Chapter 3 #2
Darby hadn’t expected the inheritance, since Uncle Grant had cared for her grandmother until her death.
Everyone, including Grant, had expected him to inherit the fortune.
Her uncle had stooped to filing a lawsuit to contest the will and try to claim the money she’d received.
But her grandmother had left a note with her attorney, revealing that Uncle Grant had squandered much of her wealth, so she’d cut him out of the will.
Darby’s bequest six months ago was all her grandmother had left.
Her uncle was determined to get his hands on that too.
3. Uncle Grant for the inheritance money.
She didn’t know how he’d get his hands on the money if she died. She added him to the list regardless.
Suzanne Crompton, her former employee, earned fourth place on the list. She’d trashed the business ever since Darby fired her for stealing from a house-cleaning client.
Afterward, Suzanne had started her own business in direct conflict with Darby’s.
But she continued to conduct an online smear campaign in retaliation.
Would she would go so far as to hire men to abduct and murder Darby, just to get revenge?
Unlikely, still … She jotted down her name.
4. Suzanne Crompton, disgruntled former employee.
Agent Walker returned, and her face warmed. She fought the sudden urge to hide the notepad so he wouldn’t see how incredibly pathetic her life was. Instead, she handed it over to him.
He read through the names. “Is this everyone who might have a grudge against you?”
“Everyone I can think of.” She covered her face with her hands. “How can this many people hate me?”
What had her life become, that she had such conflict with so many others?
He glanced at the list. “What this about an uncle and an inheritance?”
“It’s from my grandmother. She passed away last year.”
His voice softened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, but I hardly knew her. My father died when I was nine. After my mother remarried and we moved away, I saw my grandmother only a handful of times. But she was always kind to me. I remember visiting her in a huge house by the ocean. Even as a child, I knew she was well-to-do. The lawyer told me over the years, Grant squandered most of it. He’d taken over her finances and forced her into a nursing home before she died, but my uncle didn’t know that she’d put away some money for me into a trust. That fact came out after her death.
He believes he’s entitled to it because he and his family took care of her all those years. He’s suing me to recover it.”
“How substantial is this inheritance?”
She shrugged, embarrassed by the amount. “$500,000.”
He whistled and made a note on the pad. “I’ve seen people do worse for a lot less. We’ll check him out.” He moved to the next name on the list. “Who’s Suzanne Crompton?’
“She used to work for me. I own a cleaning business and she was one of my employees. A client caught her stealing. She was on tape digging through her jewelry box. I had no choice but to let her go, but she’s been retaliating for a year now.
Ever since she opened a cleaning business, she’s been smearing my name and reputation. She’s cost me several clients.”
“She didn’t go to jail for the theft?”
Darby shook her head. “She has an unbelievable talent for avoiding trouble. In this case, the necklace she took was valued at over a $1,000 which made her theft a felony. It was never recovered. She would have gone to prison, but the tape disappeared from evidence. The prosecutor had to drop the charges.”
He frowned at the injustice. “How does that happen?”
She had her own suspicions in that matter. “Did I forget to mention she’s dating the Sheraton police chief?”
That caused him to raise a curious eyebrow. She hoped he wasn’t the kind of agent who refused to believe anything bad about another law enforcement officer.
“I’m not saying he’s involved,” she hurried to say. “But I think he used his position to pull some strings on Suzanne’s behalf in order to get her out of trouble.” Suzanne seemed to have a way of manipulating men to do what she wanted. She had Chief Dean under her spell too.
“We’ll check into that too.” Agent Walker’s vague, emotionless response told her nothing about his opinion of her accusation.
He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and looked through it.
“I had Sheriff Malone pull some background information and discovered multiple noise complaints your neighbor made against you. I notice you didn’t put her on your list.”
She groaned at yet another reminder of people who made her life difficult. “My neighbor, Mrs. Buford. When I was going through the divorce, I needed to make extra money, so I started boarding and training dogs. I have four now. They can get rowdy at times, and she likes to complain.”
