“I know.”
A van and two other vehicles pulled up next to the house, and Hunter stepped back. “CSU’s here.”
She nodded. “All right.”
Chad stepped out of the house and Hunter met him halfway between the front door and the ambulance. “What are you doing here?”
Chad shrugged. “I was bored.”
Anger swelled up in Hunter’s chest, and with effort, he shoved it down. “Bored, huh?” He swallowed the words he would regret if he let them pass his lips. “I see. Well, how did you know to come to the Wickhams’?”
“Christine may have mentioned you planned on questioning them this morning.”
Hunter nodded and gazed at the house. “This is my case, Chad. I don’t need you messing with it.”
Hurt crossed his brother’s face and Hunter wondered if it was real or affected. Chad said, “Thanks, bro. I try to support you and this is what I get?”
Drop it, he ordered himself. He sighed. “You look good, Chad. Glad to see you back on the job.”
A grin that most ladies couldn’t resist replaced the hurt. “Yeah. It feels good.”
“What brought on this change?”
A nonchalant shrug, but his eyes were on Alexia. “It was time.”
Alexia watched the action in the room. Katie ignored her as she discussed the case with Chad and Hunter.
When CSU arrived, Hunter and Chad filled them in. Finally, the two brothers were distracted. Alexia walked up to Katie and asked, “What do you know about Dominic?”
Katie simply looked at her. “What do you care?”
“I care, okay? Is he all right?”
The detective shrugged. “I guess. Last time I heard from him.”
“When was that?” Alexia gritted her teeth. What she wanted to do was grab the woman and give her a good shaking until everything she knew spilled out of her.
“About three years ago, okay?”
“No, not okay. Where was he? What was he doing?”
“I don’t know. He called to check on your mother. I haven’t heard from him since.” She clicked her pen shut. “Now, are you done with the questions? I’ve got a case to solve.”
“Wait.” She placed a hand on the detective’s arm. “Please. Did he say anything about our father? Did he—” she swallowed—“did he ask about me?”
“No. To both questions.”
Hunter turned back to Alexia, his eyes darting between his partner and the woman he was falling for. Something had just gone on with them and he wondered what it was. He walked up to Alexia. “Are you ready to go home?”
Yes. “No. I need to go to the hospital to see my mother. She’s already called me like five times since I stumbled on the Wickhams. I need to see what she wants. I also need to tell her about Devin—and now, his parents.”
“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
“I can take you if you want.” Chad’s voice rang between them.
Alexia looked surprised. “Well thanks, I appreciate that. But I have my car here, remember?”
“Sure, no problem.” Chad gave another one-shouldered shrug, but Hunter thought it looked forced. As did the smile.
She looked at Hunter. “I want to talk to you about what you learned this morning when you talked to Marcie Freeman.”
He nodded. “I’ll meet you at Serena’s house. You can drop your car there, and I’ll drive you to the hospital to visit your mother.”
“Okay. Give me a little time. I—” she looked at the house that contained the crime scene and shuddered—“need a shower.” Alexia turned and walked to her car.
Hunter noticed Chad’s eyes following her until she climbed in. Then Chad looked back at Hunter and gave an odd little smile.
“What?” Hunter frowned at him.
“May the best man win.”
26
Thursday, 11:42 a.m.
Back at Serena’s house, Alexia took a long, hot shower and thought about the incidents of the morning. She couldn’t believe Devin’s father was dead and his mother close to it. Who had wanted them dead and why? Sheer coincidence that they were attacked so soon after their son was murdered? No, she wasn’t buying that one. There had to be a connection. But what? None of it made any sense.
She dressed and made ready to meet Hunter. He still had some things to take care of at the Wickham house, but he should be here soon.
As she walked down the hall to the kitchen, Yoda followed at her feet. Scratching the faithful animal behind the ears, she couldn’t help but wonder what Hunter had learned from Marcie. And why did that name sound so familiar?
She poured out the morning’s coffee, rinsed and refilled the coffeemaker, then filled the animals’ bowls.
The knock on the door made her jump. Yoda padded over to it and sat on her haunches as she waited for her to look through the peephole.
Her heart stuttered and her pulse jerked. Hunter was here. Placing a hand on her stomach, she waited a few seconds to give the butterflies time to settle.
Opening the door, she pulled in a deep breath and smiled.
“You ready?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
They climbed in the car and Hunter glanced at her. “I got a call from Chief Granger.”
“Who?”
“The guy investigating the fire at Katie’s house.”
Wariness filled her. “What’d he say?”
Hunter’s fingers tapped the wheel. “It was arson. The person used paint thinner as the accelerant.”
Alexia froze. Paint thinner. The same kind of accelerant that had been used in the fire that had burned her home to the ground as a teenager.
More tapping. “My car had C-4 in it. Traces of paint thinner were also found there.”
She gulped, unsure what to say, how to respond. She looked at him. Did he think she had something to do with the fire? She’d been all alone when it was set—she had no alibi. And as for his car . . . “Hunter—”
“He also said they found something at the fire.”
