Colton 911: Deadly Texas Reunion (Book 4)

by Beth Cornelison

  She squinted against the autumn sun as Nolan led her outside, his hand at her back. “Nolan, we left too easily. With a little more cajoling, he might have given us the last piece of the story.”

  He pursed his lips and shook his head. “No. He was done. I recognized the moment he shut down. That moment when a suspect realizes he’s said too much and buttons up.”

  Summer stopped walking, shooting Nolan a sharp look. “You think he’s a suspect?”

  “No. He’s a philandering jerk, but I don’t make him for a killer.” His brow dented in thought. “He’s terrified of something. Of someone.”

  “Right. The person who killed Patrice,” she supplied. “So...”

  He twisted his mouth and drummed his fingers on his thigh. “Let’s head back to your office and lay out all the pieces. We’re close. I can feel it.”

  He opened the passenger door of his Jeep for her, and she nodded. “I agree. It’s whiteboard time.”

  Chapter 17

  Yossi was napping in a pool of sunshine on her desk when they returned to her office. Summer’s gut tightened and her chest ached remembering what she’d done recently on that desk. With Nolan. Who wasn’t staying in Whisperwood. Who didn’t love her and had called their lovemaking a mistake.

  She shoved aside the painful memory and drew a careful breath. If she was going to live and work out of this space for months to come, she’d have to get over the reminder of what would never be that her desk represented. Because she didn’t have the funds to buy a new, unspoiled desk.

  Calling to Yossi, she enticed him to vacate her workspace by opening a can of his favorite flavor of food and clinking a spoon against his bowl. “C’mon, Yossi boy. Dinner!”

  Her feline hopped down and trotted quickly over to eat, purring his thanks. She longed to cradle her furry friend and curl up on her bed for a good sulk, but responsibility called. With a scratch on Yossi’s cheek, she returned to the office, where Nolan had already set up the whiteboard and was jotting comments and Venn diagrams.

  For a moment, she just stood in the door to the kitchenette and studied her longtime friend and partner on this case. Nolan’s lean body and efficient movement as he wrote new facts on the board and folded his arms to study the flowcharts he’d created was a thing of beauty. Controlled power. Like a panther, patiently watching his prey.

  Her lover. Once. One precious time that she’d have to cherish and hold quietly in her heart the rest of her life.

  Closing her eyes, she sighed. Stop it. Now is not the time.

  She and Nolan had important work to do. Dawson had given them little, but his one admission cast a fresh and meaningful light on the whole investigation. Was Nolan on the same wavelength she was? She would soon see.

  Summer straightened her desk where Yossi had nudged files and her cracked stapler out of his way to nap. Reaching in her purse, she took out her notebook and flipped to the most recent pages. “All right, add Dawson’s name and a line linking him to Patrice. Label it ‘client-slash-affair.’”

  Nolan stepped aside to show her he had already added these pieces to the board.

  “Good. Then under the facts column, add the bit about Patrice seeing—” she consulted her notes to be completely accurate with how Dawson had worded his claim “—evidence of illegal activity.”

  “Right.” Nolan faced the board as he made the note.

  She drummed her fingers on the desktop, concentrating on the tantalizing tidbit and trying not to let the view of her partner’s tush and broad shoulders distract her. “He didn’t specifically mention Kain’s garage, so what she saw could be anything from jaywalking to treason.”

  Nolan pursed his lips, his brow furrowing. “I think Occam’s razor applies here.” He capped the marker and turned toward her, his eyes intense. “The easiest and most obvious explanation is likely our answer.”

  She lifted a hand, inviting him to continue. “And which obvious answer do you see? There are lots of options, as I see it. We have a serial killer who confessed on his deathbed. A nurse, likely paid off to kill her patient, who has since disappeared. A college classmate with an unrequited love who was last to see Patrice alive. An overprotective father who didn’t even know his daughter was friends with boys from her class, let alone that she was having an affair with a married man.”

  Nolan tapped the whiteboard pen against his palm. “All serious stuff. But none of those feel right as motive in this case. I’m talking about this.” He used the pen to point to the name Melody.

