So why did I feel like I was betraying Cale?
He opened his car door and started to get out.
“Luke . . .”
He stopped and turned back to face me.
Better to start with the money. That was easier to explain. “The first day we started filming, we were in Dr. Livingston’s parking lot, and I saw something strange.”
He shut his door. “What?”
I grimaced. “I was checking out a license plate for a case we were working on—”
His back stiffened. “What do you mean checking out a license plate?”
“Do you want to know or not?” His reaction to something fairly innocuous didn’t bode well for how this conversation would go. I reconsidered my decision, but I knew he needed to know.
He remained silent.
“We were investigating a guy who had hurt his back and couldn’t go back to work at Acme Concrete. He was seeing his doctor.”
“Tommy Kilpatrick.”
“Yeah.”
“He wrenched his back when a piece of equipment malfunctioned. We charged Acme with negligence, and now they’re giving Tommy a hard time. What exactly were you doin’?”
I didn’t want to admit to any of it. “Let’s just say I saw a suspicious license plate, and I took a photo of it.”
His brow lowered, suggesting he knew exactly whose license plate I’d photographed. “Go on.”
“While I was taking the photos, I saw a motorcycle pull into the parking lot of the strip mall next door. This tattooed guy in a dark T-shirt got off, went inside the dry cleaner’s, and then came back out about twenty seconds later. He was carrying a small, wadded-up brown-paper bag, and he put it into one of those leather side pouches. But it fell out before he took off. I went over and checked it out.”
“What was it?”
I looked into his eyes. “A bag of money. Cash.”
“And you didn’t think to turn it in to the police?”
“As I stood there trying to figure out what to do with it, Cale pulled up. He said he was keepin’ track of us after your lunch meeting the day we started filming.” I gave him a dirty look. “You must have had him and Willy tag-teaming us.”
He scowled.
“I gave the money to Cale. He said he’d take it back to the station in case the owner showed up for it.”
“He never said a word to me.”
Should I tell him about the connection to Ryker? I’d led Cale to believe I’d keep it secret, but I didn’t want Luke to think I was keeping anything from him.
“How much money are we talkin’ about?”
“I saw a five-dollar bill on top, but I’m not sure what the rest of the bills were. I asked Cale about it yesterday, and he said the owner had shown up to claim it. His name was Ed. Cale said he owned a motorcycle-repair shop and often dealt in cash.” I watched Luke’s face. “From the description, I knew Ed wasn’t the one who’d dropped the money.”
“Ryker Pelletier.” He pushed out a breath of frustration. From the look in his eyes, I suspected that he wanted to tell me that Ryker was dead, but he held his tongue. “Was Dixie with you when you saw this happen?”
“She was in the truck. She didn’t see anything. But Luke, there was something else.” He waited with a worried look. “I saw Ryker talking to the mayor.”
He looked even more torn. “Go on.”
“In the alley behind Maybelline’s diner, and it wasn’t a friendly conversation.”
He sat back in his seat and looked out the windshield. “Ryker had a zoning issue with the city. He could have been talkin’ to Mayor Sterling about that.”
“You don’t look convinced.”
“I don’t know what’s goin’ on in this town right now.” He sounded frustrated. “Did you tell Dixie about all of this?” The look on my face must have answered that question, because he followed up with, “Does she know what the argument was about?”
“How would she know? She and Ryker broke up a month ago.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I saw Ryker headin’ out to the Baumgartner farm last week.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Dixie told me they broke up. In fact, she and Teddy had a small argument over it last night before we went to bed.”
“Argument over what?”
“Teddy not approving of her datin’ him.” He didn’t look altogether convinced, but I didn’t want to talk it to death. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “If we’re gonna do this, we need to hurry up so I can get back on time.”
I opened the car door, knowing he probably wasn’t done with me yet. He caught up pretty quickly.
He glanced around and lowered his voice. “Is it possible someone saw you pick up the money? The thief went for your window in the break-in.”
I stopped walking. “First of all, how would they know about the money, and second, how would they know which window was mine?”
“I don’t know, Summer,” he said in frustration. “It’s Sweet Briar. People talk.”
“About which bedroom window is mine?” I asked in disbelief.
“When was the last time anyone tried to break in to your family’s farmhouse?”
That question hurt, but I knew it was unintentional. “I don’t know. I’ve been estranged from my family since Pawpaw, Uncle Stanley, and Aunt Merilee died.”
“Well, I’ve been on the police force since I was twenty years old, and I’ve never once been out to a break-in call at the farm before last night. Do you ever remember there being a break-in when you were growing up there?”
“No.”
“There are a few too many coincidences piling up here. And a lot of them have some kind of link to you.”
He was right, but I was about to tell him off for suggesting I had something to do with it when he lifted a finger and put it on my parted lips.
“I’m not insinuatin’ that you’ve done anything wrong,” he said in a husky voice.
I knew I needed to pay attention to his words, but nearly every part of me was focusing on his finger pressed against my lips. My body was on fire from a single touch, and from the look in Luke’s eyes, he felt it too.
