by Rebecca Deel
“Wait here.” He strode to the front door and, using the bottom of his shirt, unlocked it. Nate dug through his bag again and found pairs of gloves. Every Fortress operative carried them for the occasional B&E jobs. Couldn’t afford to leave prints behind.
In the house, he handed one pair to Stella and tugged the other onto his own hands. “We have twenty minutes. Where do you want to start?”
“You take Pete’s office. I’ll take the master bedroom. The rest should be faster.”
They separated in the hallway. Nate made a clicking noise with his tongue and led Spenser into the office with him. The last thing Taylor would want was the dog mucking up the crime scene more than he already had. In the office, a laptop sat on the desk along with a printer and phone. A brown leather love seat was pushed against the wall. The walls were bare save for a large portrait of Kelly and a beautiful woman. Must be Mia.
Rounding the desk, Nate dropped into the office chair and flipped up the lid on the laptop. The screen flickered to life along with a prompt for a password. A fruitless search of the desk led him to conclude Kelly had been careful with his security. Though he wanted to take the computer with him, he’d leave it for the police tech geeks.
He rifled through the contents of the desk drawers again. Bills, office supplies, house expense file. One of the drawers was locked. Nate finessed the lock open. Inside was a small velvet-covered jewelry box, a large diamond ring nestled inside. Mia’s engagement ring.
Nate sighed. Such a waste. Kelly and Mia had planned a life together. Now, she would plan his funeral. He relocked the drawer. The ring should be safe until Kelly’s girlfriend found the key and looked inside.
On a hunch, he bent over and looked under the desk top. His eyebrows rose. A manila envelope taped to the surface. Huh. So the marshal hid the contents from prying eyes. Nate loosened the tape. He lifted the flap and peered inside the envelope. Photographs. He frowned. What was so important about these photos that he hid them?
Spenser’s nails clicked on the hardwood floor as he followed Nate to the hall. “Stella?”
“Guest room.”
Stella turned, her gaze dropping to his hand. “What do you have?”
“Photos.”
She took the envelope. Her brow furrowed as she scanned the photos. “An old house, teenage boys, a gravestone. Why did he have these?”
A siren sounded in the distance. Time was running out. “Spread the photos on the bed, baby. We can’t take these with us.”
Stella arranged them on the bedspread and stepped back. Nate snapped pictures with his cell phone and stuffed the photos into the envelope. He returned the envelope to its original position. Striding down the hall, he yanked off his gloves and shoved them deep into his jeans pocket.
“Give me the Sig, sweetheart.” He returned the weapon to his SUV along with the lock picks. Wouldn’t do to have Taylor find the illegal tools on him. He’d know Nate used them to gain access to the marshal’s house. He’d probably know anyway, but there was no point in confirming his suspicions.
Nate made it into the house as Taylor’s car rounded the corner, lights flashing, siren blaring.
“Stella, Nate.” Taylor’s gaze dropped to the Lab and he smiled. “Who’s the pretty boy?”
“This is Spenser,” Stella said.
The detective dropped to one knee and rubbed the dog’s head. “Been here before tonight, Marshal?”
“His name is on the collar.”
“I see.” He studied her expression as he continued to pet the dog. “Why did you come here, Stella?”
“Pete Kelly texted me, said he had information to clear me of murder.”
His gaze sharpened. “Did he say what it was?”
“No.”
“It’s never that easy, is it? What did he say when you arrived?”
“He was dead when we got here,” Nate said.
“How did you get in?”
“Door was unlocked.”
Taylor stared at him a moment. “Should I not examine the locks carefully?” he asked, a wry smile curving his mouth.
“Maybe the killer picked them.”
“Uh huh. You do realize I know what kind of equipment you carry, right? Maddox taps me for missions occasionally. I have the same stuff in my Go bag.”
Nate smiled. “I plead the fifth.”
Taylor snorted. “Show me the body.”
