Evidence of Murder

“Because he was my dad, that’s why! A son should know better!”

Sam lifted her hands, palms out. “I get the point.”

His shoulders sagged. “Sorry. I’m still riled about all this.”

“I don’t blame you. When you and Hallie were talking, what were you about to say you gave the police?”

“The code for a storage unit. They said they’d check it out today. I rented a unit near the old neighborhood, and that’s where I stuck all the family stuff I didn’t get rid of after the funerals. I was pretty shook up and didn’t sort through anything after selling the house and the furniture. Just boxed it and stuffed it into a rental garage. I pay the rent bill every month, but to tell you the truth, I haven’t been back since.”

Sam frowned. “I can understand why you were in no shape to look at things at the time, but ten years is quite a while to leave your family memories locked away in a storeroom.”

His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. “Not if you think your bid for independence as good as pulled the trigger.”

“Do I ever understand that ‘bid for independence’ thing! I’m still fighting for mine.”

“What do you mean? You own a business, and I don’t see you living with parents.”

“A month ago you would have seen exactly that.” Sam rolled her eyes. “And no business, either.”

“No kidding!”

She bobbed her head. “Not even a teensy exaggeration. After finishing high school half a year behind the rest of my class, it took me another six to finish college because I needed to work so much to help pay old medical bills. Happily, my job was in a dry cleaners, where I learned a trade hands-on. So when my maternal grandmother left her only granddaughter a sizable chunk in her will, I suddenly found myself free of financial obligation and able to pursue a career that combined my experience with my business degree.” Sam stretched out her legs in the roomy interior and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “The only hitch was finding a dry-cleaning establishment to purchase that would get me out from under my family’s watchful eye and yet not be so far away that they would have instant heart failure when I told them I was moving.”

Ryan chuckled. “Where are you from?”

“Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Hallie’s from there, too, as well as another friend I’m close with, Jenna. She’s part owner and full-time chef at The Meridian.”

Ryan whistled under his breath. “I’ve heard that restaurant is the hottest taste sensation since buttered toast.”

Sam laughed. “I take it you haven’t paid a visit.”

He waved a hand over his polo shirt and jeans. “Suits and ties and power lunches were my dad’s thing, not mine.”

“Jenna’s restaurant welcomes tennis shoes seated next to designer leather loafers. We’ll have to go sometime.” Sam halted on an intake of breath. Did she just ask this guy out?

“Sounds great!”

By the size of Ryan’s smile, that’s exactly what she’d done, and there was no taking it back now. At least not totally. “You know, to apologize for accusing you of taking my cat. You did flowers—I guess I can do lunch.” She forced a big smile. Could he see her pulse racing? Well, he probably couldn’t miss the flush that heated her face.

“You know,” Ryan said, “Bastian likely just slipped out to explore the neighborhood. He seems to possess a normal case of curiosity, considering his species.”

“You’re probably right. If you can find him as easily today as you did the other night, I’ll owe you big-time.”

“Like dinner and a movie?”

Sam sank in the seat, face blazing. This guy was milking her mistake for all it was worth. Why? With all that was on his mind right now, romancing the woman who found those brutal photos couldn’t be high on his priority list.

“Did you call the police about the break-in?”

What did he say? She shook her head free of confusion fumes. “Oh, the break-in? No, I thought it was you.”

“So, it’s okay if I break into your place, but no one else?”

“Davidson, if you’re trying to push my buttons, you’re doing a stellar job. I’ll call the police right now.” She snatched her purse from the floor where she’d tossed it and yanked out her cell phone. She almost dropped it when she heard a shrill ring. But it wasn’t her tune. She looked over at Ryan.

He pulled a cell from a belt holder. “Davidson here.” Long pause. “What? How did anyone get there before you? The case hasn’t even broken on the news yet.” Another pause. “Oh, I see. Yes, I’ll be right there.”

Ryan snapped the phone shut and turned toward Sam, gaze bleak. “That was the police. They opened my storage unit, but someone beat them to it…years ago.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Someone made a stew of my family’s stuff, but it wasn’t a recent job. Everything’s covered with dust. They want me to get over there pronto and tell them if something’s missing. The trouble is I’m not sure if I’ll know. I was in such a fog when I put everything in storage.”

The rasp in his tone jerked a knot in Sam’s heartstrings. “If they need you now, let’s do it.”

“You’d go with me?” Furrows smoothed from Ryan’s brow, and his ice-blue gaze heated.

Sam’s heart-knot melted. “Well, I’m not too keen on being left on the side of the road. Besides, I can report my break-in to the authorities there.”

Ryan smiled. “Smart lady.”

Ryan stared at the carnage in the Gopher Storage garage. Boxes had been upended and the contents rooted through—loose papers tossed everywhere, his mom’s novels jumbled amidst his dad’s textbooks. Broken items were strewn across what little floor space remained among the crammed-in personal belongings. He spotted his mother’s favorite white blouse, torn and dusty and yellowed, tossed carelessly on top of a collection of his sister’s high school tennis trophies.

Memories sucked him under like quicksand.

He tore himself away and staggered the few feet to his pickup. Gripping the edge of the truck box, he hung his head, hauling in deep breaths. A warm hand fell on his shoulder. He glanced down into solemn green eyes.

“Give yourself a minute,” she murmured. “You’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled loud and long. “Seeing that stuff hit me hard.”

“Mr. Davidson,” a terse voice spoke from behind them, “did you notice anything missing?”

Ryan turned to face the officer who had introduced himself as Detective Connell. The lean man stood with a pen and small notebook in hand. Ryan shook his head. “Nothing obvious, but I’ll have to go through things in order to be able to give a better answer.”

“Fair enough.” The detective stuffed the pen and notebook in his suit jacket pocket. “Our guys will be through dusting for prints soon, and then we can turn you loose on the place.”

“Thanks.”

“Detective Connell,” Sam spoke up, “my business was broken into last night.”

The officer stiffened.

“I found evidence of the intrusion this morning,” Sam continued, “and my cat is gone. At first, I thought it was Ryan paying me a return visit, but he says not, and I believe him.”

Connell cocked a brow at Ryan. “Yes, I heard you were prowling the old neighborhood the other night.”

“I didn’t break into the dry cleaners.”