Haversham walked her to the door. “Who do you think killed Matthew, Jane? Rook? His cousin?”
“I don’t know. But at this point, Rook is our best suspect.”
“Agreed. Bring him in. Alive,” he warned. “Dead men don’t answer questions.”
“I know. That’s why I told my uncle to let me handle things.”
“Good God. I don’t want to hear anymore. Go get our bad guy.”
“Yes, sir.”
If only wishes were that easy.
Chapter 45
“Are you sure you’re okay?”Raine asked for the fifth time that night.
Nearly a week had passed, and Jane was no closer to finding her suspects or answers than she’d been Saturday during her meeting with Grimshaw and Haversham. Forensics had been going through the Castle Capital files with a magnifying glass, but getting through the company’s lawyers for more detailed accounts did not look likely to happen this century.
As much as Jane wanted to focus on the home invasions, she had nothing new. So she’d tried to update a few other cases but found little purchase in those either. Her attention remained focused on the Bednareks. And on who might have killed Matthew.
At least the police working Matthew’s case seemed smart and capable. They asked good questions and were intent on finding out who killed such a sterling agent.
Angry at his senseless death all over again, Jane snapped, “I’mnotokay. I’m tired, annoyed, and I feel like I’m stuck in quicksand. I want to find my home invasion killer, and I’m getting nowhere.”
Raine commiserated. “Hey, I’m there with you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I’m stuck in my HR job where everyone is acting like nothing’s wrong. But a man is missing. And they’re all lying.”
“So do something about it.”
Rains snorted. “Well, I could go around punching people in the face and shooting out their kneecaps. When they wonder why, I’ll just tell them all I’m an all-knowing soothsayer. An avenging goddess.”
“First of all, no one is telling you to shoot or punch people. Secondly, soothsayers were considered fortunetellers. Not goddesses.”
“Well, I am pretty amazing. My last few dates have called me a goddess.”
“Not that amazing.”
“Want me to get the truth out of your criminals when you find them? Be nice to me.”
“Or what? You’ll shoot me in the kneecap?” Jane scoffed.
“Ah, there you are. You sound much better than you did earlier. My job here is done. See you later, slacker.” Raine danced out of Jane’s apartment, slamming the door behind her.
Jane sighed. She’d been doing her best to stay focused. Life was easier without a lot of heavy feelings, and grief weighed far more than she wanted to carry.
She’d done her best to placate Jenn with a lunch earlier in the week, where she admitted to missing Matthew but that it probably wouldn’t have worked out between them anyway.
Though in the deepest recesses of Jane’s mind, she’d imagined herself and Matthew as a couple, spending their days at work and their evenings enjoying each other’s company, sharing work stories while enjoying a lovely sunset with wine Matthew carefully selected.
Silly fantasies that had no place in the real world, where conspiracies and criminals ran amuck.
They hadn’t tracked down TS Cooper, but they had found the body of TS Worley in a hotel by the airport that had been paid for amonth. Worley’s special assignment hadn’t been approved through any channel, though the poor man had likely thought it legitimate.
A paper copy of his temporary duty assignment in Atlanta had been found in the hotel room, where his body had started to smell so badly that hotel cleaning staff had finally invaded his privacy and found him shot in the head.
