by Regan Black
Shane gave her his professional, reserved smile. “Could we take a look at his office, please? Maybe there’s an appointment or note on his phone that didn’t make it to the company calendar yet.”
Irene rolled her eyes. “That happens more than I’d like.” Irene dropped her cheaters to hang from the beaded chain around her neck as she stood up. “This way.”
Shane and Stumps followed her through a set of double doors. The warehouse stretched out into a long open space, the concrete floor dark with age and racks loaded with boxes and crates stretched to the rafters on either side. A forklift hummed along, moving between the warehouse and the open bay door at the loading dock.
The offices at this end of the building were tidy and up-to-date. Tommy’s office was about what Shane expected. There were files on the desk, samples scattered across the credenza and bookshelf, and framed certificates of education and accomplishments on the walls. The faint odor of cigarette smoke lingered in the air and Shane considered it a vast improvement over the smells from the garbage-filled alley. When Irene left, Shane let Stumps search, but there wasn’t anything that caught his interest.
Shane applied his P.I. skills while Stumps took a break. Finding a short list of passwords printed on a sticky note under the desk calendar, Shane unlocked Tommy’s computer and did a quick search. The man seemed to be all business with a few personal days scattered among his full schedule. His only true commitment seemed to be a weekly poker game with the guys. Not a bad life and clearly no sign of a fiancée in his present or recent past.
“Who would want to hurt you?” Shane muttered. There was always a motive. Maybe one of those occasional dates was married to a plumber, he thought, recalling the likely weapon. If so, why would a furious husband bother to move Tommy’s unconscious body?
Shane poked through Tommy’s client files and matched up one of his recent dates with a point of contact for a well-known French restaurant down in Rapid City. Huh. Shane had wanted to try that place for some time. It would be a haul, but maybe he and Danica could head down there one night soon. He could picture her in a dress with a short skirt and high heels that would bring her kissable mouth a little closer to his. The idea of going on dates beyond this evening startled him. He hadn’t intended to kiss her, but now he could hardly think of anything other than the next opportunity.
“Get a grip, Colton,” he muttered to himself. Case first, lust second.
A chime sounded, muffled, but unmistakably a cell phone alert of some sort. Shane followed the sound and nearly gave a whoop of victory when it led him to Tommy’s cell phone. Even better, Tommy didn’t keep his phone locked. Shane skimmed through his personal calendar and texts, hoping for any lead on a motive for the attack.
He stopped skimming at the sight of Hayley Patton’s name and number. Tommy had regular dates with her before she’d accepted Bo’s proposal and started wedding plans. He’d even marked their last date with a stop sign emoji. Interesting.
Shane compared the personal calendar with the business calendar and started to get a better picture of Tommy’s dating habits. Returning the phone to where Tommy had left it, Shane took Stumps outside to investigate further.
It was a simple matter of following the odor of smoke through a side door to find where the smokers congregated. A trash can topped with an ashtray had been installed under the overhang of the metal roof. At the moment, no one else was here, giving Shane ample space and time to study the area.
He took pictures, noting how easily a vehicle could approach. Just as he gave the command for Stumps to investigate, a cream-colored sedan with the company logo on the door rolled by, followed by a delivery van. Clearly, the area had consistent traffic.
Shane made more mental notes while they worked, a potential theory for the attack developing in his mind. Stumps sat suddenly, giving an alert and waiting patiently for Shane to investigate. There in the gravel just outside the deeper rut of tire tracks, a bullet casing gleamed. It bore none of the grime of nearby debris, making it stand out as a new addition to the area.
Shane phoned in the find while he continued to search for more clues. Sure enough, a few paces back the gravel was scuffed up as if someone had been dragged away.
Once he’d handed the area off to the crime scene techs, Shane went to the office to let Irene know he and Stumps were done outside. “It was great to see you again,” he added, turning for the door.
“Shane.”
“Yes?”
She pursed her lips, clearly having made some decision while he and Stumps had been working. “You probably don’t know I bought your old house at auction after your mother passed,” Irene said. “While your father cleared out most things in his way, I was able to protect some mementos of your childhood and the things that meant more to her.”
Taken aback, Shane felt rooted in place. “Why didn’t you tell me before? It’s been nearly a decade.”
“I don’t have a good answer for you,” she said with a weak shrug. “Blame it on fear or doubt.”
“Of me?” He should be used to people assuming he must have been guilty of something even after the real killer confessed. Instead, knowing his old neighbor sided with rumor gave him a disquieting prickle of unease behind his sternum.
“No,” she said with a snort. “I wasn’t sure you’d be interested in anything from before.”
Curious, Shane couldn’t help asking what had changed.
Irene’s brown eyes welled with emotion. “You stuck in Red Ridge and made something of yourself. Your mom would be proud you didn’t let the circumstances and rumors run you out.”
He’d been sorely tempted, especially in those early days. He glanced at Stumps. The K9 opportunity had been the cornerstone of rebuilding right here.
Irene clasped her hands over her heart. “Then you were so busy with your new life and business, I didn’t want to drag you down with the weight of a past we couldn’t change.”