“You don’t think they bother her?”
She didn’t like always having to defend herself.
“I’m not saying they don’t. But before I started training dogs, she filed complaints that I mowed my lawn too loudly and that my son played too loudly in the backyard.
Everything we do annoys her, so I ignore her.
We don’t have an HOA so I suppose complaining to the police was the next best thing. ”
He jotted down the information, a curious look on his face.
What was that about? “She’s sixty years old. Surely you don’t think she had something to do with this. She barely knows how to use a computer.”
“You’re probably right, but we should still check into her.”
Her face warmed with embarrassment at what he must think of her. “I know you’re wondering how can one person have so many problems, right?”
His eyes lingered on her, warm and understanding as he gently shook his head. “I was thinking you have a lot going on.”
He was being kind and she appreciated that. She owed this man his life, but she wasn’t out of danger yet.
“We need to figure out who is after you, and we will, but I also need to protect you. I can move you to a safe house, but it’ll make it harder to flesh out the person behind these attacks.”
“Why? I thought you were investigating.”
“True, but a lot of people have seen that offer and might try to collect. On the other hand, if you go into hiding, the person behind the attack may realize they’ve been discovered and try to call off the hit.
Then we may never know who hired those men to abduct you, and you’ll never know when the danger has passed. ”
She shuddered at the thought of going home to an empty house with a target on her back. And David’s camp would end in a few days. Never would she bring him home under these conditions. Tears pressed at her eyes as she looked to him for advice. “What do I do?”
“I can protect you.” He pulled his chair closer and leaned in, voice low. “Hiding won’t help us catch them. If you’re willing, I can stay with you. Pretend to be your boyfriend. It gives me an excuse to stay close.”
Her heart skipped. “Pretend to be …”
“No one needs to know I’m FBI. It’s safer than you being alone. I’ll handle protection and help with the investigation. But this keeps you in play and the suspect unaware we’re closing in.”
It was madness. Letting a stranger into her home. But something about him—his quiet intensity, determination in his eyes, the way he spoke with conviction—made her want to believe him.
He saw her hesitation and misread it. “I know you don’t know me, but Sheriff Malone can vouch for me. He’s already contacted my supervisor.”
She should be thankful for his offer. But she didn’t know how many threats against her were out there. “You’re sure you can keep me safe?”
Agent Walker’s gaze met hers, unwavering. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Darby.”
Something shifted inside her. Trust, maybe. Or something warmer.
“My son comes home Christmas Eve,” she said. “Until then … okay. You can stay.”
He nodded, but his gaze lingered. “We’ll get through this. Together.” He reached and covered her hands with his.
For the first time in days, she felt a flicker of something stronger than fear—hope.
She was no longer alone.
Clay closed the conference room door behind him and leaned against it, dragging in a breath as if he’d held it for hours.
Convincing Darby to let him stay with her had been brutal—every second of it.
The pain in her eyes still echoed in his chest. She was terrified, clinging to composure by a thread, and he hated seeing it.
He’d promised to protect her.
He prayed he could keep that promise.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Sheriff Malone rounded the corner and motioned him toward his office. Clay followed without a word, tension still coiled beneath his skin.
“Did you find something?” Clay asked as he stepped into the sheriff’s office.
Malone moved behind his desk, sat down, and folded his hands. “The search team found Morton and Winters hiding in the woods. When they moved in, the suspects opened fire. My deputies returned it. Both suspects are dead.”
Clay’s jaw tensed. He leaned on the desk and exhaled slowly. The questions he’d hoped to ask had just died with them. Who hired you? Was it the ex-husband? Or did you answer an anonymous ad?
“Have we found anything else?” he asked.
“I’ve had my guys digging through their financials since you ID’d them. No large deposits. Nothing suspicious so far. But we’re still looking.”
