by Barb Han
Carrie wasn’t going crazy. The dress was missing.
* * *
DADE HADN’T MADE it halfway to Carrie’s house when his cell ringtone cut through the air. He answered it hands-free.
“Someone’s been in my house,” she said breathlessly, and he could hear the panic in her voice.
“When? Now?” A shot of panic gripped him. He wasn’t close enough to get to her if an intruder was in the house.
“No. The other day,” she supplied, and the tightness in his chest loosened up a notch. He was far from comfortable, but at least there was no immediate threat. But someone had been there this morning if they’d left the flower. He would’ve seen it when he let Coco out otherwise.
“How do you know?” Dade needed to be certain she wasn’t in danger. And he sure as hell would handle things differently moving forward. The first of which would be to add security to her residence.
“One of my dresses is missing. My favorite jogging suit disappeared, too, but I thought Brett had it and now I’m not so sure.” She paused a beat. “Oh, no. There were crumbs on the floor the other day. Dog treats that Coco used to love, but I stopped buying them because the vet said she was putting on weight too fast. I thought she found a leftover bag, but I was sure I’d tossed them all out.”
“Stay right where you are. I’ll call Ed.”
“I don’t want to be here and I have to go into the sweet shop. My employees need to see that I’m okay. And—” Carrie was a little breathless.
“Slow down. Tell me what you need me to do.”
“There’s nothing you can do, Dade. You can’t fix this. Not with Brett’s murderer still on the loose and some unknown person messing with me. My world is suddenly spinning out of control.”
“We’ll find out who killed Brett and we’ll put a stop to whoever is bothering you,” he reassured her, but she was dangerously close to a complete meltdown.
“I keep thinking about that thing on my back porch and I don’t want to be inside my house right now. Bad luck is like a boomerang and keeps coming back.” Based on her quick bursts of air in between words he figured she was pacing.
“I’ll see to it the deputy takes it in as evidence. I can assure you it won’t return.” He’d ask if there was any way he was going to convince her to stay put, but he didn’t much care for investing time in lost causes. Especially when he already knew the answer. She was as stubborn as she was beautiful.
“I’ll take Coco to work with me. She has a bed in my office from the early days before I could afford employees and I literally spent every waking moment at work.” She was offering assurances to him that she’d be okay. Her mind was already made up, and there was precious little he could do to change it.
Carrie having her dog with her at all times did make him feel a little more comfortable. Still, he’d been on edge since hearing about Brett’s murder. Since another rose had showed up, he worried about something else, too—her safety while at home. “I’ll meet you at the shop.”
Dade ended the call and banked a U-turn at the first intersection. The sweet shop was actually closer than her house, so he beat her there and parked in the empty lot across the street. He needed to make a couple of calls while he made sure she arrived intact. And then he’d take care of her house.
There was chaos across the street at her sweet shop. Slipping past the clump of media crews to get inside without drawing more unwanted attention would be next to impossible. At least the festival workers were gone. That should bring Carrie a small sense of relief that she wouldn’t have to deal with Nash on top of everything else. Which also, most likely, meant that he wasn’t responsible for the flower. Her ex was instantly ruled out, but someone connected to him, like his mother, was a real possibility. Especially after the outburst at the sheriff’s office that had upset Carrie.
Dade cut off the engine and grabbed his cell. His first contact was Ed.
“I just got out of a meeting with the sheriff,” Ed started right in.
“Where does Carrie stand?” Her status as a witness or suspect heavily influenced their next couple of moves.
“He’s looking at her as a witness, but that could change,” Staples supplied. “Samuel Jenkins corroborated the story about Nash from the other night. It’s giving her more credibility.”
“I also think I can help out with that.” He told Ed about the flower and the missing clothes.
“The sheriff needs to know immediately.” Ed said he’d call Dade back after updating Sawmill. It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes for Dade’s cell to ring and the two of them to pick up the conversation where they’d left off.
“What did Sawmill think?” Dade asked.
“He found it interesting and assured me that he’ll do everything he can to find the responsible party,” Ed said. “We need to take measures to ensure her safety while the investigation continues.”
“You think the person leaving her gifts and Brett’s murderer are the one and the same?” Dade was already on that trail.
“It’s suspicious. I hope I impressed the sheriff with that thinking,” Ed supplied.
Now that there was a murder involved, her case should rise on Sawmill’s priority list. “Did he say what evidence he has that she could possibly be involved in Brett’s murder?”
“Right now, he has a statement from the deceased’s mother indicating that Carrie had threatened her son if he didn’t leave her alone,” Ed said. “There are others who have come forward to witness the argument from yesterday and the fact that she attacked him with a rock.”
Dade released a disgusted grunt.
“I know what you’re going to say, and I also know that’s not what happened. I’m telling you what people think they saw.” Ed’s sympathy came through the line. At least Ed didn’t believe the lies. His confidence in Carrie would go a long way toward building a strong defense. There was nothing like truth and righteous belief to make a man go to the ends of the earth to find proof of innocence.
