Page 55 of Unraveled

“I think that sounds like a good idea, actually,” she said. “I was thinking about doing some reading myself.”

They went their separate ways, and she found herself in the cute little gazebo half an hour later. She’d pilfered a thriller novel from Carter’s office, but fifteen pages in, it still hadn’t grabbed her attention. It wasn’t the author’s fault; her attention kept drifting back to the newspaper article she’d read that morning.

Merrill Keane. She didn’t know what it was that drove her, but she found she needed to know about the man. Maybe it was a sense of remorse at his loss, or guilt that they hadn’t been able to stop his murder. She closed the book and then went inside.

Carter’s downstairs office had been converted into the spare bedroom for John, so Carter had moved his computer and important files upstairs to his bedroom. He’d given her carte blanche to use whatever she wanted, and she picked up the laptop from his nightstand, confident that he wouldn’t care.

She googled the man’s name and sifted through several newspaper article accounts of what they supposed had happened. The exact cause of death was not disclosed, though the police suspected homicide.

Apparently badly decomposed, his body had been found near Oak Creek—less than two miles from Hartwell Road where she’d found Mr. Tripp, and a little over a mile from where the third body had been recovered. On a map, they made a neat little triangle right around the small creek that coursed through the landscape.

Clicking out of the Miami Repository’s webpage, she went back to the main search bar. Keane had several social media accounts, and curiosity prompted her to open them. In life, it seemed like Keane had enjoyed a good laugh. His page was filled with jokes and memes, and she couldn’t help but chuckle aloud as she scrolled down.

A photo at the bottom caught her attention, and she clicked on it to get a better look. Four men in fatigues smiled at the camera, and despite the grainy, blurry photo, she immediately recognized Keane’s face. Taken probably decades ago, he looked incredibly young and happy, his arm slung around another soldier’s shoulders.

She sat back in the chair, her eyes riveted to the photo. What reason would anyone have to kill Keane, or Tripp for that matter? Both had been military, but different branches. From what she gathered, they lived in different parts of the city, nearly thirty miles from each other.

She felt like she was missing something, but she wasn’t quite sure what. Keane and Tripp didn’t look the same, but that didn’t really mean anything. She didn’t know anything about modus operandi or victimology except what she’d learned in a criminal justice class she’d taken years ago. She knew it wasn’t her job to figure out who killed them—that was for the police—but she couldn’t help the curiosity driving her. She wanted it to make sense, and right now, there were so many unanswered questions. Could they have been saved, somehow?

With a sigh, she closed out of the browser and shut the laptop. A dull ache radiated from her shoulder, but the wound felt significantly better than it had the past couple of days. Pushing out of her chair, she went in search of some ibuprofen to take the edge off. Within a few days, she figured she’d be almost back to normal, and she couldn’t wait to get back to work. She hated feeling useless and cooped up. She wasn’t even supposed to run, so she decided to take a walk around the subdivision.

It was sunny but scorching hot, and she returned to Carter’s house, exhausted. Just as she was jumping into the shower, a text lit up her phone.

Carter: I have another appointment after work, so I’ll be home late.

Me: That’s fine.

Carter: I hate leaving you there all alone.

Me: No worries. I’ll be fine with your dad.

Carter: You feeling better?

Me: Just took some ibuprofen, but it’s much better.

Carter: Good. I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you when I get home.

She tossed her phone on the bed. It looked like it was going to be another long night alone. She should be grateful that he was giving her space, but she kind of missed his presence. Yeah, he was overbearing, but he was also handsome and funny and… sweet.

She didn’t want to be falling for this man, but she was terrified that the way her heart plummeted in her chest meant exactly that.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

Carter hadn’t mentioned it to Audrey when he texted her earlier, but Knox was already digging into Edward and had asked him to stop by at some point. He found himself once more in the lobby of Vantage Security after work. The same pretty brunette behind the desk greeted him by name, then called Mason to let him know he was there.

A few moments later, the steel door swung open, and Kane appeared. “Cross.” He gave Carter a quick nod. “Come on in.”

Carter pushed off the counter and followed him through the doorway into the bullpen area he’d been in the last time he was there. Jaxon and Luke tipped their chins at him in greeting, and he offered one to the other men in the room.

Knox stopped beside Mason’s desk and pulled up another chair. “I’d like to go over this with both of you.”

“Sure.”

Mason lifted an eyebrow as Carter slid into the seat, almost as if he were challenging him to request someone else. Carter honestly didn’t care who was working it as long as they got some answers. Mason was just as good as anyone; the guy was one of the smartest men Carter knew—he was just a complete idiot.

Ignoring Mason, Carter turned his attention to Knox. “What did we find out?”