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“Which means Kerr either had it all removed or—”
“Or the other eyes and ears weren’t devices. They were on a person,” I said, looking at Irish, who was typing something on his keyboard faster than Ali had been earlier.
“There’s a connection, I’m sure of it,” he mumbled.
“Between?”
“The housekeeper and either Kerr or Hennessey.”
It seemed unlikely to me. I looked at Buck. “I need to find that damn safe-deposit box, and in order to do that, I need to go to New York and meet with Barb’s lawyer.”
“Have you spoken with him?” asked Deck.
“Not since the first time.”
“I’ll check with the medical examiner and see if the death certificate is available yet. If it is, then I agree. If not, I’d recommend waiting.”
“Thanks, Decker,” I said before he picked his phone up from the table and walked out to the porch.
“Stella, can I speak with you alone for a minute?” asked Buck.
“Of course.” I stood and followed him into the bedroom.
“If we go to New York City, this is how it’ll go down. We’ll do everything we can to get there and back within my forty-eight-hour time frame.”
“Okay.”
“If necessary, I’ll fly back to Colorado, set foot on the ranch, and turn around and come right back.”
“I’m sure that I—”
“Don’t say it.”
“I just meant—”
“Stella.” Buck stepped forward and wrapped one hand around my waist while he cupped my cheek with the opposite hand.
“Okay, I get it. I’m sorry.”
“Call him.”
22
Buck
“Hey, Buck?” Ali called from the other room.
“I’m okay,” said Stella, waving me away.
“Be right back.”
“What’s up?”
Like Stella had waved me out of the bedroom, Ali waved me toward the front door. Irish, Deck, and Cope were head to head over something on Warrick’s laptop.
“You can head inside for a minute,” I told Ink, who was pacing back and forth on the porch. Once the door closed behind him, I waited for Ali to say something.
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then put her hand on the porch railing.
