Deep Secrets. Beverly Long

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СКАЧАТЬ she was going to tell him everything, even though her mind hadn’t made sense of it yet.

      “Milo said something before he died.”

      Bray’s head whipped up. This was news to him.

      “What was that?” Chase said gently.

      “‘Tell Rafe they know.’”

      Chase didn’t look at Bray this time. He was staring intently at her. “You’re sure that’s what he said?”

      “Yes.”

      Chase stood up, walked over to the window, looked out at the street. Finally, he turned. “Did Milo know your husband?”

      “No. Rafe was already dead before he came to work here.”

      “Did the two of you frequently talk about Rafe?”

      “No. I don’t discuss Rafe with many people. But Milo and I had been talking earlier in the evening and his name came up.”

      “Is it possible that Milo was confused? That your conversation earlier in the evening was on his mind, and that’s why he mentioned him before he died?”

      “I guess,” she said, her tone flat. It made as much sense as anything. But she’d never seen Milo confused or discombobulated about anything. He was always calm, always controlled. But then again, she’d never seen him bleeding to death on the dirty pavement, either.

      “I don’t know,” she said, her voice breaking. “I just don’t know and it’s driving me crazy.”

      Chase reached out for her hand. It probably wasn’t police protocol, but given that his brother was married to her twin sister, she and Chase were family. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “I know hearing something like that would be very upsetting. But he was dying. Losing lots of blood quickly. He wouldn’t have been thinking clearly.”

      She’d been telling herself the same thing. But for some strange reason, it really irritated her to hear someone else say it. “They were his last words. I think they were important to him,” she snapped.

      “Of course,” Chase said.

      Bray stood up. “I think I should take Trish back to my house,” he said.

      When Summer and Bray had got married, Bray had moved into the small house that Summer had rented with her two children. They were building a new home but the walls had just gone up. “You don’t have extra space,” she said. “I’ll go to my own house.”

      “You can stay with Raney and me,” Chase said immediately.

      She did not want to stay with anyone. She was strung so tight that she was about to lose it. “Is there any reason to think that I’m in danger, that the attack on Milo had something to do with me or Summer or the café?”

      “We have no way of knowing that,” Chase said. “Milo was attacked from behind. As best as I can tell, he was in the process of putting the garbage into the Dumpster when he was stabbed. Based on what Bray has told me, I understand you opened the door to check on him and he was already on the ground. Whoever had done this was gone.”

      She nodded. “He’d been in prison. Do you think it could be someone from his past, someone who maybe held a grudge?” She was grasping at straws but she so desperately wanted to make sense of it.

      “I don’t know,” Chase said. “I’ve asked for help from the state. They have more sophisticated resources than we have to process the scene. We’re going to be done here in just a little while, but I’d prefer it if you could keep the café closed tomorrow, just in case.”

      Saturdays were usually busy days. “I’ll put a sign on the door,” she said, getting up to find paper and a pen. The sign probably wasn’t necessary. It was a sure bet that at least one of the volunteer fire and rescue squad would tell his or her spouse what had happened here tonight and it would spread like wildfire. By morning, everyone in the small town would know why the café wasn’t open.

      It was one of the reasons she hadn’t said anything before this about Milo’s last words. She hadn’t wanted it to be overheard.

      Because if one well-meaning person asked her what she thought about it, she might explode. She didn’t know what she thought. Tell Rafe implied something that she couldn’t even fathom. They know. Know what, for God’s sake? “I want to go home,” she said. “To my house. I have Duke. He won’t let anyone get near me.” It was true. The German shepherd was fiercely protective, had been since the day he’d wandered up to her doorstep without any tags. She’d searched for an owner for a week, even putting an ad in the paper, but no one had come forward. Duke had become her dog.

      “A dog isn’t much protection against a bullet,” Chase said gently.

      “This was a knife, not a bullet.”

      “You don’t know that’s the only available weapon,” he said.

      “The café emptied out at least a half hour before we closed. I was alone in the dining room, clearly visible if someone outside had bothered to look in the window. If they wanted to harm me, they had a chance. But they waited until Milo took the trash out. I think this was about Milo, not about me.”

      “Even with that final comment?” Bray asked.

      “Like Chase said, Milo was dying. He might have been confused.” She picked up her purse and kissed her brother-in-law on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for bringing Summer home early, thank you for being here and for having the wherewithal to respond.”

      Then she turned to Chase. “I trust you, Chase. With every bone in my body. I know that you’ll do everything you can to find Milo’s killer. He was a wonderful friend and he didn’t deserve to die like this.” Then she leaned in and gave him a quick hug.

      Bray picked up his keys from the counter. “At least let me follow you home and make sure you get inside safely.”

      The Hollister men were very protective of the women they loved, and by virtue of being Summer’s sister, she was automatically included in their circle. “Fine. Let’s go.”

      * * *

      HER FOUR-BEDROOM RANCH house was too big for one person, and tonight, more than ever, she felt as if she was drifting from room to room, looking for ghosts. She was grateful, though, for the silence.

      Bray had been true to his word. He’d left, a worried look on his face, after he’d checked every room and the garage. She’d assured him that she’d set the alarm immediately and she had.

      Now she stood in her kitchen and Duke crowded in next to her, almost as if he knew that something wasn’t quite right. He was poking his nose at her knees, and when she reached down to pet him, she realized that there was blood on her dark blue pants.

      Milo’s blood. She hadn’t seen it before, but when she’d knelt next to the body, the blood had got on her.

      “Oh, Milo,” she sobbed, catching hold of the kitchen counter to keep herself upright. Tell Rafe they know. “What did you mean?”

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