“I am, but I’ve taken a hiatus.” He paused. “Tara’s pregnant. We’re expecting a boy in August.”
Luke grinned and hollered congrats over Weston’s whoop. Grady and Tara had been through a trying ordeal, and both had nearly died trying to protect Maddy, the little girl Tara had adopted. No one deserved happiness more than them.
“Thanks, guys,” Grady said. “Unfortunately, morning sickness and country breakfasts don’t match. She can’t stand the scent of food, so I see a lot of cereal in my future.”
“No doubt.” As happy as Luke was for his friend, he needed to turn back to business. “Do you have an update from forensics about June’s vehicle, Grady?”
His fellow ranger sighed. “You’re not going to like this.”
Five
Forty-five minutes of searching June’s bedroom and Megan was still empty-handed. She shoved a dresser drawer closed with a frustrated sigh. Her cell phone rang, the name Grace Sterling flashing on the screen. She didn’t bother answering with a hello. Her best friend and the other half of Hunt & Sterling law firm had been texting all morning.
“It’s not here, Grace.”
Megan shifted the phone against her ear. Her gaze skipped around the bedroom, verifying she’d checked every nook and cranny. The closet, under the bed, the nightstand. None of it had gone untouched.
A slight drumming came over the line. Megan pictured Grace thrumming her manicured fingers on the antique wooden desk, a silk scarf highlighting her high cheekbones and ebony eyes, and her mouth pursed in thought.
Her friend sighed. “Are you sure it’s not in her office?”
“I tore it apart last night. All I found were news articles about the case. There should be a lot more than that.”
Megan crossed the room to the window. From this angle, Hank’s truck was visible. Luke’s stepfather was strolling the fence line near the barn. Nearing seventy, he still had the long stride of a man far more youthful. She’d already offered him coffee this morning, which he’d kindly refused.
“Have you drawn up the attorney/client agreement?” Megan asked.
“Yes. I’m going to see your brother this morning, and I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”
“Good. Luke’s made arrangements to question Wade later today, and I want you there. Meanwhile, I’ll keep searching.”
Her friend was silent for a long beat. “Megan, maybe you should back off. We can send a private investigator—”
“No. This is something I have to see through myself.”
She glanced down at her hand, and a memory flashed in her mind. Her mother’s blood coating her palm as the rain beat down on their rolled SUV.
Take care of Wade. Promise me, Megan.
I promise, Mama.
She squeezed her eyes shut and willed the haunting image away. If she thought of all the ways she’d failed to live up to that promise, it would cripple her. Right now, she needed to stay strong and focused.
“Do you think Luke will help?” Grace asked.
“Help is a relative term. He’ll investigate June’s accident, but I don’t know if that will lead to the evidence.” Megan crossed the room and opened June’s closet. She shoved a row of clothes to the side and tapped against the wall searching for a secret compartment. “Honestly, I wouldn’t involve him at all if I could avoid it. I can’t be sure he won’t hide things from me again.”
“You know he was obligated to tell the sheriff about Wade going back to Franny’s house that night.”
“It goes so much deeper than that. My brother was drinking and getting into trouble. Luke knew about it, but never said anything. I didn’t get the chance to set Wade on the right path before things spiraled out of control.”
The betrayal burned like a hot iron as much today as it did three years ago, and Megan hit the closet wall with more force than was necessary.
Grace sighed again. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Of course. Talk to you soon.”
She hung up, her mind already jumping to the problem at hand. She tapped all along the closet walls, but there was no hole or a secret compartment. Where was Wade’s file? There should be notes, a list of interviews, and a timeline. The progress of June’s investigation had to be documented somewhere.
A thump cut through the silence. Megan froze and the hair on her arms rose. It sounded as if it’d come from the living room. She scooped up her cell phone from the closet shelf, but hesitated. The front door was locked, and Hank was outside. The likelihood of someone being in the house was miniscule.
In the doorway, she listened. Not a whisper of sound. Her heart pounded as she approached the living room. Sliding along the hallway wall, she peeked around the corner. Books, previously stacked on the coffee table, littered the floor. A streak of gray whipped past her. Megan stifled a scream.
She placed a hand on her racing heart. “Archimedes, you scared me.”
The cat disappeared into the spare bedroom. Rotten thing.
Megan loosened the grip on her cell phone and let out a long breath of relief. Recent events coupled with Luke’s warning were making her jumpy. The lack of sleep and gallons of caffeine in her system weren’t helping.
She went into the kitchen and popped a bagel in the toaster. Leaning against the counter, her gaze drifted over the room. Could June have a secret compartment somewhere else in the house? There was an attic they used for storing the Christmas decorations, but it would be difficult…
Her spine stiffened. She hadn’t checked the basement. Actually, it was a bunker, built by the first owner of the house. June hated the space and had often talked of sealing it off. Still, it would make the perfect hiding spot.
Megan’s sneakers slid over the tile as she rounded the corner of the utility room. She opened the basement door. It was pitch-black inside and snapping on the light did little to change things. A shiver of apprehension raced down her spine. Megan silently chided herself. The worst thing down there
