by Stacy Green
“But what if it’s enough for probable cause?” Dani breathed deeply, the air burning her throat. “Until the medical examiner gives us an more accurate time of death, with Cage living there and the stupid fight with Robertson, the circumstantial stuff might be enough if Landers pushes it. And then they will arrest him.”
Jaymee closed her eyes and tugged at her ponytail. “And the other man died of natural causes?”
“Cage thinks the toxicology report will show otherwise.”
“This whole thing stinks worse than the bodies.” Jaymee pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and punched in a number. “We need a fresh perspective. I’m calling Nick.”
She put the phone on speaker, and the rings filled the office. “Hey baby.” A male voice filled the room. “Aren’t you at work?”
“Cage is in trouble, Nick,” Jaymee said. “I’m here with Dani. Damned Landers says there is new evidence and hauled Cage in.”
“Has he been arrested?” Nick spoke with less of an accent than anyone else around Roselea. His voice was silky smooth, but his baritone was tinged with urgency.
“No,” Dani said. “But Landers will do it if he can, and I have no idea what the evidence is.”
“Do you think they would have enough for probable cause given everything else?” Jaymee said.
“Depends,” Nick answered. “If Adams County P.D. plays by the rules, then everything else is circumstantial. Unless your DA is an idiot–which he’s not–they aren’t going to formerly charge until they’ve got physical evidence that’ll hold up in court, especially since the accused is a cop. But they may get a warrant.”
“What kind of physical evidence?” Dani asked. Cage had been in the cellar. What if the police had some of his DNA? What if the evidence had been contaminated, or worse, planted?
She knotted her hands together and tried to keep a grip on her imagination. This was real life, not some embellished television show.
“Cage’s DNA on the victims,” Nick said, “the victims’ prints in Cage’s house, his skin under the victims’ fingernails. Fingerprints.”
“Martin Robertson broke into Ironwood to scavenge it,” Dani said. “He could have done the same to the carriage house. If Martin’s fingerprints are there–”
“Then Cage is going to need a lawyer.”
“I should call Oren, have him contact someone.” Jaymee’s face was tense but calm. She chewed on her lower lip, nodding in thought.
“Let Cage do that,” Nick said. “He knows how to handle the situation. You jumping the gun and bringing in a lawyer isn’t going to help him look innocent.”
“So we just have to wait?” Dani crushed the paper cup between her shaking hands.
“I’m sorry, but for now, yes. You’ve got to have some faith in Cage. He usually leads this dance. He knows how it works.”
Jaymee looked as disgusted as Dani felt. “Please tell me you have some information on Ben Moore at least.”
“Actually, I do. Was planning to call you shortly. I’ve got a buddy who works in real estate,” Nick said. “Keeps his eye out for all the deals going down above and below the table. He did some digging, talked to one of the girls who works in Ben’s brokerage. Grace called the morning after you and Cage found the bodies. Girl remembered because she took the phone call, and Grace couldn’t stop chattering about the awful news. Ben spent an hour in his office on the phone with Norton Investments. Then he said he was taking the week off to conduct some business in Roselea.”
Dani wasn’t surprised, but the confirmation of the news felt like a swift kick in the kidneys. She gritted her teeth. “So he talked to Norton about buying Ironwood from me.”
“That’s what I wanted to know,” Nick said. “So I visited Ben’s office, chatted up the girl. She’s young, new to the real estate game. Likes to gossip. Finally got her to admit that before he left for Roselea, Ben bragged he’d just made a deal with Norton that would make him millions.”
“How is that possible?” Jaymee asked. “Ironwood isn’t going to bring that much, and he’s only getting a broker’s fee, right?”
“Norton investments wants to combine the Ironwood and Semple lands together and create a Southern theme retreat for tourists. A hotel that looks like a big plantation, but with all the amenities of a Hilton. Rumor has it they planned for a recreational center, too. Something to target locals. A new place to bring their kids.”
“And a great place to appeal to the tourists’ need for creature comforts,” Jaymee said.
“Plenty of people like to come to the Old South for just that–the old South,” Dani argued. “Staying in a plantation that’s a bed and breakfast and being able to tour the old home appeals to them.”
“Yeah, but those places only have so many beds,” said Nick. “And kids don’t love it. Their parents do. So if you’ve got a couple of whining kids, are you going to stay in the restored plantation that has to charge a pretty penny to keep up, or go down the road to the historic land with the new resort that charges reasonable rates?”
The bratty kids from the diner flashed into Dani’s mind. “All right. But how would Ben Moore make millions?”
“Because in exchange for commission, he’s getting a percentage of ownership of Ironwood and a cut of the profits of the new hotel and resort.”
31
This time, he wasn’t in Gina’s office. Instead he sat in the station’s singular interview room. Windowless and painted a dingy brown, the room resembled the inside of a shoebox. An aged table and two chairs were the only furniture in the room, and they were purposefully uncomfortable. Cage sat in the hard chair, hands folded on the table, and smiled at Landers. “Where’s your boss?”
“Gina’s busy. I’m handling this myself.”
Which meant Gina may not even know of the new evidence, let alone that Landers had hauled Cage in like he was ready to make an arrest.
