by Rebecca Deel
His eyebrows shot up at the sight of Weston and Barton standing in the living room, facing Mason and Nicole. How did the detectives know where to find them? Had he made a mistake? His gut clenched at the possibility he might have endangered the woman he loved through carelessness.
Beside him, Grace stiffened. Trent pressed the palm of his free hand against her lower back, silently urging his girlfriend not to panic. The Dynamic Duo couldn’t know he and Grace had been in Satterfield’s house. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have left after getting no response to their knocks. Grace needed to relax or the men would wonder why she was so nervous. “Detectives. What are doing here?”
“Where have you been?” Barton demanded.
Trent held up the bags of food, grateful for fast metabolism. “Buying dinner. Your turn. Why are you here?”
“Follow up.”
Really? Trent’s eyes narrowed. Looked as though the detectives had something more on their minds than asking the same questions. “Try again.”
Weston snorted. “You think you’re pretty smart, St. Claire.”
A shrug. “You hungry?”
The detectives exchanged glances. “We could eat,” Barton muttered. “Haven’t had a chance to stop for food since we were at the hospital when Mr. Bowen was brought in.”
Long day. He’d had his share of those. “Sit down. I bought plenty of food.” Trent set the bags on the breakfast bar. “Only one stipulation, gentlemen. No shop talk while we eat.”
The cops sat on the loveseat, leaving the sofa and recliner for the rest of them. “I’ll get the soft drinks.” Mason stood. “I’ll bring a variety. You can choose what you want.”
“I’ll go with you,” Nicole said.
While they were gone, Trent emptied the food bags. The scent of barbecued chicken, coleslaw, baked beans, and spiced apple slices made his mouth water. A third bag contained plates, utensils, and napkins.
Mason and Nicole distributed the soft drinks, then chose to sit at the breakfast bar while Trent and Grace ate their meals sitting on the sofa.
To their credit, the detectives kept the conversation to neutral topics. Once they finished the meal, Trent and Mason packed up the remaining food and stored it in the refrigerator. They had just enough food for Adam if he was hungry when he returned.
“Have you located Clarice?” Grace asked.
“Not yet.” Weston pulled a notebook from his pocket along with a pen. “We’re following a few leads.”
Trent translated that into they didn’t have anything to go on. If they did know something, the two men wouldn’t be here, harassing them. “What do you want?”
“Guess the truce is over.” Barton’s smile held no warmth or humor, more a baring of teeth.
“What do you know about an attorney named Ron Satterfield?” Weston’s pen was poised over his pad.
“Not much.” Trent threaded his fingers through Grace’s. Her hand trembled, the cold from her skin seeping into his own. “We met him at the Randall home. That’s when we learned he’s a partner in Simon’s law firm.”
Nicole twisted in her seat to stare at the detectives. “Do you know how Judy is?”
When both men’s expressions went blank, Trent knew the sweet woman who had opened her home to them two evenings before was gone.
“She didn’t make it,” Barton said.
Nicole pressed her face against Mason’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Oh, no,” Grace whispered. “I don’t understand why someone would kill her and Simon.”
“You tell us, Ms. Rutledge.”
“If I knew why they were targets, I’d share the information. Simon and Judy were great people and didn’t deserve what happened to them.”
“You don’t have a clue what’s going on, do you?” Nicole’s voice conveyed her contempt for the two officers. “What about looking for the real culprit instead of going for an easy solution that’s wrong? You’re so convinced we’re guilty, you aren’t willing to accept the possibility that someone else might be responsible for the killing spree.”
Mason laid one finger gently on her lips. When she glanced his way, he shook his head.
“Nic has a point.” Grace tightened her hand around Trent’s. “You have no proof we’re guilty of hurting Devin or the Randalls, yet you persist in digging deeper, ignoring other people with motive to hurt them.”
“Yeah, see, that’s the thing that bugs us.” Barton sneered. “You and your sister have the motive, means, and opportunity. Other people, not so much.”
“Have you looked?” Mason asked.
“Sure, straight at you and lover-boy here,” he said, inclining his head toward Trent.
Perfect. Just what Trent didn’t want to hear. “This is getting us nowhere. Did you want to ask anything else? We can’t help you with information we don’t have about Satterfield.”
“So you haven’t seen him?” Weston held up his hand to his partner, halting any response he might have spat out at Trent and the others.
“Not since the night we transported Devin to the hospital.”
At that moment, the door to the suite opened and Adam strode inside. His face betrayed no response to seeing the other two men in the suite although he nodded to acknowledge their presence.
“Detectives Weston and Barton, this is my friend, Adam. He’s helping with protection. Adam, these are the detectives investigating Devin’s poisoning and the murders of Simon and Judy Randall.”
“Sorry to hear about Mrs. Randall.” Adam slid his Go bag off his shoulder and stashed it inside the bedroom door where he’d be sleeping. When he returned, Trent told him about the meal waiting for him in the refrigerator.
Barton angled his chin toward the other operative. “What’s his story?”
“A mission gone bad and, no, he can’t tell you about it. The information is classified. Anything else you want to know, Barton?”
