by Lora Leigh
SEVEN
There was very little to be found in the remains of Joe and Jaime’s mobile home. Bedsprings, the springs on the couch and chair. Appliances were blackened and melted in spots; the rest was pretty much cinders. Standing at the edge of the burned remains, Zeke could remember what he had seen when he had been there the day he found the twins.
The burned, twisted metal left from the recliner became the chair Jaime had died in. Surprise. There had been an expression of complete surprise frozen on his face. There had been something, someone he hadn’t expected with his brother.
Zeke narrowed his eyes as he imagined how it could have played. Joe arriving, possibly high, not exactly himself, with a friend. They step into the house as Jaime stares at his brother in surprise. A second later, he was dead.
Zeke stepped into position, lifted his arm, and pointed his finger as though it were a weapon, imagined it firing, saw in his mind’s eye where the bullet may have caught Jaime.
Either the killer was a quick aim, or he was taller than Zeke. Taller, Zeke thought. The killer’s arm came up and he fired, dead center between Jaime’s eyes before the other man could raise up in his chair.
Joe was high, but he would have been surprised by the shot. Turned a little, just enough. The gun barrel against his head. Pop. Zeke imagined the shot, saw where it went, and nodded his head slowly.
“Been a long time since I’ve seen you do that.”
Zeke froze at the sound of Gene’s voice behind him. Turning slowly, he found Gene’s cruiser parked farther down the graveled road.
Zeke shrugged in answer to Gene’s comment. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to do it.”
Gene shoved his hands into his uniform pockets and frowned as he stared around the small valley. “Guess you were right about something not being right about those boys’ deaths,” he stated. “Someone made damned sure that fire was hot enough to wipe that trailer out.” He turned and looked at Zeke in confusion. “Why the hell would someone want to kill those two boys?”
Zeke breathed in heavily before turning away and staring out over the valley.
“I figure it had something to do with the girl,” he finally answered, and it struck him that he was having to tell too many damned lies lately in an attempt to protect the information he was looking for.
Gene didn’t say anything. When Zeke turned back to him the other man was watching him closely.
“You don’t tell me stuff anymore, Zeke.” He sighed. “We used to share cases like this.”
Yeah, they had, until information had begun leaking from the office, until he had lost DHS’s support and cooperation. It bit his ass that the Mackays had been involved in investigations that Zeke should have been a part of. He wouldn’t have even known why he had been pushed out of it if his contact in Washington hadn’t suggested that was the cause last year.
“It’s nothing personal, Gene,” he told him, though that, too, was a lie. Gene had been a part of the Freedom League along with Zeke when they were younger. Zeke had believed Gene had gotten out after he left, but information he had dug up over the years suggested otherwise.
Gene nodded slowly as though accepting the explanation. “Do you have any idea who the girl is?” Gene finally asked.
Zeke shook his head. “No clue. And that’s damned strange in this town.”
“No kidding,” Gene snorted. “I’ve asked around myself and haven’t gotten any answers. Those boys didn’t seem to trust anyone where she was concerned.”
Zeke felt a pulse of energy at Gene’s statement. If Joe and Jaime didn’t trust anyone with their potential lover’s identity, then it was because they were afraid of someone. A member of her family. Father, brother, or uncle most likely.
The manner of their deaths was consistent with the exterminator’s killing style, or at least one of them. Could the man he was searching for have a daughter? A daughter the boys were messing with?
“Guess they kept her too much of a secret,” Zeke said slowly as he turned back to Gene. “She could be our only clue to who killed these boys.”
Gene nodded. “Yeah.” He ran his hand through his hair before replacing his hat and grimacing. “Too damned bad, too. A man doesn’t deserve to die like that.”
Zeke nodded to that before making his way along the graveled parking lot back to his Tahoe. “I’m heading back to town then,” he told his deputy. “See you tomorrow, Gene.”
