Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1)
11.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The room was a wreck. Overturned lamps and chairs. Drawers and cabinets were open with files and papers scattered everywhere. Bowman lived alone, so there was no one who could identify any missing valuables that were kept under lock and key. The housekeeper could only tell them so much.

The scene looked like a robbery gone wrong, but Trent would bet his left nut that this was all staged. That whoever got rid of Deuce—and he was certain the man was also murdered—also got rid of Arnold Bowman.
 

It troubled him that, if he was objective about this and did not have a personal knowledge of Cassie, she would have been at the top of his suspect list. The next person he’d most likely question was Wyatt Stratford. But because he had intimate knowledge of the town of Misty Grove and some of its residents, he’d put his money on one of their enemies, who most likely was the same person who’d hired Pia Larkin. The problem was, Riley didn’t know this and would probably push to bring Cassie in for questioning.

The idea burned through his veins like lava. Fuck, keeping Misty Grove safe and being sheriff of Buckland County was like navigating a tightrope.
 

Trent approached the center of the room and crouched beside Arnold Bowman’s body, which was sprawled face down. Blood pooled around his head. Chalk marker already outlined his shape. The CSI techs were now laying yellow numbered markers on their evidence collection.

“What a day, huh?” Riley said, getting down beside Trent. “Signs of a struggle. Doesn’t look like any guns or knives were used. You think he died from that head wound?”

“Most likely blunt force trauma,” Trent acknowledged grimly as he eyed the tech placing a number by a paperweight that had fallen under the coffee table.
 

“You think that’s our murder weapon?” Riley nodded at the paperweight.

“Doesn’t add up, don’t you think?” Trent replied. “If we’re thinking the same person was capable of taking out Deuce and Bowman in the same night, given one had a guard and the other had state-of-the-art security in his home, would our perp leave the murder weapon laying around?”

Riley was thoughtful for a moment. “What if Bowman knew his killer? They had an altercation and it devolved into violence. Explains how he got through the house’s security. The housekeeper said the alarms were off when she came in. Plus, there’s no immediate sign of forced entry.”

“I’d agree that Bowman knew his killer, but I doubt it wasn’t premeditated.” Trent rose from his crouch and addressed the CSI techs. “Look for possible discarded weapons. In and around the house and the bushes.” It was probably at the bottom of a lake somewhere.

A deputy came striding in with a frustrated look on his face. “We don’t have security footage starting from last night.”

Well, shit.

Trent turned to Riley. “Our killer is very thorough. This was premeditated all right. Grab all electronic devices. Bowman’s phone, laptop, every goddamned disk and hard drive.” Bowman had been ready to hand over a list of his clients. It looked like one of them didn’t want that to happen.
 

*****

“I’ll try to come by tonight.”

“Trent, you’ve got a homicide and another probable one to contend with. Worry about that instead of me,” Cassie spoke gently through the phone. “Has Deuce’s results come back yet?”

“I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation with you, Cassie.” He did not say it was because she could be at the top of the suspect list, but he was pretty sure she got that.

“I understand.”

Trent changed the subject and asked about what she had been up to. He didn’t see her yesterday either and four days without having a twenty on her was making him edgy. There was this anxiety crawling beneath his skin he couldn’t shake off, and it had everything to do with Cassie.
 

His intercom buzzed. “Sheriff.” His assistant’s voice came crackling through.

Barely 8:00 a.m. and he had not had his first cup of coffee yet. “Hold on, Cassie.” He pressed the answer button. “What is it, Betty?”

“District Attorney Grimes is here to see you.”

Shit.

“Send him in.”

“Cassie, I need to take care of this. Remember, stay at the ranch.”

There was a deep exhale on the other end of the line. “Okay.”

Trent ended the call, wanting to get into his pickup and drive over to Montgomery Ranch. But duty called, and this was the first time ever he wanted to say “just fuck it” to his job over a woman. Grimes walked in with Deputy Riley following closely behind.

This did not bode well.

“Counselor, what can I do for you this morning?” His eyes flashed over to his investigator who couldn’t look at him.
 

“I’ll get right to the point, Sheriff,” Grimes said. “Deputy Riley has concerns he can’t perform his investigation into Bowman’s murder if you are involved in the case.”