“Even if Carrie threatened her ex, and I doubt that she did, I don’t believe Brett would’ve taken them seriously. Not with the way I witnessed the man treat her in front of her shop. The guy was trying to bully her back into a relationship with him.” Dade white-knuckled the steering wheel with his free hand. Unbelievable.
“The sheriff requested a statement from you.”
“I figured that was coming.” Dade was more than happy to provide his side of the story, especially if it could help Carrie.
“Witnesses put you at the scene of their falling-out, and some believe that the two of you are in a relationship.” Ed’s voice changed and Dade immediately sensed the reason.
“I didn’t hurt the man, no matter how much I dislike the kind of men who think it’s fine and dandy to put a hand on a woman. I’d be willing to take a lie detector test if that’ll clear my name and keep the sheriff from chasing down crazy theories.” Dade knew all about how lost the sheriff’s office could get during an investigation—they weren’t any closer to finding out who’d murdered the Mav.
“That shouldn’t be necessary, and I didn’t suspect you in the least. I need to ask Carrie if she’ll relinquish phone records to the sheriff,” Ed said.
“She has nothing to hide, so I doubt that’ll be a problem.” Dade was confident on that point.
“I didn’t think so.”
“Can’t the sheriff subpoena her records, though?” Dade figured either way the sheriff would get what he wanted.
“This would be a lot faster, and her cooperation will go a long way toward keeping her where we want her, which is on the witness list. Plus, if she volunteers the information, the sheriff will see her as aiding his investigation. It’ll win points.”
“She’ll be here in a few minutes. Tell me what you need her to do.” Dade didn’t figure there’d be any pushback from Carrie. She wanted Brett’s murde
r solved.
Dade listened as Ed rattled off a couple of items to add to today’s to-do list. At the top was giving the sheriff access to her cell phone records and her house. Dade took notes before asking, “Did the sheriff mention anything about the complaint she filed the other night against the guy who threatened her in the alley?”
“He mentioned a festival worker known as Nash, who his office is tracking down,” Ed said.
How hard could it be to find a man who worked with a festival that publicized its schedule? “I can probably tell him where to look with a quick online search.”
“You might find the festival, but you won’t find him. He can’t be located,” Ed stated.
“I saw him yesterday late morning in the parking lot of Carrie’s shop,” Dade supplied.
“Then that makes you the last person to see him.” There was dread in Ed’s voice.
“What about the people who witnessed the argument yesterday? Surely they saw him, too.” Dade didn’t like the sound of those words.
“They weren’t looking for him, so even if they saw him they most likely wouldn’t remember.” Ed had a point.
“What you’re telling me is the man could be anywhere.” Dade raked his hand through his hair, trying to tame the curls. Nash might’ve left that flower at her doorstep after all.
“According to his employer, he’s most likely sleeping off a hangover on someone’s couch. Or at least that was the excuse he gave when he didn’t show up for work last month for three consecutive days,” Ed supplied.
“If he has a drinking problem, why would they hire him to work around kids?” Dade asked.
“Apparently he’s in recovery, but he seems to be having trouble keeping it together since losing his brother,” Ed said. “His boss told him three strikes and he’s out. This is the third.”
“Which means he won’t be showing up at work asking for another chance,” Dade said.
“I asked the same question. His employer says he’ll be back. Said he has no other family and the news about his brother hit him hard. His boss said he’s a decent person when he’s sober,” Ed supplied.
Dade wasn’t so sure about that. But then, Carrie had said the man had had alcohol on his breath when he’d threatened her. Dade released the white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel. “What happened to his brother?”
“Overdose,” Ed supplied. “He’d been an addict for most of his life.”
“I’m sorry.”
Dade maintained a moment of silence.
“There’s no history of crimes against women with Nash,” Ed supplied.
With this investigation, Dade hated the thought that rumors would abound, possibly dredging up painful memories for her.
“Is there anything in Carrie’s past I need to know about?” Ed asked.
“She had it tough growing up, being tossed around from foster family to group home,” Dade shared. “There was abuse, in some cases severe.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Ed paused for a couple of beats. “I’m even sorrier that I have to ask if she’s been involved in illegal activity.”
“You wouldn’t be good at your job if you weren’t thorough,” he conceded. His protective instincts always flared when it came to Carrie. Speaking of whom, he saw her car slow down and then pass right by the parking lot. “I don’t know everything she’s endured, but she has amazing internal strength to have gotten where she is today after the start in life she had.”
Dade’s phone buzzed in his hand, indicating another call was coming through.
“It’s Carrie. I’ll have to call you back,” he said to Ed.
“Let me know when the sheriff can access her house and make sure no one goes inside until evidence is collected,” Ed reminded him before ending the call.
“Where are you?” Carrie asked as soon as Dade answered.
“I’m in the lot across the street from your shop.” He caught sight of a trio making a beeline straight toward him—reporters? They might’ve recognized his truck. “But I’m about to be on the move. Can your business at the shop wait until later?”
A long sigh came through the line. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.”
“Meet me at Grover’s,” he said.
