by anna snow
Why was he purring? The little traitor. Even my cat wasn't immune to Tyler's charm.
I blew out a frustrated breath. "The day I paid a visit to Hatchett's home—"
"The day you broke in, you mean?" The corner of Tyler's mouth quirked up.
"Whatever." I brushed his interruption away, and he chuckled. "I found some receipts in a hidden cubby in the bottom of Lydia's nightstand."
"How'd you find the cubby?"
"The bottom sounded hollow when I knocked on it." I shrugged.
Tyler jotted down some notes. "Are you sure that the nightstand you were rifling through didn't belong to Robert?" he asked, then reached for his cup of cocoa and raised the cup to his lips.
"Let's just say that the contents of the opposite nightstand told me loud and clear who it belonged to. Unless I'm mistaken and Lydia Hatchett had some use for a bottle of Jerkins lotion and a Blu-ray copy of Busty MILFS IV"
Tyler nearly choked on his cocoa and quickly grabbed a napkin from the table. Kelly let out a belly laugh. It wasn't what I was going for, but it broke what little tension was left in the room, so hey, score one for me.
"That little man has a freaky bone? He looks so unassuming" Kelly mused.
"Wait." Tyler held up a hand. "When did you meet Robert Hatchett?"
"We talked to him yesterday morning, and just to be clear, I don't think he killed his wife."
Tyler shook his head. "Well, that makes two of us."
"Good," Kelly piped up from her spot in my cozy oversized armchair. "That guy is really hurting right now."
"Who exactly do you think killed Lydia?" I asked.
"Honestly,"—Tyler sat his mug back on the table and reached over to pet Mickey again—"I think it was your guy Jason. His money clip, jacket, and fingerprints were found at the murder scene. His alibi is shaky at best since there is no one to corroborate it, and after asking around, I think he and Lydia were in fact having an affair. All signs point to Jason King as the killer."
"But all of your evidence is circumstantial," Kelly said. "You lack a motive and proof as to whether or not the murder weapon you found is his."
"Exactly." He nodded. "But I still think he's the guy. I have some more avenues to explore, but I think they'll all lead back to Jason. Correct me if I'm wrong, but from what I understand, he isn't the most honest guy around." His gaze bore into mine, and I had to look away.
"Well, you're right about them having an affair," I said. What the hell. He'd shared his findings with me. I might as well play fair.
"What? How do you know that?" he asked.
"Jason paid a visit to my office just before I left for Trinity Grove. He admitted that they were having an affair, but with that admission aside, I still don't think he's our killer. I mean, I know Jason. He's a liar and a cheat, but there isn't a violent bone in his body," I said.
"So, Jason confirmed that they were having an affair? Why did he tell you?" Tyler asked.
"Probably because it was easier than keeping it hidden. It's not like he and I haven't had the affair discussion before."
Tyler frowned, but I ignored him.
"Seriously, I started to suspect that he and Lydia were having an affair after I found a business card with his handwriting setting up a date mixed in with the receipts that I found in Lydia's nightstand. After that, when Kelly and I questioned Robert, he told us that his wife had been leaving the house more than usual to meet old friends that she'd reconnected with on Facebook."
"He told me the same thing," Tyler said.
"But he said that after her funeral when none of her supposed friends showed up, he got curious and went online to snoop." I took a quick sip of my cocoa.
"So did I," Tyler said. "I couldn't find her on Facebook."
"Neither could Robert, but I'm sure you already know that," I said. "Robert told us that he knew immediately that she'd been lying to him, but he didn't know why. That's when he started to suspect her of having an affair, but when Jason's jacket, money clip, and fingerprints were found in their bedroom after the murder, it pretty much cinched his suspicions. So when I confronted Jason about it, he spilled the details."
"What were the receipts you found in Lydia's nightstand for?"
I readjusted my blanket. "They were for the Trinity Grove Motel. They were all dated for Friday and Saturday nights. I went to the motel last night hoping to get some answers from the night manager."
