AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She might, but it’s hidden in a pair of sunglasses, no wires. I’m talking small, but effective.”
“What if she finds them?”
“Hopefully she’ll just think we or someone else left them there. Several people live in the house, and presumably they have visitors, so why not?”
“It’s sneaky.”
“Very. But necessary.”
“You’re right,” she agreed as she’d felt Aunt Vera was holding back, that she knew more than she was saying. The cell phone call from Jensen’s phone to Karen Upgarde was damning enough.
“Then let’s head to a coffee shop, someplace that has Wi-Fi, and see what we find out. The images and audio will show up on my phone as well as being recorded.”
“You’ve got an app for this?”
“At least one. We’ll be able to see and hear whatever happens in the living room and part of the dining area leading to the kitchen, even down the hallway.”
She didn’t care about the legality any longer. It was a means to an end. “Find an all-day diner or coffee shop that has Wi-Fi, and we’ll head there.”
“Already on it.” He clicked on the keys. “Okay, here’s a good one. The Bellwether Café. They advertise ‘cutting-edge coffee,’ whatever than means, and ‘wine and beer starting at four PM.’ Better yet, ‘free, fast Wi-Fi.’”
He gave her the address, and realizing she was heading in the wrong direction, Remmi found a place for a quick U-turn, one tire skimming the curb, then drove south till they found the café, an A-frame building that she remembered from high school. At that time, it had been a burger and ice cream takeout spot with limited seating. Now, it had been redone in an industrial motif, with black and silver vinyl, vaguely space-age, chrome light fixtures, a stainless-steel counter, exposed pipes, and the smell of freshly ground coffee mingling with the sweet scent of baked goods.
Tables were scattered over a cement floor, and only a few were occupied. Two women were chatting loudly at a table near the counter, while a twenty-year-old with a beard and close-cropped black hair stared at his open laptop, watching some kind of video, his coffee forgotten while he stared at the screen and chewed on an already flattened stir stick.
Instrumental versions of classic rock songs played but could barely be heard over the buzz of conversation, the clatter of cups, and the hiss of an espresso machine.
They found a corner booth in the back of the eating area, and while Noah set up shop, connecting his phone and laptop to the Internet, she ordered them each a cup of coffee. “Want anything else?” she asked when she returned with the cups, and he looked up.
“Maybe,” he said, and when his gaze touched hers, she felt an unbidden rush warm her blood. “Let me think about it.” She handed him his cup, then ordered two scones. The barista placed them on a plate, which she set on the table before sliding into the booth next to him.
“I figured if we’re going to hang out here a while, we’d better order,” she said.
“Good idea.” His phone rang, and he answered quickly. “Emma,” he mouthed and then listened, his expression growing grim.
“When?” he asked tersely. “No, I hadn’t heard . . . when? . . . no foul play . . . well, yeah, other than that. But I meant at the hospital . . .”
Hospital? Oh, no. Ned!
“. . . Okay. Yeah, thanks.” He clicked off, and Remmi slumped on the bench.
“Ned died,” she said, and he nodded.
“Just a while ago.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d told herself she’d been expecting to hear this, that no one could survive the attack he’d been subjected to, but deep down she’d hoped for a miracle, had felt that if anyone could make it, Ned, the rough-and-tumble cowboy, could. He would be able to beat the odds . . . but no. She felt Noah’s arm reach across the back of the booth and pull her close.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his breath ruffling the hair at her crown. “Really.” He kissed her softly above her temple, and she nearly broke into a million pieces.
“I haven’t seen or heard from him in years,” she whispered. “But still . . .”
“He was the one guy you looked up to back then, I know.” He squeezed her, and she melted into him, let go for just a second.
A kaleidoscope of memories assailed her—short, colorful pictures flashing through her mind of happy years with the gentle cowboy. For a second, she remembered the scents of horses and dust, the feel of his hands helping her into the saddle, the way he showed her how to aim a .22 and how to quiet a frightened mare in the throes of foaling.
“He was a good guy,” she said. “He deserved better than this. And I know that, somehow, he was involved in all of this, that he was compromised, I guess, but he didn’t deserve to be gunned down, Noah.” She wiped her eyes and swallowed back her tears.
“You’re right.”
