Melindas Wolves (27 page)

Mitch read his mind. “I think we need to operate under the assumption whoever killed Nolan Friedmont knows about the email. Which makes all of us moving targets now by default. Whoever it is could have dozens of eyes on us as we speak. There could be moles within the construction crew even.”

Trace looked at Mitch. “You’re right. We need to be diligent. Nobody should be at this site alone at any time. Work in groups. I wouldn’t even drive to and from here alone. It’s too risky. For now, I’ll start coming with Keegan.”

“I’ll pick up Mitch,” Corbin said. “We don’t live far apart.”

Mitch furrowed his brow. “I’m not too keen about leaving my mate and the kids alone either.” He glanced at Keegan.

Keegan suddenly felt the sting of that insinuation. He held up a finger to hold everyone at bay a second while he checked on Melinda.
“You okay, hon? Did you make it
to the shop?”

“Yep. It’s all good. The girls are teasing me relentlessly in between customers. I need to do
an inventory this afternoon. I might be late.”

“Nope,”
Trace interrupted.
“You need to have someone in the shop with you at all times
today. At least until one of us comes to get you. Got it?”

“Okay, caveman. Are you two together?”

“We are,”
Keegan added.

“I take it things aren’t going well.”

“Not particularly,”
Trace communicated.
“And I don’t want you taking any chances
until we catch whoever killed the man we found by the lake.”

“Got it.”

“We’re serious,”
Keegan said. He didn’t know Melinda well enough to be sure she would obey their “caveman” attempt, and he cringed inwardly to think she might simply placate them.
“And don’t talk about this to anyone. If anything happened to you…”

“I’m fine, Keegan. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I won’t leave the shop. I’ll make sure
one of the girls is here with me. Promise.”

Keegan blew out a breath and met Trace’s gaze across the table. When he turned to Mitch, he found his boss with a similar glaze over his eyes. The man was communicating with his mate also.

Corbin chuckled. “Everybody got their woman on the same page now?”

Keegan shook his head. “You laugh all you want, Archers. Payback’s a bitch.” The second Corbin bit the dust, Keegan intended to be on him relentlessly.

Keegan stood. “Listen, I’ve got about ten thousand things that need my attention, so if you’ll excuse me.” He turned to Trace. “Make yourself at home. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll make sure my people know you both have the green light to snoop around anywhere you feel the need.”

Corbin stood next. “I’m pretty sure our uniforms speak for themselves. People don’t usually give a man with a badge and a gun much trouble.”

“He’s got a point, Keegan.” Trace gathered all the papers back and stuffed them in his file. “Go do inspector stuff. We’ll comb the site.”

 •●• 

Trace popped his head into Keegan’s office that afternoon to find him leaning on his elbows, staring at his computer screen, hands threaded into his hair. It had come loose from the usual ponytail he wore and hung around his shoulders. “You okay?”

Keegan jumped in his chair, grabbing his mouse and clicking the button several times while he answered. “Yep. All good.”

Trace narrowed his gaze and came fully into the room. “Not buying it. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing new.” Keegan sat back, but his hands were shaking as he set them on his thighs.

Trace hesitated and then decided he must be overreacting to the general stress. If Keegan had some new issue to discuss, he would do so.

“I’m going to get Melinda.”

Keegan smiled, a forced upturn of his lips Trace had never seen. “Good. She’s gonna be pissed if you make her leave her car at work.”

“Yeah, but I guess it’s my turn to be on the receiving end of her wrath. You usually get the brunt of it.”

“You going home?”

“Thought we’d come back here first. That okay?”

Keegan tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling as if it might provide answers. “Don’t.” He lowered his gaze. “I hate to say this, but I don’t think it’s safe here. Maybe it would be better if we didn’t flaunt our involvement with each other or with Melinda for now.”

“Pardon.” Trace grabbed the back of the chair opposite Keegan’s desk and squeezed. “Since when are you the type to keep your relationship with us a secret?”

“Since a guy is dead and he sent me an email the day before he died that might have caused me to become an accomplice to his plan to take this casino down.”