"And did you?"
Now this was where it got tricky. How much of what I found should I tell Tyler? I'd already told him more than I thought I should've if I wanted to be the one who solved this case. I knew that I should tell him everything so that he could do his job, but if I did that, I'd be allowing him to do my job too. Then where would I be? Refunding Jason's money and telling him there was nothing I could do to help him. I'd be admitting defeat, even if Tyler decided that Jason wasn't the killer, and that was something I absolutely refused to do.
But, Tyler had shared a huge piece of evidence with me and was willing to continue to do so. I owed him the truth.
Mind made up, I shrugged and forged ahead. "I talked to the night manager at the motel. She didn't like the idea of someone asking questions, but she answered the ones I asked." I rubbed the aching knot on my forehead. "She admitted that she remembered Lydia. She said Lydia almost always rented multiple rooms and that the last time she saw her, she was interested in buying a secluded cabin out by the lake."
Tyler tapped the pen he held against the small pad of paper sitting on his knee, then motioned for me to continue.
"That's what I was doing out in Trinity Grove. Mandy did a public records search and found that Lydia did in fact purchase a cabin. I headed back out to the Grove today to talk to the man who sold Lydia the cabin."
I decided to leave out the part where I'd discovered exactly what Lydia was doing in that cabin for now. That was an avenue that I wanted to pursue further. As far as I was concerned, I still had a killer to catch.
Tyler's frown deepened. "Did you learn anything from the contractor?"
"No. Just that he sold the cabin, the woman who bought it said she wanted it specifically because it was secluded, and that she had passed recently. After I left, I drove out to the cabin to check the place out. On my way home, I got turned around and didn't find my way back to the highway until it was dark."
"What did you find at the cabin?" he asked.
Although we were sharing information, I wasn't quite ready to divulge what I'd found where the cabin and Lydia's side business were concerned, so I decided to keep the gigolo business to myself for the time being.
"The gates were locked. I couldn't get in," I lied. "I looked around the outside, but there were cars in the drive, so I didn't spend much time looking around."
He frowned at me but let the subject drop.
"Did you see who ran you off of the road?" he asked.
"It was a truck. I know that from the size. Possibly dark in color, but the driver had his brights on, so I really can't be sure who was behind the wheel. I could only see a silhouette. I thought whoever was in the truck was a joyriding teenager, but when he started ramming into the back of my car, I knew I was mistaken." I shivered at the memory. "My steering wheel got stuck to the right, and I had to muscle it to stay on the road, but I was still veering to the right, and the bridge was coming up, so I had the choice of hitting the bridge head-on or steering into the culvert. The last time he slammed into me, I let go of the wheel, hit the culvert, and the car flipped. I grabbed my phone off the roof of the car where everything landed and called 9-1-1."
Tyler studied me. With every second that ticked by, the urge to squirm became almost unbearable.
"What aren't you telling me?"
I met Tyler's penetrating gaze. "What do you mean?"
He was staring at me with such intensity that I felt like I'd burst into flames if he didn't stop.
"You're leaving something out. What is it?"
My inner rebel deman
ded I keep my trap shut, but I ignored her. I'd intended to keep the fact that my would-be killer made a slow pass and stop to make sure the job was done to me, but Tyler was a good detective. Much better than I'd taken him for when we'd first met.
I took a deep breath, because I knew not only would this float like a lead balloon with Tyler, it was going to set Kelly off as well, since this one little fact cinched the reality that someone was actually trying to kill me.
But what choice did I have? They were both staring a hole through me, and from Tyler's expression, he wasn't taking no for an answer.
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose for a quick second, then spilled the beans.
"After my car came to a stop on its roof, the truck that ran me off of the road turned around and drove back past me in the other direction. He slowed way down, stopped, then sped up, and left the scene."
"You were going to hide that from us?" Tyler snapped.
"I didn't want anyone to worry about me. I can take care of myself," I said.