  “Tom Kain’s car killed her?” she said with a wry grin, but a prickle at the base of her neck told her they were on the same track.

  Nolan gave her a withering glance before turning back to the chart he’d drawn. “Think about it, Summer. Horace Corgan thought Melody was important enough that he gasped the name on his dying breath.”

  Summer flipped back in her notebook to the pages related to their interview with Tom Kain and later with Kain’s mechanic. She tapped the page with her fingernail and read for a moment before looking up at Nolan. “The mechanic at Kain’s Auto Shop, Walter, said Patrice was snooping around Melody while waiting for her interview with Kain. He said she gasped, then quickly left the shop without ever talking to Kain.”

  Nolan twisted his mouth. “That’s right. So could the something Kenneth Dawson said she was scared about having seen be the same something that frightened her away from the auto shop?”

  Summer sat taller. “Certainly makes sense.” Summer followed that train of thought to the next logical station. “And after Kain lied about not knowing who or what Melody was, Walter was anxious to tell us about the car. But not where Kain’s security cameras could see us talking to him.”

  “Security cameras...that means...” Nolan turned back to the board, his face lighting with discovery.

  “Kain likely saw Patrice snooping around Melody when he reviewed the security tapes. Walter told us Kain did that every night, and that was why he was so careful to meet us out of camera range.”

  Nolan rocked back on his heels and scratched his chin. “If the rumors about Kain being a drug dealer and distributor are true, he would definitely be interested in keeping a close eye on his shop.”

  “And if Patrice found something incriminating when she was snooping around Melody, and Kain knew it...” A chill sluiced through Summer. Nolan met her eyes, his expression echoing the conclusion she’d reached. “He could have killed her to keep her quiet about whatever she’d seen. A stash of drugs, perhaps? Or money?”

  “It makes sense. But...” He frowned and began pacing.

  Finished with his dinner, Yossi returned to the office and jumped up to finish his sunbath on her desk.

  “Not now, Yos.” Summer lifted her cat off the notebook where he’d sprawled. “We’re about to crack this case. Go sleep on the bed. You can even get on my pillow. Special privilege today if you let me work.”

  Yossi blinked unhappily at her, and Summer tried to ignore the guilt trip from the feline as she flipped through the pages of her notes to find anything else that might support their working theory. “Could Horace Corgan have known about Kain? Not just damning evidence about Kain’s drug business and whatever the link is with Melody, but even suspecting that Kain killed Patrice?” Summer’s heart raced as she saw all the pieces begin to fall into place. “Kain could have paid Jane Oliver, the nurse, to kill Horace Corgan if he talked about Melody or gave up anything about his drug deals. That could be the big haul she bragged about coming into.”

  Nolan pulled out his phone and started dialing.

  “Wait,” she said, rising from her chair and crossing the room to him. “Who are you calling?”

  “Forrest. It’s past time we bring him and Chief Thompson in on what we’ve learned.”

  “Hang on.” She grabbed his arm and pulled his phone away from his ear. “This is my case, remember? I
’m not ready to hand it off to the police!”

  “Summer, if we’re right about Kain, we owe it to Patrice and her family to see him arrested as soon as possible. Besides, I promised Dawson I’d arrange protection for him until we’re sure any threat to him has passed.”

  “I know you did, but—” Firming her resolve, she raised her chin. “Let’s do one last thing to confirm our suspicions first.”

  Nolan’s brow dipped. “What’s that?”

  “I want to take a closer look at Melody for ourselves.”

  “How do you plan to do that?” Nolan braced his hands on his hips and arched one eyebrow. “Kain has cameras everywhere, remember? He’ll be on to us within hours, assuming we can even get at the Benz. It’s not like he leaves it parked in front of the shop.”

  “But Melody isn’t always at the shop. He drives it to town council meetings, remember?”

  “But the council just met a few nights ago. I doubt they’ll meet again for at least a couple weeks. Are you really willing to wait that long to get a look at Melody?”

