What We May Be: An MMF Romantic Mystery

by Layla Reyne

  Sweaty and panting, the three of them rested against the side of the table, Charlie recovering her voice first and nipping his earlobe. “Maybe don’t leave us alone if you don’t want to come back to trouble.”

  He twisted to steal a kiss. “This is the kind of trouble I like to come back to.”

  Trevor nuzzled the other side of his neck. “Did you say Bo-berry biscuits?”

  They were still laughing when a knock sounded against the motel room door. Charlie righted her head, gaze snapping to him, “Who—”

  The knock came again. “Sean, you in there? It’s Abel. Open up.”

  The lightness of a moment ago evaporated on a dime. Charlie’s eyes filled with the same foreboding that had haunted them all week, and Sean was walloped with a terrible sense of déjà vu. This could not be good.

  Trevor sensed their tension too, going rigid behind him. “Why’s Abel here?”

  Charlie began the process of untangling them. “We need to clean up and get dressed.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Sean brushed the hair out of his face. “Get us some towels.” As Trevor made a beeline for the bathroom, Sean called out to Abel. “Just a minute.” Sean darted forward, grabbing his shirt and jeans from where he’d dropped them. “He know you’re here?” he asked Charlie, who was likewise hastily gathering her and Trevor’s clothes.

  “Yeah, he knew I was still worried.” They caught the two towels Trevor tossed their way, wiped off, then began yanking on clothes as Trevor retreated into the bathroom with the clothes Charlie had handed him. “I told him I’d be here and that I’d keep Trevor here too. Though not necessarily like this.”

  “Look at it this way,” Sean said. “It saves him a trip.” His attempt at humor was forced as was his smirk, and both fell flat, doing nothing to lighten the tension.

  Once they were dressed, Sean opened the door. One look at the chief’s grim face and Sean knew what was coming. So did Charlie, given the sudden stiffness of her shoulders.

  Abel made no mention of the fact she was in his room, no remark about the rumpled bed behind them, and paid barely any notice to Trevor as he opened the bathroom door. All Abel’s attention was focused on Charlie. “There’s been another murder.”

  “Where?” Trevor asked, at the same time Charlie and Sean asked, “Who?”

  “The HU natatorium.”

  “Fuck.” Trevor raked a hand through his loose hair. “Ophelia.”

  Abel nodded.

  “Who?” Charlie asked again.

  He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he approached Charlie and grasped her shoulders. “Charlotte, you need to brace.”

  Sean’s stomach sank. This was bad, worse even than Julian. “Who is it, Abel?”

  “Craig Rowan,” he said, eyes still locked with Charlie’s. “They found him in the pool along with twelve dozen red roses.”

  “Stop the video, Charlie.” Sean meant it as an order, same as he had the last three times he’d given it.

  Charlie, sitting to his left on the fourth row of metal bleachers, ignored him, same as she had three times before, her index finger sliding the cursor back across the tablet screen and replaying the horrific death scene.

  With each viewing, Charlie’s pale skin blanched whiter, her eyes grew wider, and her body shook so badly the tablet wobbled on her knees.

  As wobbly as those cinder blocks had been in Craig Rowan’s lap.

  Yet she remained transfixed, unable to look away. Then again, Sean wasn’t sure which sight was worse: Craig’s nocturnal death tableau or his lifeless body lying on a stretcher in the light of day, next to the pool blanketed in red roses.

  Either sight was terrifying, both confirming what Charlie had suspected. What he had feared. This case wasn’t over, and the evidence pointed strongly to a connection to Charlie, Trevor, and the Henby family.

  “Charlie, stop the damn video and hand me the tablet.”

  When she still didn’t respond, he shot out a gloved hand and snatched the tablet from her grasp. He turned it off and placed it in the evidence bag Maggie had left at the end of the row. Snapping off his gloves, he turned back to Charlie and found her staring at her empty, shaking hands. He took one then the other in his own and rolled off her gloves.

  “How many people know?”

  “Know?” She seemed confused by his question.