“Sweetheart, why don’t you stay here with Spenser.”
“I can handle seeing Pete again.”
“Someone needs to stay with the Lab.”
“If you wouldn’t mind, Stella, let the ME inside when he arrives,” Taylor said. “The crime scene team will be here soon as well.” He stood and laid his hand on her shoulder. “You can’t be involved in this crime scene. I need you to be as far removed from it as possible.”
“The feds have jurisdiction, Cal.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t look into it before the FBI sticks their nose in. Will you wait here?”
She frowned, but waved him on.
Nate walked into the bedroom. “He’s in the bathroom.”
Taylor approached the doorway. He whistled. “What did you observe?”
“Same thing you are. One shot. Killer took him by surprise. Check his watch.”
The detective’s head whipped his direction. “I assume you already have.”
“Check it.”
He tugged on a pair of gloves and lifted Kelly’s wrist. “Forty minutes after eight.” A glance over his shoulder. “This is significant to you, why?”
“Stella and I were in the garage at Fortress Security at that time. Ask Maddox for a copy of the security footage.”
Taylor swiveled his direction. “You were involved with my first problem, weren’t you?” He held up both hands, palms out. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. So you and your girl are on security footage. That’s something, at least. The feds won’t be so easily appeased. Your girlfriend is in a world of hurt, Armstrong. Someone is determined to get her out of the way. The question is, why?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Stella kept her arms around Spenser as the crime scene team worked. Light flashed in Pete’s bedroom and bathroom as the photographer and videographer recorded the scene. How long before Will Riley and Craig Jordan descended on the scene? Not long enough. Her stomach turned a sickening flip. She’d be lucky if she didn’t spend time in jail again.
Cal strode down the hall, followed by Nate. “Stella, let’s go into the kitchen and talk. We don’t have much time before the feds arrive.”
“You called them.”
He sent her a pointed look. “I had no choice. You know that. Be prepared. Riley was livid.”
Nate wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked with her to the table. Stella huddled deeper into his jacket, comforted by his scent trapped in the fabric. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about the text and everything that happened afterward.”
Stella found the text, and slid her phone across the table to the detective. Cal jotted down the text and the time it was sent in his notebook.
“If you have contact numbers you don’t have memorized, write them down. Riley and Jordan will confiscate your phone. Tell me what happened after you arrived.”
She recounted the events, careful to leave out Nate’s unwitnessed burglary skills and her carrying a weapon.
“Did you shoot Marshal Kelly, Stella? Maybe he argued with you and things got out of hand. No one would blame you for defending yourself. You know how it is when tempers flare.”
“Taylor,” Nate snapped.
Cal held up his hand, his gaze on Stella.
“He was dead when we arrived, Detective. Besides, the FBI has both of my weapons.”
He blinked. “I won’t ask how many weapons your boyfriend has in his SUV.”
Nate glowered at the policeman. “Probably as many as you have. Shall we compare?”
Cal ignored him. “Would you
object to a gunshot residue test, Stella?”
“Of course not.” She had washed her hands twice at the Fortress compound so the residue on her hands from shooting out the windshield was gone.
The policeman stood, walked into the hall and called over one of the crime scene team. The technician used swabs on her hands and dumped them into two tubes before exiting the room again.
The detective resumed his seat across from her and Nate. “When you searched the house, did you find anything that will help in the investigation?”
“Does it look like we searched the place?” Nate asked.
“I’m not stupid, Armstrong. You had ample time to conduct a quick search. Since Stella’s a cop, I assume you didn’t touch the body. What did you find?”
Under cover of the table, Stella clamped her hand over Nate’s. Cal might suspect they’d searched, but there was no proof. If they confirmed his suspicions, he could charge them with interfering in a police investigation. She didn’t want Nate in jail.
Nate gave no indication of her silent signal, just stared at the homicide detective.
