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Kaden had said they had a lot in common, and maybe they did. Hard as it was to believe.
She waved a hand toward the small kitchen table. “Have a seat.”
Lia busied herself with grabbing two bowls and scooping out the chili she’d put into the Crock-Pot the night before. She never knew when she was going to have time to eat. It made sense to have something ready and waiting. It wasn’t like they had fast-food places all over town even if she did want something easy.
Placing the bowls and silverware on the table, she poured two large glasses of ice-cold water and grabbed a crusty loaf of bread she’d bought at the local bakery.
At last, she settled in a seat across the table from Kaden, watching as he bent forward to take a deep sniff of the bowl in front of him.
“It smells delicious.”
“I hope you like it spicy.”
He glanced up, his eyes a smoky gray as he allowed a wicked smile to curve his lips. “Is there any other way?”
Awareness sizzled in the air, hotter than any peppers in her chili. For a breathless moment, Lia savored the tingly sensations. Why not? It wasn’t like tall, dark, deliciously sexy men landed on her doorstep every day. More like never ever ever.
Then, feeling a blush stain her cheeks, she lowered her head and concentrated on eating her lunch. Kaden followed her lead with a gusto that warmed her heart. She wasn’t a fancy cook, but she liked to think she could make a decent meal. Waiting until he’d polished off his chili along with a large hunk of bread, Lia pushed aside her bowl and put her elbows on the table.
She was too distracted to be hungry. And not just because Kaden was creating all sorts of intoxicating sensations. Deep down, there was a nagging unease that the sins of the past had created a cancer in the very heart of Pike.
“You don’t think Judge Armstrong’s crash was an accident, do you?” she asked, although she already knew the answer.
“No.”
“I don’t either.” She wrinkled her nose in confusion. “But I don’t know how you could force the man to smash his car into the back of his garage. Not without risking a serious injury.”
“The deputy said the judge looked like he’d been beaten.”
Lia shrugged. “The mayor did have a point when he reminded Anthony the judge had just been in an accident. The windshield was smashed like he’d hit it with his head.”
“Yeah, but what better way to cover a murder than a car crash?” He settled back in his seat, his expression distracted, as if he was considering the best way to commit the crime. “That’s how I would do it.”
“How?”
“I’d wait in the garage until he pulled in. You said yourself that he lives alone and doesn’t have any close neighbors. Who would be around to notice someone sneaking inside? Plus, he would be going from the bright morning light to darkness. He would be momentarily blinded. It would be easy to catch him by surprise.”
Lia nodded. “That makes sense.”
“As soon as he opened his car door, I’d use a weapon to knock him unconscious,” Kaden continued. “He was an old man. I doubt he would be hard to overpower, especially if he wasn’t expecting the attack.” Kaden paused, his expression grim. “Once he was dead, I would wedge a heavy object against the gas pedal and put the car in gear. After the crash, it would be easy to remove the object and walk away.”
Lia shuddered. It was terrifying to imagine the old judge pulling into his garage with no idea that a killer was lurking in the shadows.
“It sounds like something from a movie.”
He sent her a wry glance. “It was a lot riskier than a choregraphed stunt. One mistake and the killer could have been run over by the Cadillac. Or the garage could have collapsed before they escaped. Someone is either desperate or arrogant enough to believe they’re impervious to danger.”
Lia was ready to accept his version of events. It was the logical conclusion. Still, it would be better if they had proof. She tapped a finger on the edge of the table, trying to figure out how to discover exactly what had happened.
“I wonder if we could find it.”
He arched a brow at her abrupt words. “Find what?”
“The heavy object that was wedged against the gas pedal. Whoever killed the judge might have left it behind.”
“You’re right. Once the crowd leaves, we should have a look around.”
“Probably best to wait until tomorrow.” She knew her fellow citizens well enough to predict there would be people trying to get a peek at the spot where the judge died for the rest of the day. Probably into late evening. “Although even if we do find something, I’m not sure what it would tell us beyond your theory being right.”
