She looked at him doubtfully. “Oh?”
“If I provide you with a lead…a possible link between DLK and Elizabeth Landis…would you promise to report back to me with any findings before publishing them?”
Her doubt turned to distrust. “And blow my chance at a scoop?”
“Not at all. I’m simply requesting you let me know first. You’ll be the only member of the news media with the story.”
She thought about it. “Deal.”
Pete crooked a finger at her, motioning her to his side of the computer. She scurried from her chair to peer over his shoulder. He waited until she’d read the first article before clicking to the second.
Lauren straightened and looked down at him. “How long have you known about this?”
“What time is it?” he asked. “I was only made aware of this homicide within the last half hour.” He studied her face as her gaze returned to the screen.
She made a looping motion with her hand. Go back.
He clicked to the first article again.
“Six weeks,” she mused. “A person could walk here from Morgantown in under six days.”
“With plenty of time to spare.”
She nodded thoughtfully and returned to her chair. “What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Dig into the Morgantown case.”
“Why don’t you?”
“I intend to. But you often have more ready sources than I do.”
“True.” Lauren ran a finger back and forth across her lower lip. “I may know some of the staff at the Morgantown newspaper.”
Which was what Pete was counting on. “Find out what they know. Pass along what you learn to me.”
“I’m not giving up confidential informants.”
“I don’t expect you to.” He wouldn’t give his up to her either.
She continued to think. “And you’ll reciprocate? You’ll give me anything you find out before making a public statement?”
“Absolutely.”
Her lips curled into a sly smile. “Can you email me the links to those articles?”
He hit a few keys. “Done.”
“You can fix this?” Zoe asked.
Scott cautiously claimed her spot on the boxes after testing them to make sure they’d hold his weight. “I’ve built a few computers over the years. It’s a hobby of mine.”
“I don’t need one built.” At least, she hoped she didn’t. “I just need the one I have to talk nice to the printer.”
After a few brief moments of tapping on the keyboard, Scott confirmed that he needed to reinstall the printer’s driver. The task, which sounded herculean to Zoe, took Scott only a couple of minutes to complete. The printer hummed to life, spitting out the reports she’d wanted. And then a second copy.
“Crap. Make it stop. I kept hitting the print button…I don’t know how many times.”
Scott managed to cancel the additional orders. The machine whirred and fell silent.
“Thank you,” Zoe said. “You’re my hero.”
A cloud seemed to pass over his dark eyes. “Don’t give me too much credit.”
“You saved me a bunch of aggravation, of which I have plenty right now.” Her thoughts drifted to the wedding and the image of her clinging to Scott’s arm as they approached the altar. It felt right.
He stood and brushed off the seat of his jeans. “No problem. Now about tomorrow. Where do you want me and what time?”
She scoured the desk and came up with a scrap of letterhead from the office’s former occupant. “Pete’s house. I’ll write down the address. Can you make it around eight o’clock?”
“I can be there earlier if you need me.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.” She handed him the paper and looked at his thin, handsome face, covered in a light stubble. Pictured him in a suit. Her brother. “Scott,” she began hesitantly.
He met her gaze.
“About my wedding.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “I want to ask you a favor.”
He lowered his eyes and winced, cooling the flush. “I need to talk to you about that.”
Her heart sank low in her chest. Whatever he had to say wasn’t good.
“I’m glad I was able to help today. And tomorrow. But I’m not going to be at your wedding.”
She didn’t want to know, but the words slipped out unbidden. “Why not?”
He opened his mouth. Shut it again. “Something’s come up. I’m sorry.”
“Because of Christopher?” It wasn’t really a question. Scott’s son—her nephew—had been a huge granite wall between them from the moment they’d met.
Scott struggled with the non-question. He clearly wanted to say more, but only repeated, “I’m sorry.”
Zoe nodded. She wanted to understand. Christopher, in spite of his criminal activities, in spite of having left her to die last winter, in spite of a lifetime of living outside of the law, was still Scott’s only child. Scott had raised the boy as a single parent. Meanwhile, Pete was doing his best to put the young man away for a very long time.
And Zoe was slated to be a key witness for the prosecution.
She and Christopher might be on even footing as Scott’s blood relatives, but she and Scott had only met a few months ago. He’d invested a lifetime in trying to keep his boy out of trouble and out of jail.
She knew all of this. Knew he’d choose Christopher over her. And perhaps that was the way it should be. But it didn’t make her hurt any less.
“If you’d rather I didn’t show up tomorrow, I understand.” Scott looked as anguished as she felt.
“No.” Zoe blinked away the disappointment. She’d take whatever he could offer. For now. “I’d appreciate your help.”
He smiled. Not a big smile but a relieved one. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Once Scott had gone, Zoe collapsed onto her stacked boxes, staring out the dirt-streaked window, thoughts and emotions racing inside her skull like deranged bumper cars. She’d joked about walking down the aisle by herself, but really doing it? Not her preference. And not her dream. She closed her eyes, and an image
