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“No. Absolutely not. Just take me out back and shoot me if I ever start to do that.”
“I’ll remember that.” Dalton winked. “You just never know. You might change your mind.”
Greer played it off, but this turn in the conversation had her stomach tied up in knots. Way too close to home for her. She didn’t want to discuss their past relationship. “Anyway, as I approached, someone in a hoodie came flying around the corner and shoved Claire. I dove for her and grabbed the back of her coat with one hand and the railing with the other. It stopped her from falling headlong down the stairs. The hoodie guy bolted.”
All the humor left Dalton’s face. He grabbed the full coffee mug and gestured for her to follow him to the couch. “Do you think it was on purpose? Or just someone being negligent?”
Greer shrugged, then sat down at one end. Her ribs ached as she tucked her legs and wrapped her arms around them, settling back into the cushion. “At first, Claire thought so. She was sure of it, but when I said we should call the polizei, she backed off and said it must have been someone in a rush and she just got in the way.”
Dalton sat on the couch, too, this time a little bit closer to the middle, closer to her. “What do you think? Was it someone in a rush?”
“She was pushed.” It came out of her mouth before she thought about it, but she knew it was the truth. “Someone wanted her dead or, at the very least, injured.”
Dalton’s eyebrows jacked up to his hairline. “You didn’t mention this earlier. Someone ended up killing Moore, and then someone tried to harm Claire. Someone tried to run me off the road and then hit you and me today. Jesus, what the hell is going on?”
She frowned. “I didn’t even know she was Moore’s wife when I saw her yesterday. But Claire, you, and I have nothing in common. Why would the same someone want to harm the three of us? Kind of blows our theory out of the water.”
“Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong. Maybe the whole reason that someone tried to harm you today—going with the idea they did it on purpose—was because you saw them attempt to hurt Claire. Maybe it isn’t about Moore’s investigation at all, at least not directly.”
Greer’s heart gave a thump against her ribcage. “I hadn’t thought of that. It didn’t seem that important at the time. I didn’t know who she was, thought she was just another hotel guest. It never occurred to me that she was Moore’s wife with the age difference. But that wouldn’t explain why someone tried to run you off the road.”
“No, but I think we need to consider all the options anyway. I’m not loving the idea that someone is trying to hurt you.”
“Ditto,” she scoffed. “Do you really think it’s about Claire? Do you think Moore’s death has something to do with Claire?” It was a possibility.
Dalton’s room phone rang. He walked over and picked it up. “Hello?” He stood silently for a moment. “I’ll come down,” was all he said and then he hung up. Turning to face her, Dalton said, “I have to go meet someone downstairs. Do me a favor, go back to your room and stay there. I don’t want you wandering around here on your own until we have a better idea of what’s going on.”
She wanted to argue with him. Who was he to tell her what to do? But after putting together what happened with Claire and the car almost hitting her today, she had no intention of leaving her room by herself.
“Sure, I’ll go back to my room. I have to start writing up the report anyway. At this point, the police are still saying Dennis Moore had a heart attack, so that’s what I will put in my preliminary report.”
She turned and headed toward the door. “I’ll text you later if I hear anything,” she said over her shoulder. He nodded, and she walked out.
Once in her room, she sat down heavily on the sofa. What she hadn’t said to Dalton was she knew her boss wouldn’t let this go. All these events meant there were mitigating circumstances, and they wouldn’t pay out unless they absolutely had to. She just had to determine how to make that happen. She shuddered at the thought. They were going to have to keep investigating. It was the only hope to get Dalton the money.
But did she know what to look for? She was an investigator, but not for murder. On the other hand, she knew about cars and racing. Maybe that was enough. Either way, she was going to have to figure something out. There was no way she was leaving now. Not with so many unanswered questions. She was determined to get to the bottom of things.
Why? That voice in the back of her mind was asking her. Why did she feel the need to help Dalton so much? Was it because she still cared? Maybe. But that wasn’t all of it. A small kernel of an idea was lurking. One she wasn’t even ready to voice yet but it was there, and its presence was a driving force. That coupled with her feelings for Dalton, and her need to fix the past. Everything culminated in solving Moore’s death and getting Dalton that money. She was going to do it even if it meant risking her life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Mr. Hughes,” Detective Haas said as Dalton walked into the bar area. It was empty save for the detective and the same uniformed officer that had accompanied him yesterday. They were seated at a table in the far corner of the room. “Please join us.”
Dalton didn’t have a choice, but he immediately wanted to turn tail and run. His back was on fire and his head was pounding. He wasn’t up for a sparring match with Detective Haas. He needed to be on his game with the other man, and he just didn’t have it in him at the moment.
Biting back a sigh, he sat in the proffered chair. Part of him wondered if this conversation would be better conducted in his room further away from prying eyes.
He was about to suggest it when Detective Haas said, “I don’t wish to disturb you. I understand you had an incident of some kind earlier today and were hurt, but I’m here to see the widow, and before I do, I have a couple more questions for you.”
Good luck with that. Claire was probably passed out by now. “What can I do for you?”
“We received the autopsy results for Mr. Moore. He did, indeed, die of a heart attack.”
Dalton didn’t move. He’d been suckered into relaxing at this news before. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. “I see.” He’d heard that earlier today, but now it was official.
“We are waiting for toxicology results,” Detective Haas continued. “It appears Mr. Moore was quite healthy, so the heart attack is a bit of a mystery.”
Dalton wasn’t sure how to react to the speculative nature of the detective’s statement, so he remained silent.
