Lena Diaz - Conflicting Evidence

“I can carry my own...wait. What do you mean several days ? I have to do laundry, clean the house, work on the store’s books, and a hundred other things. I can’t put my life on hold.”

“Why not? Think of it as a vacation. Don’t worry about anything except helping me figure out where your brother might be hiding.”

“I don’t know what you were expecting but I can’t ignore my responsibilities. I have to be back at the store Sunday and Monday. Those are Joan’s days off. Melissa can’t run the store by herself. This is the busy summer tourist season. Besides, my customers expect fresh baked goods Sunday through Friday. If I don’t have new product in the display cases, I lose business. I’m still operating in the red, struggling to make this work as it is.”

“If money’s your worry, I can—”

“No. We’ve already had that conversation. I appreciate your generous offer, truly. But come early Sunday morning, I need to be in my own kitchen baking. Then I’m going to the shop.”

He set the bag back on the bed. “Unless your brother and the other escapees are either caught or known to be in an area far from here by Sunday, you’re not coming back. And you definitely aren’t going into town.”

“Colin—”

“Your brother showed up here once already. Odds are, he’ll try again. The reports my fellow marshals have been sharing with me indicate that all four men were spotted traveling together at their last verified sighting. One of them is a convicted murderer with ties to gangs. Until I know it’s safe, you aren’t coming back here. Period.”

Her throat went dry. Her brother was traveling with a convicted murderer? Brian wasn’t exactly street-smart. Even after years in prison, he still seemed like a scared, naive kid every time she visited him.

Please be careful. Don’t get yourself killed, Brian.

Since Colin was watching her, she forced a smile. “When you put it that way, I understand your concerns. I’ll need to check whether Joan and Melissa can take on additional shifts for a few days.” Not that she could afford the extra pay. And she didn’t know if her employees could change their schedules last minute. “Since my alibi was verified, it’s okay to call them, right?”

“Of course. Tomorrow.”

“Right.” The dark glass of her bedroom window clearly showed it was too late to call anyone tonight. “I’ll need to grab my baking supplies and take them to your place so I can bake things for the shop. I can ask Joan to come pick them up. Is that okay? Me using your kitchen?”

“You’re welcome to use my kitchen. But let’s head over there first and see if I already have what you need instead of hauling half your things over there.”

“Why can’t we just grab my stuff while we’re still here?”

He blew out a breath. “Because the crime scene unit is still collecting evidence. Allowing you to take clothes and toiletries is one thing. Hauling out pots and pans and who knows what else is completely different.” He motioned her toward the hallway and hefted her bag again.

The warrant. It all came down to that. She shook her head and headed down the hallway, Colin’s boots echoing against the hardwood behind her. Just inside the family room, she had to stop to let a tech pass by with a laptop in a clear plastic bag.

“Hey, wait. That’s mine. My business records are on that computer. I’ll need that to work on invoices tomorrow.” She reached for the bag. Colin pulled her against his side, nodding at the other man to continue out the propped-open front door.

“What are you doing?” She shook his arm off her shoulders.

“Keeping you from getting arrested for interfering with the execution of a search warrant. Come on. We need to get out of here.”

She mumbled beneath her breath just what she thought of the search warrant but dutifully started toward the front door. When she saw Officer Simmons lounging on her couch like a plant taking root, she stopped again. “Shouldn’t you be rifling through my underwear drawer or something?”

Simmons’s eyes widened.

Colin coughed, then cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he told Simmons.

“What are you apologizing to her for? Why is she—”

He took a firm grip on her arm and steered her out of the house, not slowing down until they were standing beside the open passenger door of his ridiculously tall pickup. White vans surrounded them, several parked right on the pitiful patch of weeds and dirt that used to be her mama’s front lawn.

She gasped when another tech passed her carrying a precious family photo album. “Hey! Give that back. What are you doing with—oh!”

Colin lifted her up and deposited her onto the passenger seat and then reached for the seat belt as if she was a toddler. She snatched it from him and clicked it into place.

“I can fasten my own seat belt. And I could have climbed up into this monster truck of yours without help.”

“No. You couldn’t. You’re so short you could pass for a hobbit.”

She gasped in outrage.

He shut the door with more force than was necessary.

She crossed her arms, jaw clenched as she watched the vultures hauling out more of her things. A few seconds later, Colin hopped up on the driver’s seat without a bit of trouble, making her resent him for his long legs. He tossed her bag onto the bench seat between them and sat there, as if waiting for something.

She clenched her jaw tighter, determined not to say another word.

Thunder rumbled overhead. In the distance, a flash of lightning lit up the sky for a few brief seconds. Yet another summer storm was moving into the area.

“I hope the rain turns the road into a river and those stupid vans slide into a ditch,” she grumbled.

“There it is.” He sounded almost cheerful as he started the engine. “ Now we can go.”

She crossed her arms. “You think you know me so well.”

The almost smile that had accompanied his announcement faded and once again the sullen stranger took his place. “No. I don’t think I know you at all. Not anymore, if I ever did.”

His words were like a punch in the gut, reminding her of just how much water had passed beneath the bridge since they’d last been together.

He backed out of the driveway, the wheels kicking up gravel when he headed up the road.

Up.

Not down.

Unfamiliar terrain passed by her window, what little she could see in the moonlight. When she’d lived here before, this road had dead-ended just past her house. She hadn’t realized since coming back that it continued around the mountain.

“Is this a shortcut?” she asked.

“No.” He rounded a curve, the grade getting steeper as they continued higher.

“Colin, where...” White wood fencing appeared off to their left, illuminated by spotlights and marching across the fields as far as she could see. Another curve revealed even more landscape lights, on either side of a long, paved driveway. And at the end sat a huge white two-story farmhouse with an enormous wraparound porch, complete with a porch swing. She smiled sadly at the swing. She’d always wanted one but never had one growing up. Her dad had said their porch was too small.

“Beautiful house. Adore the swing,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Is this where we’re going?”

He nodded.

“Who lives there? Another police officer? You’re going to have someone else ask me questions about Brian?”

He shook his head and turned up the drive. When they reached the garage, he pressed a button in the roof of his truck and the door began to rise.

“This is your house?”

“I built it a handful of years ago.”

He pulled into the three-car garage. An expensive-looking black sports car of some type was parked two spaces away.