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Thorn groaned as he placed his hand on Ryker’s other shoulder. “I don’t know whether to offer you my congratulations or condolences, but welcome to the club.”
“You don’t know that there’s anything serious going on,” scolded Jessica.
“Oh, but I do. He’s got that hopelessly in love with one of you lunatics look on his face. I’d recognize it anywhere,” he said, turning from Ryker and taking Jessica into his arms. “I see it every single morning when I look in the mirror.”
The doctor, realizing he wasn’t going to get the privacy he requested, shot Ryker’s shoulder full of local anesthetic and went digging for the bullet. Ryker, for the most part, was incredibly stoic—or the local he was given was pretty damn strong. Lori didn’t really care. All she cared about was that he was going to be fine, she would get to take him home, and her friends were gathered around her.
“So, does anybody know why Cobain was killed?” asked Christie.
“Other than he was an arrogant prick?” answered Jessica.
“Enough,” Thorn growled at her.
“What? He was. I’m sure people will come up with another excuse, but at the end of the day he was a bastard. His publicist is going to have to pay actors to show up as mourners.”
Fiona laughed. “She isn’t wrong.”
“I think it had to do with ghostwriting…” started Lori.
“It did indeed,” said Slade as he swept in to join them and pulled his wife into his embrace, kissing her soundly.
“So, who cracked first? It was Middleton, wasn’t it?” asked Ryker.
Slade nodded. “Yep. Annette had been ghostwriting for Cobain for years. He did less and less work as the years went by and collected more and more money. Towards the end, he was just supplying Annette with concepts—just a couple of paragraphs—that Annette then turned into bestsellers. Lockwood figured it out and went to Annette with a scheme—they would take out Cobain, put out a final Cobain novel co-written by Annette.”
“Then, let me guess,” said Lori, “Lockwood would introduce Annette as his new protégé, thus avoiding having to abide by Cobain’s deal with his publisher.”
“Bingo,” said Slade.
“How did Middleton get mixed up in it?” asked Ryker.
“Lori really did put the fly in the ointment. Lockwood strangled Cobain down on the dock…”
“Why a vintage typewriter ribbon?” asked Christie.
“He didn’t mean to leave it behind. He meant to keep it as insurance to keep Annette in line. I doubt very much he planned to pay Annette much more than Cobain did. The original plan had been to dispose of Cobain’s body somewhere deep in the ocean where it would never be found. Lockwood had planned for Cobain just to disappear. That way if they ever needed him, they could resurrect him.”
“That’s not half bad as plot devices go,” said Jessica.
“Middleton’s only crime was in helping to cover it up. He was trying to protect Annette. I’m not sure until tonight he realized Lockwood was even involved, or if he did know, I’m pretty sure he thought it was only peripherally. I still think Middleton’s a schmuck, but I do think he did it because he had feelings for Annette.”
When the doctor finally released them—against medical advice in Ryker’s case—they were able to get three rooms at the Bleak Ridge Hotel: Lori’s and two others. The rooms that had been assigned to Lockwood and Cobain were being processed by MCU. Otherwise, the inn was full, so Ryker and Lori headed back to his house.
CHAPTER 18
RYKER
Ryker sat in the passenger seat of his Range Rover for the very first time. He’d never allowed or needed anyone to drive him anywhere in it. But he was happy to share it with Lori. Living in Chicago, she didn’t have a need for a vehicle. Her loft apartment was right in the heart of the city, so she either walked or took public transportation.
They stopped at the hotel to clean out her room so Christie could have it. There was only an informal breakfast and Jessica, Fiona, and Christie had offered to cover for Lori at the signing and make sure readers were taken care of.
“If I know those three, they’ll be there until afternoon signing books and talking to other authors.”
“You can join them if you like.”
“Nope. I think I’ve had my fill of signings for at least a couple of months.”
“You were amazing; you know that, right? I plan to write a big exposé on the whole story and will be casting you as my amazing heroine.”
