Walking on Her Grave (Rogue River Novella, Book 4) (12 page)

Carly perched on the edge of his bed and took his hand. “Faye is in ICU. Zane can’t ask her any questions yet.”

“That’s okay,” Seth said. “Before you showed up, Faye talked plenty. O’Rourke Properties was already close to bankruptcy last year. She sold every asset she had to finance the construction project. But costs ran over. Walt came up with the idea of making drugs for extra cash. It paid well, but it got out of hand fast.”

“I can’t believe it. If she had money, why was she skimping on cheap materials, and who set the resort on fire?” Carly asked.

“Drugs are profitable, but the costs ran higher than Walt or Faye expected. Apparently bribery gets expensive, and their cash flow was already falling short. That’s why the O’Rourkes were letting their contractors go and claiming their work was inferior to avoid paying them. Faye and Walt also didn’t expect the rivalry with the gang from the coast. Drug dealing was more complicated than they anticipated.”

“So who set the resort on fire?”

“Faye ordered her men to do it. She was hoping the insurance money would tide her over. Plus, they’d skimped and used cheap construction materials. That’s why the resort had failed so many inspections. Faye thought a nice raging fire would destroy the evidence. With the insurance money, they could have started again.”

“Did Katelyn know?”

Seth shook his head. Dizziness came and went. “Katelyn slept with Mike to get him to pass inspections, but that was the extent of her involvement. Everything else was all Faye. She was the one who bribed Roy to look the other way. She knew about his gambling problem and loaned him some money. Once he was in debt to her, she had him by the short hairs. Then, after that boy overdosed back in May, Roy told her that was it. He was going to confess everything. So Faye had her men kill him the same way they killed Mike.”

Seth yawned. Though the drug had mostly worn off, he could feel the beginning of an epic hangover starting in the back of his head.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Carly tugged his blanket over his chest, then moved to the chair next to the bed.

He slid down on the pillow. “You’re not going home?”

“Not just yet.” She was there when he fell asleep, and she was still there every time he opened his eyes during the night.

TWO DAYS LATER

Carly lit the last Roman candle and watched it burst in the sky. Bright colors reflected off her father’s granite headstone. “We miss you, Dad.”

Next to her, Stevie sighed. “At least we know who killed him. It’s finally over.”

“You can finally enjoy that small-town life you came home for,” Carly said.

“I quit the LAPD and moved home for some peace and quiet, not a string of murders.”

Small Town Rule #10: If you couldn’t wait to leave your small town, as soon as you did, you realized it had been the best place to grow up.

“Doesn’t seem like any of it was real. Things like that shouldn’t be able to touch Solitude.”

“Drugs are ugly, and there’s no avoiding them these days, not even here,” Stevie said. “It’s sad that one of our own brought that ugliness here. Faye’s family was such a huge part of Solitude’s heritage.”

Carly sighed and started cleaning up their father’s gravesite. She held up their father’s homemade fireworks launcher. “Dad left us the best legacy.”

“The perfect heirloom for the daughters of a police chief with a weakness for illegal pyrotechnics.”

Carly laughed. “Illegal or not, he did love his fireworks.”

“We’ll be back with more on New Year’s Eve,” Stevie said. “I have no intention of stopping his favorite tradition.”

“Me either,” Carly agreed. “Would you mind if I brought Brianna next time?”

Stevie wiped a tear from her cheek. “Of course not. Dad would love it.”

The cemetery sat on a hill. Below, the Rogue River flowed, inky black in the darkness. The overcast sky threatened to dump rain on them at any moment. But Carly didn’t mind. The cold front was a welcome reprieve from the grueling heat of this summer.

“Was Brianna upset that the parade was rained out this morning?”

“Seth told her she could keep the kittens. Nothing could make her sad.”

“He’s really come around,” Stevie said. “Dad would be happy. He always liked Seth.”

“I know.”

Headlights passed over the grass. Wet blades glimmered.

“Who is that?” Carly asked.

Stevie put her hands on her hips. “Looks like Zane’s vehicle.”

Another car pulled in next to him. Squinting, Carly zipped her backpack. “That’s Seth.”

“Good thing we’re finished.”

They watched Zane and Seth cross the grass.