Apprehension coursed unabated now. “Come on, Hunter, quit tiptoeing around whatever it is you’re trying to tell me.” She looked up and blinked. “And why are we back at my mother’s house? I need to get to the hospital.”
He parked in the drive and sighed. “They found a piece of jewelry that belongs to you.”
“Me?” she squeaked. “How would they know my jewelry?”
“They don’t. I did.” He pulled out his phone. “Katie texted me this.”
She looked and gasped. The letter X on a silver chain. “What? That’s not possible.” Alexia exploded from the car and hurried up the front walk. Jamming her key in the lock, she twisted it and raced to her room. Heart pounding, pulse racing, she stood in the doorway and forced air into her lungs.
She heard Hunter calling her name even as his footsteps charged after her. Her gaze landed on the desk. The necklaces all lined up in perfect order.
Except for the one that was missing.
Hunter watched her walk toward the necklaces as though in a trance. One by one, she checked them, then turned to him in disbelief. “It’s really not there.”
“Who else has access to this house?”
“I have no idea.”
“Then I suggest we visit your mother and get a list.”
Still looking a little dazed, she nodded. “Right.”
Back in the car, Alexia was silent for the first few minutes.
“What are you thinking?”
“That I should be ashamed of myself,” she whispered.
He blinked as her words sank in. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve been a selfish brat.”
“What brought that on?”
“I’ve been trying to think of who might have a key to my mother’s house and realize I don’t have a clue. I should have at least a clue.”
“It’s been ten years, Alexia.” He kept his voice soft, nonjudgmental. At least he hoped he did.
; “I should have made more of an effort to get in touch with her. Leaving those stupid messages—” Her voice caught. “She apologized to me. For being a lousy mother.”
“Hmm.”
She looked at him. “I guess it’s my turn to apologize to her for being a lousy daughter.”
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “You’ve grown up, Lex.”
Silence filled the car until she blew out a soft breath and asked, “What did you learn from Marcie Freeman?”
“That she and Devin were dating. But it looks like he was also seeing someone else and that someone didn’t particularly like the fact that Marcie was in the picture.”
She blinked. “Really? How did Marcie know that?”
“Marcie got a note telling her to back off from Devin.”
A frown pulled her brows down. “But that doesn’t make sense. Devin is the one who was killed.”
“I know. You’re right. It is weird.”
“Unless Devin did something that made his killer mad.”
“Ya think?”
She rolled her eyes. “Well yes, of course, Devin did something to get himself killed. But that still doesn’t make sense because the person on the phone specifically said, ‘Next time I won’t kill the wrong person.’”
Hunter blew out a breath. “Yeah. And with Devin’s father being murdered, his mother barely hanging on . . .”
“Can you find out who sent the note to Marcie?”
“I sent it to the lab. My guess is the person wore gloves, and it looks like it was written on standard white copy paper. I doubt we’ll get anything off of it. Our best bet is asking around to see if anyone knows who else he was seeing—or someone who was interested in seeing him. Could be some kind of stalker thing going on here.”
“Try the church.”
“Yes. That’s our next step. Apparently he was pretty active. Knew lots of people. I’m hoping someone will have something to tell me that will lead me somewhere besides another dead end.” He smiled. “You’re starting to think like a cop. Good job.”
He pulled into a spot near the entrance to the hospital reserved for security. “But first, let’s see who has access to your mother’s house.”
They walked through the lobby doors and headed for the elevator. The ride to the fourth floor was a quick one. Once off the elevator, Alexia led the way to her mother’s room. “I wonder if she has company.”
She got her answer as soon as she approached the cracked door. Voices from inside the room grabbed her attention. As did the mention of her name.
“I can’t ask her that.”
“You have to. Right now, she’s pretty much your only hope.”
Alexia frowned at Hunter, who lifted a hand to knock. She motioned for him to stop. To listen.
He raised a brow and shook his head. Alexia felt shame creep up into her cheeks. Right. Eavesdropping wasn’t exactly very ethical. Alexia turned to knock.
“She’ll think I only want to make amends so she’ll help me out.”
She let her knuckles come into contact with the door as she processed the words. Her mother needed her help? With what?
“Come in.”
Alexia pushed the door open and stepped inside. Hunter followed and she nearly jumped when she felt his hand at the small of her back. His touch shivered through her, but the silent gesture of support meant so much more.
Her mother lay in the bed, looking frail and wan. But at least she was awake and talking. Michael Stewart sat in the chair beside her, holding her hand. Alexia nodded at him and he smiled his welcome as he stood and held out a hand to Hunter, who shook it.
“I’m Hunter Graham, a friend of Alexia’s.”
Friend? She looked at him in surprise. She would have thought he’d introduce himself as the detective on the case. Then she remembered. No one had told her mother about Devin yet.
“Hi, Mom.”
“I’ve gotten your messages.”
“Great.” Could the conversation get any more stilted? She sighed. “How are you doing?”
A weak smile crossed her face. “I’ve been better.”
