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She might bolt if he made a wrong move.
“There,” she said with a gulp. “She comes to stay with me sometimes on weekends. I heard the shot when I came in the house and found her when I saw the back door open.”
Blain took in the scene. A cedar wooden table overturned, a matching chair flipped over, its striped cushions lying against the brick surface of the spacious patio. He glanced from those items to the woman lying on her stomach against the redbrick, blood pooling all around her. Blain made his way to the woman, careful not to disturb anything. He knelt and checked her neck for a pulse.
None. Dead.
He stood and pulled out his phone.
“Is she...is she dead?”
He nodded to the obvious. “Yes. I have to call it in and I need to check inside.”
“I’m going with you,” the woman said, averting her gaze from the dead woman. “I...I heard someone and then I heard the gun go off. He shot her.”
“Did you see him shoot her?”
“No. I came home and walked through the house. Then I heard the gunshot. He ran away when I screamed.”
She was in shock, no doubt about that. “I need you to wait out here, okay? You can sit on the porch.”
She nodded and allowed him to guide her to the small covered area where a white wrought-iron bistro set was hidden by a thick jasmine vine.
“I’m calling for backup and then I’ll check the scene. Don’t move from this spot.”
“Okay.” She leaned her elbows on the table and hung her head in her hands. “Hurry, please.”
Blain went inside, all the while on the phone with dispatch. Nothing downstairs. Just a couple of open drawers and cabinets. He silently made his way upstairs where he found two bedrooms. Pretty much the same. A closet open and ransacked and some jewelry scattered on a dresser in what looked like the master bedroom. A purse dumped in the guest room.
After clearing the place, he came back outside. “I didn’t find anyone else inside,” he said to the woman.
He studied the scene while he explained things to the dispatcher. The woman had been shot in the back. Running away? Then he noticed where her right hand lay out from her body. The blood spatter there looked smeared with a pattern that looked like some sort of letter—a K with a line next to it. Interesting. He took a picture with his cell phone.
When he heard a soft moan, he turned to find Rikki standing by the porch railing, her gaze caught on the dead woman.
She pivoted, a hand to her mouth. He could see her shoulders moving. He heard soft sobs. While he explained his location and the situation, he also noticed something else about the woman lying there on the cold brick.
She looked a lot like the woman standing there sobbing.
* * *
Rikki sat in a chair in the den while several police officers moved all around her. The Millbrook Police Department wasn’t that big. Maybe three or four full-time officers and one very good-looking detective. She knew this because her family made it their business to keep up with the locals. But she’d been gone a few years and this new detective was different from the good ole boys she remembered.
He looked too intense and moody to bow down to anyone.
She took another gulp of air and closed her eyes to the scene she’d come home and found an hour ago. The house quiet, her cat gone, and the patio door open. Lights blinking away on the Christmas tree by the fireplace. Tessa? She’d called out, thinking her friend had gone out back, maybe had taken Pebble with her since the big, fluffy cat liked to lie across the patio floor bricks, warm from the setting sun. And then she’d looked up and heard a gun firing.
But when she’d hurried outside, the last rays of the sunset had shown with a bright clarity on Tessa lying there. Still. So still. Rikki had screamed and then she’d hurried to find her phone. But when she’d heard footsteps running away and saw a man in her yard, she’d bolted away. Ran like a coward, to what? Where had she been heading?
Away. She needed to get away. If anyone knew who she really was...
“Rikki?”
She whirled on her chair, her heartbeat drumming against her temples. “Yes?”
Blain Kent knelt in front of her, one hand on the arm of the high-backed floral chair, a notebook and ink pen in his other hand. “Is there anyone you can call? Can you stay someplace else tonight?”
Rikki wanted to laugh but she couldn’t muster up the strength. She did straighten in the chair, her gaze grabbing onto his face. If she weren’t so numb with fear and shock, she’d flirt with him. But she didn’t want to flirt. She wanted to go back and walk in the door and see Tessa standing in the kitchen, waiting for their night out on the town in Pensacola. Dinner and conversation and maybe a little flirting. Just a little.
“Rikki? Miss Allen?”
“I’ll be okay here.”
“It might not be safe.” He rocked back on his heels, his sweatpants stretching to accommodate his solid leg muscles. “Do you know of anyone who might want to harm Tessa Jones or you?”
“No.” She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. “I...I left Tallahassee to get away for a while. I just broke up with my boyfriend.”
The detective’s eyes lit up at that statement. “How bad was the breakup?”
“Bad enough. But he doesn’t know where I am.”
“Right.”
“Did you get a good look at the person?”
She tried to remember. “No. Just from behind. He had on dark clothes, like sweats and a cap. Tall. He was tall. With black running shoes.”
“Okay, that’s something to go on.”
“I left her lying there. I was so scared.”
He let that go but Rikki felt sure he’d ask her more on that subject later. Could Chad have done this? Was he that vicious, that cruel?
“Tell me more about Tessa Jones,” the detective said.
Rikki swallowed the heaviness in her throat. “Tessa grew up in Georgia but she lives in Tallahassee. We went to college together.”
“We’ll be investigating her background but if you can think of anything that might help us, tell me now.”
His words had gone into what sounded like a firm command. He’d probably investigate Rikki’s background, too. “Do you suspect me, Detective?”
His expression was as fluid and unreadable as a midnight ocean. “I’m just trying to put the pieces together.” He studied his notes. “It looks like she tried to write something. I can’t be sure, but...some of the blood pattern looks like the letter K with a line slashed through it.”
