She grinned.
He looked at her out of those blue eyes—eyes the same shade as her own.
“What are you doing here?” Al had a hard time not worrying. Mick had lost weight while on medical leave—even though their mother had tried to keep him well fed. If anything, he was tougher, harder than he had been before he’d been shot.
“Riding herd on you. And Daviess.”
“You and I will talk later. I’m looking for Seb. Paige is around somewhere. And Mick…play nice, will you? It’s her first case back.”
He just grunted. There was an expression in his eyes she just wasn’t sure how to interpret. He and Paige were never going to get along.
Al had resigned herself to that a long time ago.
Chapter 9
Angela Heathers described a man who worked hard, adored his son, and treated his wife like a queen. A good man.
Paige wasn’t certain she believed such a paragon existed.
If it did, it might be Sebastian, her team leader. Malachi, Al’s big brother, was pretty darn close. Paige adored Mal Brockman, almost as much as she did his sister.
Their brother Mick, on the other hand, well…he was a different story.
She hadn’t seen him since the hospital after they’d nearly died. He hadn’t even been a target. He’d been collateral damage.
Mick had just been in the way.
Because a sociopath had wanted Paige and Jules. Mostly the killer had wanted revenge against Mal.
People could be so cruel to each other. She had never understood it, though she had lived through—or seen—more of that than most.
She entered the bullpen and stopped so abruptly Nugent almost ran into her back.
Mick was in the midst of the precinct, looming head and shoulders over practically everybody. Well, maybe not head and shoulders. But he was at least six and a half feet tall, and over three hundred pounds of solid muscle.
And scary. In ways Paige didn’t want to think about.
Why in the three hells of doom was Mick Brockman there?
She’d thought he was still on medical leave. She wasn’t ready to deal with Mick just yet.
“He won’t eat you,” someone said from behind her.
She turned. Sebastian was there. “He’s tried before.”
“Have you ever asked yourself why you set him off so much?”
Seb was good at making her ask the hard questions. It was more than a bit irritating. But he was a wonderful team leader, and more importantly, he adored her sister. He’d do anything for Carrie. “No. I try not to think about him unless I absolutely have to. Why is he here?”
Seb hesitated. “IA reviews. He’s making his stay in St. Louis here permanent.”
Lead settled in Paige’s stomach. Before the attacks against them, he’d been in St. Louis temporarily as a fill-in while Henry Brown’s wife was so ill. Why would he stay?
He was a Brockman. She supposed that was one reason. A good one. Brockmans were the sitcom-close-type family.
Paige just had Carrie, and now Sebastian. She’d once had a brother, but they’d been separated as children.
Maybe coming so close to dying had made Mick realize what he had with his family?
“He’s got issues with you. I suspect I know what they are, even if you don’t. But I’m not saying anything else. Whatever happens between you two happens between you two. Just remember I’m here if you want me to punch him in the nose.”
“Thanks. It’s appreciated.”
“Hey, the wife would want me to. It’s what a man does for family.”
She might not have a huge family, but she had Carrie. And through Carrie, this pseudo-big brother right in front of her. It mattered. “I’ll just avoid him.”
“Good. And while you’re doing that? Find out from the wife everyone Wade had contact with.”
“You think this is deliberate and not just a random robbery gone bad?” Paige had her theories, but she wanted to hear what Sebastian’s were before she voiced them. He was the profiler, not her.
“Random robbery out here? It’s not exactly accessible. And they weren’t high-profile targets. Solidly middle class, make enough to pay the bills each month and a few extra things. He had seven thousand in a savings account. That’s better than seventy percent of Americans. But is that enough to kill for? We’ve seen murder for less.”
Paige had seen an eleven-year-old boy die for a twenty-dollar bill when she’d been thirteen. His blood had soaked her shoes. She had tried to help him, but it had been far too late.
That was a hard lesson to forget.
People would kill. She’d learned that lesson early.
But… “Nothing was taken. Angela said that all of their valuables that were easily accessible were still there—in plain sight.”
“So we find the motive, we find the killer.”
“But what is that motive?”
“Let’s find out.”
Chapter 10
Sometimes, she had to just look at them to make certain they were still there. Neither Paige nor Mick would want to know that, so Al kept her feelings to herself.
She would never forget the horror of finding her big brother bleeding in the snow like she had.
She loved the big, grumpy butthead, and she always would. She just wished it had been any other IA agent sent to oversee this case.
For Paige’s sake.
Paige really didn’t need to deal with Mick right now. Not this first case back. Al would just have to go into protector mode, whether Paige liked it or not. She’d start by confronting the beast in the lair. “I know IA has others to do their bidding. What about Agent Dillon?”
The dark-haired woman was partnered with her brother more often than not. Al halfway liked her—despite the IA tacked on to Dillon’s creds. She was on the straight and narrow in a way Al appreciated.
“Dr. Dillon. She’s got her own assignment to worry about.”
“And you just happened to get this one?” She shot a significant look at Paige, who stood deep in conversation with Seb. “How did that happen?”
