A Threat To His Family. Delores Fossen

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      “They still might not be important. If the photos exist, they could possibly be proof of an affair and nothing more.” Though it twisted at his insides to think Emerson could have cheated on his wife.

      Laney made a sound of disagreement. “They’re important. Because they’re the first step in proving that Emerson carried through on his threat to hurt her.”

      Owen glanced at the key on the chain around her neck and groaned. “That’s for the safe-deposit box?”

      Her response wasn’t so quick this time. “Yes, I believe it is. And I’ll give it to the cops when I find out which bank has the photos. By cops, I mean the San Antonio Police, not anyone who has a personal connection to Emerson.”

      Of course. Laney wouldn’t trust him with the key because she believed he would tip off Emerson. Or destroy the pictures.

      He wouldn’t.

      If Owen did find something like that, he would do his job. But he doubted he could convince Laney of that. Doubted, too, that he could convince her of anything else right now.

      “If there are photos and a safe-deposit box, they could be anywhere,” he pointed out. “You need help finding them... Joe Henshaw’s helping you with that.”

      She nodded. “He’s a PI, too, and we became friends in a grief support group. He lost both his parents when they were murdered. Sorry,” Laney added.

      The apology was no doubt because his father had been murdered, too, about a year ago, not long after Owen had lost his wife. His father had been gunned down by an unknown perp who was still out there. Owen had hope, though, that the case would be solved since they had an eyewitness. Too bad the witness had received a head injury and couldn’t remember squat about what had happened. But maybe one day she would remember.

      One day.

      Even though it had nearly killed Owen to lose Naomi, it was a deeper cut to lose his father. Naomi’s death had been a medical problem. A blood clot that had formed during delivery. But his dad’s life had been purposely taken. Murdered. And all of Owen’s skills learned in training as a cop hadn’t been able to stop it. Or bring the killer to justice.

      Owen pushed that all aside, as he usually did when it came to his father, and went to the next item he needed to discuss with Laney.

      “Tell me about Terrance McCoy.”

      She raked her finger over her eyebrow and shifted her posture a little. “SAPD told you about the restraining order.” That was all she said for several moments. But yes, they had. “Then you also know that Terrance was a former client who wasn’t happy with the outcome of an investigation I did for him.”

      That was a lukewarm explanation of a situation that had gotten pretty intense. Apparently, Terrance had hired Laney to do a thorough background check on a woman he’d met on an online dating site. When Laney hadn’t turned up any red flags, Terrance had continued to see the woman, who ultimately swindled him out of a sizable chunk of his trust fund. He blamed Laney for that and had even accused her of being in cahoots with the swindler. No proof of that, though.

      “Terrance assaulted you,” Owen reminded her, letting her know what info he’d been given about the restraining order. “And he’s been out of jail for weeks now. He could have hired those men who came after you tonight.”

      She looked him in the eyes again when she agreed with him. “Yes, and Joe is looking for Terrance now.”

      Apparently that had come up in the short conversation she’d had with Joe. Or maybe Joe agreed that Terrance was definitely a person of interest here.

      “The San Antonio cops are looking for Terrance, too,” Owen added.

      After what had just happened, Terrance was at the top of their list of suspects. Ditto for anyone else Laney might have rubbed the wrong way. There were maybe other former clients out there. Dangerous ones. And because of the danger to Laney, Owen wasn’t going to forget that Addie had been put in danger, too.

      “I hate to ask, because I know it’s just going to rile you even more than you already are,” Laney said, “but could this be about your father?”

      Yes, he’d considered it. Briefly. And then he’d dismissed it, and Owen was pretty sure the dismissal had been objective. Hard to be completely objective when it came to that kind of raw grief, but he thought he’d managed it.

      “I’ll be investigating all angles,” Owen assured her. But he’d be looking especially hard at any of those directly connected to Laney.

      Laney and Owen both glanced up when there was movement in the doorway of his office. She practically jumped to her feet when she saw their visitor.

      Emerson.

      The man was wearing a rumpled suit, sporting some dark stubble and equally dark circles beneath his eyes. Emerson looked about as happy to be there as Owen was.

      It probably wasn’t a surprise to Laney that Owen had called his brother-in-law. Nor was it a surprise that Emerson had come. It’d taken him a couple of hours to get there because he’d had to drive in from Austin where he’d been away on a business trip.

      Emerson frowned at Laney after sparing her only a glance, and then he looked at Owen. “Please tell me you have her accusations cleared up by now so I can go home and get some sleep.”

      “He hasn’t cleared it up.” Laney jumped in to answer before Owen could respond.

      Emerson gave a weary sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. “Has she given you any proof whatsoever?” he asked.

      Owen went still. It was a simple enough question, but it didn’t feel like the right thing to say. He would have preferred to hear Emerson belt out a denial, tacking on some outrage that anyone was accusing him of cheating on his wife. There was something else that bothered him, too.

      “You know Laney?” Owen asked him. “Elaine,” he corrected. He waited because he had already seen the recognition in Emerson’s eyes.

      “I know her,” Emerson stormed. “She’s the PI who pestered me with calls about her sister. I told her to back off or I’d get a restraining order.”

      Arching his eyebrow, Owen shifted his attention to Laney and she acknowledged that with a nod. So, before tonight, Emerson had known about Laney’s accusations, but he hadn’t said a word about it to Owen. Something he should have done. Then again, maybe Emerson hadn’t considered Laney enough of a credible threat.

      “Emerson?” a woman called out, causing the man to groan.

      Owen wasn’t pleased, either, or especially surprised when Emerson’s wife, Nettie, came hurrying through the front door, heading straight for them. “When you didn’t answer your cell, I called the house, looking for you,” Owen explained to Emerson. “Nettie answered, but I didn’t tell her about Laney or the attack.”

      Emerson nodded and gave a resigned sigh. “Something like this won’t stay quiet for long.”

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