by Emmy Grace
“I figured. She said they were having their rehearsal dinner that night. She was getting married the next day. She said it was spur of the moment, that they’d planned it for the first of the year, but for some reason Ari Jameson wanted to move it up.”
“I wondered about that. The date, I mean. What woman wants to get married on the Monday before Thanksgiving?”
“Not Dahlia, evidently. But Ari must’ve really pressed the issue. So, she agreed and they threw together an impromptu wedding. But while the rehearsal dinner was going on, she started to have a panic attack and excused herself to the bathroom. She said she went to Ari’s study where it was quiet. That’s where she found the tax bill for the property Leia’s living in. She said Leia told her that her fiancé, Greg Carson, bought it before they split and he was letting her stay there out of guilt. Apparently, he cheated on her and she found out. Or at least that’s what she told Dahlia.”
I start nodding. “I told you. Princess Liar. She just needs those hair earmuffs.”
“Dahlia started putting things together. The rushed wedding, the prenup he had her sign, some other documents that he brought and asked her to sign without letting her look them over. She said he just smiled and said it was standard marital stuff that their lawyer was taking care of. Nothing for her to worry about.”
“So she could’ve signed anything.”
“Pretty much. But the thing that had her most concerned was that she’d also found an airline ticket for right after their wedding. The two of them were supposed to fly to the Swiss Alps for a month, but she found a return ticket for Ari alone, two days after they were supposed to arrive, and it was under one of his aliases.”
I gasp. “Was he planning on killing her or something while he was over there and then coming back here undetected for almost a month?”
Liam shrugs one big shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine, but it looks suspicious.”
“Okay, so then what?”
“She started crying, saying she was afraid for her life. Said she had bad taste in men, just like her mother. Dahlia didn’t have kind things to say about her. Evidently, her mom just got worse after she married Drummond. She said Julianne would’ve been better off to stay with my dad, just like she’d have been better off to stay with me.”
My eyebrows fly up again. “So Dahlia’s mom and your dad…?”
Liam curls one lip up in a sneer of distaste. “It wouldn’t surprise me. Nothing that man does surprises me.”
“Wow. Okay. Is that when she hit on you?”
Liam nods. “She tried to kiss me. Well, she actually did kiss me. I was trying to be considerate and not upset her more. Told her she was vulnerable and that I couldn’t take advantage of her, yada yada yada.”
“But you didn’t want to, right? You were just sparing her feelings, right?”
I’m nodding, almost willing Liam to agree.
“Of course I didn’t want to. And when she pressed the issue, I told her that I couldn’t get involved with someone who was associated with a man like Ari Jameson and was the stepdaughter of Drummond Sorensen. That’s when she slapped me. She never could take rejection well.”
“And that’s how your DNA got under her nails,” I supply in conclusion.
“Yep. But after she left here, I have no idea what happened. She stormed off. I caught her by the door and told her I’d still help her, just not sleep with her. She said she didn’t want my help. She got in her car and left. That was the last time I saw her until I pulled her out of the lake.”
“She got in her car,” I muse.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Then where is her car now? Why wasn’t it recovered somewhere around here?”
“Good question, but I have yet to find the answer to it.”
“You know why?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he says sardonically.
“You know me well. Because they sank it. They sank it in the lake, along with Dahlia’s body, to try and cover up the crime.”
“I love your extremely vivid imagination, but no. They didn’t. The car was parked at Ari’s.”
“How do you know that?”
“You’re not the only one with connections, remember?”
“She’s helping you, too?”
“Felonious? God, no. I called in a favor with a friend from the Bureau.”
“Oh. Cheater.”
Felonious is my only real connection, and she tortures me relentlessly, so I don’t use her nearly as much as I would if I had a friendlier person to ask.
My phone rings and I take it out of my bra. Liam looks at me like I just pulled out a snake. “What?”
“You keep that thing in your bra?”
I hold out my arms. “Where else did you think it might fit?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a holster or something.”
“A cell phone holster?” I can’t help grinning.
“Yeah, like those garter belt things you women wear. Why not just make a pouch so you can stick it in there?”
“You know, that might be kind of brilliant.”
“And you’re surprised by that?” he asks acerbically.
“I guess I shouldn’t be, because it’s practical. And you’re nothing if not practical.”
To this, he grunts. “Your turn. Tell me what you’ve found out.”
I tell Liam about the tiny marks on Dahlia’s neck and the chain imprints on her body.
His brows draw together over the bridge of his nose. “So this was premeditated.”
“Looks like it.”
“That means we need to start looking at Ari’s associates. He’d never get his hands dirty with something like this if it weren’t impulsive.”
“I’m sure a guy like that has—”
The ring of my phone interrupts me. I hold up a finger to Liam and answer it. “That was fast,” I tell Felonious.
“That’s because you never give me anything hard. I sent you links to all the files. Happy snooping.”
I pause, waiting for her to continue. “Is…is that it?”
“For now, but I’ll be sending you a package with some instructions. You’ll know what to do.”
My stomach sinks. “Oh. Okay.”
