Hadley looked at her.
“Was one of those displayed weapons a Valderdorf knife, the kind that he sells?”
Her mouth fell open. No words would come.
“No need to answer.” The detective smiled. “Thank you for everything.”
Hadley tried to walk away but couldn’t move.
What had she just done?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brad hesitated before opening the front door. All he wanted was to sneak upstairs and get some sleep. He and Faye had talked for hours about their relationship and how little he cared about Rose late into the night. They’d rehashed old issues, and she’d raised a few new ones.
He was drained. Slogging through work after only a few hours of sleep, stuck behind the counter selling knives most of the day. It kept Rose out of his hair, but he hadn’t talked to Kurt.
That was probably his boss’s plan. He’d only been around for a few hours and had managed to avoid Brad the entire time.
It was time to face the truth that Kurt wasn’t going to help him.
Brad didn’t know why his boss had shifted, but he had. He was on his own now — not only to keep the company out of the investigation but to watch out for himself. If he wanted an attorney, he needed to secure one of his own.
The thought of it all made every inch of his body ache. The pain was too much. Brad was used to being in control. Never had he run into so much trouble when he’d killed someone. Rarely did the cops turn to him, and when they had, Kurt always had his back.
What changed?
Brad would have to look into that later. For now, he needed to sleep. Nothing could get between him and his bed. Or his office couch — that would be better. He could lock himself away from anyone needing him. They could wait until morning.
Brad closed his eyes and prepared himself to face his family. They would object to him hiding away for the night, but he would assure them everything was fine. Faye should understand. She had been up with him.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside, taking in the familiar sounds of conversation and TV. But there was one voice that didn’t belong.
Allison.
Brad swore under his breath. Had Faye actually invited that woman inside? Even knowing how he felt about her? After their talk last night, were they really not on the same page yet?
He clenched his fists and counted to twenty. Perhaps there was a reasonable explanation. Maybe there was news about who had killed Duke. That had to be it.
He marched into the kitchen and gave his wife a kiss. Blatantly ignored their troublemaker of a neighbor, standing tall as he turned his back to her. “I’m going upstairs unless you need me.”
“Lovely to see you, Brad,” said Allison in a sing-song.
He furrowed his brows, still eyeing his wife. “Can I speak with you privately?”
Faye yawned. “I’ve got to check the chicken.”
“I can watch it for you,” Allison offered.
“Really, I’ve got it.” Faye moved around Brad and pulled open the oven.
He turned toward her and accidentally made eye contact with Allison.
She smirked.
“What’s your problem?” he demanded.
Faye glared at him. “Brad!”
He kept his focus on Allison. “I’m serious.”
“What do you mean?”
“Stop feigning innocence.”
Allison crossed her arms. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“No? Why are you suddenly so friendly? You never came around before Duke was killed. This is the house to be at to get all the juicy gossip, right? And it’s the perfect place to stir up some trouble. Do you enjoy trying to ruin marriages?”
Allison started to say something, but he cut her off. “I have news for you, lady. My marriage is strong. Faye and I have been together since we were teenagers, and we’ve faced things together that you can’t even imagine. Trying to paint me as a cheater won’t work. I’m faithful to my wife.”
“Have you ever killed anyone?” She stepped closer, hands on her hips.
“I didn’t kill Duke. Had no reason to.”
“None?”
“Exactly. If you think I’m so shallow to kill someone over Christmas lights, you’re insane.”
“Brad!” Faye stepped between them. “This needs to stop. Luna’s in the next room, and Zeke can probably hear it too.”
He drew in a deep breath. “Luna’s absorbed in her cartoons as always, and Zeke is always wearing his headphones.”
“He’s doing homework.”
“And he listens to music when doing that. Neither of them are listening to us.”
She glowered at him.
Brad turned back to their guest. “You should leave now. And stay out of our lives.”
“What about—” Allison stopped, staring at something behind him.
Brad whipped around.
Zeke trudged into the kitchen with a mopey expression.
“Everything okay?” Brad asked.
His son shrugged.
Faye rushed over. “Are you okay, sweetie? You look ill.”
Brad put his hand on Zeke’s forehead. No fever. “He’s fine.”
“I just want a snack.”
“Do you need anything?” Allison asked. “I can run to the store for medicine.”
“Weren’t you just leaving?” Brad snapped.
Zeke ignored them both and opened the dishwasher.
Brad turned to Allison. “Be sure to tell Wes hi for me.”
Her mouth formed a straight line.
Zeke turned to Brad. “Hey, Dad. Isn’t this that Valderdorf knife you were talking about?”
Brad’s stomach sank.
Faye’s face paled.
Allison’s eyes lit up. “Is it the one the police asked about?”
“I told you to leave.” Brad pointed toward the door.
