Guarded (24 page)

T
HIS WASN’T REAL.
It just wasn’t. Things like this didn’t happen. People don’t just end up stuffed in a trunk. Certainly not in
her
trunk.

The pretty reporter was back on the screen. Shelley unmuted the television.

“This just in. My sources tell me that the owner of the car, one Shelley Grace Morgan, a local vet here in Elkridge, is missing. Could she be another victim of foul play or perhaps the murderer? Deputies are searching her apartment on—”

The television clicked off. Shelley jumped. She hadn’t heard Dev return. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his square jaw was so tight a muscle ticked. He glanced from the blank screen to his phone to her. “That sucks.”

Shelley snorted a laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny. I just . . . Maybe I should turn myself in.”

“And say what? That you’ve been staying in my house for the past twenty-four hours? We don’t know how long that guy’s been dead. What if twenty-four hours isn’t a long enough alibi?”

Her stomach shrank. “Oh, God. If the cops find me here, what’ll happen to you? To your career?” She answered her question. “This could destroy your career. Unless . . .”

“Unless what?” Dev narrowed his eyes.

Shelley swallowed past a sudden painful lump in her throat. She hated to even say it. She hadn’t done anything wrong. But if it could keep from implicating Dev, she could do it. “Unless you arrest me first.”

“No. That’s crazy. Right now, they don’t even know if you’re another victim or not.” Dev scrubbed a hand through his hair, making the blond strands stick up in all directions. He frowned, sank down onto the couch, and sighed. Shelley joined him, placing a hand on his knee.

“I don’t want you in trouble, Dev.”

“Okay.” Dev blinked his gorgeous gray eyes and asked in an almost casual tone, “Did you kill anyone?”

She tried not to be hurt by the question. Tried and failed. Withdrawing from him, she clasped both hands in her lap and said in a controlled voice, “No, I didn’t.”

“Do you have any reason to think someone would want to frame you for murder?”

It was her turn to blink. “Those missing animals could definitely cost someone prison time and a whole lot of money if they got caught.”

“It’s a big leap from tiger-napping to murder.” Dev grabbed his ever-present notebook and jotted something down but covered it before she had a chance to read it.

“Do you have any idea who might be in the trunk?”

Shelley went cold at the thought of someone lying dead in her car. Then a sick, oily feeling slithered into her belly. It curled around itself until she was certain she’d vomit from it.

“I haven’t been able to reach Tomás since Wednesday night. He’s rarely out of touch. He promised to keep me updated on Beau’s condition. But he’s not answering the phone . . . Oh God, it’s got to be him. Dev, if it
is
Tomás in my trunk, where’s Beau? The last time I saw them, they were together.”

Unable to sit still, she shoved to her feet, pacing. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening. Who would kill Tomás? Why? A balloon of panic swelled inside her until her chest ached.

Dev’s arms went around her. Her face pressed against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. “Shhh . . .” he whispered into her hair. “We don’t know anything yet. Let’s take it one step at a time.”

He rested his forehead against hers. The gesture was so sweet, so supportive—tears stung the back of her eyes. She didn’t know how to handle it, so she slid away from his touch.

Striding across the living room, she stepped out onto the porch. She leaned both hands on the white wooden railing and stared at the beauty in front of her. The ocean waves crashed against the shore, indicating a storm front moving in, but the sky was still a deep cerulean. Laughing gulls danced in the wind, flapping their wings only occasionally to stay in the sky. Sandpipers raced between the larger black-tailed godwits as they all sought a midday meal.

Even surrounded as she was by majestic sights and sounds, all Shelley could think of was her friend, possibly dead, and what awaited her in Elkridge.

The porch floor groaned. The sliding glass door closed with a thunk. Then Dev’s profile appeared to her left. He mimicked her pose, resting his hands on the railing. She’d expected him to speak. He didn’t. He simply stared at the ocean too.

“Ever notice, disasters always seem to strike on the prettiest days?” Shelley asked, unsurprised at the tremor in her voice. “Like Mother Nature is laughing at you?”

