The Fixer

by HelenKay Dimon

  She lowered her mouth until it hovered over his. “Show me.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Wren dragged his exhausted body into the office over the weekend. This wasn’t fatigue. No, it was the good kind of loss of sleep, but still. For the first time in his adult life he needed a nap.

  He pushed open the conference room door to find Rick Cryer and Garrett already sitting there. Files were piled around them. They both had coffee and there was a pot on the tray in the middle of the table.

  Garrett looked up and smiled. “You look tired. Like shit actually.”

  “Shut up or you’re fired.” Wren reached over Rick to get to the caffeine. He grabbed a mug and the pot and poured.

  “It’s only ten.” Garrett looked at his watch. “And it’s Sunday, which is proof I need a raise.”

  “I’m willing to fire you off schedule.” Wren downed the cup. Black, hot and strong. He wanted an intravenous tube pumping it directly into his veins.

  “Threaten to fire.”

  Wren ignored that as he took his seat at the head of the table. “How are you, Rick?”

  The detective had driven in and brought some boxes with him. That was the only explanation for the extra ones piled on the chair next to him. The boxes Wren didn’t remember with the handwriting he didn’t recognize on the side.

  “Working harder in retirement than I did on the job.”

  “I doubt that.” Wren knew better. The man was a bit of a legend. He closed difficult cases. He worked on awful homicides. That’s probably why he stuck with Tiffany’s case. It was like the one that got away.

  Rick stretched. “Getting old.”

  “Some of us look older by the second,” Garrett said with a laugh.

  Time to work. Wren looked at both of them. “Where are we?”

  “Where’s Emery?” Garrett asked.

  Wren’s mind flashed to an hour ago. She’d grumbled about getting out of bed. There was also some whining about not being able to find a sandal. It had been so long since he lived with a woman that he actually enjoyed the chaos of it all.

  She had whipped through his house like a tornado. Not exactly neat and tidy in the way she ran her personal life. There were clothes all over the bedroom. He was pretty sure he saw her car keys on the steps, which made no sense at all. There was a place for those, but when he told her that her only response was “Uh-huh.”

  Toiletries, bottles of stuff meant to prevent this and fix that, littered the countertop in the bathroom. He had no idea what any of it was. He’d poked around, but only waded in long enough to take the top off her shampoo and smell it. It was the scent he identified with her. And now it lingered in his sheets.

  He loved that part. He loved seeing her there, feeling her presence. Smelling her.

  “She’s at her friend Caroline’s house having brunch.” He’d been invited but passed. Meeting the boss, who was also a good friend, at the office was one thing. Taking on her entire family, including her psychologist partner, Ruth, and two kids was a bit more than he could handle. Fending off questions from that many people demanded more sleep. He’d almost preferred coming to work to that sort of baptism by fire. “There are two bodyguards there with her, which seemed to be an endless fascination for Caroline’s kids.”

  Garrett made a face, kind of like what he might make in a horror movie. “Sounds festive.”

  “It’s safe and that’s all I care about.” And Emery was happy, which apparently was a big issue for him these days. She smiled, he smiled. She’d been laughing and running after one of the kids when he drove away. But now they had much more sobering topics to discuss. “What did we find out?”

  “We studied the security tapes.” Garrett opened the laptop next to him and hit a few buttons. Black-and-white, somewhat blurry video started playing. The clip was clear enough to show Tyler. “Apparently he got into Emery’s building by coming through a maintenance door near the garbage shoot.”

  Tyler didn’t exactly walk through an open door. He looked around, seemed nervous. This was a deliberate act. He didn’t want to be seen.

  The security breach ticked Wren off. He knew about that door and the lock and alarm. He thought his guys could limit their access to hourly checks of that one instead of having a man standing there because the door wasn’t exactly general knowledge. Tenants didn’t use it. Couldn’t because they didn’t have access or keys and it was inside a supply closet.

  All that raised one very big question. “How exactly did he know it was there and figure out how to use it?”

  “Very good question.” Garrett closed the lid and cut off the video’s sound. “I have a meeting with building staff tomorrow morning.”

  Wren wanted to know now, but he could pretend to be patient. “And insight as to why he’s even in town?”

  “I’m waiting to hear back about his job in New York and why he isn’t at it.”

  “His alibi was always a little squishy,” Rick said.

  “Interesting word.” Wren preferred questionable, possibly unbelievable. The kid had been in love and dumped. Some guys didn’t take that well, especially if they’d been raised to think they could have anything.

  Some days Wren appreciated having nothing as a kid. Made him work harder now.

  “I always suspected him, but it’s Sunday. I was trying to use nice words and not to swear,” Rick said.

  Garrett waved the concern away. “Fuck that.”

  Now on to the harder question. The one sure to raise eyebrows. The avenue he was exploring more or less behind Emery’s back. Wren inhaled and dove in. “Where are we on Michael Finn, Emery’s father?”

  Rick sat up straighter in his chair. “What?”

  “I’m not a fan of the man. Thought I’d go on record on that point before we get much further.” Wren poured a second cup of coffee. At this rate he might drink the whole pot in less than an hour.