He shot her a look. “I asked.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“How is she?”
“Fine. Paige is far more resilient than people understand.” Al didn’t know all of her partner’s history, but she knew enough to know that it had been a miracle Paige had survived and made it this far. Paige was more of a survivor than she thought her friend knew. “But she’s also more vulnerable.”
He snorted, but there was something in his eyes.
Paige chose that moment to walk over to her. “Al, Seb wants us to reinterview Angela.”
Al didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her notepad and the small recorder. Everything PAVAD did was recorded. It had to be. “Let’s go.”
Al didn’t have to look back to know her brother watched them walk out. Well, he was watching Paige.
Mick always watched Paige. Al suspected he did it because he knew it made Paige nervous. Mick was perverse that way sometimes.
Angela was pacing around the interview room. She was wearing down. A harsh pang of sympathy for the woman went through her.
Those first moments of seeing Mick bleeding that day made her almost understand how this woman felt. Had she been a few minutes later, she would have found her brother dead.
Seeing someone you loved like that…Al never wanted to see that again. “Angela, have you eaten anything yet?”
She nodded. “Agent Therez brought me some lunch. When can I go? I need to see TJ. And…Wade’s mother keeps calling. Me, and my mother’s house. Demanding. Claiming she’s entitled to grandparent’s rights. Arguing, threatening to take him away in court.”
That was a strange thing to demand right now. Grandparents’ rights were not quite what people thought they were. And it varied from state to state. She wasn’t certain what Kentucky laws were. But she’d have Nugent find out. She�
�d seen people killed over visitation rights before. “Were Wade and his mother estranged?”
Angela nodded. “As much as it was possible to be in a town this size. TJ doesn’t know her at all. Wade wanted to keep it that way. I am cordial whenever I see her, but we don’t want her as a major part of our lives. And we’ve made that known to her—and my family. It was different with his youngest brother, though. Wade tries—tried—to stay involved in Troy’s life.”
“May we ask why? Did she and Wade have a lot of arguments?”
Angela shook her head lightly. “No. Not really. She is just…manipulative and needy. And cruel. Plays people in a way that neither Wade nor I feel—felt—is appropriate. Especially not for TJ to see.”
Al nodded. They’d look more closely into Wade’s family of course. But it was nice to have a place to start.
This didn’t feel random to her, but it didn’t feel like it was motivated by passion or rage, either.
It almost felt like an execution.
Chapter 11
One type of person Paige would probably never understand was mothers. Her own hadn’t exactly been a prize or a good example.
Unless it was as a good example of what not to do to win Mother of the Year.
Not that Paige had any intention of being a mother of any kind. She’d simply make do with spoiling Carrie and Sebastian’s kids rotten. Hopefully, her sister would have at least two for her to pamper.
But if she ever did have a child of her own, Paige would make certain she was a better mother than the one in front of her. If she ever had a child, that child would know he or she was loved. Period.
Wade Heathers’s mother and her own could have been twins. At least in the way they acted. Admittedly, Paige had been very young when she and Davie had been taken from her mother, but she remembered a few things.
The cold brown eyes, for one. The scent of stale cigarettes and booze.
The lack of genuine emotion and caring for anyone other than herself.
Of course, maybe Paige was projecting, but she didn’t think so.
The woman almost didn’t seem to care that her son was gone, or that her grandson had just lost his father. What seemed to matter to Wade Heathers’s mother was… Wade’s mother.
“How long this going to take? I need to pick up Ashley at the neighbor’s.” Mrs. Linsey sent a derisive look toward Al first, then gave Paige the once-over. Judging them. No surprise—they were judging her, too.
“Mrs. Linsey, can you tell us about your son? We need to find out everything we can about him,” Paige asked.
“Why? Wade wasn’t involved in anything illegal, I don’t think. He wouldn’t have the balls to be. Always did keep his nose out of anything exciting.”
And that was a bad thing? Paige resisted looking at Al to gauge her partner’s response. Not exactly what she would have expected from the mother of a murder victim. “We need to know a list of people he might have had contact with. It helps us build an idea of who Wade was.”
She snorted, then chewed on her unlit cigarette. When she pulled it away from her lips, it came away coated in pink lipstick.
This woman was as different from her son as she could be. Paige got it. Wade had most likely deliberately chosen that. She’d seen it before. He’d probably survived his childhood with this woman by dreaming about how his future would be.
“How close were you to your son?” Paige asked. Al’s phone beeped, and her partner excused herself quickly.
“Close enough to know that he owed me something.”
“Your son owed you money?” Paige latched on quickly. She was pushing, but this woman was not a grieving mother. Not at all.
She was too cold for that.
“Course, he did. But he didn’t see that. Him or that wife of his. Angela says this. Angela says that. That’s all I heard from him from the moment he met that woman. And TJ? Barely lets me see him at all. Once a year, unless I see them in town. Doesn’t stop Troy from coming out around that kid, though. But me? I’m not a good-enough grandmother like that damned mother of Angela’s.”