  Summer folded her arms over her chest and prowled the confined space in her office. “Maybe we could arrange for there to be an emergency meeting called. I’m sure your family knows the mayor. You could ask Hays or one of your younger cousins to ask that a special meeting be set up for tonight.”

  “Under what guise?”

  “Well, they could say it was about public safety, which wouldn’t be too far from the truth if it means we catch a murderer who’s currently walking the streets.” She chewed her bottom lip as she paced. “Or a just-discovered financial error that’s created a crisis in funding daily operations. Money matters always bring people to the table. Once the council is gathered and they waste some time taking roll and covering minutes from the last meeting, yada yada, they announce the error has been corrected or it was a false alarm and apologize, but the ruse buys us enough time to check out Kain’s car.”

  “Without a warrant, searching his car is illegal,” he reminded her.

  She growled her frustration. “If you’re worried about getting yourself in hot water with the FBI, then you don’t have to come. I’ll go alone, and I’ll be... ‘Oh, my! What a lovely car,’ said the private citizen as she peeks in the windows and kicks the tires.”

  Nolan scowled. “Summer...”

  “If we see anything questionable, we’ll let Chief Thompson know, and the police can get the necessary warrants.”

  Nolan continued to glare at her, his disapproval plain.

  Her shoulders dropped, and she spread her arms. “What else can I do? If we’re right, and whatever Patrice saw is the key to this investigation, I have to get a look at that car!”

  “And what if you see whatever Patrice saw, and it gets you killed, too?”

  A shiver raced through her. Would she be poking a rattlesnake by snooping around Kain’s prized car? Probably. But could she ignore the mounting evidence that Tom Kain was linked to Patrice’s killing? She owed it to Patrice to get justice for her murder. She wanted closure for Atticus. Resolution for her first big case. She couldn’t let fear of reprisals stop her. Reckless? Maybe. But making love to Nolan on her desk and again in her bed had been reckless, too, and she wouldn’t trade that memory for the world, no matter how much his rejection stung.

  Fisting her hands at her sides, she gave Nolan a stubborn stare. “I’m going to get a look at Kain’s car, one way or another. Now are you going to help me or aren’t you?”

  Chapter 18

  Nolan couldn’t begin to count the ways that what he was doing was wrong. How in the hell had he let Summer talk him into this? And how had she sweet-talked Hays and the mayor into calling this emergency meeting of the Whisperwood town council? Summer had some mad persuasion skills.

  From the time as kids when he’d joined Summer in using the worn-out rope swing at Gilbert Pond—a poor choice that earned him a broken arm—to his most recent experience of making love to her in her office, he, too, had a long history of conceding to Summer against his better judgment. Because he wanted to make her happy. Because deep down, he admired her sense of adventure and devil-may-care attitude. Because she had a mulish streak a mile wide, and he had to go with her to protect her.

  At least he’d stood his ground on alerting Forrest at the last minute to their plan—a plan Forrest was every bit as displeased with as Nolan. “Don’t make me have to come up there and arrest you two for trespassing or B and E.”

  Nolan had explained Summer’s determination and added, “Just be on standby. We may need a search warrant by the end of the night.” He’d hung up before Forrest could say more. He really kind of hoped Forrest and Chief Thompson arrived at the municipal parking lot in time to stop Summer. It might save her life.

  Clenching his jaw to suppress the gnawing sense of impending doom, he tucked his personal handgun in the waist of his jeans and quietly closed the door of his Jeep. Flashlight in hand, he followed Summer across the city hall parking lot to examine Melody. The black Mercedes S-Class was parked in a dark corner of the small lot, at a selfish angle, such that Kain took up three valuable parking spaces, thus ensuring no one parked close to him and dinged his precious vehicle.

  He grabbed the back of Summer’s T-shirt, bringing her up short as she set off across the blacktop. “Easy, partner. Before we barge over there and start snooping, we need to case the area and make sure we aren’t being watched.”

  Her eyes went up toward the halogen security lights, where a camera had been mounted. “Wrong angle. I don’t think we’ll be in the shot.” She snorted derisively. “Probably why Kain parks there, huh?”

