“Blow to the back of the head. And his arm was broken. Witnesses say you threatened to break it, Mr. Flynn.”
“I threatened to break his elbow, to be clear.” Wilder’s temper was getting the better of him.
Detective Bodine simply nodded once. “Did you threaten any other bones? Because when the assailant was done with him, he was unrecognizable. Pulverized.”
Cosette winced.
“Where were you Tuesday night between 10:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m.?”
Wilder huffed. “I was here. Asleep. Alone.”
“And you, Miss LaCroix?”
“Same. Here. In my apartment alone.” She sighed. “Beau was an old boyfriend, which I’m sure by now you know. He was known for being a hothead and a jerk, especially when drunk. He was drunk last Friday night.” She explained what had happened and what was said. “Wilder stepped in to help me. He would never kill someone in cold blood and so violently.”
“Someone was pretty ticked at Beau. I’m going to find out who.”
“I hope you do,” Wilder said and stood. “But you won’t find him here at CCM. If you really want to find a killer, try Jeffrey Levitts.” Wilder told him about the break-in and all that had transpired before and after. “But in case it’s not Levitts, we don’t want him to know we’re looking into him. Get my drift?”
“I’ll be discreet, Mr. Flynn. But maybe don’t take any trips out of the country for a while.”
The detectives left and Wilder locked up, then turned to Cosette. “Well, what do we make of this?”
“I don’t think he’s buying the Jeffrey Levitts story.”
“I don’t, either. But about the way Beau was murdered, what do you think?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “The manner of death denotes rage. Anyone could have those feelings concerning Beau. He was a pompous mule. Picked fights as long as I’ve known him. This could be coincidence or...”
“Or Jeffrey followed you to New Orleans, saw the altercation and exacted revenge on your behalf. In the name of twisted love.”
Cosette licked her lips. “He’d see me as his possession, and someone else hurt that possession.”
“Does Jeffrey have that kind of rage?”
“I’ve witnessed his wrath, but it mostly came in rants. But if he’s pushed and delusional, then yes, he could have done this. And he’s smart enough to frame you, Wilder. He won’t like you being at my side, fighting for me...putting your arm around me. You’ll be a threat. And a target.”
“Did you look over your patient list like you said you would? Anyone there at all who might have developed an obsession for you? And think about places you go routinely. Cleaners. Grocery stores. Anywhere someone might see you or talk to you enough to become infatuated with you.”
Cosette twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “If there is, I’ve missed it. And who else would know where my mom is buried, or that I visit her on Mother’s Day? It has to be Jeffrey. It reeks of him.”
Okay then. It was time for Wilder to take further action. He might not be able to waltz into Jeffrey Levitts’s face and demand answers, but he had a friend in Washington—a PI—who wouldn’t mind being discreet and getting Wilder some intel.
And if Jeffrey Levitts wanted to pick a fight with Wilder, bring it. He was more than ready.
* * *
The weekend had been hard for Cosette, especially Mother’s Day. She’d spent it with the Flynn family, along with Jody and Evan, and Jody’s mother and brother, Locke, who was in town briefly before storm-chasing season.
She knew Wilder had wanted to make the day as smooth as possible for her, but seeing his mom and dad and the way they loved one another, sharing playful swats in the kitchen and stealing kisses, only made her ache for family—a healthy family. She’d never seen her parents love on each other. Wilder’s mom had been gracious and sweet, tending to everyone’s needs. Wilder was truly blessed to have a family that close-knit.
But she’d only missed Mama even more. Missed sitting at her grave and thinking back to fond memories of her. Wilder had offered to fly her to New Orleans to visit, but she’d declined. It would take him away from his mama. Every moment with the ones you loved should be treasured and she’d had the previous weekend with Mama. That would do, but she was ever grateful for his big heart. A heart that continued to draw Cosette close. A place she didn’t want to be.
