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“Let’s hope that’s him. Keeps our tax dollars lower when we don’t have to prosecute dead people.” Trace pointed outside. “Looks like Wayne burned in his own personal hell. How about we send the other one to burn in a different kind of hell?”

“Yeah, like alone in a jail cell on death row.” Bergman stuffed his unused pad of paper in his pocket and turned toward the door. “Watch your backs. It seems someone wants you three a little bit dead. Until we know for sure we have rounded up all the suspects, be diligent.”

Chapter Thirty

Keegan couldn’t get enough to eat. He’d never been so hungry in his life. He leaned over his plate, shoveling in scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, and hash browns so fast his shaky arm was a blur in front of his face.

When he glanced up, he found Melinda grinning, her elbows on the table, her chin resting on one palm. “Hungry?”

He growled and continued.

Trace’s parents had graciously taken the three of them in when they’d finally been able to leave Keegan’s burned house in the wee hours of the morning. Carlie and Adam Masters were absolutely awesome.

Carlie stood at the stove cooking as fast as she could to keep up with the extra hungry wolves who’d descended—one of whom hadn’t eaten in two days. She chuckled as she returned to the table and set another enormous platter of food in the middle.

The steam brought the scent of sausage to Keegan’s nose, making him moan again.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked Melinda through a mouthful of pancake.

“I did. You missed it. I ate a normal plate of food while you were consuming an entire pig there.” She giggled, pointing at his plate.

Carlie picked up Keegan’s glass. “More orange juice?”

“Please.”

Melinda grew serious, her face falling so that her brows furrowed. “Are you doing okay?”

He frowned, finally deciding he had enough food and setting his fork down to lean back in the chair. “Yeah. Why?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you were in a serious accident. You spent two days scaring the hell out of me. Your house just burned to the ground. Oh, and I don’t think you any longer have a job.”

He smiled. “Hon. I’m fine.” He pointed down at his body. “All mended. My house is just a pile of possessions we can replace. And I didn’t lose my job at all. I just won’t likely return to that site. You should be glad. You hated that casino.” He leaned forward to stroke a hand down her face. “All that matters to me is right under this roof.”

Trace wandered in. He’d been on the phone in the den for the last hour. The sheriff’s office was buzzing with insanity, but Sheriff Bergman had forbidden Trace from entering the precinct.

Keegan turned toward Trace, his blood draining from his head at the expression on Trace’s face.

Trace pulled out a chair across from Keegan and Melinda.

“What happened? You look like you saw a ghost.”

Melinda punched him. “Hey, don’t make light of that idea. I’ve seen a few ghostly figures lately that were deadly serious.”

“I have bad news.” Trace looked directly at Keegan.

Keegan swallowed. “What happened?”

“Mitch Highland’s mate found him in the basement earlier this morning. He hanged himself.”

Keegan blinked, unable to move or speak. It felt like his heart stopped. He stiffened.

What the hell? Maybe he hadn’t heard correctly.

Trace grabbed his bicep and squeezed. “It’s worse.”

How could it be worse?

“He left a suicide note.”

Keegan gulped back bile, his enormous breakfast threatening to revolt.

“Apparently he was involved in this conspiracy.”

Keegan shook his head. No way. This wasn’t happening.

“Oh, God.” Melinda grabbed his other arm and leaned into his bicep. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He couldn’t process anything. All he knew was there must be some mistake.

Trace ducked his head and stared at the table for a moment.

“Fuck.” Keegan jumped up from his seat, sending it toppling over onto the floor.

He ran a hand through his hair and turned around in a slow circle. There was no way to understand this. “I just can’t…”

“I know, man. It sucks.”

“How could I be such a poor judge of character?”

Melinda gasped. “You can’t make this a reflection of you, Keegan. You aren’t the one who committed a crime.”

“I should have known.”

“If anyone should have known, it should have been me.” Melinda sat very still.

He turned to stare at his mate, blinking. He couldn’t begin to contemplate the implication of that. Instead he gave a short frustrated scream and stomped his foot as if he was having a childhood tantrum.

