“No.”
She blinked. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he fall overboard here when there isn’t any kind of hazard to cause him to fall? Was that a lie too? My brother didn’t actually fall offthe boat? His friends—or whoever they were—didn’t try to kill him? Good grief, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“I’ve been asking myself those questions ever since the Jake Randolph disappearance. It’s never made sense to me that there would have been any kind of accident in this exact spot. Thirty feet away, all around us, sure. Plenty of debris there. But right here? Nothing. Now, knowing that the person using the Randolph alias is your brother, and that he’s alive and well, what do you think did or did not actually happen that day?”
“Well, I guess it was all made up. After all, he faked his death.”
“And yet, skeletal remains were found out here, by the company your family hired.”
“Yes. And of course we believed it was Esteban. I mean, the skeleton had his clothes, his wallet.” She blinked. “No. Wait. That doesn’t make sense either. Unless…his death was planned from the beginning. The other man, the one we buried. But that would mean Esteban killed him, used him to fake his death. No, no I don’t believe he’d do that. Someone must have tried to kill Esteban. But he managed to swim away. Then, when my family kept searching for his body, he, what, took a corpse from a grave and dressed it like him to make us think it was him?”
Beau stared at her. “And you don’t think you’re a good investigator.”
She shook her head. “I know I’m not. I’m just throwing out potential scenarios and questions. I don’t have any facts and have no idea if anything I’m saying is even feasible or makes sense.”
“It is. It does. My point in bringing you out here is to show you that an accidental drowning doesn’t pass the smell test, not to me. It didn’t back then either, when it first happened, which is why we searched for weeks for Randolph’s body. But given the history of this lake, after so much time passed, without anyevidence to point to foul play we had to accept that he’d drowned and once again the lake refused to give up a body.”
“Makes sense,” she said. “I guess.”
“Just theories. Things to think about.”
He helped her up, and they headed back behind the glass.
They spent the rest of the day hunting pieces of the puzzle. First, they confirmed the path of her brother’s boat—or the man who’d died in his place—recording what they’d found in an electronic notebook Beau had brought. Then they tied the boat to a tree that had fallen into the water along the shore, and Beau took her into some of the tunnels in the area to avoid the larger numbers of people they were starting to see out on the lake on docks they’d passed.
Once they’d emerged from the tunnels, he’d led her to the homes of people he knew well and trusted. Without telling them exactly who she was, other than his investigative assistant, he’d grilled them for information. Little by little they were hearing of more and more sightings of strangers in the area, men Beau and her both believed were working with her brother. And what seemed to be a few actual sightings of her brother as well. She didn’t know what to make of these so-called puzzle pieces. But Beau dutifully recorded everything.
By the time they’d returned to their cabin, showered and devoured the frozen pepperoni pizza they’d baked in the cabin’s oven, they were both exhausted. But at least they weren’t hungry anymore.
As she plopped onto the couch to wait for Beau to set up his laptop with the TV again, she crossed her arms in frustration. Her tired brain didn’t want to have another online meeting with his team to explore what they’d all found out today. And even though her body was just as tired as her mind, she’d have perked right up if given the opportunity to exploreBeau.
Good grief, he was appealing. Smart and kind in spite of him being a cop. And fascinating and sexy and—okay, she was going in circles. She liked everything about him except for his former occupation. Well, that and those rules he was so fond of. And she really, really wanted to find out whether he felt the same heat that she felt every time they casually touched or looked into each other’s eyes. Never in her life could she have imagined being so all-consumingly attracted to a police officer. Or to anyone, really. But Beau, well, he wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met before.
What would her father do if she brought Beau home to meet him? He’d be horrified. Heck, he’d probably threaten to shoot him. But he was all bark and little bite as far as she was concerned. He’d come around eventually if she cared about Beau and he cared about her. Wouldn’t he?
She bit her bottom lip, not nearly as certain as she’d like to be that her father would ever warm up to the idea of her dating a cop. And even though she loved and adored her father, she wasn’t blind. She knew he wasn’t exactly a law-abiding citizen. Okay, not at all a law-abiding citizen. Not as bad as the FBI believed him to be: she’d never think that. But she knew he was bad enough as far as bending and breaking laws that he’d probably go to prison for the rest of his life if he was ever convicted. Would Beau be safe in her world, if her father didn’t agree to her seeing him? She was more than a little worried that she wouldn’t like the honest answer to that question.
Maybe she’d never have to find out the answer. Beau was every bit the kind of man a woman in her position should avoid. Kind of the opposite of a bad boy. That must be why she practically drooled when she was around him. He was forbidden fruit. All she needed to do was take him to bed. Spend one incredibly hot, passionate night in his arms to get him out of her system. He wouldn’t be so deliciously compelling after she’dcrossed that line. He’d be like any other man. Well, not like any other man. Guys as buff, tall, deep-voiced and bedroom-eyed as Beau didn’t come along very often. But they were out there. She’d just move on to one of them. One who wasn’t in law enforcement. All would be right with her world again. Well, after they solved this investigation and—
“Sierra? Sierra? Can you hear me?”
She blinked and realized Beau was waving a hand in front of her face, his brow furrowed with concern. Over his shoulder she could see his officers on the TV ready for the status meeting. And they were looking at her too.
Her face heated. “Sorry. I, uh, kind of zoned out, I guess.”
“You’re really tired, aren’t you? Do you want to go to bed and get some rest? I can handle the meeting without you if you prefer.”
Resting was the last thing she wanted to do in bed tonight. She coughed and cleared her throat. “I, uh—no, thanks. I’d like to find out what’s happening with the investigation.”
He gave her a questioning look. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She swore in Spanish. “Can we get on with this?”
He grinned and sat back against the couch, facing the TV. “She’s fine. Collier, this is your meeting. You want to start?”
Sierra scooted a little closer to Beau, smiling at his questioning look as if she didn’t know why he’d glanced at her. He nodded at something one of the officers was saying. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, then closed them to help relieve the burn. She really was tired.
The couch suddenly dipped, and some kind of cloth brushed lightly against her face. She swatted it away and opened her eyes. Except, she wasn’t on the couch, she was on a bed. And Beau was holding the edge of the comforter, apparently trying to tuck her in.
