Page 38 of Love At Peace

Even darker thoughts about Veronica surfaced, and I hated that my ex-wife still had the power to piss me off. She was supposed to be a figure of my past. A lesson hard learned that I would do better without women in my life, but it seemed that lesson hadn’t stuck yet.

The parallels of being manipulated, namely in the way that I was kept in the dark, bothered me.

But I tried to combat it in the only way I knew how.

Marty came by the ranch when we broke for lunch in one of the barns. He’d been called out to pick up one of the young ranch hands who’d gotten too drunk in town and thought he could pull off a hit-and-run with a stop sign.

“Too many cameras all over the place nowadays to get away with something like that,” Marty said as he ushered the hungover young man into the back of his cruiser. He shut the door, and I bet with the heat making the car nice and toasty, the idiot would be passed out for a nap any second.

“Which makes me wonder how Nevaeh hid for so long,” I told him. “And how no one knows where David Kenning is.”

He shook his head. “No more mystery about that one.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned his butt against the cruiser. “I found him.”

“Oh yeah?”

Gavin walked up and stood next to me, curious. “Where’s he been?”

“He went back to Chicago for a day or two, but getting that intel was like pulling teeth. He’s got a lot of friends looking out for him.”

Damn lawyers. Too many of them were corrupt like that, enabled to skirt the laws when they broke them.

“And I got Jerry to sit down long enough to explain a few things.”

“Was David at that apartment when Eric was hit? Or fell?” Gavin asked.

“No clue.”

I grunted. “I thought you said you’d cleared up some of the mystery.”

“Partly. Jerry can’t confirm when David actually left that apartment. David convinced him to not worry about the faulty lock on the door, saying it would be easier for him—and his ‘roommate’—to get in and out.”

“And that roommate was Nevaeh?” I guessed.

“Maybe. When I pressured him to say if Nevaeh was living with David there, he clammed up and didn’t say anything. And there’s not exactly a paper trail I can follow. He never had David sign a lease. Nevaeh either. Jerry operates with things on the downlow, with supposed understandings and verbal agreements rather than legitimate lease documents signed by both parties.”

I shook my head, annoyed.

“Well, she seemed like she was familiar with going there,” Gavin said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “And she walked into that apartment and slammed the door shut. Like she lived there. Hell, she had to have been staying with or visiting that asshole somewhere at some time if he knocked her up.”

“But it doesn’t seem like she’s there anymore,” Marty said. “I had Jerry show me around the place, since it could still be a crime scene if we assume Eric didn’t just trip or fall on his own. When he showed me around, that apartment was empty. That one and the one next to it that wasn’t in good condition. If Nevaeh was there once, she’s not anymore. Him either. I haven’t seen a sign of David in town all week.”

“Maybe he got another rental car,” Gavin guessed.

“And there’s no cameras at that building? Surveillance or security?” I asked, eager to know what happened to Eric and if David was a danger to Heather. “Anything?”

“Nothing,” Marty replied. He sighed as he studied me. “If you do see your niece, though, I would like to speak with her again. Something isn’t right about how Eric was down there for a whole night, in and out of consciousness. He can’t answer any questions until his memory returns a little bit, so in the meantime, I’ve got to ask around elsewhere.”

I nodded, promising I’d give him an update.

Since our last argument when she slammed the door in my face, I had seen hide nor hair of my niece. Before, I would dismiss her absence as another episode of her being a flaky, dramatic teenager prone to dashing off. Now that I knew she was pregnant, I worried about her not being prepared to give that baby its best chance. I’d already searched for ways to help. Programs for homeless women. Services for prenatal visits. Even adoption agencies, if she wanted to go that route. Whatever she decided, that was her call, but she couldn’t be this irresponsible about someone else’s life and wellbeing.

It wasn’t long until I heard from Marty again.

He called me a couple of hours after he’d left with the hungover ranch hand.

“Hey, Roarke?”