“We were filling out paperwork when we got a call about illegal fireworks use at the cemetery.” Zane shined his flashlight in Stevie’s eyes. “We have enough to deal with right now. I don’t need late-night calls involving one of my own officers.”

Seth propped his hands on his hips. “Like the paperwork this case has generated wasn’t painful enough.”

“What fireworks?” Carly gave them an exaggerated shrug.

Stevie kicked the backpack behind Dad’s headstone. “We haven’t seen any fireworks.”

Zane laughed, softening the lines of exhaustion around his eyes. “Are you done?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stevie said in a haughty voice. “We were just here having a conversation, minding our own business.”

“What’s in the backpack?” Seth asked.

“Flowers,” Carly said.

“Your flowers smell like gunpowder.” Zane reached for Stevie’s hand. “We better get out of here before somebody calls a cop.”

Stevie gave Carly a quick hug and left with Zane, hand in hand. Carly sighed. Her sister deserved a good man.

She turned to Seth, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was shining his flashlight on her father’s gravestone. She stepped up beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Grief swelled in her heart. “I miss him so much.”

“Me too.” He rubbed her arm. He moved his beam to the second half of the double headstone.

P
ATSY
T
AYLOR
1959–

“I hate that she put her name on the tombstone.” Carly shivered. “It’s so morbid.”

“I know exactly how your mom feels.” Seth turned her to face him. He lifted her chin with a finger. “You are everything to me. You are more than my wife. You’re my best friend, Carly. I want to be with you until they put me in my grave.”

After nearly seeing him die, Carly couldn’t bear the thought. “Please don’t say that.”

She pulled away, walking across the damp grass to the edge of the cemetery. The clouds parted, and a beam of moonlight shimmered on the bubbling surface of the Rogue River. Without that river, she and Seth would both be dead.

He stepped up beside her. “I mean it. There is nothing in the world I wouldn’t do to get you back.”

“What about marriage counseling?”

“When and where?” His gaze didn’t falter. “I’ll be there.”

Carly smiled. “You mean it? You wouldn’t go before.”

“I said
anything
. I meant
anything
.” Seth took her hands and held them in his. His fingers curled warmly around her palms. “When you’re not with me, I feel like I can’t take a deep breath. I’m half a person, and not the best half. I want us to be a family again. I was even thinking maybe your mom would let us live in the cabin.”

“Instead of our house?”

“It was just a thought. Brianna seems so happy with your mom. There’s less stress on her with your mom around to help. If you don’t like the idea, just forget it.”

Carly rose on her toes to kiss him on the mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kissed her back, long and hard enough to make her feet arch in her Keds.

“I like the idea. I’d have to ask my mom, though I think she’d love it. So we can talk about that with the marriage counselor. On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You carry my backpack. Those
flowers
are damned heavy.”

Seth laughed, and joy filled Carly’s heart. Even in the light of the moon, the road ahead of them was dim. But she knew without a doubt that her husband would shoulder any burden for her. The future held no guarantees. But tonight she had hope, and that was enough.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Photo © 2014 Marti Corn Photography

The Rogue River novella series started as an idea proposed to us by our editors at Montlake Romance. So we’d like to thank JoVon Sotak and Kelli Martin for putting the concept of writing a joint project in our heads. Writing is normally a very solitary occupation. This type of collaboration was a whole new experience for both of us. We discovered that the only thing better than having writer buddies is having one to help you plot murder. On paper, of course.

Melinda Leigh and Kendra Elliot

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photo © 2012 John Tannock Photography

Melinda Leigh abandoned her career in banking to raise her kids and never looked back. She started writing as a hobby and became addicted to creating characters and stories. Since then she has won numerous writing awards for her paranormal romance and romantic-suspense fiction.

Her debut novel,
She Can Run
, was a number one bestseller in Kindle Romantic Suspense, a 2011
Romance Reviews
Best Book Finalist, and a nominee for the 2012 International Thriller Award for Best First Book. Melinda is also a two-time
Daphne du Maurier Award finalist. When she isn’t writing, Melinda is an avid martial artist: she holds a second-degree black belt in Kenpo karate and teaches women’s self-defense. She lives in a messy house with her husband, two teenagers, a couple of dogs, and two rescued cats.