*   *   *

D
EV GLANCED AT
Shelley’s profile. Her red hair shone like curly copper flames in the sunlight. This morning she looked younger. Vulnerable.

To think he’d been frustrated when he awoke to an empty bed. What he wouldn’t give for that to be the biggest issue of the day. The man in him wanted to comfort her. Tell her everything would be all right. But the cop in him needed answers.

“Shells.” He waited for her to look at him. “My cousins will be here soon. Along with Seth and Jules. We need to work out a POA.”

She frowned and turned to face him, resting her back against the railing. Arms folded over her chest, she asked, “POA?”

“Sorry. Plan of action.” When she didn’t do more than stare at him, he added, “We need to discuss your alibi for the murder.”

“Murder,” she repeated. Tears glistened on her lashes but didn’t fall.

“I’m sorry, Shells, but we need to talk about this.”

She smiled weakly. He didn’t miss the fear in her eyes, but he didn’t know how to remove it without solving the mystery first.

“Let’s go inside,” he said. “The guys will be here soon.”

Shelley gripped her elbows until her knuckles turned white. “I don’t want Jules here. She’s got a good life. The last thing I want to do is mess it up again.”

“I don’t know if I can keep her away. Seth already knows about the murder. I texted him as soon as I saw the news report. He’s looking into getting more information for us as we speak.” When Shelley opened her mouth to say something, no doubt to argue, Dev held up a hand. “Seth already told Jules. She texted me as I was coming out to the porch to say they’ll be here soon.”

“Then I won’t be.” Shelley stormed into the house.

She made it to the bottom of the stairs before he caught up to her. Grabbing her hand, he held on, forcing her to stop. Eyes flashing with anger and fear, she spun on him. “Let. Me. Go.”

“No.” Was she nuts? Dev strove to keep his voice calm. “Why are you running? Everyone is coming here to help you.”

She jerked her hand free. He could have kept her in his grasp, but he didn’t fight. He could chase her if he had to, but for now he wanted her to feel safe. Maybe then she would stay put.

Shelley glared at him, unshed tears making her blue eyes swim. “I don’t want anyone else’s help. I asked
you
for help with the missing animals, but instead of staying in Elkridge and going through the files, you had me come here. Now the files are gone. The animals are gone. And Jesus, if the worst is true, Tomás is gone too. So no! I don’t want any more help. I just want to go back to Elkridge and talk to the sheriff. Maybe he’ll believe me when I tell him I think the murder is related to the missing tigers.”

“I
do
believe you,” he yelled, frustrated that she was right. He hadn’t taken her concerns seriously. Christ, if her friend was killed because Dev was too focused on getting her to Tidewater, she’d never forgive him. “What are you going to do if the sheriff doesn’t believe you? You do realize you could be arrested for capital murder?”

“You think I don’t know that?” she shouted, her fists on her hips, her face practically nose to nose with his. “But I didn’t do anything wrong! It doesn’t matter anyway. I still have to go back.”

“Why?” He couldn’t believe he was arguing with her against turning herself in. But something just wasn’t right in this whole situation. Before she went back, he wanted to make damned certain she wasn’t going to be charged for a crime she couldn’t have committed.

“Because the animals are counting on me. If whoever is taking these creatures killed Tomás, then there’s no one there to protect them.” Conviction radiated from her.

There was no way to win this part of the argument. He’d seen that look before in the faces of mothers searching for their missing children. The look of utter determination that vowed no rest until the mission was accomplished.

He sighed. Raising his hands in surrender, he said, “Okay, I’ll take you back.”

“Thank you,” she said, relief in her voice.

He held up a finger. “After we sit down and talk this out. I
am
going to help you. With the murder investigation and the missing animals. I made a promise. I keep my word. To do that I need Seth and my cousins.”

Lips pressed together, she slowly shook her head. “Not Jules. She’s got a life and doesn’t need me messing it up. It’s not like she can do anything to help. She’s useless. I don’t want her here.”

“Now that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Jules said, announcing her presence in the hallway.

