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“What’re you doing here, Radcliff?” His feet planted, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I came to talk to Leah about Deidre. I want to find the bastard who killed my wife.”
“It’s not your place to talk to Leah or anyone else attached to this case. That’s my job.”
“No way will I be staying on the sidelines. Deidre was my wife. We might have had our problems, but I’m sure, in the end, we would have worked it out.”
Leah studied the tall, broad-shouldered man, wondering if he were lying or simply delusional.
Alex shook his head. “Are you armed?”
“Sure. I always carry.”
Alex’s hand settled on his gun. The holster strap was unclipped. “Step away now. Let me handle Leah.”
“No way, Morgan. Deidre’s murderer is my responsibility. I’m her husband.”
“If you don’t start moving now, I’ll lock you up. And that’s not going to do anyone any good. I know you’ve got a tough reelection coming this fall, and I sure would hate to see you lose your job.”
“You’d really arrest me?”
“Yes, I would.” Conviction strengthened the words as Alex nodded to the gun holstered at Tyler’s side.
Tyler clenched and unclenched his hands. “I’m trying to find out who killed my wife.”
“I got people working on Deidre’s case around the clock. Go home, Tyler. Do yourself a favor and let me handle this. Go home now.”
Tyler glanced back at Leah, his gaze narrowing. “She knows more than she’s saying. I can feel it in my gut.”
Leah held Tyler’s gaze, her anger over this entire situation rising. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Leave,” Alex ordered.
Tyler looked back at Alex. “I’ll be checking in with you.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Alex stood his ground, watching as Tyler got in his pickup truck and drove away, the wheels squealing as he accelerated.
She glanced at her phone and the 9-1-1 call she’d never put through. “He told you he had a gun. He told you he’s on some kind of hunt. You just let him go.”
Alex faced her. “I did.”
Emotions burned hotter, and her voice was louder and angrier than she’d intended. “He could have killed Deidre.”
He seemed to chew on unspoken words, wondering if he should share his thoughts with her, before he rejected the notion. “I’m not here to talk about Tyler. I’m here to talk about you.”
His noncommittal response didn’t dampen her temper. She’d guarded her emotions so closely for so long, and now her anger threatened to spill over. “What’s that mean?”
“It means I know about your past. I know what Philip Latimer did to you.”
Her temper reared, pulled at the leash. “Wow, Deidre’s husband is tracking me down and you’ve dug into my past. That’s the kind of thing Philip would have done.”
He shoved a hand in his pocket, seeming to chew on a few more less-pleasant words. “I didn’t do it out of morbid curiosity. I spoke to Deidre’s sister. In our conversation, Philip Latimer’s name came up.”
“What? She must be wrong. How would Deidre know Philip?”
“Deidre’s been a cop with the Nashville Police Department for twelve years.”
“I know.” Pieces she’d never thought to connect scurried together and locked into place. She thought back to when they’d first met. Deidre had approached her. Deidre had invited her out to coffee. Into the running group. She’d initiated it all. Nausea had her stomach contracting. “She worked with Philip.”
“She didn’t work with him, but they knew each other.” His tone remained even, unstirred by emotion. “She ever ask about what happened to you four years ago?”
“No. We didn’t talk about the past.” She rubbed her right thumb over the rough scar on her left palm. Deidre had opened the door to the past a couple of times during a few conversations, but she’d never passed through it. “What do you know?”
“I don’t have the whole picture of Deidre’s past, but I’m putting it together.”
“What do you know about Philip and me?”
“About the attack? I’ve read everything on record.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
She pressed a trembling finger to her temple. “Why should their past connection matter? Philip was killed in a car crash in South Carolina.”
Alex studied her, and she sensed him digging in his heels. “Have you ever read Philip’s autopsy report?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
“I’ve read it. I even had the medical examiner in Nashville review it. I’m not convinced the body was Philip’s.”
For a split second her head spun. This worst-case scenario moment still invaded her dreams and could bring her out of a sound sleep screaming. “What?”
“I’m not sure he’s dead.”
Missing keys. Strange charges on her credit card. The flowers. A flat tire. All the random events lined up into a pattern. She clamored to hang on to control and not panic. “I spoke to the officer in South Carolina several times. She told me he was dead.”
Alex’s cool demeanor didn’t waver. “I’d like to have his body exhumed.”
“What?” Opening that grave was akin to opening a wound that had never healed. She feared what unseen poison festered there.
“I want to test the DNA. I’m not convinced it’s Latimer in the grave.”
Panic gripped her chest. This couldn’t be happening. Had she been fooling herself for the last four years? Had he been there all along, watching from the shadows?
“You’re his legal wife.” His rough tone grated against the words. “You can give me permission.”
Tears streamed from her eyes as she shook her head. “I’m not his wife.”
“Legally, you are.”
“He is dead.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I could get a court order, but that would take time we don’t have. Your anniversary is approaching.”
She raised trembling fingers to her forehead. “Do you think he’s alive?”
“I don’t know. But I know Deidre and Philip worked together. I know he helped her lose evidence in a case involving her sister. Weeks ago she started skimming money. And she was stabbed to death.”
“Oh, God. Why kill her?”
“She knew him. Might have helped him escape. Maybe, after all this time, she decided to turn him in to the cops and clear her conscience.”
All Deidre’s smiles and nice words flashed. Was it all false? Could Deidre have been using her? God, this was her worst nightmare. “I don’t want to open Philip’s grave. I want this nightmare to go away.”
His tone warmed, softened. “Pretending and hoping doesn’t fix anything.”
She glared at him but heard the truth. Before, she’d prayed he’d stop, but of course he never had considered ending his cruel campaign. Hiding wouldn’t stop someone like Philip, who fed on fear. “I’ll sign whatever you want me to sign.”
“Good.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. “Sign this and I’ll submit it to the judge.”
She took the paper from him and dug a pen from her jacket pocket. Without reading it, she scrawled her name, Leah Carson, the tip of her pen digging deeper into the paper on the last few letters.
He accepted the paper and studied the signature. “Did you change your name back to Carson legally?”
“I did. But of course I had his death certificate. Do you want me to write Latimer?”
He frowned and folded the paper, creasing the edges to sharp points with his fingertips. “No. This should do.”
“I pray you’re wrong.”
“So do I.”
She reached for the door handle, anxious to be within the safety of the clinic walls. “Did you know about Deidre’s connection to Philip when you asked me out?”
“I knew Deidre was skimming money. I was investigating her. An
d I knew you were her new best friend. I suspected something but didn’t know for sure.”
“I thought you just came to check on Tracker.”
“My brother Rick agreed to board Tracker here for a few days so I had a reason to meet you.”
“I see.” She rubbed the scar on her palm. She had to give Alex points for honesty, even if the words cut. “Rick said he hated the idea of boarding the dog.”
“He only did it because I asked him to.”
As much as she hated truth’s bite, she preferred it to Philip’s lies. Deidre’s lies.
“This bothers you.”
“Hurts a little to learn this was part of your job. Took a lot for me to agree to a date.”
“I like you. Admire you. That’s the truth.”
“Truth? Excuse me if I’m skeptical. My people-reading skills are the worst.”
“I’ve never lied to you.”
“Just didn’t tell me the whole truth.”
