by Jana DeLeon
“We’ll be there in five minutes,” he said and hung up the phone.
“Emily?” All she could manage was the name, but she knew Carter would understand the question.
“No. They’ve found Steven Adams. He’s at the police station right now for questioning. Detective Breaux wants us to listen in on the interrogation—see if anything sticks out to you.”
Alaina let out a breath of relief that nothing more had transpired with Emily. “Do you think he could be behind it all?”
Carter frowned. “I wish I could say yes, but apparently, his alibi is tight for the time Emily was attacked this morning.”
“Alibis can be paid for.”
“He was in the drunk tank on the north side of the city until this afternoon.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking but not as polite.”
“Another dead end. If he was in the drunk tank last night, he couldn’t have been breaking windows at the big mansion of horror in Calais either.”
“No.” Carter turned onto the boulevard and glanced over at her, frowning. “How well do you know Kurt McGraw? I know you worked with him, but what do you know about him other than his job?”
She shrugged. “He’s the spoiled, only child hailing from a family of Ivy League–educated career politicians, most of whom are raging drunks and unapologetic cheaters. The firm spends a lot of gratis time making deals to get them off drunk driving convictions or to cheaply rid them of wives they wish to trade in on a newer model.”
“They sound like lovely people. Is Kurt carrying on the drunken political tradition?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s got the drunken part down—he seems to be mentally stuck in frat boy mode even though college was years ago. He’s made no noise about politics as of yet, but I’m sure his family will push for it as soon as one of them wants to retire.”
“You said he got the promotion you should have—what was that about?”
She gave him a quick rundown of the situation.
“So Kurt’s family connections and the Warren case were used to pass you over?”
“That pretty much sums it up.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Thanks, but I think it might have been the best thing for me.”
“Really? Why?”
“If I’m being honest with myself, I haven’t been satisfied with my work for a long time, but if I’d gotten the partnership, I would never have left. This way, I can take some time and figure out what I really want to do.”
“And then the inheritance dropped in your lap.”
She nodded. “It seemed like a good opportunity to close myself away from the rush of the city, relax until I grew bored and do a lot of quiet contemplation on my future.”
“Ha. How’s that working out for you?”
“Yeah, well...I guess if I think about it all, it’s still the best thing. Look how easily someone got to Emily and broke into my condo. In Baton Rouge, I’d have been an easy target. At least Calais throws some curveballs.”
She looked over at him and smiled. “And in Calais, I have you instead of an overworked, spread-too-thin department.”
He frowned. “I talked to the forensics team when you were going over the contents of your bedroom. They were going to do a more thorough check, but there doesn’t appear to be any signs of a break-in.”
She sucked in a breath. “How is that possible? They don’t think I trashed my own home, do they? Besides, there are security pads everywhere. How could someone even get in the building and up to my floor without knowing the codes?”
“They don’t think you did it yourself. But either someone is very good at picking locks and hacking security systems or they had a key and the codes. Does anyone have a key except you?”
“The building manager and maintenance, but other than that, no. All of my extended family is in other states and I’m not close enough to anyone in Baton Rouge to give them a key to my place.”
“Did you ever leave your keys lying around at work?”
“I’m sure I did, but I don’t see...” A thought flashed through her mind and she lost concentration.
“Something just occurred to you,” Carter said.
“Kurt has a friend who lives in my building. I’ve seen him entering the elevators before. We’re supposed to go down and let in our guests, but he was alone.”
“His friend probably gave him the code so that he didn’t have to go down to meet him.”
“Probably. But it doesn’t make sense. Why would Kurt be upset over the Warren case? That case guaranteed him the partnership.”
“I don’t know, but what I do know is that he had access to your building and likely your keys, he could have overheard Emily’s call to you from the law office, and he was in Emily’s hospital room when she coded. If he’s not involved, he has the worst luck and timing of any individual in the world.”
She clenched the door handle until her pulse pounded in her fingertips. Could her lazy and ineffective former coworker really be behind all this terror? “Why didn’t the police tell me about their suspicions back at the condo?”
“They want to remove the lock from the door and do a more extensive search before making that final assessment. A fact like that can change the entire focus of an investigation and given all the seemingly connected issues and the fact that the perp is clearly willing to do physical harm, the police are going to make darn sure this investigation is clean and one hundred percent accurate.”
Slowly, she let out the breath and released her grip on the door handle. “You’re right. It’s my job to know you’re right. Why can’t I focus?”
“Because your job has never been personal.”
She looked over at him. “How did you get so smart?”
“My mom would tell you it’s because of her.”
She smiled. “Having met your mom, I think I’ll agree.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “We’re going to figure this out. I’m not going to rest until I do.”
A feeling of warmth ran through her and for the first time all day, she felt like things would ultimately be all right. What was it about Carter that made her feel as if he had the answers? As if his presence was all that was required to right her world? She’d never had such a strong connection with another person.
