Katie blinked. “All right.” She pulled a small notepad from her back pocket and handed it to him along with a pen. “Make a list.”
“Now?”
“While you’re thinking about it. Start with Armstrong’s family.”
His jaw tightened and he consciously relaxed the muscles. “Yeah. Maybe.” He looked at the blank page, then back at his ruined building. Shaking his head, he wrote Armstrong family. Then paused and sighed. He scribbled through the name and handed her the notebook. “Look, I have people I’ve clashed with. Business issues, things that didn’t go well or as hoped, people I’ve fired, of course, but—” he shook his head and she repocketed the items—“no one who would do this. I just don’t have any names right this minute. Not even the Armstrongs. Maurice’s daughter came to me and thanked me for not sending her dad to jail. Her grandmother, who has terminal cancer, came with her the day after I fired him. They both were grateful I’d let him off. It’s not them.”
“What about a male relative?” she asked. “Someone Armstrong was close to who might want to strike back at you for firing him?”
“I just don’t know.” He glanced back at the burning store. “But, I’ll admit, I just don’t see how this could be a coincidence. Someone kills Armstrong and hangs him in my basement while one of his family members wants revenge so he burns this restaurant down? That’s not even plausible.”
“No, it’s not, although stranger things have happened. But someone’s angry and I have a strong feeling once all the evidence is in, we’re going to see these two events are related somehow.”
“I have no doubt you’re right.” So obviously he’d made someone angry enough to lash out in a major way.
But who?
[3]
2:55 AM
Nolan Swift, another detective Katie had worked with on occasion, motioned Quinn over. Quinn held up his index finger, indicating he’d be there in a moment. “One more question,” he said to Daniel.
“What’s that?”
Katie could see the tension in Daniel’s stance. He’d had just about enough of Quinn’s questions.
“If you didn’t have anything to do with Armstrong and had no ill will against him, do you know anyone who does?”
Daniel shook his head. His sandy blond hair was cropped close in a military style and his green eyes were narrow. “No. Other than the bit I’ve shared with you, I don’t know much of anything else about him. If you want to know any more personal stuff, that would be a question for the employees he worked with.”
Quinn nodded and snapped his little notebook shut. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions before we’re done.”
“I’m sure I will too,” Daniel muttered.
“Give me a little bit longer, then we’ll head over to the other store and you can show me the gun.” Quinn left them and Katie turned to Daniel.
“So,” she said, “let’s talk about why you didn’t call the cops on Armstrong.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shot a malevolent glare at Quinn’s back. “What’s his problem? At first, he was pretty decent. Then he did an about-face and became the clichéd surly cop. Why?” He shook his head.
She sighed. “It’s the way he is. He has a lot of respect for those who serve in the military. You were in the Marines. You were even with the Criminal Investigation Division as an agent for a while. You know as well as I do the reasons for his turnaround. Finding out about your clash with Armstrong doesn’t help.”
“Not to mention the faulty report from one of my employees casting aspersions on my character, making Holcombe think I was lying by omission.” He drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, I get it.” His eyes narrowed. “You’ve done your homework on me.”
“No, not in the sense that I went snooping.”
The light went on. “Riley’s been talking about me.”
“Yes. I don’t ask a lot of questions, though. Some of the information has just come out in our chats.”
He tilted his head. “I don’t have a lot of secrets. Ask all the questions you want.”
“But you’ll only answer the ones you want.”
He didn’t bother to answer, just lifted one corner of his mouth and stared at her.
She paused. “Why aren’t you working as a detective now that you’re out of the Marines? According to Riley, you have an exemplary military record, closed most of the cases you were handed in a timely manner. Any police department would be eager to hire you.”
“Yes, that’s true.” There was no pride in the statement, just a fact. “I have my reasons.”
“Riley?”
“She’s one of them.”
Okay, for a guy who didn’t have a lot of secrets, he sure was giving her short answers. She could respect that. She had no real business or reason to dig into his past other than to satisfy her own curiosity—and figure out if he was a killer. But that was Quinn’s job, not hers. “Regardless of Quinn’s suspicions,” she said, “I believe what you said.”
He quirked a brow at her. “Why? Because you like my niece?”
“Nope, she has nothing to do with it—well, maybe a little.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her khakis and looked him in the eye. “But I believe you because it’s not logical that you would catch the man stealing from you, not call the police about it, but threaten to make sure he lost everything. You had proof of his guilt, right?”
“Yes. Still do.”
“So if you wanted him to lose everything, you would have just turned him in to the cops as the first step in the process, right?”
He blinked. “Oh. Well. When you put it that way.”
“Unless, of course, the more you thought about it, the angrier you got and finally decided to take matters into your own hands and get revenge on him for betraying your trust.” His nostrils flared and she held up a hand. “But I don’t believe you did.” She gave him a small smile. “Riley’s the best character witness you could have. She adores you.”
His expression softened. “The feeling’s mutual.”
Not that Riley’s adoration meant the man was innocent, but she had a pretty good gut instinct about people, and her instinct wasn’t coming up with any red flags. In her eyes, he was innocent until the evidence proved otherwise. She drew in a deep breath. “Come on, I’ll take you back to the restaurant to pick up your car.”
