“I never claimed to be normal. So, don’t try explaining where you got the information.” Ryley unbuckled and opened the SUV’s door.
“I’m not sure she’d believe me, anyway,” he grumbled as he followed her out of the car and toward the door.
Mrs. Jones pulled the door open before he could even knock. “Any answers?”
“Not yet,” Jake said. “Mrs. Jones, this is Ryley St. James. She’s helping out in the investigation.”
“Oh, please come in,” she said, opening the door wider.
“Mrs. Jones, we received an anonymous tip. That tipster apparently knew your husband and wanted to get a message to you without being involved.” Jake lied through his teeth.
“Okay.” Mrs. Jones hesitated.
“Do you have encyclopedias?”
Mrs. Jones brows dipped. “Um, sure.” She gestured to the hallway, and they followed.
“Encyclopedias are like dinosaurs,” Ryley said. “Why does your husband have them?”
Mrs. Jones opened the door to an office and gestured to the bookshelf. “My husband has a rare first edition. They’re collectible.”
“Great.” Jake let out a breath. “Apparently, your husband told the tipster that he hid his will within those pages.”
Mrs. Jones's eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand as a tear formed in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked.
“I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”
They helped her look through the books. It was filed under the word love, where Curtis had highlighted the entry and it made his wife cry.
Jake drove Ryley back to the precinct and parked.
“Bane will owe you if this evidence pans out,” Jake said.
“He’s paying through the nose,” she said and leaned forward, squinting her eyes.
Jake grinned. Bane had to pay her for her help, and she’d offered it for free to his mom. Things had just turned more interesting. He followed her gaze to a car parked in the next row, where the driver was watching them with a camera pointed in their direction. “Admirer of yours?”
“He’s been following me for two days.” She dug into her purse and took out her Taser, flipping it on.
“Down, girl. You’re with a cop. I’ll go have a word with him. You stay here,” Jake said, climbing out of the car before she could protest.
Chapter 14
Ryley
Ryley chewed on her lip while Crews crossed the parking lot toward the man in the car. The camera pointing out the window disappeared.
“Please, please, please don’t know my father,” she whispered, trying to hold it together and hoping her dad hadn’t hired someone to find her.
Crews flashed his badge as he approached. Seconds that took forever passed as the two men exchanged words. Camera guy got out of his car when Crews waved for Ryley to join them.
She wasn’t ready to put away the Taser, even knowing Crews was carrying a weapon. She’d never again be that little girl who couldn’t defend herself.
Her chest tightened, and her stomach churned. Curiosity mixed with dread was a deadly combination.
“Ryley, this is Private Investigator Oscar Rothchild.”
Rothchild stood tall and straight like a towering spruce. Not counting his height, he had the type of face like any of the guys she’d passed on the street or that sit at her bar. He was a typical guy with a disarming smile and looked like someone that could be trusted. Someone she’d want to grab a beer with and yet…
“Why are you following me?” Ryley blurted out, unable to be civilized.
He reached into the car, and she lifted the Taser, keeping it between her and Oscar.
He turned with wide eyes, holding up his hands with a picture of Ryley clutched in his fingers. “Whoa there.”
She snatched the photo from his hold and stared down at it. She’d been wearing the black dress, a wide-brimmed hat and standing in front of Mr. Wilson’s casket while placing the white rose on the wood.
The flash? It wasn’t a shiny object. It was this guy. She narrowed her eyes. The unease in her stomach turned to acid. “Why did you take this? Are you some kind of creepy funeral stalker? Or did my father hire you?”
“What? No?”
She jabbed the Taser in his direction like a cattle prod, careful not to touch him. “Why do you have my picture? Who are you working for?”
“Mr. Wilson,” the private investigator blurted out.
“Kind of hard for a dead man to hire you,” she said.
“This is getting us nowhere, just tell her why you’re following her. I’ve got a killer to go arrest,” Crews demanded.
“I was tasked with taking pictures of the funeral mourners, and I did. I gave a copy to the attorney, and she asked that I track you down.”
“Why?” Ryley growled.
He pointed into the car. “Don’t electrocute me. I’m just getting another envelope.”
Ryley lowered her weapon.
He leaned in and pulled out an envelope with the letterhead of a local attorney. “She asked me to give you this.”
Ryley slid her finger beneath the flap and pulled a slip of heavy card stock. It was an invitation, her name embossed in gold.
The attorney’s name and office address were written beneath Ryley’s. Below that was tomorrow’s date with a time. “What is this?”
“Mr. Wilson’s attorney has requested your presence at the reading of the will.”
Crews glared at Ryley. “Tell me this dead Wilson guy isn’t one of your clients you conned.”
“I’ve never met the guy before,” Ryley squawked.
“Then why were you at his funeral?” Crews asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
That would be hard to explain, and no way in hell was she doing it in front of the private investigator. She tried to hand the invite back. “I’m not interested.”
Oscar held up his hands. “I got paid to deliver it. You can tell them yourself that you aren’t interested. Although Mr. Wilson’s dying request was that everyone from the funeral at least watch a video he prepared. You wouldn’t begrudge a dying man his last wish, would you?”
Ryley narrowed her eyes at the manipulative investigator as he got back into his car.
“Keep the picture. I’ve got plenty more.” The stalker pulled out before she could stop him.
Crews left her standing in the
