Lone Wolf Bounty Hunter, page 15
He silently thanked his lucky stars. Maybe Baker had been in his corner all along and he hadn’t needed to make the young officer call him in. “So, you talked to Daniels earlier?”
Baker chuckled. “No, but it didn’t take me long to get things straightened out after I was told you were here. You and I, we have bigger fish to fry than some little pissant coming after you on what was little more than a miscommunication and you being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Weren’t you at the wrong place, Lockwood?” The way he said his name made it clear that he wasn’t really asking him a question.
“Yes, sir.” He felt like he owed Baker more, but he was sure the favor would come full circle someday when the man would need him.
“A mistake was certainly made by our teams in letting the senator go, but they are now combing the streets looking for the man. We are hoping we can bring him in on his warrant by tomorrow. Which means, maybe you can...and should...keep your head down. There aren’t many more strings I can pull for you today.”
He nodded appreciatively. “Again, thank you. You know I owe you one—especially if you bring in the senator.” He probably shouldn’t have said that last bit aloud, but he couldn’t help it. He really would owe this man more than he knew if he was to put an end to the manhunt.
Baker scanned his key card and opened the door that led to the main lobby. “Before you go home—and, I repeat, go home—I do need to ask you a few more questions about the scene you found at the lawyer’s office. Do you have time to chat?”
He didn’t have time. He wanted to get back to Kendra, but he would have to do whatever this man asked. It was primarily because of him that he was standing where he was.
The lobby featured a couple of rows of blue plastic chairs, the kind that looked like those in high schools across America, except these had been welded together. “Why don’t you take a quick seat?” Baker motioned toward the chairs, glancing around quickly as though he was looking to make sure that they were alone and out of earshot of anyone who cared to listen.
He did as asked, and Baker sat down in the chair one down from him. There was a strange twitch at the corner of his eyes that made Trent wonder if this was going to be less than a friendly little chat and more of an interrogation.
“What’s going on? Did you get a lead on your murder investigation?” Trent asked, unexpectedly nervous. “I’m telling you, you need to start looking into Clark’s guards. He is obviously willing to use them to get whatever it is that he is after. Now, I don’t know why he would kill—”
“Stop.” Baker raised two fingers, silencing him. “I know you have a vendetta against the senator, but just because you dislike the man—”
“It’s a whole hell of a lot more than just a vendetta. The guy is trying to destroy my family’s business, and he is probably going to get away with it. Lockwood Bonds has been in my family for forty years. I can’t let him take us down with him.”
“You know,” Detective Baker started, his voice low and soft, “in my line of work, what you just said could best be called a motive.”
“Motive for what?” Trent asked, put out. “All I want is to get our money back.”
“You’re a friend. If you weren’t, I’d let you keep on talking... But, as it is, I think you need to be very careful about what you say next.”
The blood rushed from his extremities and pooled down in his feet as his central nervous system kicked into high gear and deep-seated fear took hold. “What do you mean? Am I being investigated for something? What do you think I did?” The questions came out in a single breath, and for a moment he felt like he was fifteen years old again and his dad had just found out he had totaled the family’s car.
“We received some new information about the secretary’s and lawyer’s deaths. As such, there are a few more things you and I need to discuss.” Baker leaned forward in his chair and tented his fingers together, his elbows on his knees. His hands were pointing directly at Trent, which made him wonder if somehow he had become their primary suspect.
Here he had been, feeling all too proud of himself for getting out of the assault charge thanks to his connections in the law enforcement community, when in reality he was being looked at in relation to a homicide. His fingers went numb.
“About you and Ms. Kendra Spade... What would you say is the nature of your relationship?” the detective asked.
Trent was surprised by the direct question; up until now, he’d been asking himself the same. “Baker, you know me and women... They’re a mystery.”
Baker chuckled. He leaned back slightly, as though he was taking some of the pressure off in his questioning. “You’re not the only one who doesn’t understand them, Lockwood. I’m just lucky to be married to one hell of a woman. I don’t know how you still do the dating thing.” Baker sat back and scratched his chin. “I know you and Kendra probably haven’t defined the nature of your relationship, clearly, but would you say that you are friends?”
“We haven’t slept together, if that’s what you’re asking.” Trent was careful to avoid mentioning the fact that, yes, they were definitely more than friends.
Baker nodded. “Would you say that you’re a friend of mine, Lockwood?”
Trent nervously ran his hand over the back of his neck, as though the dead lawyer wasn’t the only one who had once felt a noose. “I’ve called you a friend, and I’ve helped you through more sticky situations than either one of us can probably count.”
Baker smiled. “You’re definitely right there. So, given the nature of our friendship, if I were to ask you some questions about Kendra, would you be able to tell me the truth?”
Trent couldn’t imagine what Baker would ask that would compromise anything he had going on with Kendra. There was definitely nothing to lie about, other than their rendezvous in the hotel room. Trent wasn’t one to kiss and tell.