“All right. Let’s get to it, then.”
“You in a hurry?” Landers’s square face beamed. “Did look like I interrupted something. Sorry for any discomfort.” He smirked.
Cage matched his arrogance. “Not at all. I’m happy to help.”
Landers inhaled sharply. He rested one hand on the table, reclining in the chair so that the buttons on his shirt prepared for launch. Cage idly wondered if those suckers could take his eye out if they came shooting across the table.
“So, after we finished searching the carriage house, we moved to the rest of the grounds.”
“How’s that going? And I hope you were careful. What’s left of the icehouse and dairy are pretty unstable.”
“What about the well?”
“The one out front? Covered.” Cage worked hard to keep his tone even. Now wasn’t the time to have a pissing contest with the investigator. “Matter of fact, I think it’s about dried up.”
“It’s still got some water.”
“You opened it?”
“We did. Took two men. Of course, one was me, forty pounds overweight with a bad back, and the other was the size of an overgrown kid, so we were a bit handicapped.” Landers made a show of sizing Cage up. “But you…what are you? Six feet four? 190? Clearly, you’re a strong guy.”
“Thanks for noticing.”
Landers huffed a laugh. “I figure you could have opened the well on your own. Just a cement slab with a crude handle.”
“I’ve never opened it. I have tripped over it a couple of times. Landed face first and got a mouth full of grass. Was awesome.” Cage was losing patience.
“We found some more goodies tossed at the bottom. Took a while to get them out.”
Cage nodded politely and waited for the hammer to drop.
“They were in the same kind of black trash bag we found with the bodies. Can you guess what they were?”
He could–he wasn’t exactly a rookie cop. But he damned sure wasn’t going to admit that to Landers. Cage shook his head.
“Another heavy black coat. Size 3x. Deerhide gloves, too
.”
“Huh.” So the killer had only buried one set of items with the victims. Why? Did he find the others after he finished the graves? Run out of space?
Landers’s grin stretched across his entire face. “My reaction exactly. And I knew I had to bring you in right away.”
So Gina likely had no idea Cage was here. Good. Means she might still have some sense.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” Cage played along.
“I’d like you to say you threw them in there after you killed those men. Make this easy for me.”
Cage smirked. “But I cannot tell a lie.”
“You’ve been lying since we discovered the bodies.” Landers dropped his efforts at pleasantries. “And wasting this county a lot of money. Why don’t you try doing the right thing and tell me the truth?”
“You’re right. It’s time I admit it. I was a shitty caretaker. Whatever happened at Ironwood probably happened on my watch. Right under my nose.”
Landers scowled. “You won’t be so cocky when the forensic evidence comes back and links you to these men. We’ve got fibers. A hair. It’s being tested.”
“Any idea when the results are coming? Because I’d love to get you off my back.”
“By the end of the week, I’m told.”
Cage stood. “Perfect. Did you need anything else?”
“Sit down.”
“I feel like we’ve been here before,” Cage said. “You don’t have anything but muddled circumstantial evidence.”
He wouldn’t have been surprised if steam burst out of Landers’s ears. “In the meantime, you might want think about what you’re going to do when the forensic evidence doesn’t match me. Have you done any checking into Ben Moore? Or found out who the second victim is? Talked to their friends and families?
“Of course we have. In fact, Gina’s doing that right now.”
“But you just want to pin this on me. Why?”
“I don’t like you. And you’re a logical choice.” Landers’s gaze ping-ponged between Cage and the door. “And I’d like to go out on a closed note.”
“Go out?”
“Early retirement. End of the month.” Landers’s jaw actually quivered. Cage realized the decision hadn’t been the investigator’s. He’d heard rumors of department cutbacks, but this was the first casualty. “So I’d like to close this case.”
“By railroading me?” Cage rested his hands against the back of the wooden chair, shaking his head. “You’re a better cop than that.”
“I’m not railroading you. I honestly believe you had something to do with this.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.” Cage headed for the door, the skin on the back of his neck burning under Landers’s angry gaze. “Since you didn’t ask, no, I never saw anyone else on the property. But we knew people had been tramping around in there before I became caretaker. I thought I had the place locked down, but apparently I didn’t. And Ben Moore admitted to Dani he knew the grounds very well. You need anything else, please, give me a call.”
Cage let the door slam behind him without looking back.
* * *
Jaymee sent Dani home. The evening rush hit the restaurant, and there was nothing either woman could do until Cage called. Nothing but sit and wait and try not to let the rising gorge of impending panic choke her.
So she waited. Curled up in the comfortable recliner in Magnolia House’s front room, the ceiling fan spinning, she waited. Minutes ticked by and stretched into an hour and then two. Jaymee called twice, but other than that, Dani’s phone was silent.
Why hadn’t Cage called? He’d need a ride from the station.
He’d been arrested. She was sure of it.
Unable to sit any longer, she meandered through the house, taking a mental inventory of all the things Jaymee could do in order to bring Magnolia up to par with a showplace like Oak Lynn. Dusk approached, and beyond the thick cloud cover, a faint glow of orange signaled the transition to a muggy night.
