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Leon Armstrong drove home at the speed of a snail. Not only was he more cautious as he grew older, he frankly couldn’t see a damned thing without his glasses. And worse, he’d made the stupid decision to stop by the electric department to inform them they could shove his bill up their asses. He wasn’t paying a late fee. Not when his utilities were already ungodly expensive. They’d get his money when he was damned well ready to give it to them.
The impulsive decision meant that by the time he was headed home, the snow that had threatened all morning was swirling from the heavens in a blanket of white. He struggled to make out more than a blur as he inched his way through the icy streets.
Aging was a bitch.
Of course, there was no need to hurry, he reminded himself. He’d retired from the bench six months ago and he had nothing but time on his hands. Which gave him plenty of opportunity to consider the looming disaster.
Leon tapped on the brakes as he turned the large Cadillac onto the private lane that led to his house. He grimaced as his back end fishtailed on the ice. He wished he’d stayed home. There hadn’t been any point in being at the meeting. Years ago he wielded the sort of power that could have squelched the investigation into the skeleton before it could even get started. But now . . .
Now he could do nothing more than regret ever getting involved with Tate Erickson and Ryan Burke.
It had nothing to do with morals. He’d discovered early in his career as a judge that there was nothing black and white in this world. A smart man understood there was a plethora of opportunities in the gray areas. Especially if he was ambitious.
But he was accustomed to working with professionals. They understood the necessity of hiding evidence in a way that couldn’t be traced back to them. And they most certainly didn’t allow their dead bodies to be discovered.
“Sloppy amateurs,” he muttered, pulling into the driveway in front of the massive brick house at the end of the lane. It was three-storied, with arched windows and a full conservatory on one side and a pool in the back. It’d cost a fortune, of course. But he’d made sure it was the largest house in Pike. He’d never been a man willing to settle for second best.
He just had to hope his ambitions weren’t going to cause his ruin—
Leon’s dark thoughts were abruptly shattered as he belatedly realized the garage door was shut. What the hell? He pressed his foot on the brake, frowning in confusion. He always left the door open when his driveway was covered with snow. It made it easier to pull into the garage if he could drive straight in without being concerned about stopping and spinning on the ice. Besides, it wasn’t like he had to worry about crime in Pike. No one was stupid enough to break into his house.
With a grimace, Leon pushed the button on his visor and waited for the garage door to glide up. No doubt he’d simply forgotten he wanted it left open. Things like that were happening more and more often. Lost keys, burned dinners, laundry abandoned in the washer . . .
Tapping his fingers, gnarled with arthritis, on the steering wheel, he returned his thoughts to his more pressing troubles. He wasn’t completely defenseless, he staunchly reminded himself. There were still a few old pals he could contact this afternoon.
Debating which favor he needed to call in first, Leon carefully eased his car into the garage. He was nearly blinded by the darkness that swallowed him as he pulled inside. Like Jonah being sucked into the belly of the whale.
Snorting at the ridiculous image that formed in his mind, Leon put the car in Park and switched off the engine. Then, reaching up, he pushed the button to close the garage door.
The electric motor hummed overhead as Leon shoved open the car door and started to push out his aching body. That was as far as he got before a shape that was darker than the shadows suddenly appeared.
“Who’s there?” Leon called out in a rough voice. There was no answer as the blurry form continued to move toward him. “Dammit, if this is a joke, it isn’t funny.”
He thought he heard a muffled laugh, as if the intruder found the situation hilarious. Bastard.
“Fine. You think this is a game? I’ll teach you not to play with me.”
Plopping back into the car seat, Leon grunted as he tried to turn to the side. He had a gun in the glove compartment. If only he could loosen his stiff muscles enough to reach it. He’d just managed to stretch his arm backward when he heard the whoosh of wind.
Something was being swung through the air. A knife? A tool? A baseball bat?
Whatever it was, it hit him in the face with enough force to bust his nose and shatter his front teeth.
The second blow crushed his skull.
He was dead by the third.
* * *
Kaden settled back in his seat as he watched Lia work her way through the stack of files. Unlike most people, she didn’t quickly scan the thick stacks of official forms or the detailed reports that had been gathered by the private detectives Darren had hired. This was a woman who didn’t offer her assistance lightly. If she agreed to do something, she was going to do it to the very best of her ability.
He wondered if she approached everything in her life with such unwavering devotion. He was going to guess she did.
When she reached the thick binder filled with Vanna’s official reports, however, she lifted her head to send him a rueful smile.
“I have no idea what these mean. They might as well be written in Greek.”
“I think they are. It will take a scientist to decipher them.” He grabbed the binder and shoved it into his satchel. “I brought them because I hoped the sheriff would hand them over to an expert.”