“I have nothing to hide from you, Baker. You know how I work.”
Baker dropped his hands back down to his knees. “You know I’m glad to hear that.”
“Fire away.” Trent wasn’t sure he was really ready for whatever Baker was going to ask, but sometimes it was just better to get it over with.
“Well, like I said, some new findings came to light about the deaths.” Baker shifted in the chair. “We did find some spent brass near the secretary’s body, and while the fingerprint analysis won’t be coming back for at least a week, based on some other items we found in relation to the murders... I have a feeling those fingerprints are going to be Kendra’s.”
It’s impossible.
Kendra wouldn’t have had anything to do with those murders. First of all, there hadn’t been enough time. Not only that, but he couldn’t imagine Kendra being able to take down the lawyer and then hang him. Yet, she had a family whose livelihood was at stake. If it came out that STEALTH actually did have a role in the senator’s wife’s death and his daughter’s kidnapping, it would be the end of them.
Maybe she had known Trent was following her and had brought him to the scene of the crimes on purpose to hide something she or one of her family members had done. It was a nearly perfect alibi.
Up to this point, he had thought Kendra was sticking around to help him find the senator out of the goodness of her heart. However, when he really thought about it, there were few people in his life who did anything out of the kindness of their heart. Had his attraction to her blinded him to her ulterior motive?
On the other hand, she very well may have simply touched the casing when she had found the body. It could have been an accident. He was struggling to make heads or tails of what little the detective had told him. “If her fingerprints are on that brass, there are explanations for it.”
Baker’s face pinched into a scowl. “That was my first thought, too. She doesn’t seem like the kind who would kill anyone in cold blood.” Baker paused. “That being said, though, did you notice if she was wearing acrylic nails? Gray or silver?”
Trent thought about holding her hands. They hadn’t done it much, but he could remember her fingernails against his skin. “I think she does, why?”
“Do you remember if she was missing one? Or if one had been broken?”
Trent shook his head. “I can’t say I ever looked at her hands that closely.”
“Well, the next time you see her, you’d be doing me a favor if you paid attention.”
“So, I’m assuming you found a broken fingernail on scene?” Trent asked.
Baker nodded. “Not just on scene. We actually found a woman’s acrylic nail embedded in the lawyer’s neck, almost directly below the rope that was used to string him up. All we have to do is match up that nail and we will know the name of our murderer.”
Chapter Seventeen
Kendra was rarely annoyed when faced with the fact that others were just as busy and manically scheduled as she was. However, after she had been sitting in the criminal defense attorney’s office for more than an hour and a half, she was about to lose it. The woman had set this meeting, and yet after Kendra had checked in with the secretary in the lobby, the woman had disappeared and she hadn’t seen anyone again. It was as if she had been forgotten or intentionally waylaid.
It reminded her that when she got home, she would need to send in a plant to her office to see if things ran more smoothly. If people were being treated like she was here, heads would start rolling.
Taking out her phone, she called the attorney, but there was no answer. She called the office number, and the phone rang not far from her in the lobby at the secretary’s desk.
Screw this.
She hung up. Something was going on. She could feel it. If she stumbled onto another crime scene, she would definitely go crazy. Looking at the secretary’s desk, all she could think about was the Bradshaw office where she’d first seen the woman’s high-heeled shoes and known she was dead.
Her stomach churned.
She wasn’t sitting here for another minute. She blew out of the office, anger and a slight trepidation pushing her forward and out of the damned place.
Getting into the truck, she thought about Trent. If personal favors had been called in, he would’ve been out of jail by now. Yet, he hadn’t reached out. That had to mean he was still inside. And, if he was still inside, he was going to be there overnight.
Hopefully, he was okay. Jail could be a rough place, a world where people were frightened and vulnerable. When shame and isolation came into the picture, people turned either inward or outward. And when they turned outward, it often came out in the form of violence. While she was certain Trent wouldn’t be the one causing fights behind bars, she held no doubts he would defend himself if put in a situation that required him to. On that point, he was definitely more than capable of taking down any opponent. He was her protector.
She needed someone as strong-willed as she was. She would just walk all over a weaker man. Mild-mannered men could be sweet and kind, but she knew that while they treated her extraordinarily well, they also bored her.
If this, the time she spent with Trent, was any indicator of what was to come between them, she would definitely never be bored. She smirked, and the silly reaction to the thought made her shake her head. While she needed a challenge, what woman wanted that in a relationship? What was wrong with her?
She’d always thought she was the kind of woman who valued stability and reliability when it came to relationships. Yet she had never thought it was possible to have those things in combination with a man who kept her on her toes. In her experience up to now, all men were either one or the other. Perhaps she had found the last unicorn, or the Holy Grail of men. Or she had found a man who was her perfect fit...someone who perfectly complemented everything she was while allowing her to be her authentic self.