  He rubbed her ice-cold hands between his, trying to ward off the shock and refocus her. “About what Craig did to you at that party.” Together with what he’d learned yesterday, Sean finally understood the hostility he’d witnessed between Charlie and Craig. And why Trevor hated him so much too. He was the root of so many tragedies, including those in the lives of the people Sean loved. Scooting closer, he squeezed Charlie’s hands, offering as much comfort as he could in a building full of cops and crime scene techs. “How many knew, Charlie?”

  Charlie curled her fingers around his, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. “I called Cal and Trevor that night. Trevor showed up. And the only other people I ever told were Abel, Annie, Maggie, and Rachel.” She blinked her eyes open, and the haunted look was still there but so were bone-tired weariness and lingering anger. “Craig talked, though. He told people we had sex that night even though we didn’t.”

  “Fucking bastard,” Sean cursed through clenched teeth.

  She swept a thumb across his palm, cooling his anger.

  “And the alumni party last year?” Sean asked.

  Another of Craig’s sins called out in the video.

  “Wasn’t in our jurisdiction,” Charlie answered. “With Thomas being Craig’s best friend…”

  “It was hushed up.”

  Charlie nodded. “And our killer knew about both.”

  Feeling her pulse quicken as her eyes drifted to the pool again, Sean tightened his grip on her hands. She needed something more to focus on, tangible police work to settle into, or else she’d spend all morning staring at those roses and imagining the worst. “Hand me your phone. Unlocked.” She dug the device out of her pocket, entered the passcode, and handed it over. He opened her notes app, then handed it back. “You need to make lists. Best you can remember, everyone who knows the truth about what happened at that party, everyone involved in the HU incident last year, and everyone who knows the truth about your mother’s death. Let’s see if there are any matches. In the meantime, I’ll follow the roses, and Marsh can hack the tablet.”

  “Follow the roses?”

  “That’s a lot of roses, even for red ones. Someone would notice a purchase that large.”

  “Charlie. Sean.” Abel called to them from where he stood with Officer Sylvan next to the evidence table at the end of the pool closest to them.

  “We’ll be right there,” Sean said before speaking quietly again to Charlie. “Take a minute to gather yourself.” He waited for her to nod, then stood and climbed down the bleachers, taking the tablet in its evidence bag with him.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Officer Sylvan said. “HU Administration has been ringing me from outside every five minutes for the past hour. I better go talk to them.”

  “Stall for now,” Abel said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Once he was out of earshot, Abel asked Sean, “How is she?”

  “Shaken but pulling it together. Just give her a minute.”

  He set the bagged tablet on the table next to two other evidence bags. One held the latest note—a slip of paper that read: #3 – SWEETS TO THE SWEET. The other bag contained an unmarked bottle of pills, likely the same pills that had drugged those cheerleaders and maybe Charlie too. All three items—the tablet, the note, and the pills—had been waiting for them on the starting block where Craig had taken his last breath. Politicians and their power trips. There was a certain irony to Craig being powerless in the end. Sean wondered what his constituents would think now, especially if that video was ever leaked.

  He looked back up at Abel. “What’ve you got?”

 
; “Just got off the phone with the marshals. Beth Martin was in a holding cell in Athens all night, and she’s been in their car since six this morning.”

  “Does she have any connection to Craig?”

  “None that we’ve found so far, but Jaylen and Diego are at the station digging.” And watching over Trevor. “Marsh is on it too.”

  He caught his friend’s worried glance from the top row of the bleachers on the other side of the pool. They’d exchanged only a few words on the car ride over. Marsh had read Sean’s anxiety the moment he’d opened his motel room door and wisely hadn’t pressed beyond questions about the case. The whole time, though, Marsh’s thumbs had beat a steady rhythm against the steering wheel, no doubt wondering why Trevor and Charlie had also exited his motel room. They’d get into that later. Right now, Sean’s immediate concern was keeping his family safe.