“Yeah, sure, Zeke,” Gene answered pensively. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
What the hell was Gene doing following him? Zeke wondered as he pulled away from the wreckage of the mobile home. His deputy hadn’t cared to share a murder case with Zeke in a while. He’d taken patrol while Zeke normally worked with the state or Somerset city police himself to solve the crimes committed in the county.
Gene was hiding something, Zeke knew that. He knew the other man, sometimes better than he wanted to. And he knew Gene was keeping an eye on him for someone else. For the remaining members of the League, Zeke suspected.
Despite the knowledge he could feel burning in his gut, he knew if he didn’t come up with something soon on this case, then he would have to put it aside, close it, and let it stand as a murder-suicide. And that just pissed him off. There was something about this case that had his nerves on edge every time he thought about it. Something he knew he wasn’t seeing, and should.
He’d questioned every associate of the Walker boys that he could think of. He was pushing the coroner to push the investigative coroner, and he was harassing forensics to find something more. The only ones he hadn’t questioned yet were Joe and Jaime’s younger sister, Lisa, and their grandmother. That he would be taking care of soon.
Turning into the graveled lane that led to the Walker house, Zeke grimaced at the sight of the black Harley parked in the barren drive.
It looked pristine and out of place among the straggling weeds and clumps of grass that surrounded the house and the run-down sedan parked next to it.
The house was in need of several coats of paint, maybe a few new boards on the porch. The home itself was sturdy though. Joe and Jaime had always made certain their grandmother’s home was kept in good repair while Lisa oversaw her care.
As he stepped out of the Tahoe the door opened and Lisa, rounded and somber, stepped out on the porch. Grief had ravaged her pretty, pale face. Weariness gave her blue eyes a bruised, haunted look and thinned her lips as she watched him approach.
“Grandmother’s awake,” she breathed tiredly as he stepped up onto the porch. “She’s been demanding that I call you since we got back from Louisville.”
Zeke’s eyes narrowed. “Is everything okay?”
Lisa shook her head. “You mean other than the gossip that one of her favorite grandsons killed his brother, then himself? God, Zeke, this is killing her faster than the pneumonia is.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders for a quick hug and looked inside the house where Rogue was staring back at him silently.
“I need to talk to you, and to your grandmother if she’s up to it,” he told Lisa. “Are you up to that, Lisa?”
She nodded against his chest before moving back. “Whatever it takes to find whoever did this. Joe wouldn’t have killed Jaime. It just wouldn’t happen, Zeke. And now even our memories of them are being stripped. What the hell happened to their home?”
Yeah, that was what everyone else was telling him, too. As for the mobile home, he just didn’t have the answers he knew she needed.
Lisa turned away and led him into the house. To face Rogue. He stared into violet eyes and damned if he knew what to do. He wanted her in his arms, he wanted to lower his head and kiss those shimmering lips, and at the same time he was aware of the dangers that lurked there.
Zeke Mayes hadn’t publicly claimed a woman since his wife had died. He kept his affairs hidden and his desires carefully controlled. And controlling them had never been as hard as it was now.
&
nbsp; As he stared at her, the heated wonder in Rogue’s gaze seemed to dim when he did nothing. She turned away, her spine stiff beneath the white T-shirt she wore, her hips twitching angrily beneath her jeans as she moved toward the back of the house.
All those long, fiery curls were restrained in a braid that fell below her shoulders. She looked younger than her age, but that did nothing to cool the fire burning in his dick.
“I’ll check on Grandma, Lisa, then make coffee. You talk to Zeke,” she called back.
Zeke nearly followed her. He almost moved to grab her, to pull her back, and give her what he knew she needed. What he needed. A touch, an affirmation that there was more between them than the simple friendship he had claimed for so long.
“She’s not going to wait on you forever,” Lisa said behind him, her voice quiet.
Zeke turned and narrowed his eyes on her as her lips curved into a sad little smile.
