A Threat to His Family Page 3

  “I didn’t hire that man to kill you,” Laney repeated when Owen finished his latest call, this one to the medical examiner.

  Declaring and redeclaring her innocence was something Laney had been going on about during the entire five hours they’d been there. He suspected she would continue to go on about it until the intruder either recanted or Kellan and he were indeed able to prove that he was lying.

  Owen figured proving it wouldn’t be that hard.

  However, they couldn’t even start doing that because the guy had lawyered up and they now had to wait for the attorney to arrive from San Antonio. Until then, they were holding not only the intruder but also Laney. Owen had not yet decided if she was a suspect, but he was pretty sure Laney—or rather Elaine—was going to be the key to them figuring out what the hell was going on.

  “The guy you shot and killed was Harvey Dayton,” Owen told her. He’d just gotten the ID during his call with the ME. “Ring any bells?”

  “No,” she answered without hesitation. “And I’m sure I’ve never seen him before, either. His prints were in the system,” Laney added in a mutter. “That’s how you got the ID this fast?”

  He nodded. “Dayton had a record,” Owen settled for saying.

  What he didn’t spell out for her was that the rap sheet was a mile long, and yeah, it included a couple of assault charges with a pattern of escalating violence. Along with a history of drug use, which made him a prime candidate for becoming a hired gun for people who wanted cheap help.

  “Did Dayton say what he took from the guesthouse?” Laney asked.

  Good question because, other than a gun, Dayton hadn’t had anything on him when Kellan and Gunnar had found him. The CSIs would search the area, but Dayton had been captured by the road, a good quarter mile from Owen’s ranch. There was no telling where he’d put whatever it was he’d taken.

  “Your laptop is missing,” Owen added, and he instantly saw the frustration and anger in her eyes.

  “I keep copies of my files in online storage,” she said with a heavy sigh. “But everything was also on my hard drive. It means whoever took it won’t have trouble accessing everything.”

  Later, he’d want to know more about exactly what was on it. For now, Owen went with giving her more info that would then lead to more questions. Hopefully, more answers, too. “Your toothbrush was there, so that axes your DNA theory. Your purse was open, and your wallet and cell phone were gone. No jewelry around, either, so if you had any—”

  “The only jewelry I have is this.” Laney touched her fingers to the gold dragonfly necklace that she’d gotten back from Addie. There was also a small key on the chain. “It was a gift from my sister.” She paused. “You really think the motive for this was robbery?”

  “No.” Owen didn’t have to think about that.

  The gunman had called her by name and come to the barn. Plus, nothing was missing from his house. If this had been a robbery, they would have taken his wallet and anything else of value. They also would have had a vehicle stashed nearby, and so far, one hadn’t turned up.

  “And the second man, the one who’s lying about me, any ID on him yet?” she queried.

  “Rohan Gilley.” Owen watched for any signs of recognition.

  She repeated the name several times, the way a person would when they were trying to jog their memory. But then Laney shook her head. “He had a record, too?”

  Owen settled for a nod. Gilley’s rap sheet was almost identical to Dayton’s, just slightly shorter. They’d even served time together.

  “Gilley’s lying to save his hide,” Laney grumbled. “Or because someone put him up to it.” She added some muttered profanity to go along with that.

  The last five hours hadn’t improved her mood much. She was just as wired as she had been during the attack. At least, though, she wasn’t trembling now. For reasons he didn’t want to explore, the trembling got to Owen, and right now the only thing he wanted to feel for this woman was the cool indifference he felt toward anyone who’d been involved in any way with a crime.

  But indifference was impossible.

  If she was telling the truth about not hiring Gilley—and he believed that she was—then that meant she was a victim, one who’d saved his daughter by getting her out of harm’s way. Hard for something that big not to be on the proverbial table.

  Laney’s tough exterior, or rather the front she’d tried to put on for him, cracked a little. She didn’t go back to trembling, but it was close, and before she could gather her composure, he caught another glimpse of nerves.

  Big ones.

  She was a PI—he’d confirmed that—but this could have been the first time she’d actually been in the middle of an attack. Maybe the first time she had been a target, too.

  Along with having a good aim, she had an athletic build and was on the petite side, only about five-three.

  And attractive.

  Something he hated that he noticed, but it was impossible to miss. Being a widower hadn’t made him blind. However, he still had plenty of common sense that reminded him that Laney had way too many secrets behind those cool blue eyes.

  “The CSIs found a jammer,” Owen went on a moment later. “That’s how Dayton and or Gilley cut off the electricity.”

  She stayed quiet for a moment. “That proves I’m innocent. I wouldn’t have needed to jam the power since I was already in the house.” Her eyes widened. “Did you check to make sure Francine really had an emergency? Those men wanted me there, and they could have tricked Francine into leaving.”

  At least Laney wasn’t accusing the nanny of any wrongdoing, but it was a clever observation. An accurate one, too. “The call from the nursing home was bogus.” Of course, Francine hadn’t learned that until she’d gotten there to check on her mom. By then, the attack at the ranch had already been in progress.