Dev glanced past her to see Seth, Ian, and Ryan filing in through the sliding glass door. Relief went through him at the sight of the cavalry. It was short-lived.

Police sirens blared outside the house.

“A
LL CLEAR.
J
UST
cops in pursuit of a speeder,” said the man, who bore a striking resemblance to a young Brad Pitt from
Troy
. Tan, buff, with long golden hair and piercing blue eyes, he wore tight blue jeans, black T-shirt, and black cowboy boots.

Shelley blinked in a mix of shock and confusion at the uncanny resemblance, as the movie-star double walked through the front door and locked it behind him. His gaze bounced to everyone standing in the foyer until they landed on Shelley. He winked at her and said, “Guess you’re safe from the law for now.”

Dev growled low in his throat, belying the smile on his face. “Thanks, Ian. Give us a minute. Shelley and I’ll join everyone in the dining room.”

“Yup,” Ian said, but it came out in two syllables,
ye-up
. “Got any green tea, Dev?”

Shelley had to be dreaming. A body had been found in her car, the police were looking for her, and Dev was discussing beverages with Brad Pitt. Things like this did not happen to her.

“How do you drink that crap?” Dev gave a mock shudder. “I have whatever you left when you moved out. Hey, Ian, put on another pot of coffee for the real men while you’re at it.”

Ian offered a middle-fingered salute and led Dev’s other cousin with Seth and Jules down the hall to the kitchen. Their muffled conversations lent an air of privacy to the house’s large entryway.

Shelley kept glancing at the front door. Afraid that any minute now, the police
would
arrive to arrest her.

“I know you didn’t want Jules here,” Dev said, running a consoling hand up and down her arm. “But she’s here now. No one is going to judge or accuse you. I know you and Jules have some shit . . . pardon,
stuff
, to work out. Save it for another time. Right now, we’re up against the clock. It won’t take long for the police to put out an arrest warrant for you if the circumstantial evidence doesn’t point to anyone else, so we need to get your story. All of it.”

A shiver went down her back, but she refused to cower. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Dev gave her a weary, relieved smile.

“But after, you have to take me back to Elkridge. Or I’ll catch a bus.”

His smile vanished, in its place the tight-lipped expression of a cop she hardly knew. “Fine. Let’s go.”

She followed Dev down the hall. Voices of the men and Jules floated in the air. Their conversations were quiet and the words unclear, but the tension was thick enough that it clogged Shelley’s throat.

It took several minutes of closing the curtains in the dining room and clearing off the table before everyone gathered around it. Shelley made herself useful by helping Ian and Jules make coffee, tea, and toast in the kitchen.

Jules worked with her, side by side, occasionally giving her odd glances, but never speaking. Shelley could practically feel the weight of her sister’s displeasure, like a Great Dane sitting on her chest.

Ian carried a tray laden with mugs out of the kitchen.

“Jules, I’m sorry,” Shelley said, the moment they were alone. “What you heard me say earlier about you being useless . . . it’s not how I meant it. I meant you can’t help with the case is all.”

Jules’s green gaze, loaded with hurt, collided with hers. “Well, that’s a relief. But, Shelley, that’s not what’s bothering me. There’s—”

But Dev’s other cousin, Ryan, a giant of a man at six foot six, swathed in black from neck to toe, poked his shaved head into the kitchen. “Dev’s ready for you,” he said in a voice that made Dev’s deep voice sound positively falsetto.

“We’re coming right now.” Jules picked up the sugar jar, creamer, and spoons, and nodded to the toast and jelly. “Grab those. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Fine.”

“We will.” Jules paused to meet Shelley’s gaze.

Something earnest burned in Jules’s eyes making Shelley’s chest tighten. God, that look was so like their mother’s. And for a moment, she took comfort in the sense of family. Shelley wished that the sense of belonging she had found wouldn’t disappear again.

“Let’s get this meeting over with,” Jules said. “Then we can talk. Privately.”

Shelley followed her sister into the dining room. The four men were seated around the large rectangular table. Four of the six chairs were occupied. The only two seats left were next to Seth and Dev. Jules, not unexpectedly, filled the empty space next to her fiancé, leaving Shelley to claim the chair beside Dev.

