Interrogating the Bride

Micah stared at her for a long minute. “So, that means one of two things,” he said slowly. “The killer had to have followed him from his room to your room.”

“You said two things,” she said, her heart began to beat in an unsteady rhythm as she anticipated his next words.

“Or Jason wasn’t the intended victim at all,” he said, his words causing an arctic chill to crawl up her back.

“You were.”

Chapter Three

Micah watched as Caylee jumped up from the sofa and began to pace back and forth in front of him. He couldn’t help but notice how attractive she looked this morning with her freshly scrubbed face and her shiny dark hair.

He found it more than a little irritating that despite the fact that she wore a T-shirt that was far too big and jogging pants that engulfed her, the thrust of her full breasts was evident as was the sexy sway of her hips.

“Who would want to kill me?” she said, her voice almost a full octave higher than normal. “I don’t have any enemies, I try to be nice to everyone I meet. I’m a thoughtful employer, I don’t owe anybody money and I don’t have any crazy ex-boyfriends.” She stopped pacing and stared at Micah. “Why would anyone want me dead?”

“Maybe because you talk so much?” he said dryly.

Her cheeks colored with a blush and she shot him a cool frown. “I always talk too much when I’m nervous,” she said. “And excuse me, but the possibility that somebody tried to kill me definitely makes me more than a little bit nervous.”

“Why don’t you sit down. You’re starting to make me nervous,” Micah said gruffly. He was irritable this morning. He’d gotten little sleep the night before and the news of the day certainly hadn’t made him feel better about the mess he’d stepped into when he’d gotten on that plane in Fortuna.

He frowned as Caylee flopped down next to him. “So, what are we going to do?” she asked, her glittering green eyes looking at him questioningly. “Maybe we should just turn ourselves in, explain to the police what happened and that we didn’t have anything to do with Jason’s death. Surely we can make them see that we’re innocent.”

“You’re free to do that if you want. Unfortunately it’s not the path I intend to follow. There’s a bit of bad blood between me and Chief Kincaid. If I turn myself in, he’ll make sure I don’t see the light of day for a long time to come,” Micah said.

He could see the questions in her eyes, questions he didn’t intend to answer, so he continued. “However if you do choose to turn yourself in, let me remind you of what I said last night—I hope you have somebody good to run your shop and plenty of money to hire a high-powered criminal defense lawyer. A murder trial steals time and money from everyone involved except the lawyers.”

She should never play poker, he thought as he watched the myriad expressions that played on her features. Shock, disbelief and fear, they were all there in her eyes, on her face.

“I can’t leave my store indefinitely with my manager in charge of things,” she said. “I mean, she’s a nice young woman, but I need to be there making the decisions and keeping things running smoothly. I haven’t spent the last five years of my life working my butt off to make it a success for it all to go to ruin because of this…. this mistake.”

She leaned toward him and placed a hand on his forearm, the icy cold of her fingers telling him she wasn’t as composed as she was trying to appear. “So, what are we going to do?” she asked again.

Micah shifted positions, dislodging her hand from him. He didn’t want her looking to him for answers. He’d spent his entire life consciously choosing not to be responsible for anyone but himself. He definitely didn’t want to be responsible for a woman he didn’t know, a woman at the center of a murder case. He had enough problems of his own.

And yet, what was he supposed to do? Throw her out of the house? Leave her to flounder on her own because her eyes were too green, her face was too pretty and her very presence made him slightly uncomfortable?

“Micah?” She held his gaze intently, looking as if she were waiting for him to fix her world.

Before he could formulate an answer, the front door opened and Troy and Luke came in. They carried in their arms several bags of groceries and wore the same grim expressions they’d had the night before.

Both Caylee and Micah followed them into the kitchen where they began to unload the food and put it away. “It doesn’t look like this is all going to resolve itself easily. There’s talk that the officials on Fortuna are going to give the investigation into Jason’s death to the Kansas City cops,” Troy said as he shoved a couple packages of steaks into the freezer.

“Why would they do that? The murder took place in their jurisdiction.” Micah sat at the table across from Caylee.