  “Once CSU logs that”—he nodded toward the bagged tablet—“Marsh gets it. If there’s something to be found, we need it before Beth arrives.”

  “I’ll go tell the techs to double time it,” Abel said.

  The clack of heels alerted him to Charlie’s approach. “Do you still think Beth’s involved?” she asked. “There’s no mention of her in any of Dad’s or Cal’s files, and other than being a colleague, Trevor didn’t know her either.”

  “It’s looking unlikely since she was in custody last night, but we can’t discount that she could be working with an accomplice.” It was a stretch, but it was all they had to go on. “We need to talk to Trevor again. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s clear this latest murder has something to do with your family. But we can’t deny our killer may also be doing this for Trevor. Jeff tried to railroad his tenure. Julian stole his wife. Craig almost cost him his baseball scholarship. You need to make your lists, have him look over them, and see if he can make any connections we’re missing.”

  Charlie’s phone vibrated in her hand, an alert lighting up the screen. “Shit, I’m supposed to be staking out Julian’s funeral in an hour. I told Annie—”

  “Go,” he said. “But not alone.”

  “I thought you wanted to talk to Trevor.”

  “I do.” He flagged down Marsh, who snapped his laptop shut and unfolded from his spot on the bleachers, slowly making his way down, his cowboy boots clattering. “Marsh will go with you.” Charlie started to object, but Sean gave her reasons not to. “One, he’s good backup. Two, he’ll be right there. Give him your list. He’ll start the cross-checks immediately. Three, he’s big enough to break up a brawl if things escalate again with you and Trace.”

  She chuckled weakly, but he’d take it.

  “We’ll get through this. I promise.” He lowered his head and kissed her, hard and fast. A firm press of his lips, enough to make his point but not enough to be indecent in front of others, including Marsh who cleared his throat behind them. “Sorry to interrupt you kids.”

  Sean glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, so I can start calling you old man now?”

  “You do and there will be consequences.”

  Charlie laughed, more strength to it than before.

  Sean was happy to keep needling Marsh if it kept her laughing. “Well, if you’re not too old to break up a catfight today—”

  “Hey!” Charlie shoved his chest and continued her mock offense by pointedly turning her back on him and addressing Marsh. “If you wouldn’t mind a return trip to the cemetery, I could use some backup.”

  “Happy to help.” Marsh grinned as he flicked his eyes at Sean. “Especially if it gets me away from that asshole.”

  Charlie snickered and Sean reached around her to slap his friend’s shoulder. “You’re a fucking riot. And just for that, one more thing on your to do list.” He snagged the evidence bag with the tablet, gestured to Abel, and when Abel gave him the thumbs up, handed it to Marsh. “I need you to dig into this. Anything you can find.”

  He glanced at the tablet, then back up, dark eyes dancing with mirth. “Too much to hope for porn?”

  Charlie’s laugh was music to his ears.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Trevor paced the length of the conference room for the—he’d lost count an hour ago—time. It had been multiple hours since Abel had dropped him off at the station, and while he appreciated Diego’s and Jaylen’s efforts to make him comfortable and keep him distracted, no amount of pastries or coffee, no amount of lifting weights in the gym, no amount of answering work emails and sending lesson plans to substitute lecturers was going to make him forget Abel’s words at the motel.

  “Craig Rowan… They found him in the pool along with twelve dozen red roses.”

  Christ, Charlie was right. This did have something to do with their family, and while she and Sean were out there being useful, he was stuck at the fucking station. The fact that he couldn’t be there for her, couldn’t tackle this with her like they had Cal’s letter, was maddening. Granted, Sean was with her, which was some comfort, but he wanted to be there too. The woman he loved, his best friend, was hurting, and he couldn’t be there for her.

  “So it’s your day to pace?”

  Trevor whipped around, surprised and dismayed to find Sean in the conference room doorway. Without Charlie. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Charlie?”

  Sean closed the door behind him. “Marsh is with her. She’s safe. They’re on their way to keep an eye on Julian’s funeral.”