“And this has everything to do with my relationship with Cassandra Reed?”

Grimes brows shot to his hairline. “Is this an admission of a relationship with Cassandra Reed?”

Their relationship didn’t have a clear definition yet, not because of Trent, but why deny it? As far as he was concerned, Cassie was his. “Yes.”

Grimes nodded to Riley, who laid a folder on his desk. “Then I will need to ask you to refrain from any contact or communication with her.”

“On what grounds?” Trent asked, keeping his tone calm and steady. “Are we forgetting who was the victim here? Who was nearly abducted?” He grabbed the folder and opened it. “A fingerprint report ...” His eyes scanned the document and he exploded. Rising to his feet, he glared at his investigator. “What the fuck, Riley?”

“The report states clearly that the fingerprints on the paperweight matches the prints we have of Cassandra Reed when she was thrown into lockup a couple of years ago,” Riley defended. “The blood on the paperweight belonged to Bowman. I know everything seemed so cut and dry, but we cannot deny the evidence.”

“All this proves is she’s being framed,” Trent gritted out, frustration in his voice.

“Grimes,” Trent turned to the DA. “We had this conversation yesterday. Cassie had an alibi the night Bowman was murdered. She was at the ranch and Mac confirmed it. I told you someone was after her. We thought it was Bowman because of a vendetta, but it appears to be so much deeper.” And he wanted to yell at them that Cassie was an ex-assassin, no way would she make a stupid mistake like leaving prints behind, much less the murder weapon.

“Yes, you said it might have something to do with the ranch or Stratford land,” Grimes said. “I believe you when you say something bigger is at work here, but we cannot ignore the evidence we have on hand. There was prior friction between the two. The fingerprints on the presumed murder weapon is enough to establish probable cause to issue a warrant for Cassandra Reed’s arrest.”

Trent slammed his palm on the table angrily. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, Stone, I’m not,” Grimes shot back. “We have to follow procedure, and I clearly see how Riley is correct in his assessment that your feelings for Cassandra Reed are causing problems for this investigation. I suggest you stand down and let Riley do his job. Otherwise, I’ll have to issue an order to have you suspended. Now, I think you’ll be of much better use if you pursue the case of Cassie’s abduction, but stay away from Deuce’s autopsy results. You said there was a nurse you were trying to track?”

“Pia Larkin, but I don’t think that’s her real name. Trail went cold in North Carolina,” Trent confirmed, trying to calm the fuck down. He couldn’t lose his shit right now and put his leadership of the sheriff’s department in jeopardy. If Cassie was going to be brought into county lockup, he wanted to be here. It would kill him not to be able to get close to her, but it was better than having no power or control at all.

“Are we clear, Sheriff?” Grimes pressed. “You are not going to warn Cassandra Reed that Riley is on his way to arrest her.”

“She’s not a flight risk,” Trent argued.

“Good,” Grimes replied. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

Trent let out a derisive laugh. “I sure fucking hope so.”

“I’m taking another unit with me,” Riley informed them.

“Scared of her, Riley?” Trent taunted.

“I saw that video footage of her from the hospital, which you tried to withhold from me, I might add.” Riley smirked and glanced at Grimes. “You should watch it, Counselor, and you’ll see how dangerous Cassandra Reed is. I’m not taking any chances, and if she resists arrest, what would constitute justifiable force?”

Fury came swift and brutal as Trent slammed Riley up against the wall. “You piece of shit! You hurt her and I’m going to fucking end you!”

“You hear that, Counselor?” Riley whined. “He’s threatening me.”

“You had that coming, you moron,” Grimes said in irritation. “Sheriff, let him go. I need Riley to make an arrest.”

Trent let go of his investigator in disgust. He knew he hadn’t been sheriff for long, but he expected some type of loyalty from his men. Not them going around his back with evidence and circumvent his authority. He’d trusted Riley and it bugged him how his investigator had turned into this treacherous bastard. He quickly put the desk between them because the compulsion to beat Riley to a pulp was still pounding strong in his veins.

Riley straightened up, shot him a look of triumph, and left the room. Grimes gave Trent a resigned look. “This is for the best, Stone. If she’s really innocent, we don’t want the real perps to destroy our case because of your involvement with Ms. Reed. Besides, wouldn’t she be safer in county jail if someone was really after her?”

