Tracks of Her Tears (9 page)

Zane stood. “There’s no point sitting here all night. His attorney isn’t available, and he won’t talk without him.”

“There are times when the Fifth Amendment is a royal pain.”

Zane laughed. “This would definitely be one of those times.”

“We don’t need a confession. We have him cold for Amber Lynn’s murder.” A search of Bob’s property had yielded a black SUV with a dented front fender and blood on the passenger seat. Seth was sure DNA testing would prove it was Amber Lynn’s. Bob’s DNA would also be compared with the tissue taken from under Amber Lynn’s nails. In addition, they’d sent a copy of Bob’s fingerprints to the ME’s office, and a latent print examiner had matched it to the print lifted from Amber Lynn’s neck. They’d even found Amber Lynn’s purse in Bob’s SUV.

“I wish I knew who the girl was on the video.” Zane said.

There’d been no sign of a body in Bob’s house or at the bar.

“I’m leaving an officer to babysit him tonight.” Zane stood and stretched. “But it doesn’t have to be you or me.”

“Good to be the boss.”

“Sometimes.”

Exhausted but satisfied, Seth drove home. A confession would have been great, but Bob had killed Amber, and he was sitting in jail. The evidence against him was strong already. The pending DNA test results would give the prosecutor an easy conviction. Hell, Bob would probably plead out once the evidence was outlined.

When Seth drove past Patsy’s house, a strange car sat in the driveway. He parked at the cabin, but it was empty. He took a quick shower and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt before walking up to the main house. Carly and Brianna were sitting on the sofa in the living room eating cookies. At the sight of Seth, Brianna launched her body across the room into his arms.

She wrapped all four limbs around him. “Did you get him?”

“You bet.” He kissed her nose.

“Mama and Aunt Stevie took me to see Santa.” Brianna squirmed.

“They did?” Seth glanced at Carly. His wife smiled.

Brianna nodded solemnly. “They let me go to the front of the line.”

“You certainly deserved that.” He set her down, surprised to see Luke White sitting on the floor next to Charlotte, who was building a tower with an ancient set of blocks.

Carly unfolded her long legs, stood, and kissed him. “Luke wants to take Charlotte.”

Luke laughed as the baby swatted the tower to the floor. “My parents would love to take her, but my dad is disabled. My mom can barely take care of him. I don’t think either one of them could even pick her up.”

“That’s a big commitment for a single guy.” Seth dropped into the only chair available: Bill’s. He never felt like he could quite fill the dents in the cushions, but tonight he could swear he felt his father-in-law’s approving presence in the room. He rubbed his face. He was spending too much time with Patsy. He needed food and sleep.

Luke cast Carly a worried look. “Will they turn me down because I’m single? I can’t produce a wife. I don’t even have a girlfriend right now.”

“No,” Carly assured him. “You’re her family. As long as everything else checks out, you should be fine.”

He looked relieved. “I have a lot of work to do in my house before it’s safe for a baby. It might take a week or so. I have to lock up my tools and get those outlet cover things and I don’t even know what else.”

“Tomorrow is Christmas. It’s also Friday, so the county offices won’t be open until Monday. We can start the paperwork then. I’ll come out to the house and help you make a list of what needs to be done.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Charlotte squatted to her feet, took his cheeks between her palms, and said, “Wukie.”

“I’d like to come see her tomorrow,” Luke said. “And maybe bring my parents. I know it’s an imposition, being a holiday and all.”

Walking into the room, Patsy waved away his concern. “You are all welcome. We’ll be here all day after church.”

Brianna climbed into Seth’s lap. He held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair detangler. His wife and child were safe. His Christmas was complete.

Patsy stood. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

“We’d better get you to bed too.” Seth brushed Brianna’s hair from her forehead. “Santa won’t come if you’re awake.” Plus, Seth and Carly still had to sneak the presents under the tree after Brianna fell asleep.

But then he could go to bed with his wife, something he truly appreciated tonight more than ever.

C
HAPTER TWELVE

C
arly herded Brianna and Charlotte into the house after Patsy opened the door. The cold wind swept in behind them. The rest of the family followed, except Seth, who had stayed at home because no one wanted to leave Bruce alone. James, Debra, and their boys came into the kitchen next, followed by Stevie and Zane. Church had been followed by a trip to the cemetery to lay a wreath on Bill’s grave.

“I’ll get a fresh pot of coffee going.” Patsy bustled into her apron. “Debra, would you put the ham in the oven?”

Seth tugged Carly into the other room and presented her with his gift. The morning had been too crazy. Brianna had pounced on them in bed at five a.m. They hadn’t found any time alone yet.

Carly opened Seth’s present. “A new fly reel?” She kissed him. Her husband knew her well. She wasn’t a jewelry sort of girl. She’d much rather spend the day at the river—with him. She handed him a large box and watched him open his gift, a new two-person tent, her way of committing to spending more time alone with him like they had when they’d first dated.