"Barb, someone definitely wants you dead. But who?" Kelly chewed her thumbnail the way she always did when she was stressed out. By morning it would be nothing but a sore, little pink nub with a Band-Aid on it.
"That's what I'm going to find out, starting with asking Jason King where the hell he was at the time of the wreck," Tyler said as he flipped his notepad closed.
"I already told you, Jason isn't Lydia's killer, and I'm sure he wasn't the one driving the truck," I argued.
Jason could barely drive a Prius.
"Let's agree to disagree about Jason King." Tyler stood and paced. "I really wish you would drop this case, Barb. It's just too dangerous."
"Drop this case? Have you lost your mind?" I asked. "What happened to the lets-share-information, let's-work-together business?" I asked. "Jason paid me. I promised him I would prove his innocence, and that's what I intend to do."
"For you to prove his innocence, he has to actually be innocent." He ran a hand through his hair. "Refund his freaking money, and drop this case, Barb. Someone's out to kill you, and he nearly succeeded tonight. You need to take a step back and let the professionals handle this."
"Professionals?" I set my mug down on the table with a clink, and Mickey took that as his cue to find another lap to curl up on and fled. Tyler implying that I wasn't a professional raised my hackles more than nearly being killed.
"Refund his money? Drop the case? Are you crazy?" I tossed the blanket off my legs and stood. "Are you going to pay my rent? Utilities? What about my employees? They depend on this job. And what about my career?" I threw my hands in the air. "Am I supposed to drop the biggest case I've ever been given just because things have gotten a little bumpy, and it would make you feel better? Well," I pointed my finger at him. "That's just not going to happen, chief."
I was on a roll, and that was never a good thing. I tended to let my mouth write checks my behind couldn't cash when I let that happen, but Tyler had me riled up whether he'd intended to or not. My head hurt, and I was done with the night. Completely done. I wanted nothing more than a hot bubble bath and to snuggle beneath the downy linens of my bed.
Tyler stared at me as though I'd just sprouted a second head, and Kelly just sat back with a smile, enjoying the show. She was about as much help as Mickey, who'd conveniently found a new place to sit on her lap.
"Yes, I wanted to work together with you on this, but that was before you confirmed that someone was trying to kill you. Whoever ran you off of the road wouldn't have crept past the wreck unless they were trying to make sure that they'd finished the job and that you were dead. Barb, I'm worried about you," Tyler said. His brilliant green eyes blazed beneath a fringe of thick, black, mile-long lashes that I would've killed to have and frowned. "Just think about dropping the case, please."
For a split second I almost fell into his request. How easy would it be to tell Jason that I was finished? To get whoever was trying to kill me off of my back and go back to busting cheating losers? But I wasn't a quitter, and I knew that Jason was innocent.
"I'm finishing this case."
Tyler took another step toward me. "Don't test me, Barb. I will put a tail on you. Do you know what that means? It means that I'll know every little thing that you do. When you grab a burger at the corner joint. When you check your mail. Even when you use the bathroom. You won't be able to step foot outside without me being told exactly what you're doing. Exactly how much investigating do you think you'll get done then, huh?"
"Go ahead." I shrugged. "Do what you think you have to do, but I'm warning you. If you push me, I'll push back."
Now, I wasn't sure why, but standing there arguing toe-to-toe with Tyler, his muscular form towering over me, his chest and biceps straining against the thin material of his tight, black T-shirt, his jaw clenched, had me a bit hot-and-bothered.
My palms started to sweat, and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, could feel the blush burning there.
Tyler stepped even closer to me, reached out, placed his finger beneath my chin, and raised my gaze to meet his. His eyes bore into mine, and a shiver slid down my spine.
"I said it once, and I'll say it again. I won't hesitate to do whatever I have to do to keep you safe, even if it means tossing your beautiful little behind in jail."
Once again I found myself standing in front of Tyler, my mouth hanging open, without a single comment, sassy or otherwise, to toss back at him.
