The Eligible Suspect. Jennifer Morey

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      “I wasn’t driving the car. It wasn’t me.”

      The detective didn’t respond. No one would believe he wasn’t the one driving his car. But the detective began to show signs of doubt. Or maybe he just didn’t have enough on him yet. The evidence hadn’t been fully analyzed. Korbin now had a taste of what it was like to be falsely accused. At all costs, he had to prove his innocence, or Damen would have his way and Korbin would spend time in prison.

      * * *

      Korbin was released on his own recognizance and was out by late afternoon. He was worried sick about Collette. He took a taxi home to get his phone and saw that she hadn’t called—not even when he hadn’t shown up at the Laughing Grass this morning. She wasn’t answering her phone, either. He tried calling Damen but he didn’t answer. Where was Collette? Was she all right?

      Parking his truck outside Collette’s house, he jumped out and jogged to her door, knocking several times and ringing the doorbell. When that produced nothing, he used his tool to unlock the door, looking around to make sure he wasn’t seen. Going inside, he took two steps in, shutting the door behind him, and saw a lamp and some picture frames broken. And on the other side of the couch, Collette lay on the floor. Blood had soaked the carpet beneath her. She’d been shot and it looked like she’d been dead several hours.

      “No.” Korbin was light-headed with shock and dismay as he rushed over to her.

      He crouched to check for life even though he knew she was gone. Her eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling. Breathing out a harsh breath, Korbin bent his head and swore. How could he have allowed this to happen? How? She’d come to him for help and he’d failed her. Damen had killed her. She’d been afraid of him and he’d killed her.

      Standing, he picked up a dining room chair and slammed it down onto the floor with a growl. It broke into pieces. The horror of what Damen had done almost made him pick up another.

      His wife’s beautiful face came to him, engulfing him with terrible grief and guilt. He hadn’t saved her, either. She’d died because of his underestimation of Damen. Just like Collette. While ravaging guilt and helplessness gripped him, he vowed to bring Damen to justice.

      Returning to Collette’s body, he began to search for evidence, carefully checking the area surrounding her and her clothes, all the while not disturbing any of the crime scene.

      The gun...

      With that sobering thought, he looked for the weapon. It wasn’t here. He searched the whole house and didn’t find the gun he’d given her.

      He went to her computer. She didn’t keep it locked, so he easily clicked his way to her email. Not finding anything there, he went through all of her files. In a folder labeled “Resumes,” he found an email file with the subject “What’s Next?” It was an exchange between Damen and a man he didn’t know. Korbin opened it and realized his luck had finally improved. Collette had forwarded an email exchange from Damen’s machine to hers. She’d cleverly hidden it in the file folder and deleted it from her email program. If Damen had checked, he’d missed it.

      Korbin printed a copy, reading the exchange on the screen. A man named Tony wanted to know if Damen had finished putting together a team and Damen had replied with Not yet, but I’m close. The time the email was sent was a few days after Korbin had refused his request. Tony had replied, You promised me a team. If you can’t handle this, I’ll have to make other arrangements. What wasn’t written there was what Tony would do with Damen if he failed him. You’ll have your team, Damen had responded. And the last of the thread was Tony saying, For your sake, I hope so.

      With Collette dead, Korbin didn’t have to worry about Damen finding out that she was onto him. What else had she known? What had made her keep this email thread? Korbin wished he could ask her.

      Wiping his prints from the mouse and anywhere else he’d touched, he left the house, deliberately leaving the email open on Collette’s computer so that it would be easy for police to find.

      Now he had to get somewhere safe to hide, somewhere he could do some research on Tony Bartoszewicz. And figure out a strategy to take Damen down. Before Damen cost him more than he already had.

       Chapter 2

      “I’m not using my house as a fortress to protect me from men, Mother.” Putting her book down on the table, Savanna Ivy stood up from the cushiony chair in the corner of the loft. Her feet sank into the thick mocha rug as she passed between a love seat and a television atop an antique wood cabinet. A log railing allowed a view of the living room below. She saw through the gabled windows and under exterior lights that it was snowing harder now. Her mother had interrupted a really good book on a stormy evening.

      “You went there on purpose,” her mother said.

      “I live here.”

      “On purpose,” her mother insisted. “Your reclusiveness worries me.”

      Camille Ivy didn’t like it when Savanna went into her hermit modes. She couldn’t surprise her with her celebratory family visits. Tucked deep in the woods just south of Wolf Creek Pass, Savanna’s log home was on seventy-five rugged acres in Colorado’s southeastern San Juan Mountains. In winter, she was frequently snowed in.

      She went down the open stairs and into her living room, passing a white leather sofa, love seat and chairs with nail-head trim on a mosaic rug in dark green and black. A beautiful alder wood buffet and wine cabinet were behind the sofa and against the wall.

      Beside the large gabled window, the black gneiss rock fireplace rose all the way up to an exposed log ceiling. She had a fire going. Soft piano music played from her stereo, stored in a built-in cabinet where a huge television was embedded in the log wall, off for now.

      The sun had set an hour ago. It had been snowing all afternoon and the news had forecast another storm the next night, a much more severe storm. A blizzard, they were saying. Savanna couldn’t wait to spend the day cooking and reading.

      “You need to talk about it, Savanna,” her mother said in her silence.

      “I like living alone, Mom. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m okay. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

      “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

      Another man had broken her heart and she was in the grieving process. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been through this before. It’ll pass.”

      “That’s what worries me.” Then her mother sighed. “You and Autumn. You’re both so independent. At least she’s around other people when she travels, and she found herself a decent man.”

      That came with a sting Savanna had trouble pushing away. Savanna had thought she’d met two decent men, but they’d turned out to be liars.

      After a moment, her mother said, “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

      Savanna wished her mother would stop talking. “It just hasn’t worked out for me yet. It is what it is.”

      “You bought that mountain home after the first one.”

      Savanna didn’t argue. Her mother СКАЧАТЬ