Trace spoke again. “I don’t think it was always this way. He indicated he’d been clean his entire life until a week ago when a man contacted him and threatened his life if he didn’t shut you up and keep things under wraps. He stole the files from the construction trailer. Claims he burned them. He also wiped the computer files clean. He managed to lie to his wife for the entire week also. Apparently she knew nothing. She’s hysterical, claiming he wasn’t himself lately, and she knew he was blocking her from his thoughts, but she brushed it off, thinking he was trying to protect her from his own stressful job situation. He hid the fact he was doing nothing to help you solve the mystery. He never even tried to find the previous inspector. He knew the guy was already dead.”

“Jesus,” Keegan said.

“Yeah. Duncan Crawford. Either this greedy bastard from Templeton killed him or he had him done.”

“Who? Who was it?”

“Mitch never knew who he was dealing with. All their communication was by phone. He grew nervous when Nolan Friedmont turned up dead, but he was trapped.

He wasn’t even receiving money. He was just trying to keep himself alive, and probably you too.”

“No wonder he suggested we send our mates out of town and then insisted we get them protection. He knew we were in grave danger.”

“Yeah. And his wife says he’s been acting crazy ever since that scaffolding collapse.

He must have realized it was intentional. He lost it. Snapped. She couldn’t get through to him, and she had no idea what was bothering him. She just assumed he was stressed about the job site.”

“So he knew this asshole intended to kill me last night. He may have even set me up.” Keegan shouted that last part. His blood boiled as he moved from incredulous to downright furious.

“We don’t know that for sure. And we may never know.”

Melinda gasped. “That poor woman. Serena. She was so nice to me the night of the accident.”

Trace nodded. “And now she’s had to spend hours being interrogated, and her house is currently being tossed upside down by the feds. I’m sure she’s a mess.”

“That’s awful. She didn’t do anything to deserve this. Do you think she knew anything about it?” Melinda’s shoulders slumped.

Keegan shook his head. “I seriously doubt it.”

Someone eased into the kitchen from the hall. “Everything okay in here?” Keegan lifted his gaze to find Trace’s father, Adam, and his brother, Logan, in the doorframe.

Adam looked worried, his brow furrowed as he stepped farther into the room. Zachary entered behind him also.

“Hey, Dad. No. I just gave Keegan some bad news.” Trace stood, scooting his chair back.

Keegan stared at each person in the room one at a time. He had an overwhelming out-of-body sensation. None of this could be happening. It was too farfetched. He needed sleep. Maybe if he rested, he would wake up and be back several days. Hell, he’d need to go back even further to erase the fucked-up situation he lived in.

“Anything we can do?” Zachary asked. Trace’s next youngest brother was the quietest of the siblings.

“I need to run,” Keegan declared.

“Good idea.” Trace turned toward Zachary. “You want to come along?”

“Sounds good. I’ll drive. I know just the spot.” Zachary headed for the row of hooks by the kitchen door and grabbed a set of keys.

Melinda rose from her seat. “You want me to come, Keegan? I’ll be happy to stay here if you’d rather go with the guys.”

Keegan nodded and stepped toward her. He loved how well she could read him after so few days. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and tipped her head back. “I love you,” he said as he bumped his forehead against hers. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not. I would slow you down, and besides, you won’t worry about me if I stay here with Carlie and Sharon. Go.” She grabbed his forearms and lifted up on tiptoes to kiss him briefly. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

He watched her face. Blessed her for everything unspoken. She understood his need to run fast and free. His sweet mate already grasped how concerned he would be with her trailing behind him. And she also had the sense to stay safe inside the house. There was no way of knowing if this thing was over yet.

Keegan gave her a brief smile and turned toward Trace and Zachary. “Let’s go.”

 •●• 

Melinda sat curled up on the plush couch in the Masters’ great room. Sharon, Trace’s only sister, sat on the other end, her feet tucked under her in the same way.

The men had been gone for a few hours. Melinda wasn’t worried. Even though they had only communicated with her a few brief times, she knew they were fine. Trace wouldn’t let Keegan do anything stupid. And even if he got swept into a bad plan, Zachary was with them.