  “That doesn’t make him a suspect.” Garrett held up both hands. “Technically.”

  “It puts him on my list. So does his story about being at home when all of this happened.” The details were sketchy. Wren had been inside the house. He knew the bedrooms were in the back, away from the doors in and out. Sneaking away would not be that difficult.

  Rick searched through his file until he found whatever he was looking for and opened it. “Emery backs that story up.”

  Yeah, about that. Wren had checked the timeline and read over every detail. The alibi wasn’t as clear as everyone said. “No, she says they fought and she was in her room doing some assignment he gave her. He could have used that time and snuck out.”

  Rick shook his head. “Seems flimsy.”

  “What, you don’t think he stepped out, killed Tiffany and then went back in and watched television?” Garrett asked. “That spur of the moment opportunity is tough to imagine in light of him having a daughter at home, right there.”

  “I’ve heard of stranger things.” Rick hesitated, as if he were choosing his words. “He was never really on our radar. The piece with Emery made sense, and honestly, she was a mess. I know he’s an asshole, but he really did step up back then. Was adamant about protecting her.”

  They both had good points. Perfectly valid. But Wren had run through it all and something still nagged at him. His mind refused to accept and move on. He’d learned the hard way to listen to that irritating voice in his head. “But Tiffany’s disappearance didn’t seem to bother him, not outside of the impact it had on Emery.”

  Garrett looked at his notes. “He was on the search crew for Tiffany. And not just once.”

  “It would have been odd for him not to be since Tiffany was his niece and Emery was out there looking.” Wren had seen the photographs. Scanned every inch, looking for any lost hints. “Then there’s his over-the-top interest in the case now. Hell, the man stalked Senator Dayton.”

  Garrett’s eyebrow lifted. “So did Emery.”

  Rick scoffed. “She didn’t hurt Tiffany.”

  No one w
as saying that. Wren wanted to be clear about that before Rick lunged over the table at him. “Of course not.”

  “Now that that’s settled.” Garrett flipped a few pages on his lined notepad and started writing something down. “What’s his motive?”

  That part was not as clear for Wren. It was hard to imagine a grown man killing or hiding a young girl except for the most obvious reasons, and he had no idea how the man would have gotten away with that for all these years. There should be more victims . . . something.

  He offered the only piece he had. “Niece or not, Michael Finn didn’t talk about Tiffany with much affection.”

  “He also has a thing for younger women,” Garrett said. “Though that fact likely doesn’t support your point.”

  Rick frowned. “Twenty-somethings. That’s a lot different from underaged girls.”

  “I agree, but there’s something that doesn’t feel right. He’s triggering an alarm in my head.” Which was an understatement. Seeing the mix of frustration and sadness that moved through Emery when she dealt with him made Wren like the older man even less.

  “You’ve met him?” Rick asked.

  “Well, now.” Garrett refilled his cup then topped off Wren’s. “The bigger question: Does he know you’re sleeping with his daughter?”

  Rick coughed up his swallow of coffee. “Wait, that’s happening?”

  “When did my private life become part of the case?” Wren didn’t agree to that at all.

  “Dunno, but you’ve got to admit it’s pretty damn interesting.”

  Rick pushed his files aside and leaned on the table. Shot Wren a let’s-be-serious expression. “Look—”

  “Save the lecture.” Wren was absolutely not in the mood for another talk from anyone about his relationship with Emery. It was new and a bit fragile. Having third parties step in, well-meaning or not, guaranteed an early death. Sure, with his reclusive tendencies it had to end sometime. He just wasn’t ready for that to happen yet. “I’m not fooling around.”

  “Then I’m confused.” Garrett didn’t even try to hide his grin. “What exactly are you doing with her?”

  Wren decided to answer it as if it were a real question. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “That sounds promising . . .” Rick frowned. “I think.”

  “If you ask me, it sounds out of character.”

  Wren didn’t remember asking Garrett to weigh in on his private life either. “Back to the case. We’re dealing with someone local or someone who is still here who knows something. The person heard Emery talking about restarting an investigation or is close enough to her to know it’s happening.”

  He hated that she had a target on her. Someone sat out there for a long time, just waiting. Now they’d awoken and she would not be safe until Wren tracked the person down.

  “The break-ins are connected and we all know it.” Rick nodded. “Now you’re thinking we need to rule out Tiffany’s dad, Emery’s dad or Tyler. Vet them.”

  That sounded about right to Wren. He’d prioritize the people differently, but the order didn’t really matter.

  Garrett whistled. “That’s a grim list.”

  Wren didn’t like the tone. Garrett sounded serious and concerned. “What do you mean?”

  “You tell Emery that any of those three men took Tiffany, men she’s close to, and you won’t have to worry about what you have with her because it will be over.” Garrett’s words hung there in the silence.

  Wren turned them over and thought about them, but he didn’t have a choice. Not this time. “I promised her.”

  “I’m just being realistic.” Garrett shrugged. “Like you are when your head’s not up your ass.”

  Wren got the point, but he had one of his own. “I won’t lie to her.”

  Garrett didn’t break eye contact. “I think you should be more worried about losing her.”

  Wren was. Every damn day.

