ToServeAndProtect (11 page)

“I’m sorry. It didn’t feel real. Like a dream, I was
watching myself from somewhere else. I hoped I’d wake up and Elliot would be
his pissy self in the office, tell me to leave him the hell alone and take
another one of his long naps.

“But after I left Albert’s office, I went to the
bank.” She leaned across the table. “Dawn, the accounts are empty.”

“Empty?”

“Shh, keep your voice down. I’m scared now. I called
his accountant from the car.” She paused and looked around to see if anyone was
eavesdropping. If what she felt was paranoia before, there was no word to
describe what she was feeling now. Was she recognized from the news? Were cops
watching to see if she’d lead them to the body, or perhaps the people
responsible for taking her father, correction Elliot, were lying in wait to get
her, too?

“He said he wished he could help me, but Elliot fired
him six months ago. He’d used the same firm for twenty years. What would make
him fire the very people he’d always trusted?”

“The accountant didn’t say why?”

McKenna shook her head. “Not really.” With a sigh her
shoulders slumped. “He said Elliot had made some risky investments. Could he
have lost everything in six months?”

“I don’t know.” Dawn took a sip of coffee. Her face
scrunched while she thought. “Did anyone really know what was going on in
Elliot’s head?”

“No.” With her elbow on the table, McKenna rested her
forehead in her hand. “Since I don’t have a job anymore, I’ll try and find
out.”

Dawn reached into her purse for a pen. Taking a
deposit slip from the back of her checkbook, she said, “Let’s make a list of
all the questions we have. Prioritize.”

“I only have one question,” McKenna said. “Why would
someone kill Elliot?”

“That could be a list itself. He wasn’t exactly making
friends and influencing people.”

No, her father was reclusive and often abrasive.
“Well, I hope we find out quickly. I don’t think I have much time before two
tenacious detectives throw the book at me.”

Chapter
Eight

Black absorbed the heat of the summer sun. It also
described perfectly the way she felt inside, a black hole. “I can’t do this.”
McKenna stood with Dawn and watched people file past an empty casket draped
with yellow roses.

“You’re going to bury the coffin without a body?” Dawn
asked.

“Yes. If they ever find Elliot—”

“Stop. I don’t really want to know.”

A picture of Elliot was placed next to the coffin.
“It’s strange to think I’ll never see him again.” The photo had been taken six
months before in recognition of his contributions to Ronac. His image hung on
their
Wall of Research Fame
. His expression couldn’t be called a smile,
but his lips did turn up slightly at the corners. He looked proud. Why
shouldn’t he have? He’d just brought several investors to the table to finance
his new arthritis research. The company’s stocks felt an immediate bounce
making the board very happy and a lot of money.

“To hell with them,” Dawn said close to McKenna’s ear.

“We’re in a church. Be careful what you say.” McKenna
glanced back over the crowd, taking seats in the pews. “I didn’t know he had so
many friends. We rarely had company. People came over, but they’d go in his
office and close the door for hours.”

“One of these
friends
probably killed him.
Don’t forget, everyone is the enemy. Everyone is a suspect.”

McKenna furrowed her brows and stared hard at Dawn.
“This isn’t one of those movies you watch. I’m under investigation, and you
sound like you’re enjoying it.”

Dawn squeezed McKenna’s hand. “Of course not. Although
I do find Detective Jones to be as entertaining as he is infuriating.” She
paused. “I’m sorry I was flippant. I just want you to be aware. If anyone looks
suspicious—”

“I’ll tell Detective Pearce. Now, go sit near the
front. I’m going to need someone to look at when I talk about a man I lived
with for twenty-five years but never really knew.”

Once the procession of mourners took their seats,
McKenna walked up the long aisle. The pipe organ filled the room to the rafters
with soulful hymns. She sat alone on the front pew reserved for family of the
deceased. Dawn and her family occupied the pew behind her. The comforting
squeeze of Dawn’s dad’s hand on her shoulder steeled her resolve. She could do
this.

At the appropriate time, McKenna went to the pulpit,
shared a few rare memories, and pretended her father gave a damn.

After the service, McKenna asked Dawn and her family
to ride with her in the limo to the graveside. It seemed frivolous to bury an
empty casket, especially next to her mother, but the plot had been purchased
long before McKenna had even been born.

The entire Porter family was buried in Olden’s oldest
cemetery. Now, because she wasn’t a Porter by blood, Elliot had been the last
surviving. She looked around Elliot’s plot. Large headstones dated back to when
Mormons first settled Utah. Narrow winding roads weaved through the grounds.
Hedges surrounded metal fences and privacy gates.

A handful of people had followed from the church.
McKenna hadn’t noticed Dustin at the service, but she suspected he was there.
Somewhere.

An unfamiliar voice sounded behind her.

“Ms. Porter, you have our deepest sympathies.”

She turned. A trio of men wearing black suits with
olive green ties stood before her, shoulder to shoulder. Strong jaw lines and
similar large, straight noses--they shared distinct family traits along with
bushy, black uni-brows stretching across their high foreheads. Military
flattops, thick necks, with barrel chests, they were large and intimidating
like you’d see in a gangster flick.

“Robert Marino.” The man in the middle extended a
hand.

The moment her fingers were wrapped in his large
palms, chills broke along her arm. “Thank you.” She snatched her hand back as
quickly as was polite.

“We were recent acquaintances with your father. We,
too, are very sorry for his untimely and unfortunate death.”

“Thank you.” She attempted to move away, but the man
gently clasped her elbow.

“This is most likely an inappropriate location to
discuss such matters, but we have unfinished business with your father. We’d
like to offer you a ride home.”

