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Logan opened the door. The detective looked inside. He grabbed an oversized suitcase and tossed it across the room. What he discovered hiding behind the luggage shocked everyone. Sitting on the floor, wearing nothing but his underwear, Brandon blinked in surprise.
“Come out and meet Detective Lexington,” Logan said.
In an instant, Brandon straightened his back and stood up.
“What the hell are you doing in my suite?” He blinked, then focused on Elle. “You.” His jaw dropped. “Where’s Nicki?”
“At the morgue by now.” The detective’s tone was harsh.
“No.” Brandon dropped to his knees and wept like a child, sobbing uncontrollably. His muttering was impossible to understand.
What if he clammed up and the police got nothing from him? Could she convince him to talk? She had to try. Elle knelt beside him. She cringed at the red welts on his back. Softly, she whispered, “It’s all over now. You’ll feel better after you talk to the police.”
“No. I won’t. I knew we’d be caught and should’ve run while we could.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Nicki was so sure that if she killed you, we could close the deal with Logan without anyone figuring out who shot you.”
“She made you get in the closet?” Elle asked, barely holding her disgust at bay.
“Only if I did something bad. Sometimes I do stupid things and make her very angry.” He started sobbing again.
“That’s enough,” the detective said.
Elle understood that no one had read him his rights, so she reluctantly stopped talking. A uniformed officer came, lifted Brandon to his feet. While the detective mirandized Brandon, he put on his pants, a shirt, and shoes. Then an officer handcuffed Brandon.
Relief washed over her in waves.
“Who killed Nicki?” he asked.
“I did,” Elle said.
The detective looked at her and then at Logan. “You’ll have to stick around for a few more days. I’ll get you back to Texas before Christmas. You might have to come back for the trial, but I have a feeling Mr. Ethridge is going to be very forthcoming.”
Logan and Elle stayed with Detective Lexington, his men, and his prisoner until Brandon was loaded into the back of a police car and hauled away from the castle.
“You know what I’d like?” She leaned into Logan, taking time to enjoy the beautiful day.
“Me?” His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer.
“You’re wearing a sling. I’m not making your injury worse. I was thinking about another strawberry shake.”
Logan snuggled her against him. “I can take this sling off, but you’ll have to be gentle with me.”
She laughed at h
is joke. This trip had far surpassed her expectations. Maybe her grandmother had been right. Love happens when the time is right.
Eleven
Elle helped Nan put a couple of bows on the Christmas tree. Not that she needed help. Nan had already hung every decoration that Elle and Eric had made, along with bulbs, bows, lights, and tinsel. She’d been given the job because her pacing had gotten on her grandmother’s nerves.
“It’s beautiful,” Elle said as she backed across the room. “What’s in the big box?”
“None of your business.” Nan moved to stand between Elle and the present under the tree. “You’ll have to wait until Christmas morning.”
Elle heard a noise. Logan had dropped her off at Nan’s before he joined Eric for lunch. Elle had wanted to go and voice her opinion, but Logan had won the argument. This was something he wanted to do alone. “Logan’s back.”