“No such thing as a freebie, Boucher. No pain, no gain and all that,” she says.
“You’re good for the pain part, that’s for sure.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she replies. “Don’t disappoint me.”
Then she hangs up.
I drop my phone into my lap with a sigh. “I really wish I could give that girl a good spankin’. She needs one.”
“How bad is it?” Liam asks.
“I don’t know yet, but I’m sure I’ll hate it, whatever it is.”
“You haven’t hated all of the things she has people do, have you?”
My belly flips over like a fish on dry land. “Uh, maybe not all.”
We stare at each other for a few heated seconds. I debate the wisdom of telling him no kissing during a case. What was I thinking?
But then, when I’ve let my thoughts run wild for a full two minutes, I snap to and realize that’s precisely why it was wise. Liam derails my thoughts by just existing. Adding anything else to the mix would be downright reckless.
Hot.
And delicious.
But reckless.
“Liam?” I ask quietly.
His eyes flicker down to my mouth as he says, “Yeah?”
“How am I going to get out of here with my butt hanging out?”
His eyes pop up to mine and for about two seconds they look slightly dazed. I feel like saying, I GET IT, MAN! I GET IT.
Then one corner of his mouth lifts. “That’s a good question.”
“Care to loan a girl one of your man-sized shirts? Like, one that will come to my knees?”
He doesn’t respond. He just gets up and disappears into his bedroom. He comes back out a minute later, carrying a blue chambray shirt
on a hanger.
He hands it over, and, without getting up, I take it and slip it on. I’m immediately assailed with the scent of his soap. That or it’s his detergent. Either way, it’s yummy and awesome and oh-so-Liam. I inhale and chills pop up and race down my arms.
He holds out his hand. I slip mine into it and let him pull me up beside him. Liam stares down into my eyes for a few seconds before he lets his gaze trail down my body. All the way to my feet and back again.
“You’d better get going,” he finally says gruffly.
I might’ve let that annoy me if I hadn’t seen the way his pupils just dilated. They whooshed out to twice their normal size. Whatever is going through his head right now, he must’ve liked what he saw.
According to Cosmo, men like to see women in their clothes. That wasn’t my plan at all. I mean, who in the world would purposely split the butt out of their dress just to turn a guy on?
Um, no one.
Anywhere.
Ever.
But if it turns out to work in my favor, so much the better.
I back away from him and walk very carefully toward the door. I pull it open and take one quick glance over my shoulder before stepping through and closing it behind me.
Liam’s standing right where I left him, staring at me like I’m the sun, walking away.
18
I’m on my way home when my phone rings again. It’s Clive.
“Hey, Clive. Whadaya know good?”
I just this minute realize how many of my expressions come from Beebee.
Regina’s right. I sound like an old lady.
I think I’ve been brainwashed.
“Got another problem, Lucky. Dahlia’s mother came in a few minutes ago. She was furious. Said she knew that Dahlia had been seeing someone else, but that she broke it off the night of the rehearsal dinner. Wants to know why he isn’t in custody.”
“Did Dahlia tell her mother this herself?”
“No, she said someone close to Dahlia came to her.”
Leia! I’d bet my life on it.
“Did she give a name? For who told her this, I mean.”
“Nope. She sure didn’t. But would you like to take stab at who she claims this mystery feller is?”
Something about the way he says it…
A knot forms in my chest. “Liam.”
“You betcha. She said Dahlia regretted getting mixed up with him and tried to break it off before the wedding. Said she wanted to fully commit to Ari.”
“What a load of crap!”
“My thoughts exactly. Problem is proving it.”
“But that burden’s not on us. Innocent until proven guilty and all that, right?”
“That’s the law, yes, but finding his DNA under her nails will make it hard to convince people he wasn’t involved like they say.”
I slow to a stop along Main Street and let my head drop back onto the headrest. “Clive, this is not good.”
“No, it’s sure not, Lucky. Maybe you can work a little faster getting this one unraveled?”
“I’ll do my best, Chief Sheriff.”
No pressure there.
We hang up and I consider wheeling back around toward Liam’s, but I don’t for two reasons. Number one, I really need to change my clothes before they get me in trouble. And number two, I’d like to take a look at what Felonious sent before telling Liam. Maybe I’ll have both a problem and a solution by then.
A girl can hope so, anyway.
I rush to the door, intent on changing super fast and then getting down to business, but my sweet animals have a whole different plan in mind.
Gumbo has taken to liking an afternoon run around the back yard. With me. He likes to chase me for some reason. I guess he thinks it’s a fun game.
By the time I unlock the door, he’s standing right in front of it, staring up at me with his cute snout and sweet eyes, wagging his curly little tail. I call it his piggle.
His expression is practically screaming PLEEEEASE!
“Who can say no to that face?”
I hurry to change clothes, but rather than sitting down with the computer, I slip on some old sneaks and go out back with Gumbo.
I take off in a slow jog around the perimeter of the fence. Gumbo is right on my heels. I stop periodically to let him “catch” me, which makes him triply excited. He snorts and oinks and jumps around like I just gave him a winning lotto ticket.