Cal sighed. “Okay, let’s try this. If I conduct a very specific search before the feds take over this case, where would you suggest I concentrate?”
“If I were searching, I’d look around Kelly’s desk.” Nate leaned forward, forearms on the table. “Including the underside.”
“Don’t move.” The detective hurried from the room. A minute later, he returned with a familiar manila envelope in hand. He lifted the flap and peered inside. In one motion, he dumped the photographs on the table and spread them out. “Who are these people, Marshal Grayson?”
She scanned the photos again and frowned. Why did these guys look familiar? “I’m not sure. There’s something about them that’s tugging at me, but I don’t know what it is. I know them from somewhere.”
“What about the grave marker? Do you know who Adele Ashworth is?”
“I’ve never heard the name.”
“What about you, Armstrong?”
He shook his head.
Cal added more notes into his notebook. “All the photos are in this stack?” he asked, not looking at either of them.
“We don’t have any photos on us or in our belongings,” Stella said.
“Good to know.” The detective closed his notebook and slipped it into his jacket pocket. Much as Nate had done, he used his cell phone to snap pictures of the individual photos. “It would be prudent to have a record of the crime scene from my CSI team and these photographs. The feds will take the whole thing off our hands as soon as they arrive.” He swept the photos together and dumped them into the envelope. His eyes glittered with amusement. “I’ll return these so Jordan has something worth finding.”
While he was in the office, a female voice reached them from the front of the house, her voice raised in alarm. “You have to let me in here. This is my boyfriend’s house. I have to know if he’s okay.”
“Oh, no,” Stella murmured. She rose, along with Nate, and walked toward the front door.
Cal intercepted them in the hall. “Who is she?” he asked.
“Pete’s girlfriend, Mia Nichols.”
“Do you know her?”
“I’ve talked to her several times at office functions. They were planning to marry.”
The detective sighed. “I hate this part of the job.”
Sympathy rolled through Stella. She’d done her fair share of breaking bad news to friends and family left behind to grieve the loss of their loved ones. “We all do.” No matter how often she did it, the task never grew easier.
He strode into the living room. “Officer Melton, let her in,” he said to the cop blocking entrance into the house.
“Yes, sir.” The man shifted to the side.
A statuesque redhead hurried inside. She came to an abrupt halt at seeing Stella. “Stella, what’s happened? Where’s Pete? We were supposed to meet for a late dinner but he never showed.”
Stella reached out and wrapped her hand around Mia’s. “Come sit with me for a minute.”
“What’s going on?” Pete’s distraught girlfriend dropped onto the couch beside her. “You’re scaring me.”
There was no good way to tell person a loved one was dead. The best she could do was make it as swift as possible without being heartless. “Pete was shot. I’m sorry, Mia, but he didn’t make it.”
“What? No, that can’t be right.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Please tell me this is a mistake. I want to see him. Take me to him.”
Stella wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman. “I’m so sorry. You can’t see him right now, Mia. The crime scene team is processing everything and we don’t want to contaminate the area. Every scrap of information they gather will help us nail the killer. Beyond that, Pete wouldn’t want you to see him like this.” She rubbed Mia’s back. “Remember him as he was, Mia. He was a good man who loved you so much.”
“We were talking about getting married. I planned to tell him tonight I wanted a Christmas wedding.”
Cal crouched in front of Mia. “Miss Nichols, I’m Detective Cal Taylor. I’m very sorry for your loss. I need to ask a few questions if you’re up to it. The more information we have, the faster we find out who killed your boyfriend.”
She straightened from Stella and swiped tears from her cheeks. The effort did little good as more continued to fall. “I’ll try.”
“You might be surprised at what you know. When was the last time you spoke to your boyfriend?”
“About 7:00. That’s when we made plans to meet at my restaurant, The Villa, for a late dinner.”
He smiled. “I love that place. Do you own it?”
She shook her head. “I’m a sous chef. My goal is to own a restaurant one day, though.”
