Owen’s face reddened. “You got what you wanted—proof your father didn’t run away with his mistress. Time to let it go.”
“There’s more. A lot more.”
“Stay out of it, Magnolia. I can’t be responsible for what happens to you if you continue to push.”
“No,” I said as a new truth hit me. “I suspect that’s true, or you wouldn’t be warning me at all.” While I knew I should be worried about my safety, at the moment I was more worried about dragging the people I cared about into the middle of it. “But we both know you lied about killing Lopez. You were covering up your involvement in something.”
He looked startled for a second before he managed to conceal his reaction. “Magnolia, this is bigger than your father’s disappearance. Just accept that he’s gone and move on with your life—without Brady.” He stood. “Your apartment’s been released. You’re free to move back in, but if you’re smart, you’ll move back to New York and leave this all behind.”
Chapter 3
When I reentered the shop, I thought I saw the guy with the baseball cap again, but this man was shorter and broader than the guy I’d seen in the crowd. I shook my head. I was getting paranoid.
Colt had left, but he’d sent a text asking me to let him know when I got off work. We’d drummed up a nice crowd for the store, and the effect had snowballed—people passing by kept stopping in to see why so many people were there. I ended up staying an hour past the end of my shift, not that I was complaining. I was flat broke. Again.
I called Colt as I walked out the back door.
“What did he want?” he asked without preamble.
“Don’t you want to know who he was?”
“I already do. Owen Frasier, the Franklin police detective who was with Bennett at the Kincaid Friday night. The guy in charge of Frey’s murder. Now what did he want?”
Sure, Colt had seen Owen and me together at the bar, but that didn’t explain why he knew him by name. “I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. I’m headed to my apartment to pick up some things.”
“So you’re gonna keep shacking up with Detective Hot Stuff?” he asked, sounding disgusted.
I decided to ignore his question, feeling guilty enough about staying with Brady. “Are you going to meet me there or not?”
“See you in ten minutes,” he said before he hung up.
My phone rang again before I could put it down. I cringed when I saw it was my sister-in-law Belinda.
Although we’d texted several times over the past few days, I hadn’t seen her since Saturday night, after my attack. Earlier that evening, she’d put on an Arts Council fundraiser. I’d helped cater the event for Momma’s business, and Steve Morrissey had confronted me there, angry that I’d sent a policeman to talk to him about Geraldo Lopez’s disappearance. For the rest of the evening, Belinda had stuck by my side like glue. She had given me a solid alibi around the time of Morrissey’s death, which seemed a little . . . convenient. Even stranger, she’d told me that my brother was at a dinner in downtown Nashville, but I was almost certain I’d seen him lurking in the shadows outside of the fundraiser. My gut told me that my sister-in-law knew something about Morrissey’s death and that my brother might be involved. I needed to talk to her about it, but I wasn’t quite sure how, and everything else had unfurled from there . . .
She’d texted earlier today, and I’d promised to call her when I finished at the store.
“Hey,” I answered, trying to sound breezy as I started my car and pulled out of the parking lot. “Sorry I haven’t called yet, but I just got off work. We had a huge crowd today.”
“I hear you and Colt put on a performance.” I wasn’t surprised to hear the disapproval in her voice. She’d made it clear that she thought I should steer clear of him.
“Alvin coerced us into it.”
“I heard you were a hit.”
Belinda’s wedding planner business was only a couple of blocks from the store, and word traveled fast downtown. “We drew a bit of a crowd.”
“How are you? I’ve been so worried about you,” she said. “Especially since Brady wouldn’t let me see you.”
“It wasn’t that he wouldn’t let you,” I said as I turned down the street of my apartment. “I was sleeping. Besides, I tried to call you later, but you were meeting with clients.”
“What are you doing tonight? Roy’s working late, so I thought maybe we could get dinner.”
“Oh,” I said. “Brady said he’d be home by six.”
She was silent for a beat. “So you’re still staying with Brady?”
“For the time being,” I said. “Detective Frasier came by the store earlier and told me that my apartment has been released as a crime scene. I’m headed there now to pick up some things to take to Brady’s.”
“Doesn’t it freak you out to go back there?”
Yes, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit that. “I’m only going up for a few minutes. Besides, Colt will be there.”
“For someone who’s living with Brady, you’re spending an awful lot of time with Colt.” From anyone else it would have sounded judgmental, but Belinda sounded more like she was worried I’d get hurt.
“I know how it looks, but I’m not sleeping with Brady. I’m just staying there.”
“I thought you liked him.”
“I do, but I’m just not ready yet.”
“Because of Colt?”
“Colt and I are just friends, Belinda. You know that.”
“Colt doesn’t have any female friends.”
“Well, he’s friends with me,” I said, sounding more defensive than I would have liked.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to sound like your momma.”
I laughed. “No worries there. Momma would have been a lot more blunt. I know your warning comes from love, but there’s nothing to worry about. Rushing into a relationship with Brady seems like a bad idea, and there’s absolutely nothing to worry about with Colt. I’m not stupid enough to become one more woman in his revolving door.”