“That’s the hazard of living where everyone knows everyone.” She shrugged. “People start seeing things when they see you every day. And Rogue’s not nearly as good at hiding what she wants as you are.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck, blowing out a hard breath.
“I need to talk to you about Joe and Jaime,” he told her, ignoring her advice. “I’m sorry, Lisa, but if I don’t get some evidence to the contrary soon, then I’m going to have to rule their deaths as a murder-suicide.”
Her lips trembled, but she nodded in acceptance. “I don’t know much, Zeke. I know they were seeing some girl. They fought over her at first. Joe was angry with Jaime for a couple days, then …” She blushed and shrugged. “You know how they were. When they argued over something like that, they either ended up both doing without it or sharing it.”
He moved to the threadbare though clean easy chair as she sat on the matching couch.
“So they were sharing a woman? Do you know who it was?” he asked her.
“I don’t know if it had gone that far yet.” She shook her head. “And they wouldn’t tell me who the girl was. They just said her daddy would have a stroke if he found out. That was a couple of days before you found them.” A tear slipped down her cheek.
“You were close to your brothers, Lisa,” he stated. “You’ve always known what they were doing.”
“And who they were doing,” she said mockingly, bitterly. “But they weren’t talking this time. They did that sometimes though, if their lover didn’t want anyone to know, then they didn’t tell, Zeke. You know how it is around here. Joe and Jaime knew how to keep their secrets, even from me. Most of the time I only found out by accident when they were dating someone together.”
“Did they say anything more about the father?” he asked.
“They didn’t say anything more, period.” She shook her head. “The next day I was at the hospital with Grandma. There was no time to question them, and I was worried about Grandma. I didn’t think.” Another tear slipped free. “I just didn’t think to question them about it.”
Another damned dead end and a secret that had killed. The story of his life for too many years to count.
“Were Joe and Jaime involved in anything else?” he asked her then. “Any kind of drugs?”
A flash of anger darkened her eyes. “Joe and Jaime didn’t do drugs, Zeke.”
“We found evidence of pot in the house, Lisa; could they have been involved with anything stronger?”
“Hell, that’s like finding a beer in the house,” she exclaimed. “Come on, Zeke, pot’s not that big of a deal around here and you know it. Sure, they smoked a little of it, but never a lot. And Joe and Jaime didn’t do the hard stuff.”
He tightened his jaw for long moments, staring back at her, hating the questions he had to ask.
“Lisa, I need you to think for me, to be very sure. Now’s not the time to try to protect Joe and Jaime, not if you want me to figure out what happened to them. Did you ever know of them doing heroin or anything stronger than a little pot?”
She stared back at him as though he were a stranger now. As though he were accusing her brothers of some heinous crime.
“Never, Zeke,” she finally answered. “And I would have known. Plain and simple, they didn’t have the money or the personalities for that junk. Joe and Jaime liked to play, they liked to have fun, and they didn’t consider hardcore drugs as fun.”
He nodded at that. Joe and Jaime didn’t do hard drugs. That was what everyone said. But someone was trying to make it look as though Joe at least had done something a lot stronger than a little pot.
“Zeke?” He turned to Rogue’s melodious voice, his body tightening, his cock giving an eager jerk at the pure, sweet sound that wrapped around his head. “Grandma Walker wants to talk to you. She said you can come in here and discuss her boys with her or you can face her once she’s strong enough to get to your office. It’s your choice.”
He grimaced at that. Callie Walker was hell on wheels when she was pissed off. If she made it to the sheriff’s office, it would be an event no one was likely to forget for a while. Callie Walker would flay the hide off a man at twenty paces with a look alone.
He rose from his seat. “I’ll talk to her.” Turning back to Lisa, he felt a senseless frustrated anger filling him. They were expecting him to fix this. To figure things out and make someone pay. He couldn’t make anyone pay without proof, and proof was sadly lacking.