“When Mr. Kelly didn’t arrive, did you call?”
“He never picked up.” Mia buried her face in her hands. “I thought he might be sick. Instead, he was….” She moaned.
“Stay with me, Miss Nichols. Focus.” Cal patted her knee. “Was Mr. Kelly worried about anything?”
“He was upset about his boss’s murder.” The woman glanced up. “Wait. Two murders of people who worked in the same office? That can’t be a coincidence, right?”
“Did he say anything specific about Barnes’s murder?”
“Stella was being railroaded for the crime.” Her gaze shifted to Stella. “He said you were framed. Is that why he’s dead?”
“I don’t know.” Stella tightened her grip on Mia’s hand. “It’s possible.”
“Why kill Pete? He was a good man. Everybody liked him.”
Cops made enemies. Stella had crossed people and been the recipient of threats. No doubt Pete made his share of enemies over the years. Could it be that simple, someone with a grudge against her co-worker had killed him and his death had nothing to do with Ty’s murder? Fat chance. She shoved aside that notion. Like Mia thought, such a coincidence didn’t happen in law enforcement. Someone murdered Pete Kelly to keep him quiet.
Outside, a siren drew close. Cal glanced at Stella and Nate. Must be Riley and Jordan. Stella said, “Mia, Spenser can’t stay here. The house is a crime scene. Do you want to take him with you when you go home?”
Mia shook her head. “I can’t. He’s Pete’s dog. I can’t handle seeing him all the time, knowing Pete’s gone. I also live in an apartment complex that doesn’t allow pets.”
“Is there a family member or a friend who wants him?” Nate asked.
“Pete had a terrible time finding a dog sitter when we left town for a few days. Everyone called Spenser too big to handle. No one will take him.” She glanced at the dog who rested at Nate’s feet, her expression troubled. “I guess I’ll take him to the pound.”
Nate winced. “He needs a family to love him. Would you mind if I took him? I have a friend who’s looking for a large dog.”
“That’s great. Pete really loved Spenser. He deserves a good home.”
“
The friend I’m thinking of will treat him like family.”
More tears fell. “Pete would’ve liked that. Spenser’s a sweet dog.”
The latest siren cut off. Cal helped Mia to her feet. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen, Miss Nichols. I’ll be in soon to ask more questions.” He motioned for another officer to accompany the young woman. Once she was out of earshot, he turned to Stella and Nate. “That’s Jordan. I hope you’re ready, Stella.”
She did, too.
An angry male voice drifted through the open door. Jordan. Nate captured her chin in his hand. “We’ll handle this together, baby. Don’t let him rattle you. Jordan loves to shove and push, hoping for confessions. We can’t give him anything to work with.”
She smiled. “I should give you the same speech. You’re the one who lost his cool at the restaurant.”
His lips twitched. “So I did. We’ll both be on our toes.”
Jordan stormed into the living room, followed by Riley. Were these two joined at the hip? To call the expressions on their faces forbidding was an understatement. Both men’s eyes glittered, cheeks flushed, hands clenched. If their positions were reversed, she would have been as furious. Stella hoped she would given them the benefit of the doubt. Riley and Jordan assumed her guilty before being proved innocent. To her knowledge, she’d never done that to anyone.
She lifted her chin. They didn’t have a corner on anger today. She was plenty ticked off that someone gunned down a friend in cold blood and left him on the bathroom floor to bleed out, all to cover his tracks.
Spenser lunged to his feet and Nate grabbed onto his collar. “Spenser, sit.” His voice held enough command the dog immediately obeyed. “Good boy,” he murmured, patting the dog’s head.
“You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Riley’s voice conveyed his disgust as his gaze zeroed in on Stella. “Killing Ty wasn’t enough? Are you planning to kill all of us, Grayson?”
“That’s enough,” Nate said, his voice low and angry.
“On the contrary, Armstrong, it isn’t nearly enough.”