“I know you’re not, but it’s my job as your sister-in-law to worry about you.”
I smiled, my heart feeling full. Out of all the people I’d gotten close to since coming back to Franklin, I valued my relationship with Belinda the most. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you.” I paused to swallow the lump in my throat. “I wish I could have dinner with you, but maybe we could have lunch tomorrow instead.”
“I have lunch with a client. I know you’re not a morning person, but what about breakfast?”
“I have to be at Ava’s to clean her house at eight thirty.”
“Surely you don’t have to clean her house if you aren’t even staying there.”
I snorted. “Have you met Ava Milton? Of course I do, but I want to see you, so are you willing to meet at seven thirty?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “I miss you, Magnolia.”
“I miss you too. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hung up as the house came into view up ahead.
I was glad I’d had the call to distract me, because I wasn’t as nervous as I’d expected to be when I pulled into the driveway.
The crime tape was gone when I parked my car in front of my second-floor garage apartment. I hadn’t been back since Brady had whisked me away to his place late Saturday night. I’d left with only the clothes I was wearing and my cell phone.
But now that I was here, I was beginning to have second thoughts about going back up there. I’d almost been killed in this place. It had taken me years to get over the trauma I’d suffered in the basement of that abandoned house in the woods ten years ago. Even though the memories hadn’t returned to me until recently, the experience had scarred me in every way possible.
The problem was that I needed this apartment, however little I wanted it. I couldn’t stay with Brady indefinitely. It was out of the question to move back in with my mother, given that I planned to keep digging into my fat
her’s disappearance—and God knew how unlikely it was that Ava Milton would let me out of my six-month lease without charging me an arm and a leg.
I got out of the car and wasn’t surprised when the screen door instantly opened at the back of the house. Ava Milton, my landlady, stuck her nose in everything and knew all about my comings and goings. She’d made it abundantly clear that she wanted a quiet tenant, so I was sure to get an earful considering her house had essentially become a Law & Order episode last Saturday night.
“Magnolia Steele,” she said in a stern voice. “You’re back.”
I spun around to face her. “Detective Frasier came to see me at the shop today to tell me the apartment had been released. I thought I’d check it out.”
She stepped through the door and walked toward me. The look on her face told me I was in trouble. “He told me the same thing. We’ll walk through the place together and assess the damage.”
A horrifying new thought occurred to me: I wouldn’t put it past her to hold me responsible and make me pay to repair the damages. That was money I didn’t have.
She headed up the staircase to my apartment, leaving me to follow. When we got to the top, she stopped and stared at the door. “This will have to be completely replaced,” she said in a snippy tone.
Since the wood around the lock on the door and the door frame had been fragmented by bullets, I saw no reason to disagree.
She pushed the door open and took several steps inside, but I stayed in the opening, taking in the damage that had been done to the open-floor-plan, one-bedroom apartment.
The living room furniture had been shoved around, and there was a shattered lamp on the floor that had apparently gotten broken in the scuffle—or the ensuing investigation. The utility closet door in the kitchen was open, and cleaning products were strewn across the kitchen floor. Otherwise, the only sign that a man had been murdered here was the sickeningly large stain on the hardwood floors.
“That will likely need to be replaced,” Ava said.
“But I can move back in before it’s done, can’t I?”
She turned back to look at me. “You want to move into an apartment with a bloodstained floor?”
I shuddered. “No, but I don’t know how long I’ll be where I’m currently staying.”
“You don’t want to stay with your boyfriend?” she asked with narrowed eyes. Her tone made it clear she didn’t approve of me staying with him. I hadn’t told her where I was staying, but I wasn’t surprised she knew.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a friend. But he’s interested in more, and I’m not ready to go there yet.” Why was I telling her this? She was the biggest busybody in town—the last person I wanted to let in on my personal tribulations.
“Well, you can’t move back in before the door’s replaced,” she said. “And the soonest that can happen is tomorrow.”
“How about after that?”
She watched me for a moment, then motioned for me to walk back outside. I had to admit that looking at the bloodstain was giving me the creeps. How was I going to live here? The memories were bad enough without the physical evidence of what had happened here. Maybe I could find a throw rug big enough to cover it.
But she’d made no mention of charging me for the floor or the door, so maybe I’d get out of it.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned to face me. “I still expect you to clean my house tomorrow morning.”
“I hadn’t forgotten. I’ll be here, Miss Ava.”
Her face softened, and she studied me for several seconds. Just when I thought she was about to say something comforting, her eyes hardened again. “Eight thirty sharp. Don’t be late, or I’ll tack a late fee on to the cost of the repairs.”
And there it was.
“Miss Ava, I have no idea how much it will cost to repair those things, but I barely have a penny to my name.”
“Then you’ll do extra work for me. I have plenty of projects to keep you busy. Are you working at the boutique or for your mother tomorrow?”