Rikki’s stomach roiled and almost revolted at that image. “I don’t know. She calls me KK sometimes. Her nickname for me.”
She lowered her head, hoping to stop the nausea.
“You need anything?”
She glanced up at his face, the five o’clock shadow making him look mysterious. “I’m fine.”
“So why was Tessa here alone?”
“We were meeting here for the weekend to catch up. I travel a lot so I don’t get up here very often.” She glanced around, wondering how she’d ever feel safe here again. “I have clients in the area. Orders coming in for art and furnishings. I was on my way home. She knew where to find the key.”
He studied her with an intense inky gaze that left her rattled. “So you’re here for work and to get away from Tallahassee and your ex-boyfriend.”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name?”
“Chad Presley.”
She looked out toward where the medical examiner was about to take away Tessa’s cold body. Should she tell him the truth? Should she admit the things that would cause him to suspect her of all kinds of crimes? Or should she sit here like a lump and pretend her life wasn’t falling apart?
“Miss Allen? You said you came here to get away from him?”
Rikki lifted her head, her gaze slamming into his. Did he already have her figured out? “Yes, and to take care of some clients in the area and mostly, for a visit with my mother.”
No, she’d covered all of her bases on that a long time ago. No one could figure her out. She should be safe.
But here she was, back in the one town she’d sworn she’d never return to again. For oh, so many reasons.
“Why did you need to get away from your ex?”
She didn’t want to talk about Chad. “We’ve been apart for a while but he’s having a hard time letting go. I just wanted some time away, to think about things.”
“So you came here. Not that far away.”
She bobbed her head. “My mother is sick,” she said, sincerity her only hope. “I came to visit her during the holidays. I don’t get back here too often.”
“And who’s your mother? Maybe you could go and stay with her?”
Rikki knew she’d said the wrong thing by the way he analyzed her with that deep blue-eyed stare.
She tried to fix it. “Can I just stay here? I’ll lock up.”
She didn’t really want to stay here but she couldn’t let him see how scared she felt right now. He already suspected her and...she couldn’t explain anything else to him. The detective would jump to the wrong conclusions.
He gave up and stood. Rikki stood up, too, relieved that he wasn’t so close to her anymore and that he seemed willing to let it go. For now.
But he didn’t let it go.
“I don’t think you should be alone right now, and you can’t stay here, anyway. This is a crime scene.”
“And I can’t stay here because you think I’m in shock or because I’m a suspect or because you think whoever did this will be back?”
“All of the above,” he said, not even blinking.
“I see.” She moved away from him, her arms in a protective stance across her midsection. If she told him the truth, he would take her in for questioning. That’s how things worked in her family. “I...I don’t want to upset my mother.”
“Then go to a hotel but as I said, this is a crime scene, so you can’t get back in here until we’ve cleared it.”
Rikki whirled to stare over at him and tried again. “I can’t stay in my own home?”
“Not tonight.”
His tone told her not to argue. “Okay, I’ll find somewhere else.” And she’d have to leave again. Soon. She’d go by to see her mother and then...she’d just go.
“Do you think your boyfriend followed you?”
“No.”
She’d found someone in her house and they’d gotten away after killing Tessa. Instincts told her this wasn’t Chad’s doings, no matter how much he’d threatened her.
“Do you know anyone here besides your mother?”
She did, but no one she could trust. “No. I’ve been away for a while and as I said, I don’t get back much.”
He jotted notes. “I could drive you somewhere.”
Rikki looked up at him to make sure he wasn’t trying to trip her up. Were detectives always this accommodating? “I have my car.”
She turned away, her mind on the horrible scene outside the window. And where was Pebble? Where was her cat that traveled with her?
She refused to think about that or the tough-guy detective giving her the third degree. He probably already had her license plate number. Probably had already run it through the system.
He wouldn’t find anything incriminating on Rikki Allen. But he could find a whole lot of information on Regina Alvanetti. Then he’d know she was the daughter of the infamous Franco Alvanetti.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, his tone telling her she didn’t have much choice in making that decision.
“I want to cooperate with you,” she said, resolve settling over her like the night chill. “But honestly, I’m not sure what to do next.”
TWO (#ulink_eda76936-894e-56b2-a0e3-8a59dc37b45a)
“I suggest you let me drive you somewhere safe.”
Rikki turned to stare at up Blain with dark-chocolate eyes. “And where in this town would that be right now, Detective?”
Surprised, he said, “Well, Millbrook is pretty tame, all things considered. Preferably, with someone you trust. But I guess anywhere you want to go as long as you let me get you there and make sure it looks safe.”
“I don’t see why that’s necessary.”
Something was so not right here. Blain hadn’t dealt with a murder case since returning to Millbrook after his stint as a marine MP. He’d worked hard serving his country and after doing recon work to track down some of the meanest humans on earth, he’d learned a thing or two about people. They tended to be evasive when they were trying hard to appear normal. Evasive and not so good at faking it.
This beautiful, frightened woman was definitely hiding something but he had to give her credit for staying fairly calm during this whole thing. Had she had a lot of practice?
He watched her pace, saw her glance out to where her friend had died. She was as nervous as her missing cat probably was right now, but she held it in check with a gritty silence. Natural, since she’d come home to find an intruder and her friend murdered. But why wasn’t she opening up to him? Especially about the ex-boyfriend. A case of domestic abuse?