Within five minutes, Mr. Jingles is involved, chasing Gumbo as Gumbo chases me, which Gumbo gets a kick out of. Every time Gumbo pauses and spins on Mr. Jingles, he barks once and veers to the right. Heart of a lion, that one. Afraid of a tiny pig.
Lucy-fur takes her place in the sun on top of the goat house. If Ethel isn’t already on it, Lucy claims it as her outdoor high ground, where she watches the goings on around the yard. She probably thinks it’s all her territory, which it might well be. Everyone gives Lucy a wide berth.
Fred is munching on some hay that I dumped behind his house, and Ethel is on the other side of the bale, delicately chewing her way toward him. If Fred isn’t screaming, Ethel’s a placid little critter. I think her two goals in life are to eat and be left alone. Unless she’s in the mood for some loving. Then she’d stand and let me pet her until her legs fell off.
We all soak up some sun and fun until I’m out of breath and Gumbo moves to the back door to stare at me. His expression says he’s over it. So over it.
I can’t help laughing.
“Done, huh?” I ask him as I walk to the door, too. “I would say stick a fork in you, but that’s just bad manners, isn’t it, Gumbo?”
I scratch his ears and open the back door. Everyone except Fred darts inside, one right after the other. Ethel goes to the end of the couch, turns around and just looks at me. That’s her way of saying it’s her time. She needs some petting.
I grab my computer and all the wildlife settles down around me. They’re content to snooze as I snoop. Except for Ethel, who requires that I pet her head while I navigate documents with my other hand.
I open file after file that Felonious sent, scanning through them for anything noteworthy. The first thing of interest that I find is in the phone records. I’m looking for calls right around the time of Dahlia’s death, the hours before and after. What I find isn’t too surprising. There are multiple calls between Ari Jameson and a single number. The part that puzzles me is that almost all the calls are incoming, which I find strange. If Ari were directing the murder and disposal of her body, one would think he would be making the calls. Literally. But there is only one outgoing call from Ari between the start of the rehearsal dinner and the next afternoon, which was after Dahlia was discovered.
I jot down the number that called him so often, as well as the only number Ari called during that long period. I’ll see if Liam recognizes either of them. If he doesn’t, maybe I can get Clive to look into them so that I don’t have to involve Felonious again. It’s hard to tell what she’ll already have lined up for me to do. No sense making it harder on myself if I don’t absolutely have to.
I resume my scanning of all the information my law-breaking pseudo friend sent. I bolt upright in my seat when I hit pay dirt. Ethel jumps away from my hand and Gumbo, who is curled up by my leg, leaps up with a startled snort. Mr. Jingles and Lucy-fur barely raise their heads.
“Sweet Mary!” I exclaim. I reach with anxious fingers for my phone, which is still tucked into the back pocket of my jeans. I punch Liam’s number and listen as it rings. When he picks up, I don’t even give him time to speak.
“You are never going to believe what I found. Get over here as fast as you can get that monstrosity of a truck into gear.”
I hang up.
I don’t know why, but that makes me smile. He’s hung up on me when he’s finished more times than I can count. And Felonious does it, too. It seems only fair that I get in on some of that action.
Turns out, it feels kinda cool.
It doesn’t take Liam v
ery long to arrive. He doesn’t bother knocking, which is a first. I hear the throaty rumble of his truck engine shut off and then a few seconds later the door flies open. He’s wearing his thundercloud.
“What’d you hang up on me for?”
I giggle. I can’t help it. This was totally worth it. “Didn’t have anything else to say. Plus, it made me feel powerful.”
“Powerful?” he says as he walks farther into the room. He stops beside the couch, roughly where Ethel was before he walked in and scared her into the kitchen, and stares down at me. “You need help.”
“Probably,” I confess, unperturbed. “Look.”
I show him the phone numbers that I found on Ari’s records, the two that stood out as suspicious.
“Whose are these?”
“I don’t know. I thought you might recognize one of them.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Maybe we can have Clive look into them.”
“That’ll take forever. I think you should call She Who Shall Not Be Named.”
“Why don’t you ask her? You two are getting so close.” He’s all but cackling. He’s just holding it in. I can see it in the trembling of his lips.
“You’re a terrible person. That girl tortures me and you’re fine with it.”
“I didn’t say I was fine with it, but it is entertaining.”
I glare at Liam. “Fine. I’ll call her, but you look at this.”
I thrust my laptop at him. He takes it and scans the letter as I dial Felonious. I watch his face as I listen to the phone ring.
His brow drops lower.
His lips get thinner.
His clouds get darker.
“Felonious, Liam needs a favor,” I say when my twisted teenaged frenemy answers.
Liam emits a low, steady growl that Cujo would be jealous of. I try not to laugh.
I give Felonious the two numbers we need information on. Almost immediately, I hear the faint sound of fingers clacking on a keyboard as she types. “Both are registered to a shell corporation. Looks like someone named Ari Jameson is vaguely connected. If you need anything more than that, it’ll take me a few more minutes to trace it back to an individual.”
“That’s okay. That tells me a lot, actually. Thanks, Felonious.”