“The auto repair shop on Beekman Avenue?” she asked.
“That’s the one. And Carrie—” he started.
“What is it, Dade?”
He didn’t want to tell her, but she needed to know. “Nash hasn’t reported to work—”
She gasped.
“No one knows where he is, so be on the lookout in case you get to Grover’s before I do.”
Chapter Ten
Carrie drove slowly to Grover’s, scanning the area at every stoplight, looking for Nash. The thought of him being out there, somewhere, didn’t do good things to her pulse, and for a split second she questioned whether he could have something to do with Brett’s murder.
Logic said it was impossible because Nash had no idea who Brett was other than seeing her talk to him in the parking lot yesterday. Unless there was a connection she didn’t know about.
Nash had been far more intimidated by Dade and so would most likely try to erase him in order to get to Carrie. Right? But nothing made sense anymore and she couldn’t rule anything out.
After being brought up to date on Dade’s conversation with Ed, Carrie surmised that Nash was a transient festival worker who was losing his battle with alcoholism. He had no history of rape or assault, although Carrie feared he might’ve been well on his way to his first that night in the alley. And, there was no way Tyson knew who Nash was. Tyson. What would happen to him now that Brett was gone? He was too aggressive with other dogs for her to feel safe leaving him alone with Coco, or Carrie would volunteer to take him in herself. But then, Ms. Strawn would surely want her son’s dog.
She circled the block until she saw Dade’s truck pull into the parking lot, not wanting to take any chances of being alone even though she had her dog. Based on Coco’s performance with the neighbor and seeing how easily she’d warmed up to Dade—although Carrie couldn’t fault her dog there—she didn’t want to tempt fate. She parked next to him and locked her doors. Coco eagerly followed Carrie into Dade’s truck.
“We’ll keep a low profile until the buzz settles down at your shop,” he said. “With all the media surrounding the case, I filled my family in on the way over. They’d like to offer help in any way they can. I’ve arranged for extra security to control who has access to your property and keep an eye on your home. Media might blitz the place as soon as someone figures out your house is being treated like a crime scene.”
“Right. I hadn’t even thought of reporters.” She appreciated Dade’s thoughtfulness even more. Emotions tugged at Carrie’s heart, emotions like acceptance and warmth. Experience had taught her they’d be ripped away before she could get used to them.
She buckled into her seat and thanked him with as much sincerity as she could without breaking the emotional dam protecting her heart.
“Ed thinks it would be best if you turned your phone over to the sheriff.” She was trying to absorb everything. Dade was covering a lot of bases for her, and life was moving at such a high rate of speed that she needed to kick into high gear to keep up.
“Okay.” She paused to process what he was saying.
“Sawmill wants my statement, too, so we should swing by together. I doubt it’ll take long,” he said. “Ed informed me that Samuel went in for questioning and basically said the same things we did about Nash the other night, which bought us some credibility.”
“I keep going over and over everything in my head, and I can’t figure out who could’ve gotten past Tyson,” she finally said, taking a sip of the coffee Dade had offered. Carrie absently stroked Coco, who was curled up on the front seat between her and Dade.
/> “A dog bred and trained to protect is usually good at his job,” Dade agreed.
Carrie searched her brain for the missing piece, the link that would click everything together and paint the picture. “None of this makes sense.”
“I know.” His voice was calm and held none of the panic hers did. She wanted to get lost in that feeling, if only for an hour or two.
“It just keeps following me,” she said quietly.
“What does?” Dade kept his gaze on the stretch of road in front of them. He was so good at moving forward despite everything going on around him.
“A dark cloud.”
“There’s no such thing.” His reaction was so fast, so instinctual that she almost believed him.
“I’ll lose my business. Everything I’ve worked for.” She hated the defeat in her voice, but it hurt to say those words.
“It won’t come to that.” Easy for Dade to say. Everything in Carrie’s life had been fleeting. This would be no different. And there was no way a man like Dade could understand where she was coming from. The Butler kids had always been close. It was common knowledge that if one was in trouble, the others rallied around to help, no questions asked. Carrie had no idea what it would feel like to have so many people around ready to catch her if she fell. The concept was foreign to someone used to being alone and looking out for herself. And it wasn’t self-pity causing these thoughts. It was truth. And her strength had always been in looking at what she had to deal with honestly and then figuring out a way to survive.
Dade must’ve sensed her thinking because he added, “I won’t let your business fail because of this.” His words were so quiet she almost didn’t hear them. There was a promise there that even Dade couldn’t deliver on. He couldn’t take away the darkness that followed her. Not even Dade Butler could bring Brett back to life, stop the person who was messing with her or keep her business afloat.
* * *
A FEW QUIET days could hardly erase the shock of Brett’s murder. National broadcasts had picked up Brett’s story, reporting on a wave of crime in small-town Texas, and his mother and sister had already given several tearful interviews, some of which Carrie was certain they’d received payment for. At least Ed had warned them about going on air and accusing Carrie of murder. He’d been quick to point out that he’d file a lawsuit if that was the case.