Death and Her Devotion (Rogue Vows #1)(16)

“I’m already avoiding the news. Carter told me three young women have come forward claiming to be Chase’s latest girlfriend. Cyndee wasn’t the only one.”

“Everyone wants a piece of him, even though he’s dead.”

“So far Brandon is the only person who deserves what Chase left behind,” said Zane.

“I think you’ll add Jenny to that list once you meet her.”

“Are you sure she didn’t pull one over on you?”

“I’m ninety-nine percent certain. She’s first on my list for interviews tomorrow,” promised Stevie. “I won’t be made a fool again.”





CHAPTER SIX


“Ralph is having problems out at Crying Indian,” Sheila announced the moment Zane stepped in the office the next morning.

“What kind of problems?” he asked as he hung up his hat. He eyed Sheila. Her orange lipstick perfectly matched her eye shadow, and it was hard to not stare. She didn’t look exhausted at all; in fact, she seemed to have absorbed energy from the disturbances in Solitude. His day was off to a rocky start: a car with California license plates had parked in his regular spot that morning, and he’d had to park two blocks away.

An insane distance for his sleepy town.

That he’d started off his morning on the wrong foot was an understatement.

“Ralph says people are pitching tents along the highway to the campground because it’s full. Hundreds of people showed up overnight and slept in their cars. They’ve built some temporary shrine not far from the murder site and are filling it with flowers and stuffed animals. And whatever the campground uses for a septic system has been overwhelmed. Everything is backing up and Ralph says the mourners have resorted to ‘defiling nature.’”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.” The orange lips twitched.

“Hunt down more porta-potties and get them out there. Make certain the company knows they need to be serviced constantly.”

Sheila made a note. “And I’ve had a dozen phone calls from news outlets requesting interviews with you—”

“Lord no.”

She looked at him over her reading glasses. “I know. I’ve put everyone off by saying there will be another press conference at four today. I’ve asked Kenny and Carter to spread the word too.”

Zane exhaled. “Thank you.” It would be enough time to get his ducks in a row. “Is Stevie here yet?” Someone had parked in her usual space too.

“Not yet.”

The door opened and Toby Black stumbled in. Zane wondered if all Chase’s friends had dark circles below their eyes. Toby’s hair stuck up every which way, and it appeared he’d slept in his shirt. He looked a lot younger than his twenty-five years.

“Morning, Chief.” The young man gripped a bag from the grocery store’s deli counter. Judging by the grease stains soaking the brown paper, Toby had loaded up on Nell’s sausage breakfast sandwiches.

Zane’s stomach growled. “How were your sleeping accommodations in the real estate office last night?” he asked.

Toby shrugged. “It’s fine. Beats camping in my book. I was never a fan of sleeping outdoors.” He blinked at Zane. “None of us slept well. It sounded like people were walking around the building and trying to look in the windows.”

Zane felt bad for the group. “Sorry. There’s a lot of strangers in town right now, and I think everyone is curious about what happened to your friend.” He frowned. “Do people know you guys were with Chase? Has anyone said anything to you or asked questions?”

“I don’t think so. We told the dude at the campground . . . Ralph . . . that we were leaving town.”

“So maybe it was just people with nothing to do wandering around your place. I noticed a lot of roaming strangers when I drove in this morning.” He wanted to call them tourists, but that didn’t feel quite right. Maybe followers . . . or groupies.

“We’re glad you were able to find us a place,” said Toby. “I’m not complaining,” he added quickly.

“Did you need something?” Zane asked, wondering why he’d stopped in.

“Ummm . . . Josh sent me.” Toby looked at his shoes. “He wanted an update on the investigation and wondered when we could leave.”

Why didn’t Josh call me? Zane had the feeling Josh often used his younger brother as his personal messenger boy. And food delivery service.

“I don’t have anything to report,” answered Zane. “I should have autopsy results this morning.”

“Who’s that?” Sheila snapped, looking out the window. “What’s that guy doing?”

Zane moved to a window, Toby right behind him. Across the street a man in a suit was gathering the reporters and groupies around him. He’d hopped up on a tree stump and was waving his arms, yelling at the slowly growing crowd. Cameras pointed at him, and he ran a hand over his perfect hair.

“Oh no,” groaned Toby.

“You know him?” Zane asked.

“That’s Aiden Tierney. He’s Chase’s agent.”

“What’s he doing?” Sheila asked. “What could he be saying to them?”

“Most likely a bunch of bull,” said Toby. “He’s a good agent, but he can talk for an hour about nothing at all.” He ducked his head, his face reddening. “Don’t tell him I said that.”