“Not at the boutique,” I said reluctantly. “But I work for the catering business at four.”
“Then plan on showing up at eight thirty and staying until you need to leave for your second job.”
Part of me thought about telling her no, but right now she had me between a rock and a hard place. “Yes, ma’am.”
I saw Colt walking up the drive out of the corner of my eye. He grinned as he approached. “If it isn’t my two favorite ladies.” He stopped next to us and turned his dazzling smile on my landlord. “Good afternoon, Miss Ava.”
She shot him a dark look. “Don’t you go trying to flatter me, Colton.”
“Flatter you?” he asked in a teasing tone. “I only speak the truth.”
Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and her mouth pursed before she turned and headed for her back door. “Eight thirty sharp, Magnolia.”
“I’ll be here.”
Colt and I watched her walk inside, and I wondered once again how they were tied together. According to Colt, he’d done some work for Ava two years ago, but he refused to even hint at what he’d done, and my landlord would only say he was a loyal resource. Momma’s best friend Tilly had insinuated there’d been plenty of late-night meetings, but I refused to believe they’d had a sexual affair. The more I learned about Ava Milton, the more I believed she’d consulted him for something seedy.
Colt waited for the door to close before he turned to me, his smile falling. “What did Frasier say?”
How much did I want to tell Colt? Though I was reluctant to trust anyone, I was beginning to feel way out of my league. I needed an ally, and Colt had proven that he was there for me. His dark past had made him streetwise enough to be helpful. He’d moved Daddy’s plaster dog into my apartment for me, and we’d discovered the gold together—only, I’d kept my father’s note to myself. Colt had connections and he’d written down the serial numbers stamped into the gold bars and brought the list to one of his friends along with one of the bars. If not for Colt, I wouldn’t know about the three bars that had been made after Daddy’s disappearance. How much more helpful would he be if I told him everything?
I offered him a tight smile. “Let’s go upstairs.”
He nodded and we headed up to my apartment. He pushed in the partially open door and walked in, then stood in the middle and did a slow scan of the room.
I stood in the doorway, still not able to make myself walk all the way in. This did not bode well for my prospects of successfully moving back in. “Owen said—”
His back was to me, but he swung around and said, sounding angry, “I don’t want to hear about your afternoon with another man, Magnolia. You know how jealous I get, and it’s bad enough you’re shacking up with the other cop.”
My mouth dropped open. What was he talking about?
“I changed my mind,” he said. “I’m starving. Let’s go get something to eat.” Then he headed toward me and grabbed my hand, twining our fingers together as he closed the door behind us and then led the way down the stairs.
“Colt—”
“Get in your car, Maggie.” He stopped next to the driver’s door and opened it for me. The tightness in his voice scared me, so I did as he ordered. He walked around to the passenger side and climbed inside.
“What just happened?” I asked as soon as the doors were shut.
“Someone has bugged your apartment.”
“What?” I gave a slight shake of my head, sure I’d heard him wrong. “How could you possibly know that from standing in the center of the room?”
“I saw a camera in the bookcase. It’s pretty well hidden, but if you know where to look, it’s easy to spot.”
“Wait. You were looking?”
“Someone wants the gold, Maggie, and they think you have it. It makes sense they’d bug your place to find out where it is.”
“Who would do that?”
“You tell me,” he said in an accusat
ory tone.
“Not Brady. He doesn’t know anything. Besides, we haven’t discussed when I’m moving back into the apartment, so why would he bug this place? But it could be Owen, especially since he was so insistent I leave Brady’s apartment and come back to my own.”
“And what else did Detective Frasier have to say earlier?”
“He’s worried that I’m using Brady and will hurt him.”
Colt snorted. “Were you painting each other’s nails when he said it?”
I scowled. “No. While I do believe Owen’s worried about him, there’s more to it. He made no secret of the fact that he knew Dr. Lopez was looking for something. Neither of us mentioned the word gold, but I’m sure he knows. The question is how?”
“We have to assume we’re all on the same page,” Colt said.
“Agreed.”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I was hungry,” Colt said. “Let’s head over to Puckett’s and talk there.”
My mouth gaped. “Are you crazy? You want to discuss this in public? Downtown? You need to refocus your priorities. We have to debug my apartment. If there’s one camera, there’s more.”
“No. We’re going to leave them there.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No.” He turned to face me. “Maggie, listen. If we take the cameras out, they’ll know we’re onto them. We can purposely mislead them. Give them false information. If they act on it, we might be able to figure out who’s behind it.”
I shuddered. “Maybe so, but I can’t live there knowing someone’s watching me.”
“Then we’ll set them up right away. But for now, we’ll go get something to eat and figure out where to go from here.”
I frowned, then checked the time on my phone: 3:45.
“Got a hot date?”
My head jerked up, surprised by his jealous tone. “Brady said he’d be home around six.”
“Is he expecting a hot meal when he gets home?”
I shot him a look. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
Call Back: Magnolia Steel Mystery #3 (Magnolia Steele Mystery) Page 3