A message popped up on her phone from Tripp. It read, Talked to arresting officer. Didn’t make a lot of progress. Keep trying. Making follow-up calls.
She wasn’t overly pleased, but at least it was something. The thought of going to the jail to get Trent popped into her head again, but if Tripp hadn’t made any real progress, there was no way her showing up would likely have any sort of sway. It was better if she just went back to her hotel.
Besides, as much as she liked Trent and could imagine having him in her life, he had a girlfriend. She could leave his rescuing up to that woman.
Then again, that was assuming Tripp was to be trusted. She had only just met him, while she and Trent had been talking so much—he’d even admitted he’d been ghosted. Maybe Tripp had misunderstood or something. There were a thousand things that could have gone askew. Or maybe Tripp really was telling the truth.
If and when she saw Trent again, she wasn’t sure she would give him what for, or if it was best just to pretend like she didn’t know about another woman and let things lie.
She made her way back to her hotel, picking up some Taco Bell along the way. She loved Taco Bell. It wasn’t something she would admit to a lot of people, but it was her comfort food. There was nothing better than one of their quesadillas on a bad day.
Her hotel room was quiet. Everything was as she had left it; her suitcase was in the closet beside the white robe. She sat on the couch staring at the robe as she ate her food. She would never look at a hotel bathrobe the same way again. Actually, even though she was more than sure that she wouldn’t sleep with Trent, she’d have to make a point of taking that robe home with her. It could be the one positive reminder of Montana.
Though this trip had gone wrong in every way, when she glanced out the window, she was met with the river view. She realized she had started to love this place. It was becoming a respite.
Finishing her food, she undressed and stepped into the shower. The water ran down her back, relaxing her. Right now, everything was in the air. Yet, the next time she talked to AJ, she would be able to tell him things were going their way. Though there were no definitive outcomes with the litigation, she had hope her family was in the clear. How could the senator complain about his character being defamed when he was jumping bail?
Getting out of the shower, she put on the white robe. It carried the faint sense of Trent. The smell was intoxicating, and she closed her eyes as she took him deep into her lungs.
There were many scientific papers on how true desire could be tested based on the level of attraction one felt to a potential mate’s scent. In fact, she had even seen it on one of her nerd shows—one of a number of documentaries and YouTube videos about science and technology—on which they performed a blind scent test in which women were asked to rate the scents according to level of attraction. The results were intriguing.
Though the olfactory senses were incredible and one of the best when it came to inducing and recalling memories, it was hard to know if that particular skill set was a blessing or curse when it came to Trent.
Regardless, she doubted she would be close enough to him again to delve too deeply. For now, she could just enjoy this moment, this place and the aroma.
She lay down on the bed and, closing her eyes, she let her fingers lace over her damp skin at the edge of the neck of the robe.
Her robe drifted open. It delicately grazed against her leg, reminding her of Trent’s fingers. She could have lived in that moment forever. She untied her robe and let it fall the rest of the way open. Her fingers moved down to her center, and she gasped as she thought about Trent and how he knew how to touch her even in her fantasies. Maybe she couldn’t have him in real life, but he could be hers in her dream world. If anything, at least in her dream world there would be no drama and no other women to compete against.
She smiled as she thought about him moving down between her thighs on the bed. She could just about imagine how his tongue would feel on her. Damn, it would’ve been nice to know how that felt in real life so she could have had that memory to pull from. Maybe he was the kind to run figure eights with his tongue, or perhaps he was the kind who buried his face. She had to guess he was the latter. He was not the shy type. He seemed like a giver.
Her fingers moved faster, and she could think of nothing but him and how he would have felt pressing inside her.
As she grew close, there was a knock on the door. She had no idea whom it could be; the previous time it had been AJ. He was the last person she wanted to see right now, especially since she’d finally found a few minutes to herself.
She tied her robe closed, making sure she was properly covered before she moved toward the door and looked out the peephole.
Standing outside in the hallway was Trent. She gasped as she threw open the door in excitement. “What are you doing here? Did they let you out already?”
He chuckled. “What, did you want them to keep me there longer?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. I just thought that you’d be there at least overnight. Your brother said he tried to get you out but he couldn’t make it happen.”
A shadow fell over Trent’s face. He couldn’t have possibly known what his brother had told her. Yet he looked guiltier than ever. As much as she wanted to avoid the topic of him having another relationship, addressing it seemed inevitable. If they were going to move forward, even as friends, she needed to know some truths.
“Come on in.” She motioned him inside, careful to pull her robe tighter as he walked by her.
He stepped inside, and she let the door close behind him.
“Thanks.” He shuffled his feet as though he was just as uncomfortable as she was at the moment.
If he just told her the truth without her prompting, at least they could move forward as friends. But, if she had to pry out information from him, she wasn’t sure he was the man she had assumed.
“How did you get out?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly as she thought of how hard it had been watching him being arrested and loaded into the cop car.