  “More proof,” Laney said under her breath. She looked up, her eyes meeting his. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have kept Addie there. I would have told Francine I couldn’t watch the girl so that Francine would have had to take Addie with her.”

  That was the way Owen had it figured, too, which was why he was leaning toward the conclusion that Laney was innocent. Of the attack anyway. But there was a boatload of other troubling concerns here. Not just the lies that she’d told him about her identity and work résumé, but there was also the problem with the accusation about Emerson.

  “Go back over what you told me in the barn,” Owen insisted. “Tell me about your half sister’s murder.”

  This would be a third round of Laney doing that, but thanks to an emailed report he’d gotten from the San Antonio PD in the past hour, Owen knew that Hadley’s death had indeed been ruled a murder. She’d died from blunt-force trauma to the head. No eyewitnesses, no suspects. Well, no official suspects for SAPD. Laney clearly felt differently about that.

  “Hadley and Emerson had an affair.” Laney stared at him. “I’m not going to change my story, no matter how many times you have me repeat it.”

  That was what he figured, but this was another square filler, like calling out his identity to the intruder. It was especially necessary because she’d lied to him about who she was.

  Something that still riled him to the core.

  Hell, here he was a cop, and he hadn’t known one of his employees was living under an alias. Of course, there was no way he would have hired her had he known who she was and what she was after. That got Owen thinking—exactly what was she after anyway?

  “Did you think I was covering up about my brother-in-law?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Her answer came quickly, causing him to huff. If she truly believed Emerson had murdered her sister, then she’d just accused Owen of assorted felonies by not reporting the crime and obstructing justice. An accusation she must have realized because her gaze darted away. “I know you’re clo
se to him.”

  Yeah, he was. Emerson had helped him get through Naomi’s death. Those days had been so dark, Owen would have slid right down into the deepest, darkest hole if it hadn’t been for Addie and Emerson.

  Of course, Emerson had been grieving, too, since he’d lost his only sister that day. Naomi and Emerson had been close, and while Owen didn’t have the deep connection with Emerson that Naomi had, Owen respected the man, especially after Naomi’s death when Emerson and he had been drawn together in grief. Maybe “misery loves company” had worked for both of them. Though there were times when Owen wondered if anything had actually worked. The grief could still slice through him.

  “Tell me why you think Emerson killed Hadley,” Owen demanded. “And stick to only what you can prove. Gut feelings don’t count here.”

  Her mouth tightened a little. “Hadley told me it got ugly when her relationship with Emerson was over. Like I said, she threatened to tell his wife, and then Emerson threatened her. He said he’d hurt her if she didn’t keep her mouth shut.”

  Emerson could have a hot head. Owen had even been on the receiving end of one of his punches in high school when they’d disagreed over the score in a pick-up basketball game. But it was a big stretch to go from a punch to hurting a woman, much less killing her.

  “That isn’t proof,” Owen quickly pointed out. “It’s hearsay.”

  Laney didn’t dodge his gaze this time. “I have pictures.”

  That got his attention. There’d been nothing about that in the police report. “Pictures?” he challenged.

  She nodded. “Of Emerson and Hadley together.” Another pause, then she mumbled something he didn’t catch. “Hadley told me about them and said she kept them in a safe-deposit box.”

  Owen wasn’t sure what to react to first. That there could be pictures or that this was the first he was hearing about it. “And you didn’t bother to tell the cops that?” he snarled.

  “I did tell them, but I didn’t know where they were. Hadley hadn’t given me the name of the bank where she had the box.” Her forehead bunched up. “I didn’t ask, either, because I didn’t know how important those pictures were going to become.”

  “They still might not be important. If the photos exist, they could possibly be proof of an affair and nothing more.” Though it twisted at his insides to think Emerson could have cheated on his wife.

  Laney made a sound of disagreement. “They’re important. Because they’re the first step in proving that Emerson carried through on his threat to hurt her.”

  Owen glanced at the key on the chain around her neck and groaned. “That’s for the safe-deposit box?”

  Her response wasn’t so quick this time. “Yes, I believe it is. And I’ll give it to the cops when I find out which bank has the photos. By cops, I mean the San Antonio Police, not anyone who has a personal connection to Emerson.”

  Of course. Laney wouldn’t trust him with the key because she believed he would tip off Emerson. Or destroy the pictures.

  He wouldn’t.

  If Owen did find something like that, he would do his job. But he doubted he could convince Laney of that. Doubted, too, that he could convince her of anything else right now.

  “If there are photos and a safe-deposit box, they could be anywhere,” he pointed out. “You need help finding them... Joe Henshaw’s helping you with that.”

  She nodded. “He’s a PI, too, and we became friends in a grief support group. He lost both his parents when they were murdered. Sorry,” Laney added.

  The apology was no doubt because his father had been murdered, too, about a year ago, not long after Owen had lost his wife. His father had been gunned down by an unknown perp who was still out there. Owen had hope, though, that the case would be solved since they had an eyewitness. Too bad the witness had received a head injury and couldn’t remember squat about what had happened. But maybe one day she would remember.

  One day.