“Thanks,” he said, meaning it. When he thought of those dark years, his only real regret was that his mother hadn’t lived to see him exonerated. “It would be nice to see the things you kept,” he said. Maybe somewhere in whatever Irene had kept he would find the closure that had eluded him all this time. He fished out a business card and handed it over the counter. “Call me and I’ll come by whenever it’s convenient for you.”
“Nonsense.” She read the card. “I’ll have Mr. Mixon drop it off for you.”
“Oh.” Shane had to work to get words past the emotion clogging his throat. “Thank you.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about having anything from his life on this side of town invading the new life and home he’d established on the respectable side of town.
It was a relief to drive away, to return to the police station and the responsibilities that kept his mind safely away from the bitter and twisted paths of his past.
News of their discovery of the original crime scene at the warehouse had preceded them, and Shane and Stumps were greeted with a rousing cheer. Stumps pranced along, soaking up the celebrity status. It wasn’t as if they’d solved anything, but Stumps deserved all the credit for making good progress.
Shane asked for a moment with Finn. “I may have a new theory on the Groom Killer,” he said when the door was closed. “We’ve been looking for a killer with ties to Bo and the other victims. I’d like permission to look into ties to Hayley Patton.”
Finn’s brow furrowed. “Keep going.”
Shane understood he needed to lay out a convincing argument. “Today’s victim, Tommy Sutton, doesn’t fit with the Groom Killer case the way it’s currently defined.”
“It’s only been a couple of hours, Shane. You know this takes time.”
“And it should,” Shane agreed. “But I’ve found a connection between Tommy and Hayley.” He explained what he’d found on Tommy’s cell phone and personal calendar.
“
All right,” Finn said. “You can pursue that angle. Just don’t spook anyone. Start by interviewing Tommy.”
Shane stood and Stumps rolled to his feet, as well. “We’re on our way.”
“Do me a favor first.” Finn got up and opened his office window.
“What’s that?” Shane was sure he was going to bring up the lack of progress on the stolen dogs.
“Get a shower,” Finn said. “Bathe your dog, and burn your clothes. The pair of you stink.”
With a small chuckle, Shane agreed to clean up right away, his mind already moving forward with the potential new angle of the Groom Killer case.
CHAPTER 10
Danica wasn’t sure what to wear for a date that would potentially turn into a dog rescue mission. When the alarm she’d set for seven o’clock sounded, she knew she was running out of time to decide.
Her stomach a bundle of nerves, she opted for dark jeans, flats and a sky blue top that twisted in the front to give her the illusion of a real cleavage and flared out again. It wasn’t easy being a short girl with a distinct lack of curves, but she’d long ago decided to make the best of it. She was strong and smart and capable and someday, she’d find the man who appreciated what she was, rather than what she wasn’t. Or so her father always said.
She didn’t want to think about her father’s reaction if he heard she was going on a date with Shane Colton. The questions and doubts in her own mind were more than enough to cope with.
She pulled the front of her hair up into a clip and swept mascara over her eyelashes. She tucked a tube of lip gloss into her purse. When she checked her reflection, her dumb heart wanted to spin in happy circles that Shane could be that man. She reined it in. Blazing kisses and sexy smiles aside, there was too much old baggage between them for her to contemplate anything beyond the present moment.
Oscar demanded a snack and more attention and she obliged. He was a good companion, as loyal to her as any dog she’d known. She flopped to the floor in the living room and they played with his favorite toy, a ball with a bell that lit up when he smacked it. It wasn’t quite enough distraction to keep her mind off Shane, Nico or the puppy.
At ten minutes to eight, she checked her hair one last time and applied the lip gloss. She used the lint roller she kept by the front door to clear away the inevitable cat hair Oscar left behind. She felt as ready as possible for the evening ahead, but her stomach pitched when she heard the knock on her door.
Smiling, she opened the door without checking the peep hole. Then she was stuck, confused, trying to make sense of Tyler standing where she expected Shane to be.
“Hey,” she said, recovering quickly. “What’s up?” He shuffled his feet and her stomach pitched again. She didn’t see any sign of new injuries and his parents weren’t known to be abusive, but too many hard-luck scenes spun through her mind. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” His smile wasn’t so convincing. “I was just out walking and—”
He stopped as the elevator chime dinged an arrival down the hall. “Come on in,” she said, following her intuition. Tyler needed to talk and date or rescue, she wasn’t going to push him off.
“No.” He shook his head. “Thanks though,” he added a beat too late. “I was just walking and uh, thinking about the agility course.”
Shane walked into view, flowers in hand, and Tyler clammed up. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He winced. “Are you working tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Tomorrow was Saturday, but she typically spent part of her weekends at the training center. Animals needed care and attention every day. She stepped into the hallway as Tyler shifted back, out of Shane’s way. “Hang on a second, Tyler.”
Tyler waved and then shoved his hand back in his pocket, shoulders hunched. “’Night.” He hurried along, giving Shane a half-hearted greeting as he left.
“Everything okay?” Shane asked her.
