4 Arch Enemy of Murder

• Prologue
  
• Chapter 1
  
• Chapter 2
  
• Chapter 3
  
• Chapter 4
  
• Chapter 5
  
• Chapter 6
  
• Chapter 7
  
• Chapter 8
  
• Chapter 9
  
• Chapter 10
  
• Chapter 11
  
• Chapter 12
  
• Chapter 13
  
• Chapter 14
  
• Chapter 15
  
• Chapter 16
  
• Chapter 17
  
• Chapter 18
  
• Sneak Peek Prologue
  

Jonah Merleputter was going to get what was his. The woman belonged to him, whether she knew it or not. He had put up with her foolishness for a while, but enough was enough. There came a time when a man had to stand up and claim what was his own. For Jonah, that day had come.

Of course it had taken him most of the day to come to the decision and make the drive to his wife’s hometown. Now it was night, and he was tired, but he still planned to finish his task before the night was over. By tomorrow morning, he would once again be with the woman who had vowed devotion to him for a lifetime. He had thought she meant those words, and she had, at least until she got the fool notion that she wasn’t happy, that he was abusive.

Abusive.
Pah! It was the daytime talk programs that put the notion in her head, that’s what. He was her husband; he had a right to make her mind, to make her behave, to make her cook supper. Jonah had been faithful. He hadn’t run around on her like some men. All he asked in return was a little obedience. Was that too much? And it wasn’t as if she was some delicate flower who couldn’t take it. So he smacked her around every now and then when she had it coming; he had never left a mark. It must not have hurt too bad if it didn’t break the skin or leave a bruise; that was what his old man had told him after he complained about a beating once. Then he had beaten him hard enough to break the skin and leave bruises—a lesson Jonah never forgot.

The town was coming into view, and Jonah began to get restless. He wanted this over and done. He wanted his wife back home. He wanted a supper he could chew without gagging. She might still have the fool notion that she was independent, but he had sent her fair warning of his arrival. She should be packing by now, if she knew what was good for her. If not, he would have to convince her it was time to go.

It was while he was thinking of all the possible ways to do some convincing that the windshield exploded in a blinding spray of glass. Jonah fishtailed as the wheel jerked back and forth. He screeched to a halt in the middle of the road, looking around.

Dang kids,
he thought.
Always throwing rocks.
He started the car again, angrier and more impatient than before. He would have to drive slower now that he was without a windshield. As soon as it was light tomorrow, he would have to have the windshield replaced. His chest itched, and he realized he had not paused to brush the scattered shards from himself. He reached down, absently scratching at the spot on his chest before jerking his hand upright. It was covered in blood.

Another downward glance revealed a blossoming spot of crimson in the center of his body and a hole the size of a quarter. This time when the wheel jerked, he did nothing to right it. The car drifted off the road, down a ravine and behind a thick copse of trees.
I’m going to die out here all alone. Will anyone find my body?
The answer was yes, but not for several days.

Lacy was having the dream, the one where she was snuggled up next to a warm body, a strong arm draped over her waist. Her fingers eased over the forearm and up the bicep; whoever it was, he was well-built. She turned her head, tipped her eyes up to his face. Her phone rang, and she leapt for it.

“Jason?”

“I thought you guys weren’t talking.”

She sat up, scrubbing her hand over her eyes. “Travis?”

“I find it interesting that you had to run through a list of men to get to me, although I guess one person doesn’t count as a list. Hey, could I put in a personal request and ask you guys to make up real quick? ‘Cause our newest detective is storming around the station like a bear with an injured paw, and people are beginning to resent you.”

Lacy shouldn’t have been heartened by that fact, but she was. “We’re not fighting.”

“Then why aren’t you talking?”

“Long story.” She took another swipe at her face and froze, her fingers lingering over her nose and mouth so she was forced to smell her own morning breath. She quickly put down her hand and sat up straighter. “Who was it?”

“Who was what?”

“Who was arrested?” Lacy said. Her legs swung over the edge of the bed as she began a frantic search for her pants. The room was a mess, but it wasn’t exactly her fault this time.

“No one. Anyone ever told you that you wake up pessimistic?” Travis asked. He sounded as if he was eating or drinking something. Lacy glanced at her clock; it was seven in the morning.

“Are you at work?”

“No,” he said.

“Okay, I don’t mean to be rude because you know I love you, Travis, but you’re beginning to freak me out by breaking from your normal pattern. Why are you calling me so early on your rare day off? Did someone die? Who died?”

“Seriously, Lacy, you might consider medication for your anxiety. Not everything is bad news.”

“So you’re just calling to talk?” Lacy said, her tone disbelieving.