She didn’t budge. “Why’s it in the dishwasher? To wash away evidence?”
His blood boiled. “We have several of those lying around. One we use for cooking.” He spun around. “I don’t know why I’m defending myself to you. You’re leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are. And don’t come back. You’re not welcome here.”
“Do the police know about this knife?” Allison asked. “I bet that detective would love to hear about it.”
“Get out!”
Everyone jumped at Brad’s outburst.
“I’m serious. If I see you here again, I’m calling the cops.”
“That’s rich. But it’s actually a good idea. The detective gave me her card. I think I’ll go over there and give her a call.”
Finally, Allison left.
But not without causing even more trouble than before.
Zeke’s face fell. “Sorry, Dad.”
Brad put his hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I was just trying to help.”
“Exactly.”
“But now you’re going to be in trouble, and it’s my fault.”
He shook his head. “We have nothing to worry about because I didn’t kill Duke. Just because we have the same type of knife that was used in the crime doesn’t mean I’m going to be arrested for something I didn’t do. None of these knives have any of DNA on them.”
“But now the cops are going to come back.”
“Let them. I have nothing to hide.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brad tossed his empty beer bottle into the recycle bin and glared at Faye. “How could you have let that woman into our house? Especially knowing how I feel about her?”
“She means well.” She checked the temperature of the chicken.
“Yeah, if by meaning well, you’re saying she’s trying to destroy us.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? What about last night, making up a story about me and Rose?”
Zeke watched the argument, his head bouncing back
and forth between them.
“Go finish your homework.”
“Already did.” The kid reached for a bag of chips.
“Don’t ruin your dinner.”
He glared at Brad.
“I’m serious. Your mom is putting a lot of work into it.”
“I can eat both.”
“Drop the chips and go to your room.”
Zeke let the chips go, and the bag fell on the floor. He stormed out of the kitchen.
“Pick those up!”
Faye glanced at him. “You did tell him to drop them.”
He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t have time for this. You do realize that detective is coming here? And your friend is probably speaking to her right now, giddy at the thought of seeing me arrested.”
“Like you said, we have nothing to worry about since we didn’t do anything.”
“Except the lie you told about our date.”
“Your coworkers said they saw us.”
“What if another helpful neighbor comes forward, swearing that they saw you at home? Or Duke coming over here? Or—”
“Okay. I get your point. But if there’s no blood on the knife, they can’t do anything.”
“The knife that went through the dishwasher? Nothing suspicious about that.”
“But it would still have DNA on it, wouldn’t it? If it was a murder weapon?”
“They could say I soaked it in bleach. I’m sure they could come up with a dozen likely scenarios. No idea how I’d prove otherwise.”
“I’m sure Kurt’s lawyer will give you ideas.”
“He’s putting me off. I don’t have access to his attorney.”
“Why not?”
“You’d have to ask Kurt.”
She held his gaze. “What are we going to do, then?”
“Good question.”
“Is our alibi really a problem?”
“It sure as hell could become one.”
She squeezed a dish towel before looking him in the eyes. “Where were you that night?”
“What?”
“You came home with that blood behind your ear. Where were you?”
“How many times do we have to go over this? I was at a convention. Some idiot cut himself with one of our knives.”
“But how did it get behind your ear? That doesn’t make sense to me.”
He rubbed his temples. “People’s idiocy doesn’t make any sense to me, either, Faye. Let’s focus on what’s important.”
“You’re hiding something.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Is that what you really think?”
“I’m sure of it.”
Guilt stabbed his chest. He’d always managed to keep this work a secret from his wife without lying about anything else.
“You can’t even deny it.” Anger flared in her eyes.
“I’m doing the best I can with a crappy situation! Do you have any idea the stress I’m under? Between the investigation and Kurt turning his back on me, plus the issue with Hadley — it’s a wonder I’m holding it together at all. I’m not dealing with your accusations on top of everything else.”
He stormed out of the kitchen and nearly tripped over Zeke in the hall. “Were you listening in?”
Zeke scrambled to his feet. “You should be nicer to Mom.”
Faye came out of the kitchen. “You really should be.”
“Neither one of you have any idea the pressure I’m under.”
Zeke glared at him. “And you think that gives you the right to treat everyone else however you want? That’s classic.”
“Classic?” Brad exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”
His son breathed heavily. “You’re always telling me to turn the other cheek, but then you just boss the rest of us around — especially when you’re mad. What happens if I stand up to you?”
“Stand up to me? For what?” Brad looked back and forth between his wife and son. They were coming at him from every side. “Where is this coming from?”
“You never listen to me!” Zeke’s face reddened. “Or follow your own advice. Because it doesn’t work. Right?”
Brad took a moment to collect himself. “I want you to have a better life.”
