Julie Lindsey - Shadow Point Deputy

The only vehicle in the driveway was another old compact.

“No.” Rita pulled up to the curb and stared. Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering her calls? Again, the scary images beat a path through her mind. Please , she sent up a silent prayer, don’t let anything happen to my baby brother.

Her phone buzzed against her lap and she jumped.

Ryan’s name appeared on the screen beside a tiny envelope. He’d sent her a text message.

She released a happy sob and swiped the screen to life.

Taking exam. Can’t talk.

He was at school. She wiped her eyes and pulled in long, thankful breaths. Everything was fine. Ryan was safe. She was safe. All she had to do now was switch the vehicles and report everything she’d seen last night to Cole Garrett.

No problem.

The drive though the campus was steeped in nostalgia. Fall was in the air. Mums were in bloom. Even the leafy green trees had begun to change into their pretty fall uniforms. Rita had made memories to last a lifetime on those same streets not too long ago.

Students filled the corners near streetlamps, watching the lights, waiting to cross. Probably headed to class or on another adventure they’d miss dearly someday too soon. College had been Rita’s only taste of freedom before becoming the surrogate parent to a grieving teenage brother just two months after graduation.

The main lot for student commuters was nearly full. She circled twice before spotting her truck among a pack of even larger pickups. She pulled Ryan’s car into an empty spot several spaces away and tucked his keys under the floor mat. Much as she hated to interrupt him again, especially knowing he was trying to take an exam, she sent a text to let him know his car was there and her truck was off-limits for the day.

Your car is in the lot with my truck. DO NOT take my truck. I’ll be back for it. Meeting a friend.

She frowned at the little screen and sent a happier follow-up.

Good luck on your tests!

Rita pocketed the phone and kneaded her shaky hands, then fumbled Deputy Garrett’s card into her grip. The sooner she unloaded the truth about what she thought she’d seen last night, and the possible murder evidence from her bag, the sooner she’d feel like herself again.

She double-checked for anyone who looked as if they might be following her, then began the trek across the giant lot toward a busier portion of campus. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered, bringing the phone into view and tapping the numbers against her screen.

COLE LEFT HIS cruiser in the middle of the road beside West’s and jogged around a line of news vans and local reporters. Crime scene officials tramped the soggy ground near the body recovery site, and a woman in a county coroner’s office jacket picked through the area blocked off by yellow tape.

Cole had lost track of the fancy black car after leaving Rita Horn’s place, but something in his gut told him the vehicle was significant. The timing of its appearance and haste of its departure were undeniably suspect, and given the break-in, Cole sensed a connection. Maybe Rita had been holding back about who could’ve wrecked her place, and maybe that certain someone owned a late-model black sedan. His hands curled into fists at his sides. The idea of someone intending her harm knotted his muscles and tightened his jaw.

West caught Cole’s arrival and left the quarantined area with an expectant look. “Everything okay with the house? Was it a B and E or false alarm?”

“B and E,” Cole grouched. He rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders, attempting and failing to dislodge the mound of frustration piling there. “It was Rita Horn’s place.”

West rocked back on his heels with a grin. “That so?”

“Yeah. You know her?”

West smiled. “I believe I do. That’s the redhead from the courthouse?”

Cole worked his jaw, unimpressed that his older brother knew Rita existed. Not that he was in the market for a date. West already had a stunning wife, a toddler and a new baby on the way. And he wasn’t the sort to have a wandering eye. Still, the conspiratorial look on his face was starting to tick Cole off.

“How well do you know her?” He had three brothers, and they were all known for their ability to get women into bed with a wink and a smile.

“Are you kidding?” West cocked a hip and crossed his arms. “Isn’t she the one you used to talk about all the time?”

Cole shot his brother a droll look. “I mentioned her once , months ago, and I didn’t know her name. I’d hardly call that ‘all the time.’”

“Compared to the vast number of other women you never mention, once is a lot. Did you get her number?”

“Yeah. From Dispatch, but she didn’t answer.”

West barked a laugh and shook his head. “All right. If you’re here, then everything must be fine there. So let’s figure this one out.” West led the way back to the river where the fog hovered like an apparition over the swollen waters, muting the view of a busy college town across the way.

“We know the victim’s name was Roger Minsk.” West pulled a notebook from his coat pocket and flipped the pages.

“Never heard of him.”

“He hasn’t been in town long. According to county records, he bought a big house upriver this summer. The maid called the station to report him missing three days ago. I haven’t had time to follow up.” He furrowed his brow. “She said he was a businessman who traveled.”

Cole shook his head. “No one’s blaming this on you. He’s a grown man. With a maid.” His nose wrinkled as the information settled in. Not a lot of folks in Shadow Point kept maids, even if they could afford it. “Who does that?”

West dropped his attention back to the notepad. “Well, this guy, for starters. She didn’t have access to his calendar or contacts, so I wasn’t in a hurry to worry. I knocked on his door that night and again yesterday. No answer. He was on our list of things to look into if he didn’t show up by today. I was hoping he was on vacation.”

“Did the maid say anything else?”

“She said she cleans for Minsk twice a week and nothing had changed since the last time she’d been there. It didn’t look as if he’d slept in his bed the night before.”

“So we don’t know when he went missing, but we have a window.”

West nodded. “The medical examiner will get us a time of death. I’d say we know the cause.”

Right. The gunshot wound to the head was hard to miss. Cole turned back toward his cruiser. “I’ll visit the maid, see what I can find out about the victim, then report back. Maybe I can even get her to let me into his place. Two birds.”

“Yep.” West agreed. “Do it. I’ll be here if you need me. Don’t forget to check in. We don’t know who we’re looking for or what this is about, and I don’t like it.”

Cole waved a hand overhead, making good time across the empty field, a list of questions for the maid solidifying in his mind.

“Deputy?” West called from the growing distance between them.

“Yeah?” Cole pivoted on his next step, for a look back at his brother, still standing sentinel at the river. He lifted his chin in question.

“Do me a favor and check in on Miss Horn while you’re out. See if she needs anything.”

“Yep.”

West raised one arm in his direction. “Maybe dinner and a movie.”

Cole turned away with a smile. “I’m keeping it professional,” he called over one shoulder.

Not like West and his wife. They’d reunited last year after a decade apart. One minute, she was involved in a crime spree, and the next thing Cole knew, he was standing witness in a rented tuxedo as the two said their vows.