutely have to. I glanced at the man’s name again, committing it to memory. Merrill Keane.
I shook my head and pushed the newspaper away. “I hate reading the news. It’s so depressing all the time.”
He nodded in commiseration. “There is so much evil in the world.”
Eager to change the topic, I focused on Phil. “How have you been feeling?”
He tipped his head from side to side. “Getting old, Doc. You know how it is.”
I couldn’t tell if he was brushing me off or not. I studied him. “Have you been taking it easy?”
Phil huffed a little laugh and set down the newspaper as he regarded me. “Are you kidding? My son won’t let me do more than lift a plate around here, like he thinks it’s going to break me.”
I offered a soft smile as I sat back in my seat. “That’s only because he cares about you. We both do.”
His dark, intelligent eyes met mine. “I appreciate that. It’s been nice having you around. I think you’re good for my boy. He’s used to being in charge all the time. It’s nice to see someone give him a run for his money. He’s always been a stubborn one.”
I barely managed to hold back a laugh. From what I’d witnessed over the past few days with the Price men, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. “We’ll see what happens,” I said smoothly.
I wasn’t ready to admit the possibility of a relationship with Gavin to myself, let alone anyone else. The last thing I wanted to do was get Phil’s hopes up. I genuinely liked the man, and I didn’t want him to be disappointed if things didn’t work out.
“What’s your plan for the day?”
He lifted an eyebrow at my change of subject but went along with it anyway. “Same as yesterday and the day before. I’ll probably watch some TV and relax.”
“I think that sounds like a good idea, actually,” I said. “I was thinking about doing some reading myself.”
We went our separate ways, and I found myself in the cute little gazebo half an hour later. I’d pilfered a thriller novel from Gavin’s office, but fifteen pages in, it still hadn’t grabbed my attention. It wasn’t the author’s fault; my attention kept drifting back to the newspaper article I’d read this morning.
Merrill Keane. I don’t know what it was that drove me, but I found I needed to know about the man. Maybe it was a sense of remorse at his loss, or guilt that we hadn’t been able to stop his murder. I closed the book then went inside. Gavin’s downstairs office has been converted into the spare bedroom for Phil, so Gavin had moved his computer and important files upstairs to his bedroom. He’d given me carte blanche to use whatever I wanted, and I picked up the laptop from his nightstand, confident that he wouldn’t care.
I googled the man’s name and sifted through several newspaper article accounts of what they supposed had happened. The exact cause of death was not disclosed, though the police suspected homicide. Apparently badly decomposed, his body had been found near Oak Creek—less than two miles from Hartwell Road where I’d found Mr. Tripp, and a little over a mile from where the third body had been recovered. On a map, they made a neat little triangle right around the small creek that coasted through the landscape.
Clicking out of the Dallas Repository’s webpage, I went back to the main search bar. Keane had several social media accounts, and curiosity prompted me to open them. In life, it seemed like Keane had enjoyed a good laugh. His page was filled with jokes and memes, and I couldn’t help but chuckle aloud as I scrolled down.
A photo at the bottom caught my attention, and I clicked on it to get a better look. Four men in fatigues smiled at the camera, and despite the grainy, blurry photo, I immediately recognized Keane’s face. Taken probably decades ago, he looked incredibly young and happy, his arm slung around another soldier’s shoulders.
I sat back in the chair, my eyes riveted to the photo. What reason would anyone have to kill Keane, or Tripp for that matter? Both had been military, but different branches. From what I gathered, they lived in different parts of the city, nearly thirty miles from each other.
I felt like I was missing something, but I wasn’t quite sure what. Keane and Tripp didn’t look the same, but that didn’t really mean anything. I didn’t know anything about modus operandi or victimology except what I’d learned in a criminal justice class I’d taken years ago. I knew it wasn’t my job to figure out who killed them—that was for the police—but I couldn’t help the curiosity driving me. I wanted it to make sense, and right now, there were so many unanswered questions. Could they have been saved, somehow?
With a sigh, I closed out of the browser and closed the lid of the laptop. A dull ache radiated from my shoulder, but the wound felt significantly better than it had the past couple days. Pushing out of my chair, I went in search of some ibuprofen to take the edge off. Within a few days, I figured I’d be almost back to normal, and I couldn’t wait to get back to work. I hated feeling useless and cooped up. I wasn’t even supposed to run, so I decided to take a walk around the subdivision.