Except her mother.
* * *
CARTER LOOKED THROUGH the one-way glass into the interrogation room at Steven Adams. He was clearly hungover and more than a little angry at being dragged from one police department to another when he’d been expecting to walk free this afternoon. The only place he’d admitted to being in the past twenty-four hours was jail. The police already had proof of the bar where he’d gotten drunk, but his lips were sealed, even about that.
“He’s not going to tell us anything,” Carter said. “Either he’s responsible for part of the stuff that’s happened or he’s responsible for none of it but is happy it’s occurring. Either way, he’s not going to assist in an investigation.”
Alaina sighed. “Especially given who’s being targeted.”
“Exactly.”
“There’s nothing we can contribute here. I think we should head back to Calais and assess the situation at the house. We have to make it possible for you to stay there safely, and I want to alert everyone in town to be on the lookout for anything out of sorts. Calais residents don’t take kindly to someone threatening one of their own.”
“I’m a stranger.”
“Maybe that’s true now, but your mother wasn’t, and a lot of people remember her fondly. Besides, no man worth his salt likes to see a woman harassed, regardless of his feelings toward her.”
“The Southern-gentleman thing?”
“I’d like to believe just a gentleman thing. Let’s get out of here,” he said.
As they exited the viewing room, Detective Breaux came down the hall toward them. “We found a can of spray paint that matches that used o
n Winstrom’s car in Adams’s garage. The can was still in a bag from Carl’s Hardware along with the receipt for two cans charged to Adams’s credit card. No sign of the missing can anywhere in the garage or house.”
“What about his wife?”
“She’s thrilled we found him alive and swears she knows nothing about the paint. Her fingerprints aren’t on them, the bag or the receipt, so it’s possible she’s telling the truth.”
“So what’s your take on it?” Carter asked.
Detective Breaux shrugged. “Gut instinct? I think Adams went on a bender and spray-painted Winstrom’s car, but I won’t make a guess on any of the other things, except the attack on Ms. Jensen this morning. There’s no way that could have been him.”
“What about Larry Colbert? Anyone get a line on him yet?”
“No, but I think his wife is hiding something. When we questioned her before, it was only about the vandalism to Winstrom’s car. Now that the investigation has escalated to attempted murder, maybe she’ll be compelled to talk.”
“True,” Carter agreed, “especially if what she’s hiding gives him an alibi.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Detective Breaux said.
“Well, if you don’t need anything else from us, we’re going to head back to Calais and work on securing Alaina’s house. Let me know when you come up with something.”
Detective Breaux nodded. “And if you think of anything or you have any more issues in Calais, let me know.”
“Will do,” Carter said and they exited the police station.
“Did you tell Detective Breaux about Kurt having access to my building?” Alaina asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.
“Yeah. He’s going to be looking at Kurt very closely, but given his political connections, also very carefully.”
Alaina sighed. “Money and power complicate everything.”
“Depends on which side of the coin you’re on. For Kurt, it makes things easier.”
“Very true.” She looked out the windshield, her brow scrunched in concentration, then frowned. “Opportunity is there, but what I don’t have a line on at all is motive. If we assume the same person who hurt Emily is the one harassing me, I can’t think of any reason that Kurt would have for doing so. He got the partnership. I resigned from the firm. Why bother with me when I’m no longer a factor?”
“I don’t know.” Carter’s jaw flexed involuntarily. Those were the hardest three words he’d ever spoken. Never in his life had he wanted something as badly as he wanted to fix this situation for Alaina. And instead, he was experiencing another first—not being able to think of a single thing to make it better. So far, all of his attempts had been futile or produced more questions.
Maybe you’re too close.
The thought ripped through his mind and he clenched the steering wheel, not wanting to think about all the implications that came along with admitting that statement was true. The irony of the situation hit him full force. When William had asked him to check up on Alaina as a favor, he’d been peeved at the inconvenience, certain he’d butt heads with the city lawyer. Instead, the opposite had happened and he found himself in the impossible position of caring about someone who was destined to leave in a matter of weeks. The first day he’d driven to the house to meet Alaina, he’d been mentally tallying the days until she left.
Now, he wished that tally was bigger.
* * *
CARTER THREW his cell phone onto the kitchen countertop and turned to stare out the window into the swamp. Alaina could see his jaw flex, even from her vantage point on the other side of the counter. The call had been from Detective Breaux, but from Carter’s reaction, it wasn’t good news. What if something else had happened to Emily?
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice cracking.
He turned back around to face her and immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Emily is still in a coma, but her vitals are steady and there’s a guard in front of her room and another sitting with the nurse at the station tonight. No one is allowed by except the on-duty doctor, and only the nurse can approve him.”
She blew out a breath of relief. “I’m glad they stepped up security.”
“Me, too.”
“So what is wrong?”