Now, on Monday, it was business as usual. Cosette had seen clients and was ending the day before lunch. She grabbed her purse and the pink box of muffins she’d been given earlier by a client. She stopped at Crista’s desk. “I’m about to leave, but if you need anything, let me know. I’ve locked up my office.”
It turned out Crista had run late the morning the envelope had showed up on Cosette’s desk, and she hadn’t let anyone inside or seen anyone. It must have been a colleague. Maybe Dr. McMillian let someone in. She’d check with him next time she saw him. At the moment, Cosette’s nerves were shot. She wasn’t sleeping well.
Wilder should be here in five minutes. He’d promised not to sit in the parking lot anymore, but she didn’t completely believe him. He’d also asked her to trim down her appointments, since he knew she wouldn’t completely give up coming to work.
She stepped out into the hall and sat on the bench to watch for Wilder. Saturday night had been almost perfect had a stalker not been somewhere in the shadows. Not just a stalker, but a possible murderer now. What had triggered Jeffrey’s new attempt to track her down? To go from fixation to cold-blooded killing? Had she gotten it wrong? Could it be someone else? No one had invaded her space. Made her feel jumpy. But then, Jeffrey had been a sweet talker. And Cosette had been needy.
Needy people tended to walk blindly.
She refused to be that person—weak and fickle when it came to men because she desperately needed love and affection from a male. She wasn’t codependent any longer. That was her past. But knowing the definitions and repeating the mantras “I am independent” and “I do not need a man” hadn’t changed her. She’d fallen right into Jeffrey’s deceptive charm.
She wasn’t going to fall for Wilder. He was her boss. Mr. Control. He couldn’t help himself. It was his nature. Control his surroundings. His people. Outcomes. The man was relentless, unbending. Always got his way. And sometimes she caved to what he wanted. If she fell in love with him, she’d lose her voice. Her own identity would drown in the massive presence of Wilder Flynn.
“You’re off in la-la land.” Roger leaned against the wall and pointed to the pink box she held on her lap. “Whatcha got there?”
“Oh. Kariss Elroy was my last patient and she brought these to me—to everyone. You want one? Blueberry muffins.” Food wasn’t technically a gift, and since it was for everyone, Cosette didn’t have to reject it. Unlike other personal gifts clients had offered in the past. Accepting gifts gave patients the wrong idea, could lead to transference.
“Nah. I’m trying to stay away from carbs.”
Cosette chuckled. Wilder pulled under the portico, but remained inside the SUV. That was a step in the right direction, but she had a hunch it was all he could do to stay put. She waved. He lifted his chin.
“Is your car in the shop or something?” Roger asked.
She didn’t want to involve her colleague. “It’s not drivable at the moment, yes.” Not a lie. Let Roger draw his own conclusion.
He glanced at Wilder. “Well, if he’s ever busy and you need a ride...”
“Thanks.” Wilder would never allow it. And that thought alone was another nail in his coffin. Allow or not allow. Nope. She did not answer and obey like a child or a pet. She stood, hurried outside and climbed into the car. “Thank you for not busting up on the scene.”
“I get boundaries. But I’m also overzealous at times. You’ll have to accept that.” Wilder pulled from the lot. “What’s in that box? I
smell something sweet.”
The man had a major sweet tooth. It was shocking he was as solid as he was. “Muffins.”
A small compact car was parked in the circular drive at CCM, but no one was inside. “Do you know that car?” Cosette asked.
Wilder grimaced and cut the engine. “Yep.” He escorted Cosette inside.
Aurora Marsh met them at the door. “You have company, Wilder. If you need anything, I’ll be on the back porch with Beckett.”
“Mr. Wilder!” A little girl with long dark curls and a glittery pink shirt shot out of the conference room and charged toward him.
Panic flashed in his eyes, but then he beamed. “Hey, Renny-girl!” He scooped her up in his arms and she planted a fat kiss on his scruffy cheek. It turned Cosette as mushy as the bread pudding from the other night. She’d never seen Wilder with a child before.
“I drew you a picture.”
