Chapter 5 #2
She shook off the image of Micah kneeling at her feet. She was being overly emotional about this. He was being kind, nothing more. Hadn’t she learned her lesson about dating the wrong man? She hadn’t given Damien her heart; she’d known after a few dates that they weren’t meant to be together.
But Micah was different. He was Damien’s complete opposite, and she knew he had the power to break her heart if she was foolish enough to give it to him.
No, it was better to keep Micah firmly planted in the friend category. He was here because of Tommy.
And if she were honest, she needed friends right now. Work friends obviously couldn’t be trusted in times of trouble.
The way Gwen had stared at her with suspicion prior to Richard walking her out the door proved that.
She washed up and crawled into bed, tugging the covers to her chin. Closing her eyes, she lifted her heart in prayer. Please, Lord Jesus, hear my prayer. Please help us uncover the truth while keeping us safe in Your loving arms. Amen.
Micah sat staring at the computer for a long moment. He glanced over his shoulder when Bryn finally disappeared into the bedrooms. He squelched the urge to give her a good-night hug and kiss. He wasn’t there to date her. He was there to keep her safe.
And right now, he needed to stay focused. The best way to help Bryn was to figure out what was going on.
He pulled the computer closer and started with Richard Freeman.
When Micah had started his private investigator business, he’d purchased software access to databases that most people didn’t even know existed.
Bryn’s comment about Richard being the one responsible for the embezzlement and framing her for Damien’s death made sense.
While he didn’t like Damien on principal, it was possible that Damien had uncovered the truth behind Richard’s embezzling the money.
To throw suspicion off himself, Richard killed Damien, then set Bryn up to take the fall.
He wondered if Damien had been dead longer than twenty-four hours. The autopsy should reveal the timeline. If the corpse wasn’t too badly burned. Maybe Richard assumed that setting the house on fire would muddy the water about when Damien had been shot and killed.
Micah rose and made a pot of coffee. He’d pulled all-nighters before but knew from experience that staring at a screen lulled him into a state of fatigue. Very different from being stationed in enemy territory overseas.
Sipping his coffee, Micah worked on Richard Freeman for the next hour.
The guy owned two houses, one in Florida, along with two cars, a Corvette that he likely kept at the Florida house and a BMW SUV here in Wisconsin.
He made a mental note to ask Bryn how often Richard went to Florida.
Based on his initial investigation, Richard’s financial situation was solid.
The guy had two million tucked away in a retirement account along with the two properties and cars that were paid off.
He also owned a boat that he also kept in Florida.
Micah wondered if Richard had taken the money with the goal of retiring early. He could easily sell the property in Madison and move to Florida to live permanently.
Yet if that was the case, why steal from Damien? Why not just sell the company and split the proceeds? Did Richard think he was owed more than his partner?
Either way, Micah didn’t see any evidence of a large cash windfall. If Richard had taken the money, he’d likely hid the funds in an offshore account, like Switzerland or the Cayman Islands. Offshore wire transfers were much harder to track, and frankly, Micah didn’t have the resources to do that.
But the feds did. He made another note to ask Rex to check in with the Wisconsin FBI office. Now that two people were dead, Lori Eastman and Damien Rochester, he felt sure the feds would be interested in what was going on.
When he’d finished with Richard, he moved on to Damien. Unfortunately, he didn’t find anything of interest there either. Except maybe for the fact that Damien didn’t have as much money socked away or two properties and two cars.
That gave him pause. Why the discrepancy? Was it possible that Richard had gotten some of that money from an inheritance or some other source? Bryn had mentioned the two men were basically equal partners in the business.
His list of things to follow up on was growing.
He yawned and scrubbed his hands over his face.
Fatigue was hitting hard, so he walked over to stretch out on the sofa.
He’d learned in the army that short combat naps were essential to staying alive.
He didn’t think they were in danger here, Rex was the only one who knew where they were, so he didn’t set an alarm.
Five hours later, he awoke, going from groggy to fully alert in less than three seconds. He reached for his weapon and rolled to his feet, scanning for threats. It soon became apparent the sound he’d heard was coming from Bryn’s room.
Bolting down the hall, he didn’t hesitate to throw open her door, staying to the side and peering over the edge in case the gunman had somehow gotten inside. The room was empty, except for Bryn moving restlessly on the bed.
She mumbled something he couldn’t make out. Tension eased from his limbs as he realized she was having a bad dream. Tucking his weapon into the holster at his waist, he padded into the room and rested a hand on Bryn’s shoulder.
“Bryn, wake up. It’s just a dream.” He leaned back when she swung out at some unknown threat. “Bryn, it’s Micah. Wake up.”
“Huh?” She finally stopped struggling and peered up at him through the darkness. “What’s wrong?” She abruptly sat up, pushing her red hair from her eyes. “Have the police come to arrest me?”
“No, you were having a bad dream.” He frowned. “Did you dream you were being arrested?”
“No.” She blinked and looked around the room as if trying to remember where they were.
“I dreamed Damien was in the burning house, banging on the windows and begging me to let him out.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around her torso.
“It was awful. I could see the fire raging behind him. I screamed, then suddenly you were there.”
He sat on the edge of her bed. “That sounds terrifying, but remember, Rex said Damien died of a gunshot wound to the back of his head. He wasn’t burned alive in the house.”
“I know.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I don’t know why I dreamed he was screaming at me to let him out.”
“Maybe because you’re starting to believe Damien is innocent, rather than guilty of embezzling funds.
