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“That limits the pool considerably,” Detective Haas mused. “Brian does not inherit?—”
“But he just found out that Moore changed his will after his death, so he thought he was going to inherit the money. I don’t think that takes him off the list.”
Detective Haas paused. “That is true. But did the other three gentlemen at the table know they inherited?”
She thought back to the outburst about the will when they were sitting at the table in the garage. “Obviously Goodman knew. I’m not sure about the other two. I don’t think they knew, though. Or at least Bainbridge didn’t. Lyle is harder to read.”
“Well, this has been enlightening. I will do my best to get you copies of the files.”
She gave him her email address and then ended the call. Staring down at her food, she picked up a fry and started to nibble on it. There was still something nagging at her, like a pebble in her shoe. The more she tried to latch on to it, the more it faded. She gave a mental shrug and finished her meal. Then she signed the bill and headed back to her room.
Frank had given her the final okay to call it good once she’d mentioned she was going to get the remaining police reports. She walked across the courtyard and into the other building. Her ribs still hurt from the attempt on her life, and she was exhausted, so she stood and waited for the elevator.
It finally dinged, and the doors opened slowly. “Yes, I’ve got the money.”
She knew that voice.
“I told you I would have it by the end of the week. No, I won’t get the rest until the will clears probate, but the advance that Goodman gave me…” The man on the phone looked up, and their gazes locked.
That thing she couldn’t quite remember. The first night she was at the hotel. The man. Desperate for money. Fingers dancing on the bar. Agitated. Residue in his glass.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage. She glanced at the stairs.
“I’ll call you back,” Lyle said as he stepped off the elevator and put his phone in his pocket. “You know, don’t you?”
She blinked. “I’m sorry?” Her voice squeaked. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’ll just take the stairs.” She tried to push past him, but he grabbed her arm.
“You know. It’s written all over your face.”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let go of me.” She tried for indignant, but it came out too breathy. She jerked her arm to break his hold, but he refused to let go.
Unexpectedly, he yanked her to him and wrapped an arm around her neck. Breathing became difficult. She started to scream, but he muffled it with his hand over her mouth and nose. She clawed at his arm, at his face. She managed to scratch him, but it wasn’t enough to make him release her. Her vision was shrinking. She was losing consciousness.
Damn. She should’ve put it together sooner. Now it was too late.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dalton swerved to avoid a tiny car that pulled out in front of him. The little car beeped at him, but he didn’t care. Jack was getting away from him. His cell rang. He punched the button on his steering wheel to answer. “Detective Haas?”
“Mr. Hughes, I?—”
“There’s no time to explain. I’m following Jack Roundtree. He left the track, and we’re on the winding road that runs parallel to the track. I don’t know what it’s called.”
Detective Haas’s voice changed. “What’s going on?” he demanded.
“Jack Roundtree loosened the screws. He’s running. He knows that I know it’s him. Triangulate my phone and find us. I’m not letting him get away.”
“Dalton, let him go. Don’t do anything stupid. We’ll find him.”
“There’s no way I’m letting this fucker out of my sight. He tried to run me off the road, and he tried to hit Greer.”
Detective Haas yelled something to someone else in German but then came back on the line. “We’re on the way to you. I know the road you’re talking about. Please back off and let us get him. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”
“The only person who is going to get hurt is Roundtree when I get a hold of him.” He jabbed the button to hang up. Jack veered around another compact car and passed it fast, then disappeared around the blind curve. Dalton pulled out to pass but another car was coming at him. He had to swerve back. Cursing, he rounded the bend and passed the car as soon as he could. Jack had put more distance between them. Dalton put the gas pedal to the floor, and the SUV leaped ahead, but he had to slam on the brakes when a tractor pulled out ahead of him just around the next curve.
“Fuck!” he yelled as he hit the steering wheel. By the time he cleared the tractor, Jack Roundtree was nowhere in sight.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
