Her Grave Secrets (Rogue River #3)(22)

“You must have heard some theories floating around. What’s the word on the street about those deaths?”

Ronnie looked away. “I don’t know, man. But he ain’t local. They say he’s from out of town and takes no prisoners. He’s moving in where he hasn’t been invited.”

Stevie reached out for Zane’s hand. “Could he be talking about the person who gave my father the C-22?” She couldn’t pull her gaze from the screen. Ronnie Sinclair had just suggested that someone had killed drug dealers at the coast to eliminate the competition. Would that same person kill a law enforcement officer? An officer who might know too much or be getting too close?

She pressed a hand against her lips, her mind spinning. Had her father been investigating the new drug?

“It’s something to look into,” Zane stated, his focus intent on the young man on the monitor.

Seth leaned toward Ronnie. “Have you seen this alleged new dealer? Or has someone else? To say he’s from out of town means that no one recognized him at some point. What’s he look like?”

“I ain’t seen nobody.”

Seth sat back in his chair and tossed his pen on the table. “You asked me to help you by busting a crooked dealer, but you can’t tell me anything about him? How am I supposed to find him?”

“Aren’t all drug dealers crooked?” Zane asked, his mouth curling up at one corner.

Stevie tried to smile at his joke, but her brain was still in overdrive trying to link this disgruntled dealer’s news to her father’s death.

“He can’t be talking about Roy as the newcomer,” Stevie stated. “Those two drug dealers at the coast died recently, and Roy was missing for two months. There’s a good chance the same person who killed JD Hearne yesterday also killed Roy, since they were both murdered in very similar ways.”

“I wonder if our discovery of Roy’s murder has put some heat on someone.” Zane scratched his chin. “And in turn led to JD’s death. Is someone trying to clean house and control the C-22 market?”

“But why kill my father?”

Zane looked grim. “He’s a cop. In many people’s books, that’s reason enough. You know that as well as I do.”

She swallowed. He was right. She’d seen it all the time in LA. Simply wearing her uniform was enough to stir up the hate and anger. But she’d nearly forgotten about it during her time in Solitude. People treated her with respect there. “I see so little of it in Solitude.”

“There’s enough,” said Zane. “It’s enough to make me worry about you every time you leave on a call.”

She squeezed his hand. “Ditto.”

They listened for a few more minutes. Seth finally agreed to a smoke break for Ronnie and stepped out of the room to talk to Stevie and Zane while a uniform took Ronnie outside for his nicotine hit.

“I think I’ve gotten all I’m going to get out of him. Anything I missed?” Seth asked.

Stevie shook her head. “This is a drug territory war. It’s been in the works for a few months, but they’ve moved slowly. Now people are noticing. Dead bodies get everyone’s attention.”

Seth took a deep breath. “I think you’re right. And I suspect your father was one of the first to get close to the source of the drug and was eliminated. I know he kept those journals. Did you see any references to this?”

“I read them specifically looking for insight into problems that Solitude was facing,” said Zane. “I had just been placed in his chair and I needed all the help I could get. Nothing about drugs was mentioned. Although his concern for Roy makes sense now. Maybe following up with Roy is what got him killed. He may have touched a nerve somewhere.”

“But who is the nerve?” Stevie asked.

“We’re going to find out,” promised Zane.





CHAPTER ELEVEN





Bruce had started the ribs and chicken in the smoker early that morning at Patsy’s house, but Zane had taken over by midafternoon. He’d been standing at the smoker for over an hour, serving up slabs of beef, pork, and chicken, and getting doused in what Stevie claimed was her favorite men’s cologne: barbecue smoke. Twice she’d come by and buried her nose in his T-shirt, inhaling deeply.

James popped the tops off two beers and handed Zane one of the bottles. “Go get some food.”

Zane passed the tongs to James, officially handing off his smoker monitoring duties at Patsy’s barbecue. “I’ve been grabbing pieces here and there. Wanted to make sure it was good, you know.” Zane’s stomach was stuffed from his snacking. But he might have room for apple pie. Stevie was in charge of the dessert table, dishing up slice after slice of homemade pie and cake. Zane scanned Patsy’s big backyard. Two-thirds of the town was present. And the other third was on its way.

The coordination of the event impressed him. Patsy knew how to delegate and how not to step on anyone’s toes. There’d been a bit of a problem when two women had shown up with the same “family secret” spice cake, but Patsy had handled it deftly, tasting both cakes and proclaiming that they were distinctly different but both delicious.

Zane had grabbed a bite of each and had been unable to tell them apart, but had agreed with the delicious part.