Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
T he smell of bacon awoke Ophelia from a dream where she'd found herself running through thick snow between ominous trees, chasing something. Or someone? She liked the idea that she chased instead of fled in the dream.
Yawning, she stretched and then caught herself, looking around. Brock’s house felt like home. Then she remembered the day before.
He’d lied to her. By omission, anyway.
Yeah, in the light of the morning, she could see his point of view. He didn’t want to hurt David or Monica…and things had progressed quickly with Ophelia.
Could she move past that?
Could he if she arrested one of his brothers?
Did she even want to try? Never in her life had she felt like this with a man, safe and slightly irritated, and she knew to her soul that he was a good man. Loyalty did matter. She forced herself out of bed to the attached bathroom, noting her hair was a tangled mess around her face.
A packaged toothbrush was next to a travel sized tube of toothpaste, and she used both before washing her face and quickly braiding her now wild hair down her back. Her phone buzzed and she looked down to see that the warrant to hold Wyatt Yankovich had been granted by a federal judge. Excellent. She’d drop by the hospital after meeting with Monica and execute the warrant.
It was time Wyatt spoke with her again. Oh, she couldn’t force him, but being served with a warrant usually did the trick.
Feeling like she finally caught a break, Ophelia padded barefoot on the cold wooden floor out the room to find Brock in the wide kitchen setting out two plates on the round table near the back door.
“Morning,” he said, his gaze a dark green. “Coffee?”
“Yes,” she said, moving gratefully toward him as he handed her a full mug. She took a strong gulp and let the heat fill her stomach. “Thank you.”
He gestured her toward the table before bringing over the bacon and a large plate of scrambled eggs heavily ladened with cheese. In the soft morning light, he looked large and dangerous in his faded jeans and ripped T-shirt that appeared to have a bear across the back. “I thought about us a lot last night. I screwed up, and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
She rubbed her chin and sat at the table, her stomach growling. A badass Navy SEAL who could apologize? “I’m a bit unsettled with you right now.” But her body wanted to jump him. It wasn’t fair. Nobody should look that sexy in the morning.
“Yeah.” He sat and took a deep drink of his coffee. “That’s my fault. I’ll make it up to you.”
Saving her life by jumping into a freezing river went a long way. “Maybe we should cool it for a while, at least until I figure out who killed Hank,” she murmured, scooping eggs onto her plate, her mind befuddled. “We can’t work that case together any longer.” Not that he’d taken the sheriff job, because he still hadn’t.
He reached for the bacon. “That’s a good idea. Sorry again. I honestly didn’t want to hurt Monica or David and had banished that night and morning from my reality. Still should’ve told you, though.” He munched on a piece, his jaw hard. “Although if this case gets out, that info may end up public, whether we like it or not now.”
True. In a trial, a defense attorney would run with it. But she couldn’t worry about that. “Why didn’t Sheriff Blazerton include that info in the file?”
Brock shrugged. “He knew I didn’t kill Hank, and also, Monica was his niece. That must be why.”
Fine. “I need to speak with Ace. Could you send me his cell number?”
Brock glanced at his phone sitting on the table. “I texted him earlier and asked him to stop by. Hopefully before he's drinking.”
She paused in eating more eggs. “How bad is Ace’s drinking problem?”
Brock shook his head. “I don't think he's a raging alcoholic, but I do think he's using booze to deal with a plane crash he had last year. It's his story to tell, and frankly, I'm done waiting for him to tell me about it.” His gaze darkened. “That was off the record, Agent. Don't even think of using that information to push his buttons during an interview, or I'll tell him to take to the woods with Christian. Got it?”
His over-protective side could be both sexy and a total pain in her ass. “I’ve got it, so long as the plane crash doesn't have anything to do with my investigations.”
“He crashed a military jet, so I think you're safe,” Brock said wryly.
“Did this occur before or after Hank died?” Most situations in life were somehow related, she'd learned.
Brock finished off his coffee. “After and it had nothing to do with Hank's death. If Ace piloted a plane, he remained fully cognizant and in control of the situation. Period.”
“Fair enough.” She took another bite of the delicious eggs. “What do Ace and Christian think about Damian working for EVE?” She had no doubt Brock had told them and wanted to know their opinions before she interviewed them again.
Brock took more of the eggs and watched as the cheese stretched and then landed on his plate. “They’re happy that Damian is back in Alaska, and I believe they're looking forward to the four of us getting together sometime soon.” His tone remained level and calm.
Hmmm. Something told her that didn’t cover everything, but she remained on the outside, watching the four brothers handle things in their own secretive way.
The front door opened and Ace walked inside, kicking off snow gear.
Ophelia hid her surprise that he’d actually shown up.
Brock glanced his way. “Coffee's hot and we have eggs and bacon left.”
“Ate at the diner.” Ace strode on thick gray socks to the kitchen and poured himself a mug of the steaming coffee. He looked at Ophelia in that same direct way Brock had. “Understand you heard I had an affair with Tammy Randsom. I did. We hooked up after she and Leo divorced.”
Brock sighed. “I wish I hadn’t gone out of town for so long.”