“I can’t wait to see it.” He lowered her and gave a tender look to the woman peeking from the conference room. Tall. Slender. Silky dark hair like the little girl. And a smile that would light up a Fourth of July party. Cosette had never seen her before.
Late twenties maybe.
“I should have called. I’m sorry.” The woman strode to Wilder and hugged him, kissed his cheek.
Were they...together? Wilder kept his personal life in a locked vault.
“No, it’s fine. But I’d planned to see you in two weeks.” He glanced at Cosette. She studied his body language. Shifting his weight, a tick in his cheek, Adam’s apple prominently bobbing... He was nervous. Uncomfortable. But not with the woman or the child.
With Cosette being there.
He didn’t like this situation.
This woman had just shown up. Sidestepped his plan. He’d lost control.
“And canceled, if I remember. Pressing matter.” The woman raised her eyebrows.
Was she the pressing matter? “I’m Cosette LaCroix.” She shook the woman’s hand, tired of being visible but nonexistent.
“Macy Moore.”
“Macy and I are friends,” Wilder said, but his voice held uncertainty.
Friends.
Cosette didn’t notice a wedding band.
“I was in town to see Mama and we wanted to visit you.” Macy ruffled Renny’s hair. “Lunch?”
“Mr. Flynn, we’re gonna take a lunch break.” The young man who’d retrieved Cosette’s keys stepped inside the foyer. Wesley.
Wilder raked his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Sure. You don’t have to let me know that.”
“Right.” He gave Cosette a lopsided grin. “Afternoon, Cosette. Keeping up with those keys?”
“It’s Miss LaCroix,” Wilder growled.
“Right,” Wesley said and slid out the door.
“Overzealous?” Cosette remarked.
“Little bit.” Wilder’s voice was tight.
“Lunch?” Macy asked again.
Wilder pressed his hands to his brow. “Beckett’s here.” He looked at Cosette as if considering what to do with her. “You’ll be all right for a while?”
“I’m fully capable of taking care of myself, and like you said, Beckett’s here if I need anything.”
“Let’s go to Chuck E. Cheese, Mr. Wilder, like last time.” Renny tugged on his button-down shirt.
Last time?
“If Aunt Macy says we can. She’s the boss.”
Since when was anyone the boss other than Wilder?
“I’m all for pizza,” Macy said. “Nice meeting you, Cosette.”
That was a dismissal if ever there was one, but since Macy was obviously Southern, she’d done it with grace as sweet as the pitcher of tea in the fridge.
“Yeah. You, too.” Cosette stood in the foyer staring at the door, feeling alone and confused. Wilder hadn’t left her side for a second. Not until this woman showed up with her niece. Friends. It shouldn’t matter that Wilder had a personal life. He’d never indicated that Cosette was more than a colleague or a friend. A woman in need of help. Except sometimes it felt like maybe...maybe something was there. Something that shouldn’t be.
“That’s a door,” Jody said with a smug smile and stood shoulder to shoulder with Cosette. “You can walk in or out of it. In case you’re confused.”
Cosette tossed her the stank eye, but she was staring at a door like an idiot. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I work here. And I smelled those blueberry muffins a mile away.”
She would with her condition—heightened sense of smell—but it wasn’t always a blessing. Cosette had witnessed the headaches and nausea at times. “You’re welcome to as many as you’d like,” she said, still flustered over Wilder’s behavior and the mystery woman. “Did you know that woman who was here?”
Jody’s eyebrows inched up slightly.
“I’m just curious. Don’t read more into it than necessary.”
“Macy Moore. She lives in Augusta with her niece. Has custody of her.” Jody eyed her. “Where did they go?”
“Lunch.”
“Hmm...well, don’t get all stirred up over it. They’re just friends. Wilder dated Renny’s mom off and on back when they were in high school. Then he went into the navy and she went off to school to be a photojournalist, but I think after college and in between tours they dated a little. Nothing serious.”
“Where is she now? The sister?”