Focus, Summer.
I pushed his hand away, but I didn’t put much force behind it. “Then what are you sayin’?”
“Dixie mentioned that you have people who hate you and would want to hurt you just because of who you are. Do you think that’s true?”
“I don’t have anyone pissed at me at the moment except for a forty-three-year-old man from Omaha who’s sporting a black eye.”
Luke grinned. “Amber told me all about that punch.” His grin spread. “Let me guess. He asked you to say the Gotcha! line.”
I gave him the stink-eye. He knew how much I hated it. “Maybe.”
“Is it possible that someone’s stalking you?”
“Why would someone be stalking me? I haven’t been popular for years.”
“Nothing unusual? Letters? Phone calls?”
“No . . . Wait.” Surely there wasn’t a connection, but I might as well mention it. “I was getting calls after I hit that guy. My friend Marina said they stopped after I left.”
“What did the caller say?”
“My name. He’d kind of whisper it and then hang up.”
“A man?”
“Yeah.”
“Does he sound old? Young?”
“I don’t know, Luke. He always whispered it. I couldn’t tell.”
“What did the police say?”
“I never called them. It was Malibu. What are they going to do about a bunch of hang-up calls? They would have told me to change my number.”
His eyes darkened. “The calls came to your home phone? Not your cell?”
“Right.”
“Listen to me. If you get even the hint of a similar call, I want to know.”
“And what are you gonna do about it? Trace the number? You know you can’t do that for an annoyance call.”
He grabbed my arm a
nd tugged me closer, his voice turning husky again. “Humor me.”
My breath stuck in my chest being this close to him. “Fine,” I forced out. “I’ll tell you, but I don’t anticipate getting any.”
He stared into my face, and the way his lips parted made me wonder if he was thinking about kissing me.
“So let’s say the calls are from some creeper,” I said, feeling dizzy again. I wasn’t sure if it was from my head injury or from being this close to Luke. I took a step back, out of his reach. “That doesn’t explain Ryker or Ed or the mayor. And how would the creeper know about Otto? And why would he move him? That makes no sense.”
He pushed out a long breath as he scanned the parking lot, then he shook his head. “There’s a personal element here, Summer. Why else send you to find Otto?” Frustration filled his eyes.
“Let’s go talk to the minister and see if he can shed any light on anything. Lauren will make my life miserable if I’m not back in time.”
“Okay.” He put his hand at the small of my back as we walked the rest of the way to the front door of the church. I remembered the way to the office, but obviously Luke had been here before too. When we got to the reverend’s office, his secretary was sitting at her desk, greeting us with a wide smile.
“Hello, Chief Montgomery,” she said. She looked a whole lot less friendly when she turned to me. “And nice to see you again so soon, Summer. Are you two here to see Reverend Miller?”
“Yeah,” Luke said. “Is he in?”
“He’s quite the popular guy. He’s had a few people dropping in today. In fact, he’s in there with a sheriff’s deputy right now.”
I glanced over at Luke. I wasn’t sure if that news was good or bad—at least the deputy was doing his research? But the look on Luke’s face told me it wasn’t ideal.
“I see,” he said. “Maybe we could ask you a few questions, Anabelle.”
She smiled up at him, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. “Of course. Whatever I can do to help, Luke.”
Luke ignored her insult toward me, but I frowned.
“When Summer was here with her crew yesterday, she talked to a man she thought might be the janitor. He had popped out of a classroom. This guy was about five-ten, short, brown hair, like a crew cut, and a little bit of a beard. Blue T-shirt and jeans. Do you know who it could have been? Possibly a new temporary employee? Someone who was hired to help out with landscaping?”
She looked up at me with suspicion in her eyes. “This is about your mystery man, isn’t it? That’s what the deputy is talking to the reverend about now.”
“Shows what a fool he is.” Luke grinned. “Anabelle, we both know that you’re the one to talk to, now don’t we?”
She giggled, keeping her eyes on the chief of police.
“Who do you think the guy could have been?”
“The deputy thinks she made him up.”
Luke’s back stiffened. “Is that what he told you?”
“No, he didn’t have to. I could see it in his eyes.” She held her first two fingers up to her own eyes as though she was about to poke them out.
“And what do you think?” Luke asked. “I take it no one comes to mind who fits that description.”
“No. No one.” She glanced up at me with eyes full of judgment. “Deputy Dixon said she was makin’ things up for that show, and Nettie Peabody confirmed it.”
“That’s the producer’s doin’,” I said. “And only for the cameras. There were no cameras around when I talked to the guy here yesterday, so there would be no reason for me to lie.” Not entirely true, but the camera hadn’t been rolling while I was running for my life.
Anabelle didn’t look totally convinced. “Unless you moved his body there.”
“But why?” I asked. “Why would I do that?”
“For your show.”
It was obvious we weren’t going to get any information here, but I wanted to plead my case anyway. “I’m not lying, Miss Anabelle. I’ve got no reason to lie, and I’ve got every reason to find the very real man I talked to yesterday, if for no other reason than to find out how he knew Otto was out there.”
