Chapter Six #3
Elle glanced at Sara, who was watching with annoyed disapproval. “Boss?”
“She’s young,” Sara said irritably. “Like statutory young when Miller first met her. They married the day she turned eighteen, but they’d been together since she was sixteen and he was thirty.”
Clarke grimaced. “I know. And yuck. Anything else?”
“If she used Miller’s credit card, she’s not terribly bright,” Sara said. “But that makes more sense than Miller using his own card. I should think he’d know better.”
“Is he smart?” Clarke asked.
“Smart enough to hide from all of us,” Sara snarked.
“Fair enough.” He straightened and gave them a wave. “Well, I guess I’ll see you all day.”
Sara scowled. “Excuse me?”
He leaned back in. “I’m going to wait here for her, too.”
Sara exhaled through clenched teeth. “If she sees you, she’ll run.”
He shrugged. “Unmarked vehicle. She won’t know law enforcement is here. Now, if Miller is following you, he’ll know what you’re driving, so it’s more likely that you’ll send her running.” He patted the roof of their Tahoe. “Have a good morning, ladies.”
He walked back to his SUV and Elle rolled up her window. “He’s right about that. Miller must know what we’re driving if he’s following us.”
“How did he know that we think Miller is following us?” Sara asked flatly, her tone as accusing as Clarke’s had been.
“He asked me where I thought Miller was. I said if he did kill Dianne Foster because she told us about him, then that meant he was probably following us.”
Sara pinched the bridge of her nose. “What else did he ask you? Because he said that you told him squat.”
Elle couldn’t help but think that was nice of him. Maybe he really had been sorry for saying he had to protect his neighbors from her. Because that had stung far more than it should have.
Maybe because he’s right.
“He asked who else he should be protecting because we’d talked to them about Miller. I told him no one. Look, Sara, I need to be clear with you. I will not outright lie to the police unless we believe they’re dirty. A woman is dead who shouldn’t be, and Clarke is trying to find out who did it.”
“Solving the Foster woman’s homicide isn’t our job. Telling Clarke where to find Miller isn’t our job, either.”
“I know, but Dianne Foster deserves justice. So I won’t hinder his investigation by lying to him. That’s a hard line. If you can’t accept it, maybe we need to be having a conversation about my compatibility with this job.”
There. She’d said the quiet part out loud. Finally.
Sara held her gaze, her friend’s expression serious and a little sad. “I think we do. But not today, okay? Let’s find Miller and then we can talk.”
Elle pushed the job worry from her mind. It would still be there tomorrow or next week. Right now her focus had to be on Reece Miller. “Okay. What did Felicia say about a drone?”
Sara nodded, back to business. “She thinks she can borrow one from one of her search-and-rescue friends. If not, she’ll buy one with a five-mile range.”
“Good.” Elle settled her gaze on the pharmacy’s front entrance. “I’ll take first watch. You can nap or check the other pharmacies.”
Sara woke up her phone. “All right.”
But it really wasn’t all right and Elle thought that both of them knew it.
I might need to find something else to do with my life.
For now, she’d do the best she could finding Reece and Wendy Miller.
Mendocino, California
Thursday, January 22, 6:15 p.m.
“I can do that, Dad,” Penny said as Ronan began loading the dishwasher.
“You cooked, I clean. That’s how it’s always been.”
“I know, but you look stressed out.”
Because I am stressed out.
“I’m fine.”
“Liar,” Penny said affectionately.
“Fine. I’m no closer to finding Dianne’s killer than I was on Tuesday.
And I sat in my vehicle all damn day shadowing the bounty hunters.
” He also still needed to interview Samantha Jacobson, but her receptionist didn’t know when she’d be back from caring for her sick mother in Utah.
His taxes, he’d been assured, would be completed on time.
Samantha was working remotely. She hadn’t returned his calls to her cell, but he’d contacted the hospitals in Salt Lake City and discovered that her mother was in the ICU.
He’d had a lot of free time during the day, staking out the pharmacy with the bounty hunters.
He’d made a lot of phone calls. So far, the fingerprints on Dianne’s murder weapon hadn’t come back and the coroner was still waiting on tox results before submitting the autopsy report.
He was spinning his wheels and he hated that.
He had, however, learned a lot about Elle Randolph, both from googling her record and from watching her with her boss. Lambert had glared at him all day while Elle had sent him apologetic looks. He wanted to stay angry with her but was finding it difficult to do.
“So you’re following the same leads as the bounty hunters?” Penny asked. “What’s wrong with that?”
Ronan scowled. “What’s wrong with that is that I am the cop. They aren’t.”
“But chasing bail jumpers is their business.”
“Not Elle’s.” He winced as soon as the words came out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that.
“Elle?” Penny’s brows were practically lifted off her forehead.
“Ms. Randolph,” he corrected himself stiffly.
Penny’s lips twitched. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
Ronan groaned. “Stop. Just stop.”
“I don’t think so. What do you mean, this isn’t Elle’s business? She is a bounty hunter. Is she good at her job?”
“Yeah,” Ronan admitted grudgingly. “She has one of the higher recovery rates of hunters statewide.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Ronan put the last plate in the dishwasher. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.
But that wasn’t true. He’d upset her the night before by saying he was protecting his community from her, yet she’d still defended him to her boss.
She’d told Sara Lambert that she wouldn’t lie to the police, and Sara wasn’t pleased about that. He’d noted the tension between the two women and hoped he hadn’t made it worse.
He’d respected Elle Randolph when he’d watched that press conference after she saved the baby from the fire. He still respected her.
And he was unhappy with how he’d treated her.
“What did you do, Dad?” Penny asked softly.
Ronan sighed. His girl was so perceptive. “Lost my temper and said some mean things.”
Penny smiled sweetly. “Then apologize.”
“I did and she eventually accepted. But…”
“You still feel bad.”
“A little,” he admitted.
A lot.
“Offer an olive branch. You’re a good man, Dad, and you’re a pretty good judge of character, too. If you’re unhappy with yourself? I’d listen to that voice.”
He met her unwavering gaze for a long moment. Her expression was open and full of love and concern and his heart squeezed hard in his chest. “I love you.”
She grinned. “I am pretty awesome. I love you, too. Can’t you offer her some kind of truce? If you’re not working together, than at least you don’t have to work at odds with each other.”
“That would be ideal. What kind of olive branch should I offer?”
“Something small. Not expensive. Something sweet.” Her eyes lit up. “Something local that she might have never tried before.”
“What are you thinking?” he asked warily.
“I’ve got the perfect thing. Guaranteed to heal all rifts.”
He smiled down at her. “I’m all ears.”