He threw his hands in the air. “Nothing’s wrong, really. It’s the lack of forward movement that’s frustrating me.”
“I guess Detective Breaux didn’t make any headway with Kurt?”
“Ha. He lawyered up and refused to talk. Then the mayor called the police captain and interrupted dinner with his family to explain to the captain just how unhappy he was that such a fine young man was being railroaded so that the police could look like they were doing their job.”
“Figures. I expected as much.”
“Yeah, well, unless you get video of Kurt McGraw committing a crime, you’re not likely to get anywhere.”
She sighed. “Probably not. No progress with Colbert’s wife either?”
“She completely clammed up. Told him to arrest her or get off her porch, then went on to say that if he arrested her, she still wasn’t speaking except to her attorney.”
“Do you think Colbert’s behind it all? Maybe he and Adams were in it together.”
“Anything’s possible. Her refusal to tell where her husband is certainly doesn’t make him look all that innocent. But then, she’s not likely to care what he’s suspected of when she blames the firm for her daughter’s death.”
“And so I’m in the same position now that I have been since the beginning.” Alaina said what she knew he was thinking but didn’t want to voice. The reality was, as long as the attacker was roaming free, she was at risk. The Baton Rouge police didn’t have the manpower to send armed guards to Calais, and given the situation with her condo, she wasn’t safe there either.
Carter blew out a breath. “I know I said we’d stay at my place tonight, but I was thinking... No, never mind.”
“You want to set a trap for him.”
His eyes widened.
She gave him a small smile. “I did work with cops, remember?”
“It was a moment of weakness and a really bad thought. Forget it.”
“I don’t think so.” A million different scenarios ran through her mind, and she categorized and filed them all just like she used to when she was working a case.
“We both know this won’t stop until he gets what he wants or he gets caught,” she continued. “Even if he guessed where I was hiding, he’s not going to risk coming after me at your place. It’s too small and I don’t think he’s desperate...yet. But if we made it look like I was here alone, then he might take a shot at me here. With both of us ready for him, we have a chance to end this now. Tonight.”
Carter shook his head. “You’re not a cop. I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Who’s asking?”
“Even if you’re volunteering, it’s my responsibility to tell you no. I’m supposed to protect you, not elicit your help doing my job.”
“Fine, but I have no intention of leaving here tonight. So unless you plan on arresting me or leaving me here alone, I don’t see that you have much choice.”
“It’s too dangerous,” he said, but Alaina could tell his argument was waning.
“So what’s less dangerous—waiting for Detective Breaux to catch Colbert? And so what if he does? He has no proof to tie him to any of this and neither do we. He’d walk and you know it. And if it’s not him, then we’re really at a disadvantage because everyone’s concentrating on finding the wrong person.”
She threw her hands in the air. “For all we know, it could be your disgruntled cook harassing me here and something completely different going on in Baton Rouge. The only way to know for sure who’s after me is to catch him in the act. Do you want to do that now or wait until I leave Calais and then run the risk of my having to deal with the same thing somewhere else?”
He stiffened and Alaina cou
ld tell she’d struck a big nerve. Good. That was exactly what she’d intended. She didn’t like the situation any more than he did and she was aware of the danger, but she also knew she had more of an advantage here with Carter’s help than she did anywhere else. Looking over your shoulder every minute of every day was no way to live. This was supposed to be the start of a new life and as things currently stood, someone was preventing that from happening.
One way or another, it was going to stop.
Finally, he sighed. “I know you’re right, but I hate it. You will never know how badly I hate it.”
She walked over to him and placed her hand on his arm. “I know you hate it, but I trust you. I can’t be assured of that with anyone else going forward. And in some screwed-up way, it feels to me like it has to happen here. Like I have to tie up all loose strings to the past before I can move forward.”
He looked at her and she could see in his expression that he got it, even though he didn’t like it. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised before wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close to his chest.
“I know you won’t,” she said, but at that moment, her real fear was not from the unknown assailant—it was from her feelings for Carter.
Chapter Seventeen
They waited until dark. It would be easier for Carter to slip back into the house unnoticed in the inky black of night. A storm was brewing overhead, but it was supposed to hold off until after midnight. With any luck, this would all be over by then.
Alaina stood at the front door with Carter as he prepared to leave, trying to hold back the anxiety that was creeping in. Setting a trap had sounded like a great idea in the bright light of day, but now that it was in motion, a million worries she hadn’t thought of before tumbled through her mind.
“Get up to the bedroom as soon as you lock this door,” Carter said, his voice low. “Keep your pistol in your hand, ready to fire. Amos is waiting for me at the café. I’ll exchange trucks with him and he’ll spend the evening having pot roast at my mom’s. No one should be able to make out who’s driving in the dark. I’ll make my way back through the swamp from his cabin and scale the balcony to the bedroom. The rope is hidden in the vines and can’t be seen without digging for it. You stay put, and unless it’s me, be ready to shoot.”