Luke added, “He might have seen something else to help us figure out what happened.”
“Oh,” she said, some of her antagonism fading. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“If something comes to mind, will you call me?” Luke asked. “Tell Amber you need to speak directly to me.”
“Okay.”
Luke cast a glance toward the closed door, then gestured toward the hallway. I led the way, but when we got to the hall, he headed away from the exit toward the bathrooms.
“Where are you going?” I asked quietly since he kept glancing back to see if anyone was behind us.
“To find that broom.”
“Why? To see if it exists?”
He ignored my questions and continued down the hall until he stopped in front of a door and opened it. “Bingo.”
I walked up beside him. He’d found the broom closet, and sure enough, there were three wooden handles. One belonged to a mop, and the others were brooms.
“I know this sounds crazy,” Luke said, “but is there any chance you can figure out if it was one of these brooms?”
“It was a broom, Luke. I was too busy listening to his story about Otto’s bike. Unless you dust for prints, how is this goin’ to help?”
“I am going to dust for prints.”
My eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want Boy Wonder to see us, so try to figure out which one it was.”
I studied them both and finally pointed to the one on the left. “That one.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I remember seeing that red splotch of paint on the handle.”
“Okay.” He glanced down the hall toward the office, then grabbed an unused cleaning rag from the cart. He opened it up, wrapped it around the handle, and pulled it out of the closet. “Let’s go.”
I felt naughty, like the time I snuck into Connor’s dressing room and drew a mustache on a life-size photo of him some fan sent, then convinced my hairdresser to give me an alibi. That was Luke and me now as we hurried out of the church.
He stuffed the broom into the back seat of the squad car, and when we both got inside, I started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I just stole a broom with the chief of police.”
He grinned. “While it’s true we might have appropriated it under dubious circumstances, and it probably wouldn’t hold up in a court of law, I’m hoping your helpful friend left some decent prints. If he’s been arrested before, I can find him in the system.”
He pulled out of the lot just as Deputy Dixon came strutting out of the building.
“Do you think he saw us?” I asked.
Luke glanced in his rearview mirror. “I know he saw my car, but I’m not sure if he saw you.”
We were silent during the short drive to my office. Luke pulled into a parking space and turned to face me. “I’ll be out of the office this afternoon, but if Deputy Dixon shows up wanting to talk to you, call me straight away. Don’t answer any of his questions until I get there.”
“Okay.”
“And if anything happens to make you feel unsafe, call me.”
“Okay.”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I want to make sure this is perfectly clear. Call my cell phone. Skip Amber. And if you can’t get ahold of me and it’s an emergency, call Cale. I’ll give you his number.”
“I already have it. I’ll be fine.”
He gave me a stern look. “Summer . . . be careful.”
“Thanks.” When he was being protective and caring like this, it was easy to gloss over all the crap that had happened between us, but I was pretty sure ignoring it was a bad idea. Still, my brain seemed to have forgotten to tell my body.
He was watching me with his dark, worried eyes, and damned if m
y body didn’t turn and lean toward him. My hand started to lift to touch him before I came to my senses.
Starting something with Luke was a very, very, very bad idea.
“I’ve gotta go.” I scrambled out of the car, because at the moment, the real danger was sitting behind the wheel of the police chief’s cruiser.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
By the time Lauren called it a day at six thirty, I was beyond exhausted. I’d forced myself to look attentive for the last thirty minutes while a woman told me her house was either haunted or her ex-husband was harassing her. We promised we’d get to the bottom of it. Since these cases all seemed to be preplanned, I’d bet good money that Lauren would have us insist it was the ghost, specifically the one that old-timers said roamed the streets of Sweet Briar. I suspected the legend was pure prime-time gold in her eyes.
“We have an eight-a.m. call time tomorrow, so everyone be on time,” Lauren said as the crew began to pack up. “And, Summer,” she said, turning to me, “your little staycation is over. You’re going back out in the field tomorrow, so be prepared. We’ll be lucky to finish filming on time as it is.”
Only Lauren would consider working from a chair while recovering from a concussion a staycation, but I was too tired to argue with her. Besides, we both wanted the same thing—to not only wrap up the show, but to have it do extremely well. We just had two different ways of approaching it.
“And this look”—she waved her hand in a circle while pointing it at me—“is a good look for you. Wear another dress tomorrow.”
I was certain I’d heard her wrong. “You want me to wear a dress to investigate cases?”
“Yes,” she said with a snappy attitude. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Actually, I do. A good PI blends in, and there’s no way I’ll blend in wearing dresses and flats. In case you hadn’t noticed, no one dresses like that around here, with the exception of the Hintons, and they don’t count because they aren’t from around here.”
“Well, maybe if you were a real investigator, that would be a concern, but everyone knows that there’s nothing real about reality TV. This is a good look for you, Summer, so you need to exploit it for as long as you can, because you don’t have anything else. You are a talentless former teen star who was only popular because of her looks and her fake clean persona.”
Deadly Summer (Darling Investigations Book 1) Page 25