Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(85)

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.”

The guy really liked her, now, didn’t he? “Wait a minute. If there were men watching the house—”

“Exactly. Nobody got in, Ryker. Which means that the knife was planted . . .”

“During the search.” Ryker sat back, his mind reeling. “One of the cops?”

Brock nodded. “Yeah. That’s a list of the officers and detectives on the scene. I called in a favor. A couple of them, really, in order to get that list. You have the resources to track the names.” His hand shook when he patted the papers in front of him. “These are all my current cases that Zara is working on, and I’ve been going through them to look for leads on the off chance this isn’t related to the Pentley case. Haven’t found anything yet.”

Shit. Zara was at the police station. Ryker grabbed his phone and quickly texted Heath. The returned text relaxed his lungs. “Zara made bail, and Heath is taking her to my place now.” He quickly texted the most recent info and a request to lock down their building for safety.

AFFIRMATIVE was the response.

Good. All right. Ryker narrowed his gaze at the lawyer. “You need food and sleep, Brock. At least food.”

Brock grimaced. “A shower wouldn’t hurt, either. I’ll head home, and you track down those names and see what you find. We’ll touch base later today?” He stood and swayed.

Ryker shoved to his feet and tried to calm the nervous energy ripping him in two. “How about I drop you at your place on the way to my office? You’re in no condition to drive.” While he didn’t like the guy’s interest in Zara, Brock was trying to help.

Brock rolled his eyes. “I can make it home. The faster you get on that list, the better.”

True. Ryker grabbed his jacket and followed Brock through the office, where they checked in with Mrs. Thomson, and then outside into the freezing snow. He headed for his truck and waited until Brock had swung his Jeep around the corner. While the lawyer had said he was fine, he was barely functioning, so there was nothing wrong with following him to make sure he didn’t hit a building.

Ryker pulled his truck into the deserted street and followed the Jeep.

The lawyer drove slow but steady. Maybe he didn’t need a tail.

Ryker watched him for a couple more miles and then decided to turn off. Right as he was about to move, blue and red flashed behind him. He pulled over and tensed until he saw Detective Norton loping up his side of the car. “What now?” Ryker growled.

Norton shoved a gun in his face. “You’re under arrest, asshole.” He jerked open the door.

“Why?” Ryker kept his hands on the steering wheel.

“Accessory after the fact,” Norton said grimly, grabbing his arm.

Damn it all to hell. Ryker allowed the cop to pull him from the car, flip him around, and cuff him. “Based on what facts?”

Norton read him his rights. “Let’s get you booked and then we’ll have a nice chat in interrogation.” He pulled Ryker around and shoved him toward the car.

The detective was trying to mess with their heads, but Ryker didn’t have much of a choice unless he wanted a manhunt on his ass. So he trudged through the snow and let Norton shove him into the backseat. His butt hit cold vinyl, and he scooted over. The door slammed.

Norton got inside and slowly pulled the car into the street.

Wait a minute. “Where’s your partner, Detective?” Ryker asked.

“Gathering information on you, dickhead,” Norton returned evenly, his brown eyes concentrating on him in the rearview mirror. “I know you assisted Ms. Remington, but she’s the one I really want for this. Tell me where the package is, and I’ll let you out right here.”

Package? Ryker felt along the cuffs. Nice and tight. Something wasn’t right. “What package?”

“I am so tired of you assholes.” Norton turned down a tree-lined street.

Ryker studied the buildings surrounding them, his body settling into attack mode, his mind going clear and ready. “The police station is the other way.”

“Yeah. It is.” Norton made another turn. “Where’s the diary?”

Ryker’s analytical side clicked facts into place. Oh, so not good. “What diary?”

“Julie’s. She had one, and I know she sent it to Zara. Where the hell is it?”

Julie’s mystery man. The detective? Ryker hadn’t seen it coming—not even close. “You planted the knife.” Ryker tugged on the handcuffs, but there was absolutely no give. How had he missed this? He usually read people better. His personal life was fucking with his abilities.