“You don’t sound like you believe she’s innocent.”

“She’s innocent until proven guilty,” Grimes replied. “But I’m a prosecutor. I rely on evidence, and until I see evidence to the contrary, she’s my suspect.”

“I’m going to make sure she’s alone in her cell,” Trent said tightly. “Give me that much control over my department at least.”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” Grimes agreed, inclining his head in assent before leaving Trent’s office.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“What in the world?”

Cassie rushed out of the ranch house when she saw two cruisers plodding down the driveway. The gate was locked. It had remained locked since she’d come home from the hospital.
 

“Ms. Cassie? What’s going on?” Mac asked, appearing by her side.

“Get Colt. I think he’s in the annex.”

They knew this was happening, but it was too soon. Her eyes anxiously searched the cruisers. No Trent.

She dragged out her phone and called him. Her call went directly to voicemail.
Motherfucker.

My job always came first.
Wasn’t that what he’d told her when she had asked him why his other relationships had failed?
 

Trying to fight the pinch of betrayal in her heart, she squared her shoulders and waited for the cruisers to stop in front of her. She recognized Owen Riley—the lead investigator in the county. He was a lanky man about her age and height. Briggs said he thought he was some hotshot detective.
 

“Cassandra Reed?”

“Yup, that would be me. Where’s Trent?”

“He’s been banned from participating in the case.” Riley walked up toward her, another deputy beside him with his hand already on his weapon. Shit. They were going to arrest her.

The investigator swallowed hard as he took out his handcuffs. Cassie wanted to laugh because it was obvious he was fearful of her. They should be, but she wasn’t stupid.

She held up her wrists, startling the officer with her supplication. He immediately slapped the cuffs on one wrist, turned her around, and secured the other behind her. “Ms. Reed, you’re under arrest for the murder of Arnold Bowman. You have the right to remain silent . . .” As the deputy continued to Mirandize her, she spied Colt, Matt, and Mac walking briskly toward their group.

“Cassie,” Colt roared. The damned officers were obviously jumpy and immediately pointed their weapons toward them.

“No!” Cassie yelled at the deputies. “Put your guns down. Jeez. Colt, it’s okay. They’re taking me to lockup. There’s been a mistake.”

“Don’t say another damn word, Cassie,” Colt seethed as he stalked closer. “I’ll get you a good lawyer. You’ll be out in no time.”

“... I guess you can afford an attorney,” Riley said. “Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

“Yes.”

Riley twisted her arm in an awkward angle to lead her into the cruiser. She winced, but didn’t give any other indication she was affected by the manhandling.

“You bastard!” she heard Matt shout, but also heard Colt calm her brother down.
 

“Your boyfriend is a coward,” Riley whispered into her ear. “He didn’t want to lose his precious position as the sheriff and gave you up easily. Is that the kind of man you want?” Without waiting for her answer, he shoved her in the back of the vehicle and didn’t waste any time driving off from the ranch.

No, that wasn’t the kind of man she wanted, but that wasn’t Trent. Riley had said it in the beginning. Trent was not allowed to participate in an ongoing investigation, and she’d bet it was because of his closeness to her. She understood the untenable position he was put in and didn’t hold it against him. It was fortunate that the investigator thought she was some clueless chick who didn’t understand the importance of playing your cards right. You didn’t show your hand until you were sure to win. You bluff. And a bigger part of her believed that when it came down to it, Trent would stand up for her. Still there was that little niggle of doubt that said he would realize he should just walk away from all the trouble she represented.
 

She was lost in her thoughts when she heard the deputy curse. There was a sixteen-wheeler rig blocking the road to Edington, right before a road that would take a detour through the backwoods.
 

Interesting.

“Looks like we have to take Route 11.”

Cassie didn’t say anything as Riley made a left toward the road detour. She tested the chain on the handcuffs. They were not standard issue, but Titanium.
 

Other books

How to Break a Heart by Kiera Stewart
Navy SEAL to Die For by Elle James
The Mountain Midwife by Laurie Alice Eakes
Game Six by Mark Frost
Regret by Elana Johnson
Last Stand: Patriots (Book 2) by William H. Weber
Binding Arbitration by Elizabeth Marx