“You look a lot like Miles.” Sharon smiled warmly. “I did a double take when I first saw you at the housewarming party last week.”

“Except he’s three times bigger than me.” Melinda chuckled. She had been introduced to Sharon briefly at the party, but then Trace and Keegan had arrived and made the rest of the guests invisible. Plus Rebecca went into labor. That night had been long.

And several nights since then had been longer.

Carlie padded into the room and took a seat across from Melinda and Sharon.

“How’re you doing, sweetie?”

“I’m okay.” Melinda was numb, actually. That was the only way to describe it.

“You know your grandmother is welcome to come to here if she’d like. I’m sure Trace wanted you to stay in the house for safety reasons, but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have your family around if it would comfort you.”

“Thank you. You’re very kind. I’m okay. And I’ve spoken to Mimi twice. She would probably smother me if I had her under foot. She can be rather formidable for a tiny grandma.” Melinda chuckled.

“I can imagine. She raised you and Miles. She must be a tough woman.”

“She is. The toughest. I love her with all my heart.” Melinda hesitated for a moment. “She’s…sensitive.”

“We know,” Sharon said. “Griffen told us all about you and your grandmother. In fact he has always insisted he owes his mate’s life to your abilities.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. All I can do is nudge people on what amounts to a gut feeling most of the time.”

“Still,” Sharon shrugged, “you were spot on that time.”

“And I imagine this time too,” Carlie said, referring undoubtedly to the casino.

“Maybe.” Melinda leaned back and tipped her face toward the ceiling. She didn’t feel overwhelmingly helpful in this case. Sure, she’d had the intense sense of doom at the site, but there had been no way to be sure what that equated to. And in the end, Keegan was badly injured in the scaffolding collapse. He could have died. How did that make her gift worthwhile?

“Have you spoken to your mother?” Carlie asked. “I know you were just reunited last weekend. She must be worried sick.”

Melinda nodded. “She is. It’s weird. I only spent a few hours with her, and I already feel a connection. I still need to spend some time wrapping my head around her abandonment. Even though it wasn’t truly in her control, it hurts.”

“I’m sure it does.” Carlie’s brow furrowed. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling with regards to her. The last thing you needed was an entire week of insanity dumped on you right after reuniting.”

Melinda swallowed back the pain.

Carlie cleared her throat. “I’m sure you have a running tally of ‘what-ifs’ going through your head, but you can’t do that to yourself. You know better than anyone your gift is not precise. You warned your mates repeatedly about the site. All you can do in this life is gently inform people of their obstacles. You can’t force them to listen or heed your advice.”

Melinda met Carlie’s gaze. “You can lead a horse to water…” She smiled. The woman was right. “But Keegan is my mate.”

“And from my understanding, he fought you at every turn.”

“He did.”

Sharon leaned forward, taking Melinda’s hand in hers. “You are not to blame for anything that happened. I heard you tell Keegan exactly that earlier this morning. It applies to you too.”

Melinda hadn’t realized Sharon had been nearby when she’d lectured Keegan about his lack of blame where Mitch was concerned. It was the same. The kind women were both right. Mitch was Keegan’s boss. There was no reason for Keegan to have doubted his intentions. The man had gone to great lengths to keep his true involvement under tight rein.

Even Melinda had gotten very few vibes from Mitch. Other than an initial unease when she met him, she hadn’t experienced anything remotely indicative of his involvement until he’d visited Keegan’s house yesterday. That bothered her more than anything. And she wondered if it had occurred to Keegan that she was just as to blame for not recognizing the danger in his boss as he was.

The truth was Melinda had felt a twinge of something in her stomach when she met Mitch, but since she’d only ever seen the man at the casino, it had been impossible to separate one evil from another. Half the people at the casino site made her nervous. She assumed it was the site, not the people. Even the site foreman had made her cringe.

“What do you think will happen to the casino now?” Sharon asked as she released Melinda’s hand and changed the subject.

“God, I hope they plow it under and abandon it. I detest that monstrosity with a passion.”

“Maybe you’ll get your wish.”

 •●• 

It was late afternoon when Trace followed Zachary and Keegan back into the house.

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