Why did Tyler calling me beautiful send a wave of warmth swarming through me? Why did it scatter my wits like dandelion seeds on the wind?
I should be kicking and screaming to get my point through his thick head, but instead, there I stood like a big mute lump. Before I could ponder that particular question any further, Tyler turned and made his way to the door. Once there, he turned back to me.
"A patrol car will be parked across the street for the rest of the night just in case the person who ran you off of the road knows where you live and decides to make a surprise visit."
"By the person who ran me off the road, do you mean Jason?" I asked and crossed my arms across my chest.
Tyler glared at me and shoved the pad of paper he still held in one hand into his back pocket. "Stay inside, and I'll call you in the morning."
He didn't answer my question, probably because I already knew the answer.
"Fine."
"Kelly." He nodded in her direction, and she tossed out a salute. To my surprise, it wasn't her usual one-finger salute, which I would've preferred at the moment.
His eyes found mine once again, and I swear I saw one side of his mouth try to quirk up in a small smile. God, this man was a handful.
"Goodnight, Barb. Behave yourself."
CHAPTER EIGHT
The morning light peeking through the curtains of my bedroom window came way too early.
I raised my head off my pillow and frowned at the alarm clock. Nine o'clock flashed in big red numbers back at me. I flopped back down into my cozy cocoon and cringed at the tightness in my neck and the throbbing in my head.
I never slept this late, but considering the night I'd had, I didn't beat myself up too badly. I'd nearly been killed. I deserved a little rest…but only a little. I rolled over onto my back and draped my arm over my eyes. My entire body felt as though I'd been trampled by an elephant, but I guess that's to be expected after you've been in a wreck.
Kelly had stayed with me for an hour more after Tyler left. We'd watched a couple of reruns of Three's Company, because John Ritter was the bomb, and tried our best to put my near-death experience out of our minds, but that tension hung heavily in the air, and the question of who'd tried to kill me plagued our minds.
I hadn't told Kelly, even after Tyler left, about what I'd found at the cabin concerning Lydia's business venture. That was a huge conversation that I wanted to wait to have when all three of us were together. I was also a little afraid that if I told Kelly, she'd immediately try to make an appointment wi
th Silas.
I tried to stretch and was greeted with a sudden throbbing in my temples. It appeared moving at all was going to be a little harder as my aching body did its best to remind me of the previous night's activities.
I was about to pry myself out of bed and get the day started when my cat jumped up beside me. He nuzzled my cheek and began purring. I wrapped my arms around his slightly obese body. Hey, he likes people food too, and who am I to deny him? I pulled him close to my chest, and he snuggled against me like he had for the last twelve years that he'd been in my life.
"What a long night, Mickey," I said as he kneaded my forearm with his front paws.
I told my BFF (best furry friend) about my night, the case, and Tyler. Talking to Mickey always seemed to help me put things into perspective, probably because he didn't offer his opinion on what I should or shouldn't do. He just listened like a good friend should. Sometimes he gave me a look, but that was as far as his opinion went.
"So, do I back off and let Detective Smarty-pants have the case, or do I keep going?"
Mickey opened one eye and gave me a what-the-heck-do-you-think? look.
"That's what I thought." I smiled and patted his big belly.
Mickey decided he was finished with snuggle time, stood up, and made his way to the end of the bed. He trotted around in a circle a few times, then made himself at home among the rumpled-up bedding.
I got out of bed as quickly as my sore muscles would allow and made my way to the bathroom.
I turned on the shower and while the water heated up, brushed my teeth. I couldn't stop wondering who would try to kill me. It had made for a long, mostly sleepless night. All of the clues, as limited as they were, pointed to Lydia's murderer being my would-be killer. It couldn't be simple coincidence that I had questioned Robert Hatchett, the motel night manager, Melvin, and one of Lydia's studs and then was run off the road and nearly killed.
I was missing a lot of pieces to this puzzle. Pieces I needed to solve the case, put Mr. Hatchett at ease, free Jason, and rid myself of one would-be Barb killer.