Clay frowned. That didn’t add up. The fake hitman profile Cooper had used had received ten thousand up front. If Morton and Winters didn’t have that money in the bank …
“They might’ve paid in cash,” he said. “That could mean Morton and Winters knew the person who hired them. We need to run down their known associates and interview coworkers and friends. Maybe someone heard them bragging or saw them spending money.”
Malone lifted a brow. “Might not need to. The supply company confirmed all their delivery vans were accounted for. So we ran the VIN on the one used in the abduction.”
Clay straightened, sensing they’d found something. “And?”
“Someone rented it two days ago—from a car-rental place in Sheraton. You’ll never guess who.”
A knot tightened in Clay’s gut. “Not Brent Foster?”
Malone nodded grimly. “Yep. It gets better. Morton and Winters worked at his car dealership. Been on his payroll for over a year.”
Clay stared at the sheriff, blinking once—twice—as his brain refused to process the words.
Then he let out a short, disbelieving laugh that carried no humor.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, voice low and sharp.
“Foster rented the van? In his own name? What was he thinking? That no one would check? That we’d overlook the literal paper trail?
He might as well have handed us a signed confession and a selfie along with the keys. ”
“It’s been my experience that most criminals aren’t master-minds, but this …” The sheriff ran a hand over his neck and sighed. “This takes this cake for sure. I’ll have a deputy bring him in for questioning.”
“I want to be in the room.” This might be over quicker than he’d expected.
The sheriff shook his head. “Bad idea. If you're going undercover as her boyfriend, he can’t know who you are. He sees you now, it blows the whole thing.”
Clay bristled at being shut out. “If he’s the guy, I might not need to keep protecting her.”
“Maybe. But we’re not there yet. We have a connection, but it’s not enough to prove he set this up. We still have work to do.”
Clay didn’t like sitting on the sidelines, but Malone had a point.
Staying close to Darby, undercover, gave them an edge.
Finally, he agreed. “While you work Foster, I’ll start looking into the others on her list. The uncle who’s trying to grab her inheritance—he stands out.
That kind of greed doesn’t vanish overnight. ”
“And the others on the list?”
“One’s a former employee—fired for theft. Plenty of motive, but I doubt she’s got the resources for a hit. The other’s a cranky neighbor who hates noise. Unless she’s a secret criminal mastermind, I’m not too worried.”
Malone gave a short laugh. “Still worth checking out.”
“I’ll get Cooper running background checks on all of them. And I’ll contact Sheraton PD to request extra patrols around Darby’s house.”
At that, the sheriff’s expression shifted. He stood and quietly closed the office door. “Hold off on that.”
Clay narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“I don’t want to make accusations, but I don’t trust the police chief in Sheraton. Guy’s dirty. Nothing I can pin on him—yet—but he’s not clean.”
Clay remembered Darby’s own suspicions about him. Not good. But suspicions were all they were so far. “You expect me to operate in his jurisdiction without letting him know?”
“You crossed state lines. That makes it federal. You’re not required to involve him.”
That kind of working around the law made Clay uneasy. “Technically, no. But the abduction happened in his city. And Sheraton’s a small town. He’ll surely hear about it.”
Malone sighed then conceded. “Yeah, he will. Fine, I’ll make the call myself. But I want you to know—I don’t trust him. Not saying he’s involved in this situation, but if there’s a bad apple in this mess, he’s a darn good candidate.”
“Understood.” He would do his best to give the chief a wide berth. Clay stood and shook the sheriff’s hand. “I’ll keep you updated.”
As he walked back toward the conference room, his mind raced. He had no proof the chief was involved—but if Malone waved a red flag, Clay would pay attention. He fired off a text to Cooper:
Run a deep check on Brent Foster and the Sheraton police chief. Something’s off.
He tucked away his phone and braced himself before opening the conference room door. Time to take Darby home—and step fully into the role of the man pretending to love her.