Rogue watched Zeke as he moved into Grandma Walker’s room. She could hear his voice, low, deep as he talked to the old woman. It was gentle, soothing. Grandma Walker wouldn’t be with them much longer, and she knew it, ached because of it. The death of her two favorite grandsons hadn’t helped anything.
She wasn’t Rogue’s grandmother, though the old woman had all but adopted her. The relationship was distant—she was a cousin to Rogue’s father—but Rogue couldn’t have loved her more if she had been her own grandmother.
“He’s crazy about you,” Lisa said softly as Rogue moved into the room. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
Rogue snorted at that. “Not hardly, Lisa.”
Lisa shook her head. “He’s always watched you just as hard as you watch him,” she said. “He likes to deny it just as hard as you do.”
Who said she was denying her part of it?
Rogue let a soft smile tilt her lips as she sat down on the couch and drew Lisa down with her. The other girl was exhausted. She’d been trying to take care of her grandmother and her two twin boys at the same time for months. Divorced and on edge, the pressure was beginning to show on her pretty face.
“How are the boys doing?”
A small sparkle lit Lisa’s eyes. She loved her boys. “They’re with their dad tonight.” She finally sighed. “With Joe and Jaime’s deaths and Grandma’s illness, I had to beg him to help me with them. There’s just not enough hours in the day.”
“If you need anything, you’ll let me know?” Rogue asked.
“I will,” Lisa murmured, but Rogue knew her. Lisa wouldn’t tell her if she was starving; Rogue had to guess at it. She had to buy groceries and get someone else to deliver them or face Lisa’s anger. She had to slip in when Lisa wasn’t around and pay home health for Grandma Walker’s medicines and hospital bills. Lisa was proud as hell and she hated taking money from anyone, especially family.
Her head turned as Zeke moved back into the room. She fought her response to him, fought to keep her expression clear of the need and the hunger that burned inside her.
He was dressed in jeans again and his uniform shirt. A black official sheriff’s hat perched on his head. His badge was clipped to his belt and he looked so damned sexy it made her mouth water. Her hands itched to touch him, her lips felt swollen, inflamed for his kiss.
Rising to her feet, she watched him expectantly. She wanted him until she was consumed by it, but she also remembered why he was there.
“Had the boys told her anything?” Rogue asked as Lisa stood beside her.
He shook his head, his
eagle-fierce gaze going between her and Lisa.
“Nothing,” he breathed out roughly. “If forensics or the coroner’s investigator doesn’t come up with anything, I’m going to have to close this case.”
He knew something, she knew he did. She knew that closed little look, that official expression, and she hated it.
“I need to head out,” he told them, heading for the door. “If the two of you think of anything, then don’t hesitate to let me know.”
With a slight little nod of his head he walked to the door. Rogue let him get outside before she gave Lisa a quick good-bye, grabbed her backpack, and followed him.
“Sheriff?” She kept her voice casual, composed.
Show no weakness, she warned herself. No familiarity. Stay distant. Zeke didn’t like public displays of anything from women, and she knew it.
He paused by the Tahoe, watching her curiously as she moved toward him.
“We need to talk,” she told him, keeping her voice low despite the fact that there were no neighbors.
“About what?” he asked carefully.
“Joe and Jaime.” She propped her hands on her hips as she faced him. “What have you really learned?”
His arms went over his chest, his gaze became hooded. “Nothing conclusive,” he said.
“What do you have that isn’t conclusive?”
His eyes narrowed, his jaw bunched, and for a second she saw lust blaze in his eyes.
He grimaced as he glanced over her shoulder to the house. “Are you busy this afternoon?”
Surprised, Rogue shook her head. “I’m off the rest of the day. Why?”
“Follow me to the house,” he stated, opening his door and stepping into the Tahoe. “We’ll talk there.”
Follow him? To his house?
Rogue knew his farm wasn’t far from Grandma Walker’s. It was sheltered, private. Hidden. Just as his relationships and his women stayed as hidden as he could manage.