She pulled her elbow from his grasp.

“We insist, Ms. Porter,” the man on the left spoke.

“Elliot didn’t discuss his business with me. You’re
welcome to talk with his team at Ronac. I’m sure they can help.”

“We’re looking for an associate of his, a woman.”

“As I said, I wouldn’t know. If you’ll excuse me, my
friends are waiting.”

“Of course.”

When she saw Dustin, she needed to tell him about
these men. Their appearance definitely fell under the condition of,
if you
see anyone suspicious, if you feel a tingle run down your spine, don’t ignore
it.

Muffled voices drifted away the further she distanced
herself from the men. A few more steps and then she’d look. Dustin would need
additional information than what she’d garnered from the quick conversation.
Her pulse raced and her tummy fluttered. Finally, without drawing attention,
she glanced over her shoulder.

The men moved toward a charcoal gray sedan with dark
tinted windows. She couldn’t make out the license plate from this angle, but as
soon as they pulled away from the curb, she made a mental note of the numbers.

Other thoughts rolled together in her mind.
This is
it.
Life would never be the same. One by one, cars left the cemetery.
Elliot’s colleagues would go back to work while others went home. Either way,
thoughts of Elliot Porter would be far from their minds.

McKenna stood alone. Only a few cars lined the narrow
road. Dawn and her parents waited for McKenna to join them in the limo.

“Can I take you home?” a deep and too familiar voice
said from behind her.

McKenna hadn’t noticed Detective Pearce waiting for
her to finish accepting condolences. Her heart skipped a beat. His voice
disturbed her in many ways. One—on an intimate level, he made her want for the erotic
caresses shared between a man and a woman. Two—and more disturbing was her
responses to those wants. She tingled deep in her core. Her breast felt heavy
and her nipples tightened.

However, she be smart if didn’t think of him as a man,
only as a cop. Detective Pearce offered protection. Dustin, the virile man, had
the potential to work his way inside…a dangerous, emotional place she preferred
to keep to herself.

“Unless you’re hungry?” he said. “We could get
something to eat.”

“Dawn and her family are waiting for me. But I do need
to talk with you.” She glanced to the parking lot where Dawn waited.

“You remembered something?”

She turned back to Dustin. “No, but there were three
men at the service and they said they had unfinished business with Elliot. You
said to tell you if something didn’t feel right. I got the license plate number
if you want it. Only one of the men gave me his name. Robert Marino.”

“Three guys, big?”

“Yes.”

“I saw them talking to you.” Dustin took a notebook
from the inside pocket of his sports coat and wrote down the information.

“Yes, and Dustin, they tried to make me leave with
them.”

“Where?”

“They didn’t say, but they also didn’t want to take no
for an answer.”

“You did the right thing.”

She nodded.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. They asked me about a woman. I don’t know whom
they were talking about, but I thought you should know. Well, I better go. Let
me know if you find out anything.”

“You let me know if you see them again or anyone else
suspicious.”

McKenna nodded, turned, and walked away, the heels of
her black pumps sinking into the soft soil.

* * * * *

It was late and the house was quiet. McKenna checked
the doors for the last time and made sure to set the security alarm. The
darkened streets appeared deserted as far as she could see with the light from
the lamp at the base of the driveway.

Alone, the house seemed large and ominous. Garage
door, kitchen door, two sets of French doors off the second floor balcony, and
sliding glass doors in the large formal living room that were never opened, too
many entry points. A shiver slid along her spine. Deadbolts and door locks
didn’t make her feel safe. She went through the house and closed all the
interior doors.

In the bedroom, she put her cell phone next to the
cordless phone on the bedside table. Feeling safer in the dark, she didn’t
leave so much as a bathroom nightlight on.

Noises toyed with her imagination. Her heart beat
frantically. Deep breaths didn’t calm her racing pulse. She rationalized that
the sounds were only the house settling. The hiss of the air conditioner came
to life. Curtains ruffled and swayed beneath the vent. A horn blared and she
startled, but it was only a car full of noisy teenagers passing in front of the
house. Sleep eluded her. Fear kept her eyes wide and her ears tuned for the
testing of a doorknob or the breaking of a window.

The security alarm hadn’t protected Elliot. She wasn’t
convinced it would do her any good either. What she wanted was for Dustin to be
sleeping in her—in her father’s bedroom so that she could finally rest. Her
eyes burned. If Dustin slept in her room, she’d need him in her bed, over her,
on her and—oh god
—
in her. She wouldn’t
sleep at all. And she wouldn’t care that she was tired.

Maybe if she just heard his voice she’d be able to
sleep tonight. She leaned up on her elbow, felt in the dark for her cell phone,
and touched the screen. The face emitted enough light to see the detective’s
card lying on the nightstand. Knots tightened in her stomach. Picking up the
card, she rubbed it between her thumb and finger, indecisive on whether or not
to call.

All she needed was a reason. Fearing shadows and
noises wasn’t enough. A few minutes passed and her anxiety increased. Sitting up,
she held the card with trembling fingers and punched in the numbers.

Now she was scared shitless
and
excited.
Releasing a shuddering exhale, she waited for him to answer.

“Pearce.” His gravelly voice stiffened her nipples.
Breath froze in her lungs. What was she doing calling the detective at…holy
shit, 12:18 a.m.?

“Pearce,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“McKenna? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She heard the
edge of tension lacing his voice. She shouldn’t have called. Not being able to
sleep wasn’t an emergency. Still, a tinge of fear built to a sweeping pitch.
Anxiety surged through her, and just his voice had a calming effect. However,
the gnawing awareness of the man behind the badge intensified.