“She died. A year before Meghan. In Istanbul. I think she was writing a story on child sweatshops and government cover-ups. Anyway, I don’t know all the details. But Wilder has kept in touch with the family.”
Of a woman he’d dated some over the years but wasn’t that serious about? Cosette wasn’t buying it.
“Speaking of lunch, you hungry?”
“I could eat.” But she’d rather know why Wilder had been so nervous and why he routinely visited the sister of a deceased old girlfriend. Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Had her father’s lawyer decided to be sneaky?
Or...
She ignored it.
It rang again.
Every nerve burned cold.
“What is it?” Jody asked, as the phone continued to ring.
“Unknown number.”
“Answer it. We can get Wheezer to track it.”
Cosette needed to be brave. To face this head-on. She punched the green button. “Hello,” she said, with as much confidence as she could muster.
Something muffled sounded in the background. She wouldn’t say Jeffrey’s name and give him the delusion she’d been hoping it was him. “Hello,” she said again. “I’m hanging up.”
“I miss you.” A whisper filtered through the line, but she could barely make it out. “Soon.”
The phone went dead.
She bent at the knees, gulping air and clutching the box of muffins. Jody rubbed her back. “Deep breaths.”
Cosette couldn’t control the hyperventilation.
“Easy, Cosette.” Jody continued to rub her back until she could get it under control.
“He said ‘soon.’”
“Soon we’ll put his butt in prison...or the ground. I don’t mind either place.” Jody reached for the cell phone. “I’m taking this to Wheezer. Probably not enough to do a trace, but with him, who knows. Go in the kitchen and get a glass of water. Keep breathing.”
A sliver of hope that Jeffrey was done terrorizing her again was lost. God, help me. Have mercy on me.
Cosette entered the kitchen on jellied legs.
Amy was filling a tray with glasses and lemonade. “You want a glass of—are you okay?”
She faked a smile. “Just a rough day. I’m fine. How are the ice-skating bruises?”
“Fading. Why don’t you come outside and relax? I made
lemonade. Nice breeze and Wheezer turned on the porch fans.”
Maybe the conversation and whir of the ceiling fans would calm her frayed nerves. Take her mind off the fact a crazy man was coming for her. When he did, what did that mean? What would he do?
“What’s in the box?” Amy asked.
“Muffins. From a patient.”
Amy grinned. “Yum. Bring them with us. I rarely get Wheezer off those screens. If I don’t hurry, I’ll be enjoying the breeze with the painting crew. Not cool.”
Cosette couldn’t even manage a half smile, but she followed Amy outside. Her stomach twisted into a figure eight. She greeted the four painters sitting at the table.
“Where’s Wheezer?” Amy asked.
“Some blonde called him inside,” Wesley said.
Jody. Cosette turned to go see if he’d found anything out this fast, but Jody opened the door. “Be a minute,” she said.
Amy and Cosette took empty seats. The smell of paint was strong, but the house was looking white and fresh again. The crew dived into the muffins and chugged the lemonade. Cosette couldn’t bring herself to nibble on one or sip a drink.
Jeffrey was out there.
Coming for her.
Soon.
FOUR
Wilder parked behind Macy’s car at CCM. Some of the painting crew, Cosette, Jody and Amy sat on the porch with lemonade. Cosette seemed preoccupied. After being at Chuck E. Cheese for an hour, he wanted nothing but peace and quiet, but there was no way that was going to happen.
Wilder strategically worked to keep Macy and Renny from CCM. They were walking billboards of Wilder’s failure. Them showing up unexpected was going to draw curious minds to ask questions. Curious minds like Cosette’s. She’d been staring, calculating.
“We’re going to be in town for a couple of weeks. You don’t mind if we come by some, do you?” Macy asked and helped Renny from the SUV.
“Yeah! I want to see the horse barn.”
“We don’t have horses,” Wilder said. Yet. He’d made a few calls the past couple days. Found a guy who had a horse farm. Thought he’d take Cosette out there this afternoon.
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