“Officially the reasoning is Jason wasn’t a resident at the time of his death and they’re certain that the people who committed the crime, you and Caylee, have returned to Kansas City,” Troy replied.

“Unofficially, it’s probably because the Fortuna police force is a handful of glorified security guards,” Luke added. “Murder wasn’t supposed to happen on the glittering island on the sea.”

“Besides, by handing it over to the Kansas City cops they manage to distance the island from the murder. The last thing the officials on Fortuna want is for the island to be in the news as a place where the rich and infamous might not be safe.” Troy put the last of the meat they’d brought into the refrigerator, then joined them at the table.

“So, what does that mean for us?” Caylee asked.

“It means every cop on the Kansas City police force will be looking for you two.” Luke flung himself into the last chair at the table, his dark eyes glittering.

“We discovered something interesting when watching the news,” Micah said. He told them about Jason being murdered in the bed where Caylee had been sleeping. “We think it’s possible Jason wasn’t the intended victim.”

Both Luke and Troy focused their attention on Caylee, whose cheeks blossomed pink beneath their intense scrutiny. “I can’t imagine who’d want to hurt me,” she said.

Micah leaned back in his chair. “But we have to consider the possibility that she was the target, not Jason.” He looked at Caylee once again. “And that means I’m going to get very well acquainted with you and your lifestyle.” His tone of voice was harsh, making it sound more like a threat than he’d intended. So much for staying uninvolved, he thought to himself. “The only way to clear my name is to clear yours.”

His interest in her was purely self-serving. At the moment he needed her because she was the answer to getting himself out of this mess.

“I’ll do whatever you tell me to,” she said as she sat up straighter in the chair. “I just don’t know where to begin. This is all new to me, being accused of murder and staying with three repo men.”

“Recovery experts,” Micah corrected her.

“Whatever,” she exclaimed.

“It looks like the only way to get you out of trouble is to solve the crime ourselves.” Troy raked a hand over his short blond hair, a gesture Micah knew indicated a certain level of stress.

Troy and Luke had become the family Micah had never had, brothers of the heart bonded by the experience of war, mutual respect and that indefinable element that forges lifelong friendships.

He knew he was putting them at risk as accessories to murder. They could face charges of aiding and abetting. But he also knew not to protest their involvement, knew that they would have his back whether he wanted them to or not.

“We’ll spend the day digging up what we can on Jason Worthington,” Luke said. His dark eyes glittered with the thrill of the chase. “By the end of the day we’ll not only know who his friends and enemies were, we’ll also know what he had for breakfast the day he died and what his favorite color was.”

“I can tell you what he had for breakfast,” Caylee said. “Marie served us fruit cups and croissants. We didn’t want to eat anything too heavy because he’d planned on us spending the day on the beach. I’m not a huge beach person, but I was eager to get out of the house and spend the day among other people because Jason was giving me the willies.”

Troy and Luke looked at her as if she were a creature from another planet. “She talks too much when she gets nervous,” Micah explained dryly.

“I’d plan on the two of you being here for at least a week or longer,” Troy said, once again looking at Micah. “You know investigating anything like this takes time.”

“Is there any way I can go to my apartment and get some clothes and things?” Caylee asked. She grabbed the bottom of the T-shirt she wore.

“You can’t,” Troy replied. “I’m sure the cops are probably watching the place.”

“I can get in and get you what you need,” Luke said.

“Really?” The smile that curved her lips tightened a ball of tension inside Micah’s stomach. Her smile immediately disappeared. “I don’t have my keys,” she said with obvious dismay. “Surely it would be easier just to pick up a few things from the store.”

“I’d rather break in someplace than shop for a woman,” Luke replied.

“Luke doesn’t need keys,” Micah replied. One of Luke’s strengths was that he’d never met a lock he couldn’t pick or an alarm system he couldn’t disarm. “He’ll be fine.”

“I’ll get in tonight after dark. Just make a list of things you want from there,” Luke said.

Micah got up and moved to a cabinet drawer where he pulled out a legal pad and a pen. He gave them both to Caylee, but remained standing, knowing instinctively that within minutes Luke and Troy would be leaving.