  Even though it had nearly killed Owen to lose Naomi, it was a deeper cut to lose his father. Naomi’s death had been a medical problem. A blood clot that had formed during delivery. But his dad’s life had been purposely taken. Murdered. And all of Owen’s skills learned in training as a cop hadn’t been able to stop it. Or bring the killer to justice.

  Owen pushed that all aside, as he usually did when it came to his father, and went to the next item he needed to discuss with Laney.

  “Tell me about Terrance McCoy.”

  She raked her finger over her eyebrow and shifted her posture a little. “SAPD told you about the restraining order.” That was all she said for several moments. But yes, they had. “Then you also know that Terrance was a former client who wasn’t happy with the outcome of an investigation I did for him.”

  That was a lukewarm explanation of a situation that had gotten pretty intense. Apparently, Terrance had hired Laney to do a thorough background check on a woman he’d met on an online dating site. When Laney hadn’t turned up any red flags, Terrance had continued to see the woman, who ultimately swindled him out of a sizable chunk of his trust fund. He blamed Laney for that and had even accused her of being in cahoots with the swindler. No proof of that, though.

  “Terrance assaulted you,” Owen reminded her, letting her know what info he’d been given about the restraining order. “And he’s been out of jail for weeks now. He could have hired those men who came after you tonight.”

  She looked him in the eyes again when she agreed with him. “Yes, and Joe is looking for Terrance now.”

  Apparently that had come up in the short conversation she’d had with Joe. Or maybe Joe agreed that Terrance was definitely a person of interest here.

  “The San Antonio cops are looking for Terrance, too,” Owen added.

  After what had just happened, Terrance was at the top of their list of suspects. Ditto for anyone else Laney might have rubbed the wrong way. There were maybe other former clients out there. Dangerous ones. And because of the danger to Laney, Owen wasn’t going to forget that Addie had been put in danger, too.

  “I hate to ask, because I know it’s just going to rile you even more than you already are,” Laney said, “but could this be about your father?”

  Yes, he’d considered it. Briefly. And then he’d dismissed it, and Owen was pretty sure the dismissal had been objective. Hard to be completely objective when it came to that kind of raw grief, but he thought he’d managed it.

  “I’ll be investigating all angles,” Owen assured her. But he’d be looking especially hard at any of those directly connected to Laney.

  Laney and Owen both glanced up when there was movement in the doorway of his office. She practically jumped to her feet when she saw their visitor.

  Emerson.

  The man was wearing a rumpled suit, sporting some dark stubble and equally dark circles beneath his eyes. Emerson looked about as happy to be there as Owen was.

  It probably wasn’t a surprise to Laney that Owen had called his brother-in-law. Nor was it a surprise that Emerson had come. It’d taken him a couple of hours to get there because he’d had to drive in from Austin where he’d been away on a business trip.

  Emerson frowned at Laney after sparing her only a glance, and then he looked at Owen. “Please tell me you have her accusations cleared up by now so I can go home and get some sleep.”

  “He hasn’t cleared it up.” Laney jumped in to answer before Owen could respond.

  Emerson gave a weary sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. “Has she given you any proof whatsoever?” he asked.

  Owen went still. It was a simple enough question, but it didn’t feel like the right thing to say. He would have preferred to hear Emerson belt out a denial, tacking on some outrage that anyone was accusing him of cheating on his wife. There was something else that bothered him, too.

  “You know Laney?” Owen asked him. “Elain
e,” he corrected. He waited because he had already seen the recognition in Emerson’s eyes.

  “I know her,” Emerson stormed. “She’s the PI who pestered me with calls about her sister. I told her to back off or I’d get a restraining order.”

  Arching his eyebrow, Owen shifted his attention to Laney and she acknowledged that with a nod. So, before tonight, Emerson had known about Laney’s accusations, but he hadn’t said a word about it to Owen. Something he should have done. Then again, maybe Emerson hadn’t considered Laney enough of a credible threat.

  “Emerson?” a woman called out, causing the man to groan.

  Owen wasn’t pleased, either, or especially surprised when Emerson’s wife, Nettie, came hurrying through the front door, heading straight for them. “When you didn’t answer your cell, I called the house, looking for you,” Owen explained to Emerson. “Nettie answered, but I didn’t tell her about Laney or the attack.”

  Emerson nodded and gave a resigned sigh. “Something like this won’t stay quiet for long.”

  No. It wouldn’t. And Nettie’s expression was sporting a lot of concern. Ditto for the rest of her. Nettie was usually dressed to the nines, but tonight she was in yoga pants and a T-shirt. Her blond hair hadn’t been combed and her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying.

  “God, you’re all right.” Nettie threw herself into Emerson’s arms. “I was so worried.”

  Owen glanced at Laney, and as expected, she was studying the couple. There was a different kind of worry and concern on her face. She was looking at them the way a cop would. No doubt to see if there were any signs that this was a marriage on the rocks because of a cheating husband. No signs, though. Emerson brushed a loving kiss on Nettie’s forehead before he eased her away from him.

  “Could you give Owen and me a minute alone?” Emerson asked his wife. “I won’t be long. It’s business.”

  Nettie studied him a moment and nodded before her attention went to Owen. Then Laney. There was no recognition in Nettie’s icy gray eyes.