Finlay Donovan Is Killing It(Finlay Donovan #1)(83)

Peter handed Nick a piece of paper.

Nick’s brow pulled down, his posture becoming rigid as he read the report. He frowned, uncharacteristically quiet as he folded it and slipped it into the breast pocket of his coat.

“Wait,” I said, curious about the reason for Peter’s excitement. “What did it say?”

Nick turned me by the shoulders and directed me with a firm hand toward the door. “Thanks, Pete. Gotta go.”

Pete’s smile crumbled. “Wait, you’re leaving? But there’s more.”

“I’ll call you later,” Nick said over his shoulder.

“Bye, Finlay!” Pete called after me. “It was great meeting you!”

I didn’t get a chance to reply. Nick applied a steady pressure to the small of my back, ushering me to the head of the stairs.

“Where are we going?” I clutched the rail to keep from slipping on my heels.

“I’m taking you home. There’s something I need to check out.” His gait was tense and quick, his low voice rumbling like a revved engine.

“What did you find?” Whatever it was, it must have been important. “Why won’t you tell me?” I asked, chasing him down the stairs.

“Because I’ve already told you too much.”

I stopped in the middle of the lobby, arms crossed stubbornly over my chest as he barreled toward the glass doors, his car keys already in his hand. “If this is because of last night, I’m fine. You don’t have to protect me from Feliks or his goons.”

He doubled back and took me firmly by the elbow, hauling me toward the door. “You weren’t fine. I’m taking you home. I made a mistake. I don’t want you anywhere near this investigation.”

I planted my heels, pulling him up short. “If you didn’t want me involved, you wouldn’t have brought me along.” A muscle tensed in his cheek. “You found something in that report you don’t want me to know. Didn’t you?”

He raked a hand through his dark hair and swore under his breath.

“You’ve told me everything else about this case. Why not this? Why not now?”

He pressed a finger to his lips, casting anxious looks around us. “Because I thought we could help each other,” he said, struggling to keep his voice down. “You wanted proof that Theresa is unfit for custody, and I wanted to arrest her. But this isn’t just about Theresa anymore.”

“You’re right. It’s not. And after what Feliks tried to do to me last night, I think I deserve to know.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and loosed a heavy sigh. “It’s better if you don’t.”

“You can’t shut me out! You said it yourself, I already know too—”

“Steven’s farm,” he surrendered in a low voice. “The grass on Feliks’s Lincoln came from your ex-husband’s farm.”

I fell back a step. Of all the things I’d expected to hear, this wasn’t it.

“There has to have been some mistake,” I said through a tight throat. “Theresa would never have been stupid enough to take her fling to Steven’s farm.”

“You’re assuming they were there for personal reasons. What if it was business?”

Ms. Hall and I share a purely professional relationship.

That’s what Feliks had said. But that made even less sense. “Steven just bought the farm last year. It’s not for sale.”

“If it isn’t for sale, what was Feliks doing there?”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

“Now do you understand why I didn’t want to tell you? If I can prove Feliks was conducting illicit business on Steven’s farm, and if a lawyer can prove you or your kids stand to benefit in any way from that business, then your involvement compromises the whole case.”

“My involvement already compromises your case,” I argued. “No one has to know.”

“Feliks knows, and he can use it against me in court.”

“He can’t prove I know anything about your case. I told him we were romantically involved.”

There was a challenge in the dark shine of Nick’s eyes. “Are you going to tell your ex the same thing when we roll up on his farm?”

So that’s where Nick was going. To the farm. I could either let him drop me off at home and spend the rest of the day wondering what he’d found there, or I could make him take me along.

“He won’t be there,” I said, my legs a little unsteady at the thought. “He’s got the kids.”

Nick chewed his lip as he studied me, his knuckles white on his hips. He pitched his voice low. “I can do this without you, Finlay. The less you know, the better off we both are.”

I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, him or me. The only thing I knew for certain was that Harris Mickler was buried on that farm, and I couldn’t let Nick find him. “I’m coming with you.” I snatched the keys from his hand before he could object. If Nick was going anywhere near that farm, I’d be damned if he was going without me.





CHAPTER 36





“You’re sure Steven isn’t here?” Nick was wound tight as a drum as he turned down the long gravel drive into the farm. My own stomach was already tangled in knots, and the ruts in the road weren’t helping matters. I swallowed the urge to be sick on the floor mats of his car.