Trace nodded. He agreed wholeheartedly with his mate. There was every chance he could be targeted if whoever killed Friedmont found out Keegan knew everything about the under-the-table dealings that had gone on for the entire first year of construction. “I’ll take her home.” Trace turned to leave but stopped in the doorway to look back. “You aren’t fooling me, by the way. I’ll cut you some slack for now because I know you’re busy, but whatever you blacked out on that screen better come up in our next conversation this evening.”

Keegan’s shoulders slumped. He nodded, not saying a word.

Trace left, a feeling of unease making him look in every direction as he headed for his car. He was in uniform. That often bought him a safety net, but not always. People killed deputies every day for lesser offenses than knowing too much about a crime.

 •●• 

Keegan blew out a breath and grabbed his cell phone.

Two minutes later, Mitch entered his office, shut the door behind himself, and took a seat in the hideous plastic chair that invited no one to make themselves at home.

“Got an email.”

“Another one?”

Keegan turned his screen around and let Mitch see for himself. For now he didn’t want to share with Trace or Melinda. Hell, he didn’t want to share with Corbin. That was why he called Mitch.

Keegan and Mitch went back many years. He thought of the man as family. And he trusted him with his life.

Not that he didn’t trust Trace. They’d been like brothers for nearly their entire lives, but Trace was a cop now. He had obligations that extended past friendship. Only Mitch could understand what Keegan was up against and react in a manner appropriate for his position.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Mitch ran a hand through his hair. “Who knows about this?”

“You.”

Mitch lifted one eyebrow. “I just saw Trace leave your office.”

Keegan nodded. “You did.”

“And you didn’t tell him?”

“No.”

A deep inhale preceded Mitch closing his eyes. “We’re in over our heads.”

“Well, I am. You aren’t yet.”

He looked up. “We’re a team, you and I. Hell, I’m your boss.”

Keegan nodded. “Maybe it would be better if you weren’t so obviously involved.

Clearly someone knows I was the recipient of an email from Nolan Friedmont. That doesn’t mean they need to realize you know about it.”

Mitch shook his head. “We’re in this together. Not going to leave you hanging out to dry on this. We have to tell the authorities.”

“I know.” Keegan leaned on his elbows again, putting his forehead in his palms. “I was hoping you would talk me out of it. Buy me some time.”

“You need to send Melinda away.”

Keegan lifted his head. That thought hadn’t occurred to him. But it was a good plan.

“Maybe have Trace take her somewhere for a while, until this situation is resolved.”

Keegan chuckled. “Right. You don’t know my mates.”

Mitch nodded. “Yeah. Good point. Serena would no sooner be told what to do than eat dirt for dinner. I hear ya.”

“Nolan Friedmont is dead for knowing this shit.”

“Maybe he got himself dead for something else?”

“I’ve been hoping that, but this email implies the sender is well aware I know what the builder did.” Keegan shuddered. His head pounded. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

“You need to get out of here. Go home. Spend the evening with your mates. Get the Cambridge sheriff’s office involved. I’m sure they would send a man out to the house for the night or at least do several drive-bys.”

A loud crash outside brought Keegan to his feet. He followed Mitch out of the trailer and lifted his hand to block the late afternoon sun as the two of them scanned the area to see what happened.

Braden ran past them. “Someone fell into a pit,” he yelled over his shoulder.

“What was the crashing sound?” Keegan asked, coming up beside the foreman at a jog.

“A section of framework.”

Keegan couldn’t believe this was happening. Why? Usually months went by on a construction site without as many injuries as he could count in the last few days. It was ludicrous.

As he reached the hole a man had fallen into, he came to an abrupt stop. Behind the crowd of people leaning over the embankment and shouting down at the fallen man was a replica of the very same black shadow he’d seen that morning in his bedroom.

The cloud coalesced into a form that reminded Keegan of a bear—the same bear he’d seen in his bedroom. It hovered, gliding forward as if to see into the hole better.

And then it seemed to focus on Keegan, the edges of the form shimmering in the sunlight.

Keegan felt drawn to it, his body propelled forward by a force he couldn’t explain.

He ignored the rescue mission around him and stepped to the other side of the hole, never once taking his gaze off the shadow.