“By getting picked on at school? Because that’s exactly what looking the other way does. It gets me picked on even more! You know what does work?”
“I’m going to guess standing up for yourself.”
“Yes! And you know who taught me how to do that?”
“No idea.”
Zeke’s eyes narrowed. “Duke.”
Brad stumbled back. “You too?”
“He was never too busy. Now he’s gone.” Zeke’s mouth wobbled. “My mentor’s gone.”
“Your mentor?” Brad looked at Faye for help. “Did you know about this?”
She shook her head.
Brad leaned against the wall and rubbed his temples. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped.”
“Duke noticed I was upset. He told me about when he was growing up and had to deal with a bully at school. I bet nobody’s ever picked on you!”
Brad would’ve laughed at the absurdity of the accusation if he didn’t feel like he’d completely failed his son. “I’ve been picked on plenty. You could’ve talked to me.”
Zeke shook his head and fled upstairs.
“Did you know about this?”
Faye shook her head. “I—”
Brad trudged up the stairs, unable to deal with anything else. How had he managed to miss what his son was going through? And even worse, Zeke thought he couldn’t relate.
Hadley stepped out of her room and glared at him.
His heart sunk. “What did I do?”
“You’ve been lying to us.”
Now it was definitely coming from all sides. “About what?”
“You’re going to pretend not to know what I’m talking about?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Forget it!” She returned to her bedroom and slammed the door.
He stared at the closed door and shook his head.
Everything was unraveling, and Brad didn’t know what to do about any of it.
Chapter Thirty
Brad hit the snooze on his phone again. But it still wouldn’t turn off.
Faye rolled over. “That’s the doorbell.”
“This early?” Brad groaned. “What kind of lunatic bothers people at this hour?”
“I don’t know. Can you check?”
“Of course. That’s what I do.” He pulled on a pair of jeans and hurried down the stairs.
Ding-dong!
“I’m coming!”
He opened the door to see Detective Stewart and her sidekick standing on his porch.
“Do you realize what time it is?”
She didn’t apologize. “We wanted to catch you before you left for work.”
“Congratulations, you did it. What do you want?”
“We’re here to collect your Valderdorf knives.”
He stared at them, trying to make sense of what she said. “You want my knives?”
“The Valderdorfs,” she clarified.
“I heard. Do you have a warrant?”
Then it hit him. Allison had called them.
Of course, she had.
Detective Stewart stepped forward. “It would be better for everyone if you hand them over without the warrant. We get a warrant, and we’ll be going through your whole house. All we’re asking for right now is your cooperation.”
“And the knives,” said the sidekick.
Fear raced through him at the thought of the police rifling through his office. Kurt’s warning to keep the investigation away from BlueBlade danced through his mind. He drew a deep breath. “As you already seem to know, I have multiple Valderdorfs. I’ll need a few minutes to gather them.”
He stepped inside and started to close the door.
Stewart stepped forward. “We can wait insi
de.”
“Or you can wait out here.”
“For all your neighbors to see?”
Brad gritted his teeth. “Come inside.”
He didn’t offer them a seat before heading to the kitchen. The Valderdorf was still in the dishwasher. Good thing they didn’t see that — not that it likely mattered, since Allison had probably told them all about it being there the night before. He thought about bagging it up, but why make Stewart’s job easier? They would already expect his prints to be on the thing. And it wasn’t like any of his knives had been used in the murder.
“Here you go.” He forced a grin as he handed it to the detective. “The others are upstairs.”
The officer stared at the curved blade. “This is a kitchen knife?”
“When you’ve worked at BlueBlade as long as I have, yes.” Brad strolled up the stairs, trying to give the impression that he wasn’t worked up over this.
He went into his office and took the dusty Valderdorf off the wall, leaving it on its display board. He looked around the room, trying to recall if he had any others in here.
One of his sword bags on the floor caught his attention — sticking out at an angle instead of pushed against the wall.
He always left them against the wall.
Someone had been in here.
Blood drained from his body. That meant someone had figured out his lock code.
Had that someone used one of his Valderdorfs to commit the murder?
It couldn’t be the one in his hand. Not with all the dust. For once, he was grateful for his laziness. He always meant to clean the office later, which rarely came.
What if that knife in the dishwasher was the murder weapon?
Had someone in his family killed Duke with it and then put it in there in hopes of removing evidence?
Hopefully, they’d soaked it in bleach first.
He hated thinking that, but he’d rather his wife or kids had thought that far ahead rather than risk going to prison.
Not that there was time to think about that now. He needed to get his knives to the cops so they could leave. But first, he had to check the bag.
Everything looked in place. The bag was full of swords, so none were missing.
Could he have bumped the bag and not noticed? He had been under a lot of stress. And that was a much better thought than any of his family members breaking in here and killing the guy next door.
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