“I see some camping in our future.” Seth grinned. “I know what that means.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “I can hardly wait until spring.”

Carly felt the flush from her toes to her cheeks.

Brianna had opened her gifts before the sun had risen. In front of the Christmas tree, she played with her new toy veterinary center. She’d “volunteered” Charlotte to be her first patient.

“You’re a kitten. You have to meow.” Brianna demonstrated.

Charlotte clapped and laughed. “Me-ow.”

James’s two boys pushed their way through. “We wanna play.”

Brianna looked away. “I don’t know. You were mean to me yesterday.”

“You’re a bossy-pants,” the older said.

“Time for Christmas carols.” James headed off the confrontation. “Brianna, would you play the piano?”

Smiling, she abandoned her toy, climbed onto the bench, and fanned her fancy red Christmas dress over her tights. “Isn’t Uncle Bruce going to play?”

Seth had brought Bruce home earlier, but he was upstairs resting. He had been given pain medication for his injuries, but Carly knew his pain was only partially physical. Having Charlotte in the house was a constant reminder of Amber Lynn’s death. Bruce hadn’t had time to grieve or process the murder, and he likely blamed himself even though there was nothing he could have done to foresee or prevent her murder.

“Uncle Bruce is tired, honey. Maybe he’ll play with you later.” Patsy sat next to her granddaughter and enveloped her in a giant hug. “Let’s sing ‘Away in a Manger.’ I heard you playing it last week, and it sounded lovely.”

James went for his fiddle and found a tambourine for the baby to shake. Carly and Stevie gathered around the piano. Patsy’s voice floated over the room. They played and sang for an hour, taking turns on instruments and harmonizing the way they had since they were born. While Carly missed her father with an empty ache, she was also grateful to have the rest of her family gathered around her.

“Brunch is ready,” Debra called from the kitchen. The table was spread with everything from ham to pancakes to pastries. The meal that had taken three days to prepare was consumed in twenty minutes.

A crash sounded from the living room. Trina yelped. Chairs scraped as everyone left the table to see what had happened. In the middle of the living room, the tree lay on its side. Brianna’s kittens wrestled their way out from under it, their little bodies tangled in the lights.

Carly and her sister rushed forward to free them while Seth and Zane righted the tree. Patsy broke out the vacuum and cleaned up the broken bits of ornaments. By some miracle, only a few glass balls had broken and the lights still worked.

“I have an announcement.” James came out of the kitchen with a bottle of champagne. “The O’Rourke deal is going through.” He popped the cork.

“Congratulations.” Patsy brought a tray of glasses, and James poured and handed out champagne.

“Construction will start as soon as weather allows,” James said. “It won’t solve all Solitude’s woes, but the jobs are much needed.”

Full of ham and pie, Carly took a glass and dropped onto the sofa. Seth sat down next to her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Never a dull moment around here.”

He set his glass on the coffee table. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m grateful for more than I can say this year.”

“Me too.” Carly intertwined their fingers.

“How do you think Luke will do raising a baby?” Seth asked.

Carly thought about his question. Her instincts told her the baby was going to be okay. “I think he cares, and that’s a good sign. He has a good job. I’ll help him with the details.”

“You’re amazing.” Seth kissed her. “I don’t think I ever appreciated what you do as much as I have this week.”

His praise filled her with happiness. She turned her head and kissed him back. “You were right, though. It isn’t a good time to have another child.”

Seth brushed a knuckle across her cheek. “I wouldn’t have turned her away.”

“I know that too.” Carly snuggled closer.

“We’ll get there in time,” Seth said.

“Why do you think I bought you that new tent for Christmas?” Carly joked.

Seth’s chest shook as he laughed. “I like the sound of that.” He lifted his glass to hers. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” Carly tapped her flute on his. “Here’s to fifty more.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The Rogue River and Rogue Winter Novella Series started as an idea proposed to us by our editors at Montlake Romance. So we’d like to thank JoVon Sotak and Kelli Martin for putting the concept of writing a joint project in our heads. Writing is normally a very solitary occupation. This type of collaboration was a whole new experience for both of us. We discovered that the only thing better than having writer buddies is having one to help you plot murder. On paper, of course.

Melinda Leigh

Kendra Elliot

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photo © 2014 Marti Corn Photography

Melinda Leigh is a fully recovered banker. A lifelong lover of books, she started writing as a way to preserve her sanity when her youngest child entered first grade. During the next few years, she joined Romance Writers of America, learned a few things about writing a book, and decided the process was way more fun than analyzing financial statements. Melinda’s debut novel,
She Can Run
, was nominated for Best First Novel by the International Thriller Writers. Melinda’s bestselling books have garnered three Daphne du Maurier Award nominations and a Golden Leaf Award. When she isn’t writing, she is an avid martial artist: she holds a second-degree black belt in Kenpo karate and teaches women’s self-defense. She lives in a messy house with her husband, two teenagers, a couple of dogs, and two rescue cats.