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Setting his cup down on the counter, Royce opened the freezer door and pulled out a sleeve of bagels. “Want one?”
Briar nodded. As much as she wasn’t a breakfast person, she was tired enough today to need the energy. Also, she needed some kind of distraction from those broad shoulders stretching the bounds of that sweatshirt and those dreams. Down, girl. It was possible a toasted bagel wouldn’t do the job.
“Bishop didn’t find much else, not yet. He’s going to try and access Jakes’s financials today, dig further into his personnel records,” Royce continued, pulling the bagels apart and putting one in the toaster. “He’ll let us know what he finds. Apparently, Jakes is locked up pretty tight.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
She took another sip of her coffee, knowing it wasn’t going to be nearly enough.
“Have you heard back from Klay yet?”
“Not yet, but I didn’t expect to this early.”
It was, she realized, just six-thirty, and they hadn’t gone to bed until after midnight. Out the window above the kitchen table, she saw the sky was just beginning to turn pink. Maybe the sun would come out today.
Royce’s cell phone vibrated. He glanced over at where it sat on the counter and didn’t answer.
“It’s just my sister, she can wait.”
The ringing stopped, only to start up again seconds later. Royce rolled his eyes and picked up the phone just as the toaster popped up the bagels.
“Yes, Raine? What do you need this early?”
Briar couldn’t hear the words, but she could hear the tiny sound of Raine King’s voice. Not wanting to wait, she gingerly pulled the bagel slices out of the toaster and slid the other one in. A butter dish sat on the counter, and she quickly buttered the bagel and set it on one of the small plates Royce had gotten out.
“Are you certain? When was this? And she’s with you?” He was nodding as if his sister could see him. “Just a sec.” He pressed mute and turned his attention to Briar. “Raine picked up a girl last night. She’s injured and frightened and a possible witness.”
Briar’s heart started to race. “Where is she?” she demanded around a bite of the toasted bagel.
“At Raine’s. She refused to go to the hospital. Raine says she’s really scared, doesn’t want to go to the police.”
“Can we go to her?” asked Briar, shoving the rest of the bagel into her mouth. And had Raine told her visitor Royce was the police? She suspected not.
Could they have a witness to what had happened in Tor’s house? Briar didn’t dare to hope too much.
Royce unmuted his phone. “Raine, we can be there in five minutes.” There was a pause and Briar knew Raine was asking who we was. “Me and Briar Nilson,” Royce said.
The other bagel popped up and Briar shot Royce a questioning look. He shook his head and left the kitchen, returning just a few minutes later in jeans instead of sweatpants, his car keys hanging from a finger.
Briar held out the bagel she’d prepared.
“Thanks,” he said, taking it from her.
Royce drove to Raine’s house, half the bagel sitting on a paper towel on his thigh, while he munched on the other half. Briar stared out the window and catalogued the changes in Rexville since the last time she’d seen it. While it still had a somewhat neglected air, there were signs of new life.
She spotted a hair salon that hadn’t been around when she’d been a teen. The Rexville Café was open and looked busy. Many of the businesses along Main Street—which was also the highway through town—had been painted in cheery colors, and some had lush flower boxes sitting outside of them. And the city park, which in her day had been an abandoned plot of weeds and a swing set, now had modern play equipment, a large gazebo—possibly for performances—and a multiuse sports field.
“Rexville looks… better,” she commented.
Royce nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “It does. I was surprised, too. Daisy Stone is the driving force behind most of it. She pretty much decided not to let Rexville die and is pulling the rest of us along. Keeping Rexville alive is the reason we decided to base our business here.”
“I’m impressed. I don’t remember Daisy.”
“She’s a few years younger than us, maybe.” he flicked the turn signal. “Raine lives just down this street.”
Raine King lived in an older, smaller-than-typical farmhouse on the edge of town, about a mile from the library. Her driveway was several hundred feet long and ended in front of a red barn where a Jeep was parked.
“What does Raine do?” Briar asked. She knew nothing about Royce’s sister.