Dev reached beneath the table and gently took her hand in his. The move was so pure, so comforting to Shelley’s frayed nerves, it nearly had her weeping.

Gah, I’m becoming a major wimp.

“Okay, let’s get introductions over with.” Dev released her hand and pointed to the giant on his left. “This is Ryan McKinnon. He owns half of TSS, Tidewater Security Specialists.”

Across the table, Jules sat up a little straighter. Her eyes wide. She glanced to the man on Shelley’s right and asked, “Does that make you, Ian McKinnon?”

Ian flashed that Hollywood smile and nodded. “Sure does. Have we met?”

“This is my fiancée, Juliana Scott,” Seth said, placing an arm around Jules’s shoulders.

Ian didn’t seem at all bothered by Seth’s macho leaning. If anything, the guy smiled wider. “Why, Ms. Scott, how nice to meet you in person.”

Jules glanced to Shelley, explaining, “Ian and I spoke last month when I started the official search for you and Hannah. He was out of town and asked Dev to handle the case for him.”

“Oh.” Shelley wasn’t sure what to say or even feel. So she did what she did best. Pasting her best smile on her face, she extended her hand to Ian and said, “Congratulations. TSS solved that case. Dev found me. Do I get part of the commission because I really found him first?”

Ian laughed and shook her hand. “Nah, I think we’ll call it a draw, considering why we’re here now.”

Right, and thanks so much for the reminder.

As if sensing her discomfort, or maybe he was just tired of the delay, Dev said, “Let’s start with what we know. According to the news, a body was found in the trunk of a car at the Elkridge Zoo. We know that car belongs to Shells.”

Seth’s cell phone buzzed. He glanced at it and tossed it onto the table. “And now we know the name of the victim. He has been identified as Tomás Rodriguez, age twenty-eight.”

Shelley couldn’t help it, she started to cry and hated herself for it. “I mean, I suspected it was Tomás, but he was my friend.” Then it hit her. “What about Beau? He wasn’t hurt was he?”

“Who’s Beau?” Ryan asked at the same time that Ian said, “Why would you think that?”

Ian handed Shelley a white handkerchief. The act was so anachronistic with everything about the man, it momentarily stunned her.

Who carried around a handkerchief these days?

“Thanks,” she told him, then wiped her face. Turning to Ryan, she explained, “Beau is Tomás’s son. At least he would have been legally next week.” Shelley explained the legal entanglements Tomás and Beau had been facing. “The last time I saw Tomás, he and Beau were together. Beau was asleep in Tomás’s office at the zoo’s visitor center when I left them Wednesday night. Don’t you see? If Tomás was killed at the zoo, Beau was there. So where is he now? I need to call Jacob.”

“Why?” Dev asked.

Shelley explained about the morning’s phone call from Jacob. She left out the part about Jacob trying to trick her boss into hiring her back and focused on the pertinent details of the situation. “Wednesday night, Tomás told Beau he could leave the pet at his place. But Beau never picked him up.”

Without warning, the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. A cold wind blew from the vents on the wall. Ian frowned, rubbing at the goose bumps on his arms. “Dev, what’s with the heat in this old house? I thought you had the HVAC replaced last spring?”

“I did,” Dev said, calmly.

“Is she okay?” Ian asked, nodding at Jules.

Jules’s face went blank, as if she’d gone into a trance. Seth had his arm around her. Dev gave Shelley’s hand a quick squeeze, then he released her. All attention was on her sister.

Shelley recognized the look. She’d seen it more than once when they were children and again last night after dinner. Still, it unnerved her every time.

Shelley shivered. Dev moved to drape an arm around her shoulders. She wasn’t sure whether he was comforting her or himself, until he said, “Don’t worry. Seth warned me that she’s done this twice since dinner last night. He said she’s been snapping out of it quicker. Give her a second.”

Just as Dev predicted, Jules blinked and her expression cleared. But she didn’t look happy. No, Jules glanced at Shelley and Dev, past them to the curtained windows, and finally to the ground.