It was sunny but scorching hot, and I returned to Gavin’s house, exhausted. Just as I was jumping into the shower, a text lit up my phone.
Gavin: I have another appointment after work, so I’ll be home late
Me: That’s fine
Gavin: I hate leaving you there all alone
Me: No worries. I’ll be fine with your dad
Gavin: You feeling better?
Me: Just took some ibuprofen, but it’s much better
Gavin: Good. I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you when I get home
I tossed my phone on the bed. Looked like it was going to be another long night alone. I should be grateful that he was giving me space, but I kind of missed his presence. Yeah, he was overbearing, but he was also sexy and funny and... sweet.
Damn it. I didn’t want to be falling for this man, but I was terrified that the way my heart plummeted in my chest meant exactly that.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gavin
I hadn’t mentioned it to Kate when I texted her earlier, but Con was already digging into Larry and had asked me to stop by at some point. I found myself once more in the lobby of Quentin Security after work. The same pretty little brunette behind the desk greeted me by name, then called Clay to let him know I was there.
A few moments later, the steel door swung open, and Thompson appeared. “Price.” He gave me a quick nod. “Come on in.”
I pushed off the counter and followed him through the doorway into the bullpen area I’d been in the last time I was here. Xander and Blake tipped their chin at me in greeting, and I offered one to the other men in the room.
Con stopped beside Clay’s desk and pulled up another chair. “I’d like to go over this with both of you.”
“Sure.”
Clay lifted an eyebrow as I slid into the seat, almost as if he were challenging me to request someone else. I honestly didn’t give a damn who was working it as long as we got some answers. Clay was just as good as anyone; the fucker was one of the smartest men I knew—he was just a complete asshole.
Ignoring Clay, I turned my attention to Con. “What did we find out?”
He lounged back in his chair and regarded me. “Doyle did a little digging on Larry Raines. He and Coleman go way back, apparently. Went to school together, were even roommates in college. Unfortunately, nothing suspicious. Finances, from what we can tell, appear to be in order.”
“That doesn’t eliminate the possibility of blackmail,” I pointed out. “Greed is a pretty damn good motivator.”
“It is,” Clay agreed. “So is hate.”
I tipped my head in question. “The argument?”
Con nodded almost imperceptibly. “What did Kate say she overheard again?”
“We may have the answer to that,” Clay said, taking over the conversation. “Raines’s primary residence is over on Waterton.”
I’d been there a couple times, several years ago when I’d first joined the firm. Larry liked to entertain and show off his wealth. “Yeah, I know it.”
“According to the records, he also has a small home on the opposite side of town.”
I contemplated all the possibilities. The most likely was that it was a rental, or he could have a little side piece he kept there. Wouldn’t be the first time it’d happened, and I couldn’t completely discount the theory. I shrugged. “Okay. That doesn’t tell us much.”
“Maybe not,” Clay agreed, “but I took it upon myself to scope the place out yesterday.”
I dropped my head back. “Jesus, Clay. Better hope to hell you don’t get caught. He’ll sue your ass for breach of privacy and anything else he can throw at you.”
He made a face like it didn’t matter one way or the other, and I rolled my eyes as he continued. “Do what you gotta do. Anyway, apparently Raines’s wife was living there up until two days ago.”
My brows drew together. So, no mistress then. “I’d heard rumors that they had a huge blowup sometime last year and that she wanted to leave him. I guess she did.”
“Not exactly.” Clay picked up a pencil and tapped the eraser on the desk. “There was a company there moving medical equipment out of the place. Hospital bed, machines, all kinds of stuff.”
“Okay...” I drew out the word, unsure exactly where the hell he was going with this. “So you think his wife is sick?”
Piercing golden eyes met mine. “Not sick—dead.”
I reeled back in surprise. “You’re shitting me, right?”
He never mentioned anything about Meredith being hospitalized or terminally ill. Jesus. Had he hurt her? The thought made me sick. But if he was capable of hurting Meredith, he was more than capable of hurting Kate, too, if he thought she was in the way.