Another showing of teeth. “How long have you known about the life insurance policy on your girlfriend?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Trent’s heart skipped a beat. Oh, man. Not good news. “Life insurance policy?”
“Don’t play innocent with us.” Weston stared at Trent, his gaze intent and jaw tight. “Barton tells me you’re a Navy SEAL with serious connections. Do you think you can sell that innocent act? How long have you known someone would benefit from her death?”
“Contrary to what you believe, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Trent didn’t like how this was shaking out. Who was doing this? He needed to uncover the culprit soon or his beautiful Grace would be seeing the inside of a jail cell. All of them might end up in a jail cell before this investigation was finished.
One thing he knew in his gut. Whoever was behind this meant to take out all three of Mrs. Bowen’s offspring or at least make that appear to be the case.
Barton sneered. “So much for you being the best.” He shifted his gaze to Grace. “If you’re smart, Blondie, you’ll find a new champion. This one’s liable to land you in jail.”
“What life insurance policy are you talking about?” Nicole asked.
“The one taken out by Devin Bowen on Blondie along with a separate one on you.” His gaze slid to Mason. “Makes me wonder how much your boyfriend values your life.”
“Knock it off. My boyfriend is not a killer.”
“The same can’t be said of St. Claire.”
Trent tightened his grip on Grace’s hand to keep her from adding more raw emotion to the mix. “When were the policies taken out?” When the detective just smiled, Trent resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So the cops were playing power games. Fine. He’d go around law enforcement to find out what he needed. He needed to move fast. Sooner or later, Barton and Weston would discover the insurance policies he’d found in Satterfield’s office, policies he believed Grace and Nicole knew nothing about.
“Look, Detective Barton,” Grace said. “It matters
when the policies were taken out. Nic and I didn’t know Mrs. Bowen was our birth mother until Monday.”
The two detectives exchanged glances again. “You can prove your claim?” This from Weston.
She retrieved her purse, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to the detective. “This is what Simon Randall gave me in his office Monday morning.”
Nicole slid down from her stool, dug out her own paper, and gave it to Barton. “Mrs. Bowen specified in her will that we weren’t to be notified of her identity until ninety days after her death. Ninety days was Monday. We didn’t know Devin existed until two days ago.”
“Hope you don’t expect me to take your word for that,” Barton said. “Someone could have leaked the news long before Monday. I bet St. Claire and his cronies would have no problem devising a plan to rid the world of a threat to his woman.”
The policemen examined the letters carefully. Weston stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He left the suite with both letters in one hand, his cell phone clutched in the other.
Trent’s cell signaled an incoming text. He checked his screen, stood. With a glance at Adam, who nodded his agreement to watch over the others, Trent walked into the bedroom he shared with the other men and closed the door.
“What do you have for me, Zane?”
“Nothing good. We had the lab fast track your bullet casing.”
“And?”
“Got nothing. No prints. No matches in the system.”
So the gun hadn’t been used in a crime until yesterday. “Not a surprise. Nothing has been easy or straightforward to this point. You could have simply texted that information. What else do you have?”
“Either Grace or someone posing as her has been making inquiries about buying land and building a house on the outskirts of Otter Creek.”
Trent frowned. He supposed his girlfriend could have been investigating that. She’d told him she wanted something of her own. Her not discussing the idea with him did surprise Trent. She’d started using him as a sounding board not long after they started dating. Had to admit it bothered him a little that she pursued the idea without at least telling him she was thinking about a house. If it was her.
Now that he wanted to marry her sooner than later, a house instead of an apartment might be a great idea. According to Mason, there was a building boom in town and a shortage of laborers. Building a new house might take as much as six or eight months to complete.
What about his job? A knot formed in his stomach. Trent loved his work. His body, however, was starting to slow down. His time in the SEALs and his years in black ops were taking their toll. Beyond that, leaving Grace was becoming harder and harder to handle. He missed her with a bone deep ache while he was gone. Couldn’t sleep much, appetite suppressed. Yeah, he was totally gone over his woman. Couldn’t deny the truth and didn’t want to. She’d burrowed deep into his heart and become as necessary to him as breathing.
“I don’t know if Grace is thinking of building a house, Z. She hasn’t mentioned it, although we haven’t had much time alone since I’ve been home.”
And there was that word again. Home. Had Otter Creek become home when he wasn’t looking? Perhaps he was associating the town with Grace. He would live anywhere as long as he was with the love of his life.
“Here’s the other problem. It’s not just a regular house, buddy. The plan mentioned in the email to Elliott Construction is for a 6,000 square foot home. There’s no way Grace could afford a house that large based on her income alone. Elliott estimated the house would cost well over $1 million to build.”
Knowing the amount of money her birth mother had set aside for her, she could pay for the home in cash. Unfortunately for the person setting up the women, the time line didn’t fit in the scheme unless they had prior knowledge of the bequest. “Then it’s definitely not Grace. She didn’t know about the money from Mrs. Bowen until Monday. What about Nicole? Anything odd with her?”
“Funny you should ask. Apparently, Nicole has been bitten by wanderlust. She’s planning to travel around the world for the next several months.”
Trent’s lips curled. “And leave her boyfriend behind? Can’t see that happening.”
