Chapter 14
While they were rooting through the storage unit, Walker had Quentin start a background check on both Parker Gates and Marcus Anderson, Serena’s ex, including a deep dive into their whereabouts the night of the assault.
Walker didn’t really understand all the intricacies of how to hack into someone’s calendar and phone, but for Quentin it was another Saturday.
Serena had provided Mr. Higgins’ email address, so he’d forwarded it on to Quentin as well.
Getting background on Bobby was going to be more problematic, and when he saw the kid again, he’d find a way to grab his coffee cup or something that might have a print on it.
If Garrett didn’t come up with something first.
Walker’s phone pinged with an incoming text from Quentin telling him that a full report on Marcus Anderson was in his inbox, with no real red flags. But that Walker would probably want to interview him, in case.
His next text said he was going to work on Parker Gates and then move on to Mr. Higgins.
He’d met Parker Gates exactly once, the first summer Serena had showed up in town out of the blue. Walker had been in The Menagerie, changing out a lightbulb for Madeline when Serena’s father walked in like a thundercloud, demanding to know where his “recalcitrant brat” was.
Madeline had torn him a new one for not only emotionally abandoning his dying wife, but his grieving daughter as well and sent Parker packing with his tail between his legs. Walker had stood there in awe and fallen in love with the woman on the spot.
He’d found out later that she’d heard the whole thing. It was all beyond his comprehension. His family would never have used words like that about him. It would have never entered their minds.
With his knowledge of Gates, he was pretty sure the man wouldn’t lift a finger when it came to Serena, not even to scare her. He didn’t care enough to make the effort.
Garrett would undoubtedly be looking into these men as well, but Walker knew Quentin’s findings would be more comprehensive and likely faster.
If there were any gray areas about how the information had been obtained, then Walker could simply mention it to Garrett as an aside and let the law take it from there.
He had no desire for credit in bringing down whoever the bad guy was, he wanted to keep Serena safe.
About an hour into their search they finally unearthed the correct box, a massive crate that had what seemed like a thousand bits and pieces inside. Serena unwrapped the figurine of a dancing woman, her skirts held aloft, from the bubble wrap and held it up to the harsh glare of the light bulb.
“It’s pretty. Art Deco, I think,” she said, and pulled out her phone, snapping a picture and sending it to a search engine. “Huh,” she remarked at the results that had come up. “It’s too bad there’s only one, because they’re worth twenty-five hundred bucks as a pair.”
“Could the other one be in another box? Or further down in that one?” Walker asked.
Serena shrugged. “Unlikely. Estate sales are usually pretty anal about boxing everything up as it’s purchased, especially something like this. Also, these are high end. If the other one was available, it would have been sent to a fine art dealer, not an estate sale.”
That made sense, he supposed, as they carefully put the figurine aside.
“I’d like to catalogue the rest of this later, since it had good stuff,” Serena said and looked hopefully at him.
He gave a long-suffering sigh and lifted the crate. When he caught her stare at him flexing and easily moving the big box, it made the pulled muscle he was pretty sure he was getting worth it as he shifted it to the front of the unit.
Albert Higgins had a flawless background that was almost too clean to believe. But having met the man, Walker believed it. He’d figured it was a dead end, but at least now he could take him off the suspect list.
Once they arrived back at the house, Walker excused himself and took a moment to review Quentin’s report on Marcus Anderson. By the time he was done he almost wished Anderson was the perp, because the guy was a cast-iron prick.
According to Quentin’s digging, he had a solid alibi, wherein he was cheating on his own wife with his business partner’s adult daughter.
It wasn’t just the cheating, he was also shady as fuck when it came to business.
If Walker and Quentin leaked what Quentin had uncovered, the man’s life would be over.
He wouldn’t do time, but he’d be ostracized for certain.
When they spoke on the phone ten minutes later, every single assumption he had was solidified.
“Why would I spend any time on that woman?” Anderson asked. “She’s as frigid as they come. I wasted two years of my life on her. The plan was that she was going to reconcile with her father and bring his business our way. Then she backed out.”