  Emery watched Wren stab the meat on his plate. Mrs. Hayes had come in and out while they were at work, slogging through a long Monday. Emery never saw her, but the woman did fold and pile up Emery’s clothes. Also collected all of her things and put them in a basket in the bedroom. Also left behind a fancy dinner for them to heat up. That made Mrs. Hayes one of Emery’s favorite people on the planet. Potatoes and carrots. The entire house smelled like Christmas morning.

  But Wren kept stabbing. He moved this piece here and that one over there. She actually felt sorry for the food.

  She lowered her fork to the table. “Did the roast offend you?”

  His head shot up. “What?”

  “You’re picking at your dinner.” She glanced at the plate and the potato he had mashed into something that looked like oatmeal.

  He shoved it to the side and put his elbows on the edge of the table. “I had a late lunch.”

  A lie. She’d never really caught him in one before and this one seemed stupid. “No, you didn’t. I called, remember? You ate a salad at your desk.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Did I tell you that?”

  “Garrett did.” The only person who picked up Wren’s phone and sounded happy. Wren tended to bark his name over the line in greeting. Not the most pleasant hello.

  “Why is he touching my phone?” Wren folded his cloth napkin and put it on the table.

  “Even you need to go to the bathroom sometimes.” At least that’s the excuse Garrett gave her for answering what was supposed to be a private no-one-knows-about-this line. “He also gave me his direct work number and cell number, just in case I needed to find you and couldn’t.”

  Wren hadn’t stopped frowning. “I’m not sure I like that.”

  “It’s hard being around other humans, isn’t it?”

  He pushed his chair back but didn’t get up. “Look, we need to talk about something.”

  Her heart fell. She swore it tore away and took off in free-fall toward her feet. A wave of sadness hit right behind. She had to swallow twice and force lightness into her voice before she could talk. “Is it time?”

  “For what?”

  He was going to make her say it, the dumbass. She knew some men preferred that. Forced the woman to do the nasty tasks and then they looked like the mean ones. “You want your house back.”

  “Okay, let’s get this subject out of the way.” He reached a hand across the table. Didn’t quite touch her but came close. “I want you here. In fact, the idea of you leaving makes me want to have your building condemned so you have to stay with me.”

  The stiffness across the top of her back vanished. So did the need to throw up. “That’s not weird or anything.”

  “The fact that I want you here?”

  “The idea that you’d make me homeless to do it.” Before he could move away, she put her hand over his. Caressed his fingers with hers. “And please don’t. You don’t need to do anything drastic because I don’t want to leave.”

  “Then why are we having this conversation?”

  “Because you’re acting weirder than usual.” A low chime sounded a “dong” that sounded more like a gong than anything else. “Is that your doorbell? It’s kind of extreme.”

  He dropped her hand and stood up. “Who the hell can that be?”

  She thought about the layers of security. The key, the alarm and the number pad. You had to nail all three or you probably got shocked or shot or something equally awful. She made up the last part, but she wouldn’t be surprised.

  Following him, she saw him stop to look at the video screen that showed the small landing outside. Saw a very familiar face.

  Wren unlocked the massive front door and stared at Garrett. “Why didn’t you call first?’

  “I did.” Garrett took out his cell and shook it in front of Wren. Then he looked at her. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Come in.” She figured she should say it because Wren didn’t seem to be doing much of anything other than standing there.

  They walked in silence back to the kitchen. Wren and Emery retook their se
ats. Garrett picked the one in front of the platter with the roast.

  Wren didn’t offer him a plate or even a fork. “What’s going on?”

  “If it’s about Tiffany’s case, you can say it in front of me.” Emery decided to make that clear before anyone tried the embarrassing clear-the-room thing and she had to yell.

  Wren nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “Tyler is on a leave of absence.” Garrett took out the folder he had tucked under his arm and put it on the table next to Wren’s plate. “He didn’t just happen to show up in town. He’s been struggling, not going into work. He said he had a family issue and had to come back here for a few weeks.”

  Wren didn’t reach for the file and it killed her not to. She almost dove for it. She settled for asking a question instead. “What’s wrong in his family?”

  “Nothing. His parents are overseas.”

  Emery looked from Garrett to Wren. “You two think this is about Tiffany.”

  “Hard to believe it’s not,” Wren said in a monotone voice.

  Her brain crashed to a halt. All the arguments piled up in there as the anger started to bubble in her stomach. “There’s no way.”

  She knew Tyler. He’d been there. They’d all been friends.

  “Did you talk to him about restarting the investigation?” Garrett asked her.

  That was the point. There was no restart. Not really. “It never really ended.”

  “Emery, you know what he means.”

  She hated when Wren used that tone. It happened less frequently lately, but it still snuck in. Each time she felt more like his employee than the woman he was dating.

  “We talked on the phone a few weeks ago and I told him I found a note in Gavin’s file.”

  Garret tapped the closed file. “A few weeks ago is when he started having trouble at work.”

  When Wren started to talk, she talked over him. “To be clear, I didn’t tell him your name, or mention the specifics of the note, but I said I had a new lead. A promising one.” She knew she sounded defensive and tried to rein it in. “He had a right to know. He was her friend, too.”