Still no word from Cage.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She would call the police station and demand answers.
The sound of the front door opening rolled through the house. Jaymee must have left early. Good. At least Dani wouldn’t have to wait alone.
“Dani?” Cage’s voice soothed the raging worry. “You here?”
Her bare feet thudded on the gleaming oak floors as she hurried to the foyer. Without stopping to think, she flung herself into Cage’s arms.
“Why didn’t you call? You said you’d call, that I’d pick you up. I’ve been waiting! I thought they’d arrested you!”
Cage pressed a finger to her lips. “Slow down. I can’t understand you when you talk that fast.”
She took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you call?”
“I’m sorry. My phone died, and I decided to walk. Needed to clear my head.”
“What happened? Is the evidence bad?”
His smirk didn’t reach his tired eyes. “No. Landers was fishing.”
Dani listened in shock as Cage told her about the items tossed into the well. She didn’t understand how he could be so calm.
“Someone tried to frame you.”
“Looks like it. And someone strong enough to open that well. Not sure Lee could pull that off.”
“Ben Moore could.” Dani tasted acid with the words. “But why bury the bodies at Ironwood? With the dog tags, you’d still have been a suspect.”
“Maybe he sees it as some sort of screwed-up poetic justice. As revenge, since he knows how I feel about the history of Roselea.”
“And why not put all the clothing in with the bodies? Why separate them?”
Cage shook his head, a lock of hair falling into his eyes. “I have no clue.”
She almost didn’t want to share what Nick had found out. Cage would want to go after Ben right now to clear his name, and she wasn’t sure that was a good idea. They needed a plan.
But she’d never been very good at hiding her thoughts. Cage slid an arm around her.
“What is it?”
She spoke quietly. “Nick found out that if Ben Moore can get me to sell Ironwood, Norton Investments will make him a partner in the resort they intend to build.”
Cage’s face went still. He closed his eyes and then opened them again. “He’s sure of this?”
“Yes.”
“All right, then.” He got to his feet. “Time to go see Ben Moore.”
Dani jumped up and grabbed his arms. “You can’t just go over there and start making accusations. And none of this means he killed anyone.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’s trying to use you, and that ends tonight.”
“Nothing good will come of you barging into Oak Lynn and confronting him. Besides, what will Grace think? She might not agree with what he did, but he’s her son. You don’t want to upset her like that.”
The muscles in his arms twitched. Dani moved her hands along his biceps, across his broad shoulders, and brought them to rest on his cheeks. She brushed her thumb across his lips. “But if you stay here with me…”
She didn’t need to say anything more. Cage’s mouth crashed against hers, hot and demanding. Her hands threaded through his wavy hair as he grabbed her thighs and hefted her into his arms. Between kisses, she managed to gasp the location of her bedroom.
Cage took the stairs two at a time, his face buried in her neck. The guest room door was open, and he kicked it shut before depositing her on the bed. Eyes hooded and face bright with need, he crawled on top of her.
Dani hadn’t been with a man in a long time–she wasn’t one to jump into bed after a few dates. But she welcomed Cage with wanting arms, legs going around his waist to pull his body closer. She wanted to know everything about him at once. Did he like a rough touch or a soft, delicate stroke? Was he loud? Would she be too loud?
Somehow, her shirt came off, and then his. Pants soon followed. Heart pumping fast enough to rob her breath, hands grasping, reachin
g, whispering her need for him, she pulled him closer.
His mouth and hands trailed over her warm skin, his fingers soft despite their calluses. She clung to his broad shoulders, lost in his closeness. And still, he wasn’t close enough.
“Dani.” His moan was laced with more than lust, more than yearning, more than pent-up desire.
And when he was ready, there was no preamble, no teasing. He entered her slowly, and she cried out his name. Her fingernails dug into his back as they moved as one. He knew her as though they’d always been together, knew where to touch and how to make her plead for more.
Resting his forehead against hers, his gaze never leaving hers, he brought her over the precipice once, twice, and finally, a third time before he succumbed.
They collapsed together, spent and sweating and satiated. She snuggled into the crook of his neck, kissing his jaw. “Aren’t you glad you stayed?”
32
Dani slept peacefully on his chest, but Cage lay awake, studying the pattern in the wallpapered ceiling. His thoughts were a swirling vortex, caught between the peacefulness of Dani’s arms and the irony of his sleeping with her in Jaymee’s house.
He’d barely thought to text his friend to let her know he wasn’t in jail before pulling Dani on top of him for a lingering second session. Jaymee didn’t cross his mind again.
Until now. It was almost nine p.m., and she’d be home any minute. He figured the least he could do was let her know he was staying over instead of just shacking up without a word.
Carefully, he slid from the warmth of Dani’s arms. His jeans were somewhere in the corner, his shirt over the back of the chair. He’d barely made it to the bottom of the winding staircase when the front door opened. He froze, shirt half on, pants still unbuttoned.
Jaymee stood framed in the doorway, the porch light silhouetting her in shadow.
He cleared his throat. “Better close the door before the mosquitoes get in.” He finished getting dressed and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “How was work?”