  He agreed with a low grunt and scanned the area. “Security cameras are only one set of eyes. Kain could have his own.” Nolan attempted to appear nonchalant as he lollygagged at the fender of his Jeep. He pulled out his phone and pretended to be texting while his gaze swept from shadowy landscaping bushes to the dark front seats of the other parked vehicles.

  Summer hung back, but he could tell by the energy vibrating from her whole body that she was champing at the bit, eager to prove her theory come hell or high water.

  “Remember, Tadpole, let the evidence lead you. Don’t try to fit the evidence to match your assumption. If Kain’s—”

  His phone startled him, vibrating with an incoming phone call. Had he not already been holding his cell phone, he might have ignored the buzz. But the screen lit with his lawyer’s name and number. Nolan only debated a couple of seconds before answering the call. Summer gave him a frustrated, impatient look when he tapped the screen and said, “Hi, Stu. This isn’t a good time. Let me call you later.”

  He hung up without letting his lawyer respond. He didn’t need a distraction now, not if he was going to keep Summer safe.

  He caught the flash of curiosity and wariness that crossed her face. His own emotions, given their risky mission tonight, were already in tumult. Summer’s questions would have to wait until he got his own answers. Later. After this fool’s errand was over and they were back at her office.

  He poked the phone into his back pocket, his head a bit muzzy.

  “You’re not going to talk to your lawyer?” Summer asked, her tone quiet.

  “Not right now. One nightmare at a time, huh? For the moment, I want to concentrate on Kain and what we need to do tonight.”

  He saw a shiver chase through her, and she jerked a nod. “Right.” She set out across the blacktop again. “Come on. The mayor can only stall in this fake meeting for so long.”

  “Summer—”

  But she didn’t stop, didn’t slow down until she was within a car’s length of the black Benz. Pulling a mini flashlight from her jacket pocket, she switched it on and aimed the beam at the wheels of Kain’s sedan. Checking over her shoulder, she hurried to the far side of the Mercedes, away from town hall, and crouched to examine the hubcaps.

 
; His gut tightening, Nolan cast another uneasy glance around the front walk to city hall and the dim parking area. “Make this quick, Summer. Someone could come by any minute.”

  “Keep your pants on, Bullfrog. I’m not leaving until I find whatever Patrice saw.” She angled the light under Melody’s frame. “You look inside and under the hood. I want to come away with something incriminating.”

  He groaned. “That’s what I was talking about earlier, Summer. Don’t assume there’s something here and make snap judgments. Don’t forget, the police have searched Kain’s properties multiple times and never found anything.” He sidled up to the Mercedes and shined his flashlight in the front seat. The back seat. Along the dashboard.

  “But Patrice found something. Something that got her killed. I just know she did. I feel—” Her gasp cut her off.

  “Summer? What?”

  “I got the hubcap loose. Help me with it.”

  “Jeez, Summer. You’re going to get us thrown in jail.” He imagined one of Kain’s goons showing up, and his stomach pitched. “Or worse.” But he crouched beside her and helped pry the ornate, custom hubcap from its clips with the flat blade of a screwdriver.

  “A rather fancy hubcap. That’s a lot of shiny chrome.” Summer took the piece from him as it popped off.

  “Custom order, I’d wager. Check it thoroughly to see just how customized it is.” While Summer scrutinized the hubcap, Nolan lay on his back and scrunched as close to the Mercedes as he could, shining his flashlight into the wheel well.

  Nothing immediately stood out as suspicious, and he was about to scoot out from under the frame when he realized part of the wheel well wall was cleaner than the rest. Or rather, the standard grime had been smudged and, upon more careful inspection, fingerprints were recognizable.

  “Summer, hand me the screwdriver.”

  She did, and using the screwdriver so he wouldn’t leave his own fingerprints, he tapped on the smudged area, pushed on it. The spot buckled, revealing edges to a false wall. Pulse racing, he wedged the screwdriver blade under the loose piece to pry it free. He shined his flashlight into the dark wheel well. Behind the removable hard plastic barrier was a small enclosed space.