The cloud turned with him, following his movements.

The closer Keegan got, the more his anxiety should have risen. Instead he felt a sense of calm. Why?

The shadow seemed to reach out to him, as though it had hands, palm up, encouraging Keegan to approach.

Keegan eased forward. As he reached the cloud, standing less than a foot away, he lifted a hand. And between one blink and the next, the shadow disappeared. Like magic. Poof. And it was gone.

Keegan spun around in a circle, certain he would find the spirit relocated behind him or to one side.

Nothing.

Someone grabbed his arm. “Phillips,” the voice said. He registered the sound, but it seemed to be filtered as though it came to him from under water. Or he was in a bit of a trance…

He shook himself and faced the speaker.

Mitch.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Keegan licked his lips. “Nothing.”

“You look like you’re talking to a ghost.”

Keegan tried to chuckle. “That’s absurd.”

Mitch didn’t find it funny. “I would have thought so too, except I watched you with my own eyes. You were like a zombie drawn to blood the way you stepped around everyone to reach this spot.”

Keegan looked away. Mitch may have been his closest friend outside of Trace, but no way in hell was he about to tell the man what he’d seen. In fact, he wouldn’t believe it himself if he hadn’t already experienced something similar that morning and heard equally entertaining tales from his mate.

Except they weren’t tales. This was real. As real as strange visiting spirits could be.

What did it mean?

Whoops of excitement came from behind Keegan, and he ignored Mitch’s comments to let his gaze land on the man being hauled out of the pit.

Keegan’s shoulders relaxed as he watched the guy wave at the crowd of onlookers.

Thank God.

“I need to go,” Keegan said to Mitch. “I’ll see you here in the morning? Eight?”

Mitch nodded, his head cocked to one side. “Not even going to ask.”

“Yeah. That’s a good plan.”

Keegan knew exactly where he was headed. And it wasn’t home.

As Keegan climbed into his truck, he pulled out his cell phone and flipped through his contacts until he found Griffen.

His brother-in-law answered on the first ring. He sounded tired. “Hey.”

“Griffen. I need your help.”

“Anything. What’s the matter?”

“I need to speak to your grandmother. Can you give me her address?”

“Of course, but I can do even better. She’s here right now.”

Perfect
. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. And Griffen?”

“Yeah, I can read between the lines—this is between you and me.”

“Thanks.” Keegan hung up and started the engine.

In record time he pulled up at Griffen’s house, cringing to be imposing on the new father and his mates. But it couldn’t be helped.

He climbed down from the truck and headed for the porch. As he reached the steps he nearly jumped out of his skin to find Mimi sitting on the porch swing, swaying back and forth. “Son.” She scooted to one side and patted the vacated space. Her small frame seemed frail. Her hands shook. Her gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She was exactly the image of what Melinda would look like in sixty years. It was hard for Keegan to not soak in that thought.

At the same time, Keegan felt a trail of unease creep up his spine. “Did Griffen tell you I was coming?”

“No. He didn’t have to. I knew on my own. And I’m pleased you have sought me out. I know that takes great courage for a man who mated my granddaughter only a few days ago.”

The woman wasn’t kidding. Keegan still wasn’t sure this was the best-laid plan. He took the offered seat at her side and leaned his elbows on his knees. “How much do you know?”

“Enough. There is great unrest at your casino site. I don’t need to drive there to feel the rumblings coming in waves across the land as if the soil is speaking to me.”

Ordinarily, before the events of the last few days, that would have sounded absurd, and yet Keegan nodded.

Mimi didn’t say anything for a long time, and then she put him in his place. “You’re keeping important information from my granddaughter and your other mate.”

“Only for about an hour, but yes.”

“You must tell them. They have a right to know of the danger.”

Keegan nodded. This woman gave him the creeps.

“As for the land, it’s not stable.”

“The land? Or the building?”

Mimi shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“A judge would think so.” If the original foundation would have been relatively stable after the earthquake by following all the regulations in place at the time, a court of law would have blamed any mishap on the seismic activity. If, however, Templeton Construction cut corners the first time around, they would now be liable for any mishaps.