Page 121 of Sterling Heat

With shaking fingers, I press the new four digits and the lock whirls open. Rodger presses the latch to open the door. With one hand on the handle and the other on my elbow, he nudges me forward. If it were only me, I might think twice. I might run or step inside and head straight for a kitchen knife. But with Adara at my chest, I’m at this man’s mercy.

I’m so angry, fear hasn’t set in. There are no tears. At least, not yet. Talking, I can do. It buys me time, I hope.

Once we enter the house, I pretend he hasn’t just coerced me into letting him inside. I walk straight for a cabinet and open the door for a glass. “Drink?”

He chuckles, the sound bitter and tight. He stands in a spot where the staircase leading to the second floor obstructs him from the view from the front door. The spot also contains the door that leads to the cellar. His position also hides him from direct view through the front window. From the sheriff’s vehicle out front.

He points at the kitchen island. “Take a seat.”

I glance in the direction of the front window.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

My attention snaps back to him. His eyes narrow before he offers me a lopsided smile. One I thought might be endearing but I now see is all for show. Reel in the innocent. Hook them with those white teeth and a little charm. The big, bad wolf has come into my farmhouse and he’s ready to blow this place down.

True panic sets in and my body begins to tremble. Once seated, I’m grateful because my legs wobble and I’m certain they wouldn’t hold me upright much longer. I cross my knees, which allows one leg to uncontrollably bounce.

Rodger scans the open concept room from his awkward position. “Nice place you have here.” It isn’t a compliment.

I don’t respond to him.

“Pick up your phone. Hold it like you’re talking to someone.”

With a shaky hand, I do as he says, holding the phone to my ear.

“Don’t do anything rash.”

Like dial 9-1-1? Press my ICE number? Tap the emergency button? I’m trembling so hard I can’t control my fingers.

“Now, we’re going to chat.” Rodger tips his head again, cautiously peering around the barrier toward the front window before looking back at me. “Just tell me where the money is.”

“What money?”

“Don’t play coy with me. He had the money and I want to know where he put it. Now.” His tone is so sharp, like he smacked his hand on the granite.

I flinch. “Seamus?”

“You’re a very smart woman, so you know who I’m talking about.”

Gotta go to college. Stay off the streets and away from drugs. The statement whispers through my head in my brother’s voice.

“My brother.” I’m simply making a statement, but his eyes narrow. His smile washes away. “Seamus is dead.”

“I know.” His forehead creases. “And I want to know where he stashed the money.”

“What money?”

His glare tells me not to be a fool, but my head says keep talking, keep stalling.

“How would I know about any money? I’d been estranged from my brother for years.”

“Strange then that you bought this place. The very place where your brother was last seen.” Rodger casually leans into the door that leads to the cellar. He tilts his head. On second inspection, I don’t know how I ever thought this man was handsome. His eyes look wild. His beard raggedy. His hair stands up like he’s repeatedly run his fingers through it.

“You knew the money was here all along, didn’t you? Did you use it to fix this place up?” His head lifts, and he presses off the door as if the second thought is a new conclusion for him. That I might have spent this mysterious money I didn’t know existed.

Glaring back at him, I state, “I’ve worked very hard to earn this place.” I’d saved for years before Lance and I broke up, thinking the funds would go toward our future home. When we broke up, I bought out his half of the condo, dipping into that savings, but not destroying my goal. Selling the condo aided in my investment in this house.

“Right. You’re the accountant sister. Good with money. The other one is the famous singer.” He stares at me, puzzling through my family tree. I fear for Cadence. He knows so much about us, and I’ve never seen him in my life. “Maybe you took the money and hid it elsewhere.” He crosses his arms. “Stocks? Bonds? Savings? No worries. Just tell me where and I can make a deal for you.”