“Who knows?” She held up her hands. “Probably. Though he’s never come here before,” she added, stepping back to make room for Shane to come in.
He looked fantastic in pressed khakis and a short-sleeved linen shirt in a forest green. It didn’t seem like a good outfit for dog rescue, but he was the professional. Brow furrowed, Shane eyed the now-empty hallway. “What did he want?”
She didn’t have any idea. Better to change the subject than say anything Shane would interpret as Tyler’s guilt. “Are those for me?” she asked with a nod to the flowers. A bundle of white daisies and rosy-red tulips peeked above the paper stamped with the logo from the florist that delivered to Hayley every week.
“Yes.” Shane did a double take, then bent his head and kissed her cheek as he put the flowers into her hands. When he straightened, he gave her a smile laced with charm and confidence. Thankfully, he didn’t bring that one out often or she’d never have a clear thought in his presence again. “You look great.”
“Thanks.”
She closed the door and inhaled the soft scent of the flowers. The bouquet was modest compared to the arrangements Hayley received, but Danica was thoroughly delighted by the gesture. It was the first time a guy—man—had brought her more than a corsage. She was a little embarrassed to have to pull out a water pitcher in lieu of a proper vase.
Some romantic notion wanted to flutter to life and she quashed it. This could simply be his way of enacting distinct attention to detail to make this look like a real date. She supposed that kind of cleverness was an asset in his work as a P.I.
“I brought something for Oscar, too.” He pulled a small white bag from his back pocket.
At the sound of his name, or possibly the rich smell of salmon emanating from the bag, Oscar padded over from where he’d been curled on the top of the cat tower near the slider.
Shane knelt down and fed him a couple of the treats while Danica stared, having no idea how to interpret the thoughtful gesture. The flowers made sense, reinforcing their date as a cover story, but no one other than her would ever know or care that he’d been nice to her cat.
“Shane?”
He rubbed her cat’s ears, and Oscar’s rumble of approval grew louder. He turned and grinned up at her when she didn’t say anything more. “Danica?”
“What exactly is going on?” She winced at how rude that must have sounded.
“I’m making friends with your cat,” he said as if it should be perfectly obvious. He stood up and the full force of his smile struck her again.
“That’s…kind.” She should be polite and simply accept it. “I thought Stumps would be with you,” she said, seeking a safe topic.
“He’s at the house. It’s been a long, productive day. For both of us.” Shane raised his chin to the flowers in the pitcher. “I’ll bring a vase next time.”
There was going to be a next time?
“Have I said something wrong?” he asked, tapping his finger to his forehead just above his nose. “You’ve got that furrow going on.”
“What?” She rubbed the spot he indicated. “No. Nothing’s wrong.” Unless she counted the way he was slowly crowding her, much as he’d done just before he kissed her last night. She licked her lips, her body warming with anticipation at the sexy promises in his gaze.
“Can I kiss you again?” His rough voice went right through her.
She nodded, terrified she’d beg if she tried to speak.
He stroked his thumb along her cheekbone, traced the line of her jaw as he tipped up her face. Cradling her head in that big palm, he slowly, slowly brought his lips to meet hers. No, the kiss last night hadn’t been a fluke or intensified by the wine or the argument. This kiss, equally potent, if more controlled, left her reeling as much as the first one.
She gripped his sculpted arms for balance when he broke the kiss and touched his forehead to hers. If the goal was to make her fall in love—or lust—to sell the ruse, it was working. “Let me grab my
purse and we can go.”
He stepped back, an odd, speculative smile lurking at the corners of his lips. She had no intention of asking what he was thinking.
“Thank you for the flowers,” she said as he waited for her to lock her door. “It was thoughtful.”
There, that gave him an opening to clarify the gesture. He didn’t. He took her hand instead. “You’re welcome.”
This was starting to seem like a real date and she was feeling well out of her element. “Is there a plan?” she asked as they waited hand in hand for the elevator.
“Well, I thought it would be nice to have dinner out, before I had to push things back.” He paused as the elevator arrived. “We can still do that if you’d rather.”
“Or?” she prompted as they stepped into the car.
He punched the button for the lobby. “Feel free to say it’s too creepy or too soon, but I picked up everything for a pasta dinner at my house and you can choose the movie.”
Out front, he continued to hold her hand until they reached his SUV. He opened the passenger door for and waited for her to slide in. “You’re serious,” she said.
“I knew it was creepy.” He waited with one hand on the roof of the car while she stared up at him. “Especially on a first date.”
“I know you’re not a creep.” She could stand here in the shelter of his body for the better part of forever. A weird blend of unconditional security and sensual danger wound through her.
“And yet you’re not getting into the car.”
She caressed his smooth jaw and realized if she didn’t move the whole town would be talking about her the way they murmured about Vincent and Valeria. She hopped into the passenger seat, her hands laced in her lap. He closed the door firmly and she willed herself to breathe while he rounded the car to the driver’s side.
“This really is a date,” she blurted out as he drove away from her condo.
He arched an eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”
“Honestly?” She couldn’t stop the silly giggle that bubbled out of her. “I thought, hoped, this was really a rescue operation.”