“Not necessarily, but it’s not bad news.” He took a breath. “Rumor has it that Riley moved back home.”

Oh, so it is bad news,
Lacy thought. The mention of her sister drained what little energy she had managed to muster. She kicked off the jeans that were perched on her toe, throwing herself against the bed so hard she was in danger of losing the phone. How had he heard about it so quickly? Riley had been home a total of three weeks; that was fast work, even for their town’s legendary rumor mill.

“Hello?” Travis said. Now he sounded tentative. Lacy sighed. Travis had told her on their first meeting that he had a not-so-secret crush on her little sister. She never expected anything to come of it.

“Travis, Riley is…”
Spoiled, shallow, a user, a taker…dead inside
.
“Not your type.”

“Oh. You don’t think I’m good enough for her,” Travis said, now sounding like a mopey puppy.

“You couldn’t possibly be more wrong,” Lacy said.
I think you’re too good for her; I wouldn’t inflict her on my worst enemy, let alone a guy I actually consider a good friend.
Of course she couldn’t say any of those things because Travis would never believe her. He had fallen for Riley’s beauty and charm. Lacy would come off sounding like a jealous shrew.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to prove it,” Travis said.

“Travis, really, you don’t want to do this. She just got out of a serious relationship.”

“I do want to, Lacy. It’s not every day that a guy gets a shot at his dream woman; I need to strike while the iron is hot before someone else swoops in.”

Lacy sighed, resigned. “All right. I’ll put in a good word.” For all the good it would do.

“Well, I was actually hoping for a little more than that,” Travis said.

She squeezed her eyes shut; this was going to be bad, whatever it was.

“You see, I have this sort of, um, paralyzing fear of beautiful women.”

Lacy’s eyes narrowed, trying not to take offense over the fact that he had never once been tongue-tied around her. “Go on,” she urged.

“I was hoping maybe we could do a double date. You could sort of be my moral support.”

“The Cyrano to your Christian.”

“Huh?”

“I’m a nerd. Continue.”

“That was it. We double date and you keep me from making too big a fool of myself.”

“Travis, Riley is…”
A man-eater, only interested in your checkbook, looking for unattainable perfection…dead inside.
“Three years older than you.”

“See, this is where you come in handy. You know how you’re always saying that you owe me?”

Lacy groaned.

“Payback time.”

“Can’t I just cut you a check? How does a thousand dollars sound?” The fact that she wasn’t kidding should tell him how much she didn’t want to do this. So far she had been able to avoid any major confrontations with Riley—mostly by avoiding her each time she emerged from her room. She hadn’t even argued when Riley insisted she give up her room. Instead she had quietly schlepped all her things to the tiny guest room where everything remained crammed haphazardly together. To Lacy, peace was worth any price. But to pay up on Travis’s favor would be to incur one from Riley. And owing Riley was about the worst thing in the world.

“Lacy, c’mon, be a pal.”

“All right, but can I please state for the record that you have no idea what you’re asking. This is the equivalent of releasing the kraken on you.”

Travis laughed. “Oh, Lacy, you’re so odd. Can you set something up for Sunday? I traded to get the night off.”

He sounded deliriously happy and excited while Lacy felt sad. This was not going to end well for him. Or her. “Sunday sounds fine,” she lied.

“Great, super, thank you.” He hung up without saying goodbye, no doubt to go lay out his clothes like a teenager on his first date. She supposed that since he was only nineteen he actually was still a teenager. Or maybe he was twenty by now. He was nineteen when they met, but that had been several months ago. Had she missed his birthday? She should have written it down.

Since she was up early, and since her grandmother was baking again, she decided to go for a run. In her quest to somehow enjoy exercise, she had bought a pair of shoes that promised to work wonders in her overall fitness. They were expensive; the most expensive shoes Lacy had ever bought. But they promised great things, and they were from Europe. Perhaps it was un-American, but Lacy had the idea that anything imported from Europe was of supreme quality, even if the shoes were ugly and complicated to put on. After getting the bindings wrong twice and having to refer to the directions, she finally had them fastened correctly. She took an experimental step and felt a shooting pain from her arch to her kneecap. She picked up the directions and studied them again, turning them upside down to try and decipher the drawings.

The box had warned that there might be some adjustments to her stride which, in her case, was a good thing. Currently her stride was that of a penguin on hot coals. But were they supposed to hurt so much? She took another step, and there was no pain. She smiled; the first stab of discomfort had no doubt been a fluke.

As soon as she opened her door, Riley did the same. They stopped short, staring at each other in the hallway. Riley’s glance swept Lacy up and down in the disdainful way she had that never failed to make Lacy feel inferior.

“You’re running in that?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Lacy asked.