“Is she all right?” Ryan asked, looking at Jules with concern.

“Just a little light-headed. I need a minute—I feel a bit queasy,” Jules answered, pushing to her feet. She wobbled and to Shelley’s surprise, Jules reached for her. “Can you give me a hand? Excuse us, gentlemen.”

“Sure. We’ll be right back.” Shelley looped Jules’s arm around her waist and led her across the hall to the small half bath. Once inside, she grabbed a cloth from the shelf, ran it under cold water and dabbed it on her sister’s forehead and neck. “Better?”

Jules took the cloth with a weak smile and nodded. Several moments passed in silence. Just when Shelley would have suggested returning to the dining room, Jules spoke.

“He’s here.”

“Who?”

“Tomás.”

“Wait, what?” Shelley blinked at her sister’s solemn expression.

Jules swiped the cloth over the back of her neck again, tossed it into the sink and said, “Tomás is here. He’s been dead for a couple of days. The last thing he remembers is seeing you at the visitor center Wednesday night, then going to the security office.”

“Why is he here?” Shelley wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she needed to at the same time.

Jules shrugged. “Same reason most spirits hang around. He has unfinished business. He said he’s been looking for you and Beau but hadn’t been able to find either of you. Not until he heard you calling his name.”

“Oh, my God, he doesn’t know where Beau is? Don’t the dead always know everything after they die?”

Jules shook her head. “From what I can tell, being a ghost is nothing like in the movies. Sometimes they can’t even remember their own names. So I’d say your friend Tomás is doing pretty good for a recently deceased spirit.”

Shelley couldn’t quite see that. Tomás was dead after all. “Jules, do the dead always hear their names? Can they see other ghosts?”

“Not always.” Jules picked up the cloth and dabbed her cheeks. “It’s selective. They see those spirits they seek out. Kind of like how we can walk down the same street every day and never notice the guy with long hair who checks his mail at the same time each afternoon. He’s there, you know it, but you don’t really pay attention. Then one day, he calls to you and you see him. Really see him. Ghosts are the same way.”

“Does that mean that if I call for someone who died a long time ago, she’ll hear me?” Shelley asked, temporarily distracted by the idea of talking to her dead parents.

Jules pursed her lips with an apologetic look. “I’ve only been really trying to learn more about my crift for a short time, but no, I don’t think so. Spirits can only hear their names if they’re on this side of the light. I’ve never heard of anyone crossing back from the other side.”

For an instant, just a brief moment, the room’s temperature dropped. Shelley could almost swear she felt someone touch her cheek with an icy finger. She shivered.

“Shelley, we need to go back out there.” Jules pointed to the door, her eyes wide and her tone urgent. “You need to tell them everything that happened Wednesday night. Tomás says it’s important. That there’s something he’s trying to remember, and it has to do with you. And his murder.”

*   *   *

D
EV
HATED
KEEPING
secrets from his cousins, especially when they were here to help him. But it wasn’t his place to tell them about Jules’s ghost-seeing abilities. Granted, Ian and Ryan probably wouldn’t even flinch at the mention of ghosts or animal whisperers. Lord knew they had their own share of relatives with shiny talents that science couldn’t explain.

But without Jules’s consent, Dev was forced to sit and wait for the women to come back, while dodging his cousins’ probing questions.

“You sure she’s all right?” Ian asked. “She kind of looked like Aunt Marlene at the punch bowl.”

Aunt Marlene owned a crystal punch bowl that she swore, when filled with vodka, gave her glimpses into people’s past lives. Dev suspected it was more because of the vodka she would siphon off when she thought no one was watching than any real shiny talent.

“Juliana’s fine,” Seth said gruffly to Ian, but then rose. “Excuse me.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

Seconds later, Shelley emerged and joined Dev at the table. She sat with her hands folded, arms resting on the cherrywood tabletop. “Where do we start?”

Dev glanced at his cousins, then back to her. “Start at the beginning. If you’re right and you stumbled onto something that someone thinks is worth killing for, then we need to know everything you do.”