Yeah, Walker wanted to hit the guy. Serena was the very opposite of frigid, at least in his experience, and that had absolutely nothing to do with the kissing.
She was warm and funny and made it a point to care for those around her.
Could she really have been that different in Dallas?
Walker doubted it. But he’d also met guys like Marcus before, guys who made Gordon Gekko from the old movie Wall Street look like a charmer, where money was the only thing worth their time or attention.
He was also one hundred percent sure that she’d never, ever thought about reconnecting with Parker Gates and that’d it’d been Anderson’s really, really bad idea.
So he crossed the man off his suspect list, paraphrased Quentin’s report and his observations, and sent it to Garrett via email.
There was no reason for the sheriff to do extra legwork on that piece of shit, though he certainly could if he wanted to check Quentin’s work.
And if some of that information about his sketchy business deals made it to the right eyes, then it was simply fate.
They scrounged from the fridge that night rather than going out and put together a simple dinner of sandwiches and chips, settling in on the couch in the sitting room.
“Since you found Mr. Higgins’ figurine and the café is closed, what do you want to do tomorrow?” Walker asked, hoping she didn’t want to go back to the storage unit. He’d had enough antiquing for a little bit.
“I was thinking about a hike out to Devil’s Bridge to get some exercise,” she said. “You up for that?”
He nodded. “Haven’t done that one in a long time. The season hasn’t officially started, so it shouldn’t be too crowded.”
“I want to sleep in to the glorious hour of seven,” she proclaimed and made him grin.
He was sorry to burst her bubble, but he had to tell her he’d talked to Marcus.
Had to ask if any of her exes before him would come all the way up here to assault her.
Just like with Anderson and her father, he doubted it.
The assault hadn’t been personal, but a means to an end, otherwise they wouldn’t have come back.
“Listen…” he began.
She tipped her head to one side and looked at him consideringly. “I’m not going to like what you have to say, am I?”
“No,” he said. “But I have to tell you. I talked to Marcus Anderson a little while ago.”
Those amazing blue eyes hardened the tiniest bit, and Walker didn’t know if it was because he’d called Anderson or because the man was a complete asshole. “He has an alibi for the morning of your assault. I didn’t want him to catch you off guard by calling or texting to bitch about my questions.”
“Oh, Marcus would never deign to spend his precious time calling me,” she assured him, a wry smile twisting her lips now. “He would never go to the effort of coming here and dirtying his hands with something as base as violence. I could have told you he was a dead end.”
“I had to look into him. He’s a cold bastard, that’s for sure. Is there anyone else I should be investigating?”
She shook her head. “Nothing of note, and no broken hearts along the way. I was too busy throwing elbows on my way to the top for hearts and flowers. Kind of like Marcus. Or Parker.”
He didn’t like the almost wounded expression on her face. A look he was positive she didn’t know he saw. Felt deep down in a place he didn’t like to venture often.
“He didn’t deserve you, you know,” Walker said.
“Oh, I don’t know, we were in the same place at the same time. I simply know that he’s done with me, and the feeling is mutual.” Her tone was flat.
“My ex-wife said I’m like him. Cold,” he blurted. Anything to take that look off her face.
It worked because she laughed and it opened her up when she’d been shutting down. “Walker Landry, you are the furthest thing from Marcus or Parker in the universe, and I’m not saying that to inflate your already healthy ego.” Now her eyes were positively dancing.
He wished she was right, but Carrie had been pretty clear when she’d filed for divorce, so he just shrugged.
“Okay, let’s suspend reality for one second. What did she say that would make you think that?”
Now he squirmed a bit. He’d been fine talking about her past, but bringing up his own wasn’t something he was comfortable with and hadn’t anticipated.
“She said I was more invested in my friends than I was with her.” He still wasn’t sure he understood what she’d meant, but their life together had become a nightmarish slog.
He’d figured his commitment to his team and the long, weird hours of his new job had been what she’d referred to.
Plus, she’d never liked the ranch and that wasn’t something he could abide.
Serena looked absolutely befuddled. “I mean, they’re your friends. What were you supposed to do, not talk to them again after you got married?”
He shrugged again. In his mind, the subject was done, but obviously not to Serena.