” He smiled reassuringly. “The subconscious mind can play tricks on us. I don’t think you should dwell on the dream or try to understand the meaning behind it. Why don’t you try to go back to sleep?”
“I don’t want to.” She shivered. “What time is it?”
He glanced at his watch. “Five forty-five in the morning. There’s time to sleep for another hour or so.”
She shook her head and climbed out of bed. She’d slept in her business clothes, which were now badly wrinkled. “I can’t. I’m usually an early bird. I normally get up at six to get to work by eight. Once I’m up, I’m up.”
“Okay, then I’ll make breakfast.” He rose, moving toward the door. “The stores won’t be open until nine, so we’ll head out then to buy you something comfortable to wear.”
“I can’t wait.” She smiled wryly. “Sorry to have woken you.”
“No problem. I have a few questions for you, but we can talk about that later.” He gave her a nod, then left the room, closing the door behind him to give her some privacy.
Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t barge into a woman’s bedroom. Yet nothing about this situation was normal. At least he hadn’t lost his soldier instincts. He rubbed the back of his neck as he headed back into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee.
The few hours of sleep had helped take the edge off. He hadn’t gotten as far into the investigation as he’d hoped, and other than the discrepancy between Richard’s and Damien’s financial situations, he’d found nothing out of the ordinary.
When Bryn padded into the kitchen, still wearing the socks over her blistered feet, he nodded at her. “Coffee’s almost ready. I’ll put new bandages on your feet before making breakfast.”
“I can do it.” She accepted the coffee, taking a careful sip. “I’m not helpless.”
He frowned. “I never said you were.”
“You mentioned having questions.” She carried her coffee mug to the table. He’d found a pad of paper and a pen and had scribbled notes while he worked. “I can barely read your handwriting.”
“Yeah, well, I can read it.” He filled a second mug, then joined her at the table. “Did Richard inherit any money? He has way more in assets compared to Damien.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have ways.” He waved a hand. “Part of my PI business is having access to various databases. I haven’t found much, other than Richard owns property here in Madison as well as in Tampa, Florida. Not to mention two rather expensive cars and a two-million-dollar retirement fund.”
“Really?” She looked surprised. “I knew about the Florida house, obviously. He heads down for a week every month during the winter. He was gone the end of March, but he was back in the office on Monday.”
“How does Damien feel about that?” He wondered if Damien resented his partner being gone so much.
“No idea. Damien never complained to me, if that’s what you’re asking.” She tipped her head to the side, her gaze going sharp. “You’re saying Damien doesn’t have similar money stashed away?”
“Nope. That’s why I was wondering if he might have resented Richard.” That sort of resentment could be the motive behind embezzling from the company. But murder? That took things to a whole new level. Yet he also knew that criminals would go to great lengths to hide their crimes.
How had Damien ended up dead? That was the puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.
“What’s this about offshore accounts?” Bryn glanced up at him. “You think that’s where the embezzled money is?”
“Exactly. Did you ever hear if either Richard or Damien used accounts in Europe or maybe in the Cayman Islands? Those are popular places to hide money.”
“Never.” She stared down at her coffee for a moment. “If Richard has assets here, it seems less likely he’s involved. Maybe the reason Damien doesn’t have a lot of assets on file is because they’re in those offshore accounts.”
“Maybe.” That was one possibility. “He never indicated he was short on funds, though, right?”
“Not while we dated. In fact, he was always extravagant. Making reservations at the most expensive restaurants, that kind of thing.” She grimaced. “It was impressive at first, but I grew annoyed with it after a while. I didn’t understand why he felt the need to flash his wealth around like that.”
He nodded, thinking that was interesting.
He always imagined people were drawn to those who were obviously wealthy.
He thought about how his buddy Mac had resisted falling for his wife, Lauren, because she came from money.
As it turned out, they were perfect for each other.
Lauren was one of the most down-to-earth women he’d ever met. And her daughter, Lucy, was adorable.
“Would you like me to make breakfast?” Bryn asked. “I have a feeling it would be best to talk to the police after I have something in my stomach.”
“I’ll do it.” He jumped up, anxious for something to do. “We don’t have to hurry in for that interview either. We’ll shop for clothes and shoes first.”
She wrapped her fingers around the coffee mug as if seeking warmth.
“I guess that’s fine. But I’d almost rather get the interview over with.
They questioned me for so long, repeating the same questions over and over again, I started to feel sick to my stomach.
I don’t think I’ll be able to relax until this is behind me. ”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He wondered if Lieutenant Krogan would treat her the same way this time around. It seemed likely he would. If for no other reason than Damien’s body was found inside her home.
“Did Damien have keys to your place?” he asked, glancing at her as he pulled eggs from the fridge.
“No! We weren’t—we didn’t . . .” She waved a hand, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. “You know. I told Lori we didn’t get that far along in our relationship, and that was the truth.”
“Okay, I had to ask.” The police would ask that and more. Lots more.
For some reason, he didn’t want to go straight to the police station for the interview. Obviously, he was Bryn’s alibi. She couldn’t have killed Damien, or Lori for that matter, since she was with him.
Yet he still didn’t like the situation. Damien’s dead body had been left inside her burning house as a dire message.
And that was even without Lori’s murder indicating Bryn was in danger.
Would the gunman position himself near the police station, waiting for them to show?
Logically, criminals should avoid getting too close to the police, but he refused to be lulled into a sense of complacency.
Every instinct in his body screamed at him to keep Bryn far away from everyone associated with this case. And he once again considered buying fake identities so they could disappear, forever.