  “Fuck.” He raked his hands through his hair, fisting it behind his neck. “That’s today? I didn’t send—”

  “Trev, no one expected you to send flowers.” Sean rounded the table, coming to his side and gently taking his hand. His thumbs smoothed a pattern over the back of his palm. “You need to take a breather.”

  “That’s what I’ve been doing all morning.”

  Sean shot him a judging glare. “No, you’ve been stewing.”

  “Because I don’t know what’s going on.” His gaze drifted over Sean’s shoulder in the direction of Charlie’s office, and he wished like hell she was in there, working too damn hard like always, running herself ragged trying to do all the things. Like going to Tracy’s funeral, even if it was in an official capacity. He should be the one doing that. He should be with her. “I need to be helping somehow.” He returned his gaze to Sean and gestured at the room around them. “More than this.”

  Sean spun out the closest chair and nudged Trevor into it. “I’ll catch you up.” He lowered himself into the adjacent chair. “Then I’ll tell you how you can help.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “No.” Sean talked over his curse. “But she’s distracted, at least for an hour or so, and Marsh is the best backup she could have besides me.”

  He jammed an index finger against the table in front of Sean. “Then why the fuck are you here?” He hated how accusing he sounded, how rough his voice was toward Sean, especially after last night, but his frustration needed an outlet, and Sean was there.

  He was strong enough to take it and knew Trevor well enough not to take offense. He scooted closer, a knee braced against Trevor’s under the table, an arm stretched across the back of his chair. “One, to check on you. How are you?”

  “A fucking mess,” Trevor admitted. No use mincing words. Sean had read him right from the second—

  Sean’s mouth pressed against his, lips rough and demanding, parting Trevor’s and coaxing his tongue to play. The gentle, playful, confident kiss silenced the rambling in Trevor’s head for a few blissful moments. “What was that for?” he asked as Sean drew back.

  “Because I wanted to. And because what I’m about to tell you isn’t going to make things any less messy.”

  Trevor eyed the hand Sean placed on his thigh. “You know I’m on to you and Charlie and this containment thing. How you box me in and minimize the damage when I’m upset. I’ve always been on to it.”

  “We do what we can for each other.” Sean smiled, tired but true. “That’s why it works, why we work.”

 
The last of the frustration gusts went out of Trevor’s sails and he slumped in his chair. He braced an elbow on the armrest and rested his head in his hand. “Get on with the messy part.”

  Sean ripped the Band-Aid off. “Craig was pushed off a starting block into the pool at HU. His hands and feet were bound, and cinder blocks were used to weigh him down.”

  Trevor closed his eyes. “Ophelia.”

  “The killer left a video. They made Craig confess his crimes before they pushed him off the block and into the water.”

  “And they knew about the party that night? That’s the basis for conspiracy?”

  “The video also describes a cover-up by Mayor Rowan and Coach Teller of several alleged date rapes at a New Year’s Eve party.”

  “Cheerleaders who were at an alumni party after the bowl game.” Trevor righted himself in the chair. “Nothing alleged about it.”

  “That’s what Charlie said.”

  “But it’s not just about Craig and Teller, is it? Abel mentioned the roses.”

  Sean withdrew his phone from his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and set it on the table in front of Trevor.

  One look at the picture—Craig’s body on a stretcher next to the pool of roses—and Trevor shot out a hand to flip the phone over. “Fuck, if I never have to see that again, it’d be too soon.” He propped both elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands, then plowed them through his hair when all he could see behind his closed eyelids was that same horrific sight.

  Sean’s hands on his thigh and back were the only things grounding him in the here and now, keeping him from falling into the abyss of nightmares. “How do we stop this?” He angled his face toward Sean and bit back his gasp at seeing the haunted look in Sean’s eyes. He’d been hiding it before, but it was clear now he was as terrified as Trevor, as Charlie also had to be. Trevor lowered an arm and wrapped a hand around the one still resting on his thigh. “Get to the how I can help part now, please.”

  “We need you to review Charlie’s lists and make similar lists of your own.”