Ace shrugged. “Not your fault. I came home after the plane crash and was still mourning Hank. It's an understatement to admit that I did not find myself in a good place. The affair lasted two weeks, and it turns out she also dated Fred Jeronimish at the same time.” He tipped back the mug and finished the entire contents. “It ended when I discovered that fact. Also, she and Jarod tore up the sheets some, which absolutely pissed me off on Amka’s account.”
Ophelia lifted her head. “Did you tell Amka?”
Ace stared into his mug. “Yeah. I felt like a snitch and a shitty guy, but we've known Amka her entire life, and I couldn't let her marry that asshat. Yet they didn't break up.” His frown drew down his dark eyebrows. “Sometimes I just don't understand people.”
Ophelia made some mental notes to prepare for her upcoming interview with the bar owner. How angry was Amka with Jarod…and Tammy? “How do you feel about Damian being home?” Ophelia expertly switched topics, wanting him off balance. Somehow.
Ace glanced through the sliding glass door to the snow piled on the wide deck. “It's good to have D home. Although, if he doesn't actually head here into town, Christian is going to infiltrate EVE, and it's not going to be pretty.” He said the last as if directly to Brock. “As the sheriff, you probably have some sort of duty to cooperate with the EVE folks, right?”
Brock just glared at him.
Ophelia pushed forward before Brock could argue about his job position. “Did Christian kill Hank?”
Ace didn’t even blink. “No.” Rolling his neck, he leaned back against the counter. “I know C seems like an oddity to some people, but he’s a good guy. Yeah, he prefers wilderness to structures and animals to people, but he’s been through some shit in his career, and he’s coping better than most. One thing he would never do is kill family. Period.”
“I think you killed Hank and are drinking yourself to death out of guilt,” she asked softly.
“You’re wrong.” Ace met her gaze levelly, his green eyes a shade off of Brock’s. “I understand your line of thinking, but you’re just way off. Honestly. A hunter, probably some jackass out for fun from the lower forty-eight and on vacation, way out of his depth, accidentally shot Hank. Either he or she didn’t realize it, or they did and ran away like scared cowards, but nobody around here killed Hank.”
He was lying. Ophelia could point to no obvious evidence of deception, but she knew, she freaking knew, that he wasn’t telling the truth.
She smiled. Her most genuine, casual, feminine smile. “You’re full of shit, Ace.”
He blinked. For the first time, he showed surprise as his gaze cleared and his eyes widened just enough to be noticeable. Brock jerked back, for once exhibiting a reaction not deliberately calculated. Yeah. They hadn’t expected her to catch the deception or call him on it.
Brock cleared his throat.
Ophelia held up a hand. “You’ve all been lying to me. Why, I don’t know. All four of you were in town when Hank died, and Brock is the only one with an alibi. An alibi I need to follow up with later today.” She would not take the man with her, either. “Now start talking, or you both could end up being charged with lying to a federal agent, which comes with prison time, if I remember right.”
Neither man said a word. How irritating. Not a lick of this made sense. She could tell they’d all loved Hank. “I need to borrow your truck today until I can find one to buy,” she murmured.
Brock’s eyebrow lifted. “Why?”
“To go somewhere. You and I are not on the same page on this investigation, and you’re not even admitting you’re the sheriff. So I’m asking you as a friend to borrow your truck.”
“As a friend?” His eyes burned an unfathomable green. “Is that what we are?
She had no clue how to define what they were. “No.”
“You seem to be forgetting that somebody has been shooting at you.” He stood and started collecting the dirty plates. “I’m happy to drive you since we’ve got about a day or two before most of the river road becomes impassable by truck. I take it you want to interview my alibi for the day of Hank’s death?”
“Yes,” Ophelia said.
Brock shrugged. “Monica and David live in the opposite direction of here, on the other side of the river. I’ll drive you and wait in the truck for as long as you need.” He took the dishes to the kitchen.
She hid her surprise at his acceptance of her goal for the day. “Ace? I suggest you meet with an attorney soon.”
“Not necessary,” Ace said, taking his mug to the sink, eyeing his brother. “You really going to take your current, um, girlfriend to meet your ex?”
Brock started doing the dishes. “Monica and I didn’t date, and from the tone of the agent currently wearing my T-shirt, we aren’t either right now.” While his voice remained level, a muscle ticked in his strong jaw. “I hate that this one mistake may screw up Monica’s life. David shouldn’t have to know.”
So they were back to ‘agent’ again. Fine. That worked for Ophelia. The sense of betrayal felt real. She’d almost considered Monica a friend. But she could also understand a mistake and wanting to keep it from David. Maybe. Honesty mattered. Ophelia would have to dig deep for objectivity considering she could be the current lover. Maybe. At the moment, maybe not.
So she jumped in with both feet. “After I speak with a couple of witnesses today, I’d like to organize a meeting with the four Osprey brothers at the same time. Can you arrange that for me?”
Neither Osprey brother looked at each other. Both stared at her, and neither showed an ounce of emotion. She couldn’t get a read on either one of them.
Not even close. Yeah, she really needed to find her own vehicle somehow in town. She made a mental note to call Flossy and see if she could help.
For now, it was time to discuss Monica’s one night stand.