“The boyfriend-girlfriend thing is fake.”
“Not so fake anymore. Someone is out to make the sisters look guilty of murdering the Randalls and attempting to kill their half brother.”
“Wait, murdering the Randalls, plural? I thought you said Simon passed away, but not his wife.”
“Mrs. Randall didn’t survive the shooting.”
Zane growled.
“Something else you need to know.” Trent explained about the insurance policies on the three siblings, and Devin’s missing wife and lawyer.
The Fortress tech guru whistled. “What do you want me to do?”
“First, find a copy of the original insurance policies. We need to know when the policies were taken out. Second, I need to locate Clarice and Ron Satterfield. They both have questions to answer.”
“I’ll start searching for them. Unless they’re off the grid, I’ll find them. Do you think they’re together?”
“Found pictures that confirmed it and, according to Grace and Nicole, they were giving off couple vibes the other night.” Though he hadn’t chimed in on that discussion, Trent noticed the atmosphere of intimacy the two created when they were in the same vicinity.
Like Mason, he felt for Devin. Had to bite seeing your wife cozying up to another man. Why wasn’t Devin more upset? Trent would never allow another man to make moves on his Grace.
“With her husband in the room to watch them interact? Cold. I’ll let you know as soon as I come up with anything. Did Adam stop by?”
“Yeah. He dropped off the package. He’ll be staying for a few days.”
Zane was silent a moment. “You can’t talk freely?”
“Nope.” He dropped his voice further. “Barton and Weston are here.”
“How did they find you?”
“Don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Do me a favor and make some inquiries at Fortress. I want to know if someone gave out too much information.”
“I can’t see one of our own putting you at risk, Trent.”
“Neither can I, but I need to be sure. I think the information came from this end, though.” If he had to guess, he’d say it was Nicole. She didn’t know exactly what Trent did or how seriously he took security. He figured one of the detectives used intimidation tactics to discover the location of their new hotel. “Later, Z.”
He slid the phone into his pocket, making a mental note to call Maddox during his turn at night watch. He’d promised to keep his boss apprised of the situation. Trent grimaced. Ethan needed the latest as well. Wouldn’t be wise to tick off Mason’s parole officer. The police chief made a formidable enemy.
When he returned to the living room, Weston was handing the letters from Mrs. Bowen to Grace and her sister.
“We’ll be in touch,” the detective said. “Don’t leave town.”
“No more moving,” Barton snapped.
“Can’t guarantee either one.” Trent folded his arms across his chest. “We have jobs. This visit to Dumas was supposed to be short term. We’ll stay here as long as Grace and Nicole are safe and our employers allow. I will let you know when we leave.”
“Listen, St. Claire, I could toss the lot of you in jail.”
“We’d already be in a jail cell if you had proof we were guilty of a crime.”
“Barton.” Weston tilted his chin toward the door. “We’ll see ourselves out,” he murmured. Another glare from Barton, and the two detectives left.
“Why won’t they leave us alone?” Nicole scowled. “We told them everything we know.”
“Your names keep surfacing in their investigation,” Adam said. “No chance that’s a coincidence.”
“How did they know where to find us?” Grace asked.
Nicole’s face flushed.
“Nicole?” Mason fro
wned. “What’s wrong?”
“You talked to one of the detectives, didn’t you?” Grace groaned. “Oh, Nic.”
The other woman flinched. “I’m sorry. Barton didn’t give me a choice.”
Mason clasped her hand. “Why did you tell them where we are?” When she refused to say anything, he sighed. “They threatened me.”
“Barton said he would take you in, tell the judge you were a flight risk, and make sure you wouldn’t get bail unless I told him. I couldn’t let him do that to you, not again.”
“The detective was blowing smoke, Nicole.” Adam stood and tossed his trash in the garbage can. “Now Mason’s safety and yours has been compromised.”
Nicole paled. “The police wouldn’t tell anyone. Would they?”
“Police stations aren’t secure. Wouldn’t be surprised if word leaks again.”
“How could you, Nic?” Grace dragged her hands through her hair, rumpling the strands. “Trent can’t be on anyone’s radar. It’s not safe for people to know where he’s staying.”
“What are you talking about? He can’t live off the grid.”
“It’s okay, baby,” Trent murmured. He didn’t want her to say something in anger she might regret later.
“No, it’s not. She has to know how this works. I love you too much to lose you because we compromised your safety, Trent.” She moved two steps closer to Nicole. “There are evil people who have a bullet with Trent’s name on it. If they find out where he is, his sister Darcy, her husband Rio, plus Rio’s teammates and their wives are all in danger from these people. If they find Trent, they find me, you, and Mason.”
“You’re serious?” Nicole whispered.
“Trent’s a SEAL and still works missions in ugly places around the world with Fortress. His enemies would love nothing better than to kill him and anyone he cares about.”
Tears pooled in the other woman’s eyes when she looked at Trent. “I’m sorry, Trent. I was trying to protect Mason.”
The construction worker hooked his arm around Nicole’s shoulders and tucked her against his side. “I can handle whatever I have to. My main concern is you and your safety. Don’t put yourself at risk again, baby.”