“Why is that?” She wouldn’t let her kid near a woman like this, either. But was that motive for this woman to commit murder?
“Says I’m not a good influence. He’s my damned grandson. I have every right to see him. I ought to fight her for grandparent’s rights or something now that Wade’s dead. I can do that now.” A malicious glint entered the woman’s eyes. One that told Paige exactly what kind of person she was. And that she was going to make a lot of trouble for Angela in the coming months. “She’s not much of a mother. Telling Wade of all sorts of wrong ideas where TJ is concerned.”
This woman would have a hard time convincing a court that seeing her would be in the best interests of Angela and Wade’s son.
“Like what?”
“He belongs in a real school. With other kids his age. None of this online shit. He’s going to turn out weird, isolated out there like that. Getting big ideas that the world’s different than what it is. That he’s too smart for around here. He needs to be in school. Show him he’s not that much of a big shot.”
“I’m sure Wade and Angela have made the best decision for TJ that they could. Can you think of anyone else who might have had a problem with Wade or Angela?”
“No. But then again, I’m not good enough to even know who their friends are, am I?”
Honestly, Paige wanted to tell her exactly what she thought. But Paige was a professional.
She controlled herself. Barely.
When she was finished with the interview, she met Al outside in the bullpen. Deputy Carroll was not-so subtly grilling Al on what they knew so far. No doubt he’d go running to everyone he could to claim he’d found it. And still blaming Wade’s wife.
Pitiful.
Mick was there, too, standing next to his sister—glowering. Just glowering in general. Paige almost hesitated before approaching them.
Paige wasn’t about to stand back and cower. She was there to do a job, and she was going to.
Al caught her eye.
Paige pulled in a breath and stepped closer.
“Anything else?” Al asked, softly.
Paige shook her head. “Nothing much. Mr. Heathers and his mother were mostly estranged. She doesn’t know anything about his friends, his movements, or his day-to-day routine. Wade’s choice.”
Deputy Carroll snorted. “I could have told you that.”
“Then why didn’t you? You need to quit wasting everyone’s time and resources.” Mick rumbled at him. Paige shot him a look. Had Mick just said that? “Daviess? Anything probative?”
Mick was supposed to be seen, not heard. Observing.
Paige stepped closer. She didn’t want to be overheard. She had learned a long time ago that bullpens weren’t exactly secure. Not every cop could be trusted to keep his or her mouth shut. She filled them in quickly, mindful of what she said in front of the deputy.
Something about him just made her skin crawl.
Chapter 12
Paige was keeping something back. Al knew it just by looking at her friend’s face. She knew Paige that well. She also knew that Paige wasn’t about to spill what was going on in that convoluted head of hers until she felt safe to do so.
That meant away from Deputy Disgusting-and-Demanding. Carroll made no bones about how he felt with her and Paige running things in the field.
Al understood the signals. Five minutes later, she and Paige reconvened in the ladies’ room. Deputy Disgusting couldn’t follow them there.
“Creepoid,” Paige said.
“Understatement.” Al turned on both faucets to drown out what they were about to discuss. She pressed her back against the door, while gripping the handle in one hand. “So spill.”
“Mother is no prize—that’s for sure. If she wanted something from her son, I can see her killing him. But she’d be stupid about it. Probably with witnesses, and a smo
king gun.”
“Did she give you anything?”
“No. She doesn’t like the wife, didn’t much like her son. Doesn’t agree with their life—or their parenting choices—and thinks they owe her something. But did she shoot him face-to-face? No.”
“Back to square one, then. I say we start at the very beginning and toss Deputy Disgusting to Sebastian to deal with.”
“Seb will love us for it.”
“I don’t think this was related to anything Wade Heathers did, Al.”
“What makes you think that?” Al tended to work off skills and training, but Paige…Paige went by her instincts. And she wasn’t often wrong. Her partner had a gift. “I’m still leaning toward a random burglary gone bad.”
“The wife. She genuinely has no idea of any enemies this man may have had. And they were together all the time. She had access to his computer, his bank accounts, even his social media. They were completely transparent with each other. Has Nugent found anything yet?”
Al shook her head. “He’s still looking. But there’s nothing there out of the ordinary. He doesn’t even play online games with in-purchase apps. He’s clean. The craziest thing Wade Heathers ever did was make some really bad calls on his fantasy baseball team last year.”
Paige nodded. “No rush to judgments, but was he exactly what he seemed to be?”
Al’s mind ran over exactly what they knew so far. “Maybe.”
“Then why did someone shoot him four times in the chest with a .38?”
“If it was a random thing, it’s rather coincidental that the killer struck during what amounts to the only twenty minutes each week this man was completely alone.” Al knew most people couldn’t comprehend the idea of a family being together so often, but she did. “Is it possible someone was watching them?”
She lived with both her brothers, after all. And her brother Mal’s wife and daughter. Someone was almost always in and out of their house.
The Heathers were a work-at-home, school-at-home extremely close family. They spent ninety-nine percent of their time together.
#0004 White Out Page 3