He turned back to the still-burning building. “Is Olivia with Riley yet?”
She checked her phone. “Yes, she’s been there for a few minutes.”
“Then I’ll stay here a little longer.” He fixed his gaze on the flames. “I really need to know there wasn’t anyone in there. And I need to look for something Riley wants me to bring home to her.”
“You’ll have to wait on that last one. Everything needs to cool off first. Then the fire investigator will come out. Then you can look for personal items.”
“I know the routine.” He glanced at her. “Are you still planning to take a look like your detective friend asked?”
She stared at the now smoking building. Felt the tremor deep in her belly, the fear threaten to choke her at the thought of donning her gear and heading in. She shook her head. “Not for hours if I do. And only after the investigator has done his job. After that . . .” She shrugged. “We’ll see.” It looked like they had the fire under control at this point, but she wasn’t going any closer. “I’m sure when Quinn asked me to come along, he didn’t picture the enormity of the fire or how long it would take to put it out.” She didn’t know what Quinn was thinking when he’d asked her to come along. Or maybe she did. She pulled in a deep breath. “If he wants me to come back, I will.” Another maybe.
“How much longer do you think he’s going to be? Once I know everyone’s okay, I’m ready to get this night over with. Watching years of work go up in smoke isn’t doing much for my attitude.” He grimaced. “Not to mention that hundred-year-old building and all of the precious antiques that were in there.” He shook his head. “Breaks my he
art.”
“Let’s hope that’s all that gets broken,” Katie murmured.
He shot her a black look and turned his back on the depressing scene.
“Hey, Matthews!”
Daniel turned to find the detective coming toward them. “Yeah?”
“Just thought you’d like to know that all employees are accounted for.”
Relief swept him. He nodded. “Thanks.”
“We can leave now. I’ll meet you back where all of this started—or you can ride with me.”
“No thanks. Katie can take me.” He looked at her and she nodded. They headed for her vehicle, Daniel’s heart heavy, his mind trying to process everything.
Once back at the site of the murder, Daniel led them to his office while his nerves twitched. He had visions of the gun being missing. Of him opening the drawer and staring into the empty spot. The way his night was going, it wouldn’t even surprise him at this point.
Katie and Holcombe stepped into the office after him. He pulled his keys from his pocket and opened the desk drawer. And there was his gun. His freshly cleaned weapon he hadn’t fired since his last visit to the range.
The detective leaned in. Held out a hand. “You mind?”
“Help yourself.”
Holcombe did. He emptied the weapon, checked it, then snapped pictures of it.
“Maurice wasn’t shot,” Daniel said.
“I know.” Holcombe handed the weapon back to him. “And this hasn’t been fired lately. It’s clean as a whistle.”
“I clean it often.”
“Like tonight?”
Daniel bit his tongue, chose his words, and held onto his temper. “No. Like last night.” He pulled on his shoulder holster and slid the weapon into it. He then snagged his wallet from his back pocket, pulled out his concealed weapons permit, and handed it to Holcombe.
The detective looked it over and gave it back to him. “Don’t leave town.”
“Ugh, Quinn, really?” Katie said.
The detective let his hard gaze swing between him and Katie. “Really.”
Daniel swung his SUV into his driveway and pressed the button for the hangar door. It slid open and he rolled into his spot—right next to his Cirrus SR22. The hangar served as storage for his vehicles and his plane. Seeing the small plane parked in its spot in the hangar never failed to give him a thrill. But tonight, he couldn’t take any pleasure in it. He felt . . . flat. Numb to the events. He’d felt that way before and knew it would pass. It was just how he dealt with severe emotional hits. Watching years of hard work go up in smoke was a tough one. When Katie had insisted on sweeping his SUV for explosives, his anger had nearly gotten the better of him. Not at her—at the events of the entire night.
He climbed from the vehicle and saw Katie stop at the edge of his drive. The wind blasted him as he exited the garage, and he shivered, pulling the edges of his coat tighter against his throat. He walked toward Katie and she rolled down her window.
“You didn’t have to follow me,” he said.
“I know.” She held up her phone. “But as soon as Riley learned I was with you, she texted me and asked me to make sure you got home safely.”
He shook his head. “That girl.”
She frowned. “Be careful. Watch your back. Something’s not right about tonight in more ways than one.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“My opinion is that someone’s started playing a pretty twisted game, and until you figure out if it’s the restaurants he’s targeting or you personally, you need to be on constant guard.” Her eyes dropped to where he would wear a shoulder holster should he have it on. “Carry your weapon.”
“Twenty-four seven.” He took in her concern, the way she tilted her head, the dark hair pulled back into that severe ponytail. And felt his attraction meter kick in. Strange he hadn’t ever noticed her before. He shook his head, pushed the feeling away, and chalked it up to the craziness of the night.
“You have it?”
He blinked. Have it? Oh right, his gun. He patted the shoulder holster. “Yes, I’ve got it. I kept it after Holcombe looked at it.”
