Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(84)

Heath leaned forward, and she stopped talking. Time to listen to her lawyer.

“Fingerprints?” Heath asked, peering closely at the knife through the plastic.

“None.”

Heath glanced up. “So you’re telling me she was smart enough to wipe her prints, but stupid enough to stash the murder weapon in her own box of shoes? Seriously?”

Norton shrugged. “Criminals rarely make sense to me. Maybe she wanted to use it again, or perhaps she gets off on seeing the blood. I don’t know or care.”

Heath shook his head. “You need more than this.”

“Actually, I don’t.” Norton patted his belly. “But I do have more. Guess what, Ms. Remington? I have a witness who saw you at the motel during the time of the murder. The kid at the front desk wasn’t completely asleep when you snuck by right before the time of Julie’s death.” He pushed back from the desk and stood. “Time for a lineup, lady.”





Chapter





30




Ryker barely kept his temper in check as he clicked off the call from Heath.

“How bad?” Denver asked from across Ryker’s desk.

“Bad. Somebody planted the murder weapon in her house, and she just got picked out of a lineup by the front-desk kid of the motel. Heath is posting her bail now, and they should be here within an hour. We might have to run sooner rather than later.” Ryker shot a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

“Greg will run in the opposite direction.” Denver scratched his scruffy jaw.

“Fuck.” Ryker glanced at the ceiling. “No, he won’t. I’m more worried he’ll try to break into the police station and steal any evidence against her. Or kidnap her and take her to a safe place. The kid adores her.” At the moment, Grams was making cookies in an effort to keep Greg close and eating.

Ryker’s phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen before frowning. What now? Hell, he didn’t have time to talk to the lawyer. “Hi, Brock. I don’t have any news on Jay Pentley’s case.” Except that Zara had been arrested, damn it.

“I’m at the office, and I think I have a lead on Pentley’s case. Zara’s being set up. Can you drop by?” Brock asked.

Ryker sat up. “What kind of lead? Did you hear about Zara?”

“Yeah, and that’s partly why I’m calling. I have some information here, and I need help going through it. It’s odd, and, well…” Brock ruffled papers. “There’s a pattern here, but I might be just trying to help Zara. I’m not sure.”

Ryker stood. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He’d go insane just sitting and waiting for Zara to return and the weather to clear, so he might as well figure things out. He clicked off. “I’ll be at the law firm,” he told Denver. In fact, they hadn’t had a chance to grab Zara’s things from her office, so he’d do that for her, too. One less thing for her to worry about. “Call me the second Zara and Heath get back.”

“Yep.”

“Would you go check on Greg and Grams?” Ryker asked.

“Yep.” Denver rubbed his bloodshot eyes and stood, then gracefully strode from the room.

Ryker watched him go, unease settling in his gut. Denver hadn’t been right since they’d relocated, and maybe the best thing was to force him back to Alaska to face his past. Something to think about another day, however. Ryker jogged through the office and down to his truck, rushing into the swirling snowstorm and fairly empty streets.

He slid through several intersections before reaching the law firm and parking out front. The snow battled him as he made his way to the main entrance and shoved inside, stomping up the stairs to the office.

Mrs. Thomson smiled at him. “Go on back to the smaller conference room, Ryker. Brock is waiting for you.” She peered through her thick glasses. “Tell him to take a break and grab some lunch, would you? That boy worked all through the night and hasn’t eaten.”

Ryker nodded and hustled past her, down the hallway, and to the small conference room.

Papers littered the table, and piles of them were perched on the chairs. Brock hunched over more papers, mumbling to himself.

Ryker shut the door behind himself. “Dude. You need sleep.”

Brock looked up, his eyes twice as bloodshot as Denver’s had been. “Somebody is pulling the strings here, and I don’t like it. Have a seat.”

Ryker’s chest compressed. He lifted a bunch of papers off the nearest seat and set them on the floor. “What’s going on?”

Brock scrambled through a stack and shoved a piece toward Ryker. “At first, I thought Jay Pentley was somehow involved in his wife’s death, but now I think there’s somebody else pulling all the strings.”

“Why?” Ryker asked, taking the paper.

“Because after the break-in the other night, I put men on Zara’s place. We keep a rotating security firm on retainer.” Brock looked around and grabbed a coffee cup, frowning into its empty bottom.

Ryker stilled. “You had a detail on her place?”

“Yeah.” Brock set the empty cup down and grimaced. “I figured the break-in might have something to do with one of our cases, most likely the Pentley divorce, and I wanted to know what was going on. Plus, if Zara stayed there, I wanted her protected.”