“What is it you think I can do to help you out?”
Her mother flinched, then lifted a brow. “What makes you ask that?”
“I was in the hall and heard part of your conversation.”
Uneasiness flickered on the pale features. “It’s nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“Not right now.” The sharp words stung.
Alexia stared at her for a few seconds, then shrugged. “Fine then.” She’d drop it for now. Maybe her mother didn’t feel comfortable talking in front of Hunter. “Um . . . I need to give you some bad news.” Her gaze landed on Hunter, who gave her an encouraging nod.
Michael moved closer to her mother, his hand tightening protectively around hers.
“Devin’s . . . dead.”
Her mother’s harsh gasp echoed in the room. Then she asked, “How? What happened? When?”
“He was killed Monday night.” Should she give her the details? “Um, Mom? He was killed in your basement. I . . . found him when I got here from Washington. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been so scarce around here. I’m . . . sorry.”
The woman gaped at her. “Oh Lex. Oh no,” she whispered.
“I . . . understand you were helping him out.” Alexia hoped her mother would fill her in, but she didn’t want to press her or put any stress on her.
“Yes. I was.” Her mom breathed out, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the pillow. “He was having a hard time. I let him move in the basement apartment.”
“Mom, Hunter is a detective, trying to find Devin’s killer. He needs to ask you some questions.”
Eyes still shut, her mother nodded. “All right.”
Hunter asked, “Is there some reason he didn’t move back in with his parents?”
Faded green eyes opened. “He didn’t get along with them.”
“Why not?” Alexia asked.
Her mom looked at Michael as though asking permission for something.
He nodded. “I think you need to tell them as much as you know. It might help them find out who killed him.”
Her gaze turned toward Alexia. “I got to know Devin through a Bible study at church. He was a very confused young man at first, but as he started to realize God’s love, it was amazing to watch him change, to become confident in himself, in who he was created to be.”
“What?” Alexia stared, dumbstruck. Who was this woman? Her mother talked about God like he was a friend or something.
Kind of like Hunter did. And Serena.
“Anyway,” her mother continued, “throughout Devin’s childhood, his father was very abusive toward his mother—and still is. I didn’t want him going back there. He and his father had had some pretty bad . . . incidents, and I told him he didn’t need to put himself back in that situation.”
She motioned for the cup of water on her end table. Alexia reached for it the same time as Michael. He withdrew his hand with another smile. Alexia held the cup so her mother could sip.
“Thank you.”
“So you let him live with you.”
Her mother’s eyes met hers once more. “It was a temporary arrangement. Just until he could get another job and get back on his feet. He had decided to save his money and open his own lawn care business. Living rent free was helping him do that faster.” She shrugged. “And he took care of things around the house that I couldn’t do.”
“He didn’t have any other friends he could have stayed with?” Hunter asked.
A frail shoulder in a half shrug. “He said no.”
“Do you know anyone who might want to hurt Devin?”
A frown creased her mom’s forehead. “No. Certainly not.”
“What about his parents? You know anyone who would want to hurt them?”
“His parents? No.” Confusion rippled across her face. “Why?”
“Someone tried to ki
ll them too,” Alexia whispered.
Shock held her mother speechless. Michael made a sound in his throat and Alexia looked at him. Wrinkles pinched his forehead and his face had paled to the color of parchment.
“His father’s dead and his mother is in critical condition.”
After a few seconds of processing this news, Alexia’s mother said, “I’m not sure anyone knew their family secret other than Michael and the few people in our Bible study. And none of us wanted to do them harm. We just wanted to help them.”
Hunter said, “Can you tell me anything about a woman Devin was dating? Marcie Freeman?”
Her mother raised a shaking hand to scratch her nose. Her eyes closed and she swallowed.
“Mom?” Alexia frowned and touched the soft hand lying on top of the blanket. “Are you all right?”
The concern she felt for the woman who’d basically thrown her out of the house ten years ago surprised her. But this was her mother. And Alexia cared.
“Just tired.” Her grimace said it was more than just fatigue bothering her. After a deep breath, she opened her eyes. “Marcie’s a young woman in our church. She and Devin had been dating for about a year. I think he was planning on asking her to marry him.”
“Really?” Hunter looked to the silent pastor standing by, watching the interactions. “Did you talk to him much? Did he say anything about the women in his life?”
Michael shook his head. “Women? There weren’t any women as far as I know. As for Marcie, she’s a great girl. And while Devin and I talked extensively about his childhood and his plans for the future, he never mentioned dating anyone else.”
“A secret life?” Alexia suggested.
“No.” Michael shook his head. “Not Devin. He was an open book.”
Alexia noticed her mother had fallen asleep. She stood. “I guess we’d better go and let her sleep. I think this visit wore her out.”
Hunter looked at Michael. “Do you think you could give me a list of people who have access to Mrs. Allen’s house?”
The pastor scratched his head. “I’ll be glad to try.”
Hunter handed him a piece of paper and a pen.
When the Smoke Clears (Deadly Reunions) Page 15