She nodded. “Good.” She gave a low laugh and shook her head.
“What?” he asked.
“Me. Telling you what you need to do. Sorry, it’s a job hazard.”
He smiled and glanced around. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
And surprisingly enough, he found the fact that she wanted to look out for him . . . interesting. He’d never experienced that before. He had a feeling Katie wasn’t like most of the women he’d been around. A few he’d worked with in the Marines were tough enough, but there was just something about Katie . . .
A noise at his front door distracted him and he turned to look. A woman stepped onto the front porch. Riley tried to slip around her, but the woman shifted her body to block Riley’s, then whispered something in her ear. Riley hesitated, stuck her head around the woman’s frame, and shot him a glance.
“I’m fine, hon,” Daniel called. “Go back inside. We’ll talk in a few minutes.”
Riley lifted her chin, then let her gaze bounce between the three adults. She narrowed her eyes and shot him a look that Daniel knew meant she wouldn’t be put off for long. Riley flounced back into the house and the woman stayed on the porch, pulling the door closed.
Daniel assumed this was the Olivia that Katie had told him about. Her straight blonde hair blew around her face. She stood tall, around five feet nine inches, and wore loose-fitting jeans, a black turtleneck, and a man’s gray sweater. Strong and slender, she glanced to her left, then the right. She loped down the steps and crossed the lawn to join them. “Everything’s been quiet here.”
“Thanks for coming over. I’m Daniel.” He held out a hand and she shook it.
“Olivia. Happy to do it.” She looked at Katie. “Anything else you need?”
“No, I think we’re good.”
“Then I’m headed home.” She patted Daniel on the shoulder. “I’m sorry about all the trouble tonight. If you need anything, you know where to find us, right?”
“Of course. Thank you.” He knew it had been a stressful night, but he had to admit it touched him that these two ladies who didn’t know him had gone out of their way to help him and Riley tonight.
Olivia climbed into her SUV that she’d parked across the street from his house. “I told Riley to rearm the alarm when she went back in. Be sure to turn it off.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Olivia climbed in her car and drove away. Daniel turned to Katie. “I owe you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah. You did. Thanks.”
She frowned a little, then smiled. “Sure.” She nodded to the plane, visible in the open door. “Nice.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“I noticed the runway in your backyard—and the yards of a lot of people in this neighborhood that connect to the main one. Do you fly a lot?”
“Every chance I get. Wanna take a ride in her one day?”
Her eyes sparked. “Don’t offer unless you’re serious. I love to fly.”
“I’m serious. Maybe I’ll let Riley pilot us.”
“She has her license?”
“Yep. She got it the day she turned seventeen.” He shook his head. “She’s a natural pilot.”
“Wow, I’m impressed. She’s never said a word.” Another smile lifted her lips. “And I’d love to go up with you and Riley one day. But for now, I’ll say good night. I’ll see you later, Daniel.”
“Good night.”
She waited, and he knew she wouldn’t pull away until he was safely inside. He jogged up the steps and into the house. He shut the door behind him and looked out the window.
She caught him watching and pulled away with a wave. He watched her taillights disappear around the corner after a brief pause at the stop sign. She’d circle the neighborhood before heading for the exit. He didn’t know why he knew that, but just knew she would. Pr
obably because it’s exactly what he would have done in her place.
He waited for her to roll past his home one more time, then he opened the door and stepped outside. Standing on the porch, he probed the area. Everything looked exactly as it should. His eyes scanned the neighboring properties. The houses were close enough to know who lived nearby, but not so close one felt claustrophobic. Strategically placed trees denoted the property lines and well-manicured lawns sprawled along the street. It was an aviation community where pilots and their families could live and fly on a daily basis if they chose to do so. It was a good place to live. A safe place. He hoped.
He breathed in and smelled the crisp air. It smelled like a snow that wouldn’t happen this early in the year—and something else. Something he couldn’t put his finger on but reminded him of the day he’d been riding in a Humvee in Iraq and decided to take a different route. He’d radioed to the vehicle behind him, but they hadn’t wanted to deviate from their course. Less than thirty seconds after Daniel had turned onto a side road, the explosion shattered the air. The Humvee behind him had gone straight instead of following Daniel and they’d all died. Gut instinct. Divine intervention. He’d learned not to ignore it. And now the training he’d never put behind him kicked in. He released the strap on his shoulder holster and pulled the weapon from its home. With light steps and ears tuned to the night sounds, he moved to the garage, punched in the code, and listened to the door come down. Also from the outside, he armed the hangar, then he slipped around the corner of the house and into the shadows, avoiding triggering the motion lights.
He stayed still, listening. He heard nothing—and didn’t really expect to, but the incidents of the night had made him a little paranoid. Understandably perhaps, but he didn’t like the feeling and definitely wouldn’t ignore it. He continued to scour the area, double checking, knowing he’d rest better if he was thorough in his assessment. Leaves rustled behind him and he tensed. Turned. Held his weapon out and ready. He moved toward the bushes, not really expecting anything or anyone to be there, but wouldn’t be surprised if there was.
Without Warning Page 3