Chapter 7

Levi was still ridingthe morning's high as he crossed the FBI bullpen to the conference room, Marsh at his side, his big hand nestled where it belonged at the small of Levi's back. Their lovemaking had been exhilarating—hot, wild, a little naughty—and one hundred percent the connection they'd needed after the past few days. Then after they'd cleaned up and headed downstairs, they'd stolen a few extra minutes with their family over a raucous, delicious breakfast. Between Camilla's and Irina's latest exploits, including Casseroles for Cows, a deviously delectable plan for passing a local conservation measure, updates on the goats David had helped deliver last summer, and enough teasing to make poor Brax blush, Levi had left the house with an even wider smile on his face than when he'd first come downstairs.

Days like these, Levi thanked his lucky stars. He'd had it all early on—the love of a good woman, an incredible son, a tight-knit family. Then lost it when cancer had taken David's mother's life. In the aftermath, his heart broken, the rising tide of debt and responsibility drowning him, Levi had drifted from his son, his family, and his friends. And then the cowboy hacker at his side had sauntered into his life and lassoed him out of his misery, helping Levi reconnect with his own family and bringing Levi and David into his. And even working together, Levi never found himself wishing for time away from Marsh. He always wanted more, wanted everything.

Marsh leaned closer as they approached the conference room door. "Wipe that smug grin off your face or everyone is gonna know how hard I railed you this morning."

Levi's cheeks burned, his blush never something he could control, especially around Marsh. "Now they're definitely gonna know."

Turned out there were only two people in the room who might notice—Jamie and Aidan—and both of them were too wrapped up in the folders and papers strewn across the table to even notice they'd entered the room.

Levi cleared his throat. "Good news or bad news?"

"Bit of both," Jamie said, glancing up. "We know why Press got a good deal on the house."

"That's more than we knew yesterday."

"That's the only good part," Aidan said as he stood. "Turns out Press bought a murder house."

"Not exactly," Jamie replied.

"But not far off." Aidan grabbed their mugs and met Marsh by the coffeemaker, spinning up refills while Levi slid into the chair across from Jamie.

"Start from the top," Levi said.

Jamie withdrew a green folder from the rainbow stack to his left and slid it across the table. "Property records. First deed is the one for Press's purchase from Dwight Cousins. Second is from when Cousins purchased the property."

Levi briefly scanned Press's deed; nothing unusual. He flipped to the prior deed. Similarly benign, though the house had been owned in trust. Not an uncommon tax strategy in California. "Eloise Ward signed for the Ward Family Trust. Did she live there?"

"Hold that thought," Jamie said. "Notice anything else?"

Levi flipped back to Press's deed, examining it more closely. Then to Cousins's. All looked in—Wait! He checked the date on Press's, then on Cousins's, surprised at how close they were. "He didn't hold on to it long."

Marsh slid into the chair beside him. "Property values do escalate like magic beanstalks around here." He handed Levi a cup of tea, then scooted back in his chair, nursing his bean water. "Or maybe Cousins was a flipper. Or maybe he was like Agent Kim and couldn't take the planes."

Jamie and Aidan chuckled, Cam no doubt filling them in on his former partner's aversion to the military flyovers that had eventually chased him out of town and up the coast to the LA field office.

Levi sipped his tea and considered Marsh's theories. "The latter is certainly possible. A flipper is possible too, but those improvements at Press's place, while nice, didn't look less than a year old." He set his tea aside and turned his attention back to Jamie. "I'm guessing there's more to the story. Cousins sold the house three hundred and sixty-six days after he bought it, one day past the required holding time for a residential loan."

Smiling, Jamie passed a yellow folder across the table next. "Settlement statements from both transactions."

Marsh whistled from over Levi's shoulder. "Cousins came out of pocket for that delta?"

Aidan nodded. "Tapped his 401K. Penalty is on his tax return."

"Why didn't he just sell it sooner?"

"The lender's penalty was even more exorbitant."

"So he wanted out of that house, bad." Levi spread the papers in front of him and reclaimed his mug, reframing the situation around this latest evidence. "Any issues while he was the owner?"

"Nothing reported," Jamie said. "Checked FBI and the county sheriff's records."

"We need to talk to him," Levi said. "And to the neighbors. There must have been something that chased him out of there."

Marsh made a high-pitched, eerie ghostly noise.

And got a balled-up piece of paper to his face for it, Jamie hitting him square between the eyes. That drew more laughs... and tripped something in the back of Levi's mind.

Ghosts.

Dead people.

Ward.

That prior owner's name.

"Tell us about the Ward who lived there before Cousins. Lance Ward, if I remember the news stories correctly?"

Marsh dropped the spooky act, snapping back to professional attention. "News stories?"

"Good memory." Jamie pushed a red folder across the table to them. "Lance Ward was found dead in the San Elijo Lagoon fifteen months ago."

Levi opened the folder to crime scene photos and was immediately glad he'd gone easy on the sausage gravy and biscuits that morning. Bodies found in water were some of his least favorites. Beside him, Marsh, who'd not gone easy, took one look, then angled his chair away.

"Cause of death was suicide?" Levi asked, closing the folder on the pictures. "I think I remember that too."

Aidan nodded. "Sheriff's department ruled it a suicide officially, but the autopsy was technically inconclusive from the body being in the water too long."

"No one noticed him gone?" Marsh asked.

"Ward was a restauranteur with investments in SoCal and Vegas," Jamie said, as he handed over the last remaining folder, a bulging blue one. "List of restaurants plus his travel and credit card records for the last year of his life are in there. It wasn't unusual for him to be gone long stretches."

"So why did local rule it a suicide?"

Jamie's tone was more somber when he spoke next, the latent investigator's glee taking a back seat to sympathy. "Because he'd tried before. Check the last page in there."

Levi flipped the folder over, then drew out the last sheet, an editorial written by Ward and published in a prominent food magazine. He read the first few paragraphs and was jarred by the contrast between this piece and Ward's ultimate fate. "This reads like he came out the other side."

"Doesn't mean he didn't slide back into darkness," Marsh said, and the darkness, the touch of fear in his own voice, had Levi reaching out and laying a hand on his husband's thigh. He'd witnessed Marsh's nightmares over the past year. Infrequent, but there had been enough to know they stayed with Marsh for days after.

"Let's dig into him too," Levi said. "But less about his death and more about his life." He gave Marsh's thigh another squeeze. "Want to show them what we found this morning?"

The thin line of Marsh's mouth curved into a devious smirk, and judging by Aidan's pained "I don't wanna know," he'd noticed this time and made the deduction Levi had expected earlier.

Levi rolled his eyes at his husband. "I can't believe you were telling me to behave when we walked in here." He snagged the laptop from in front of Marsh and opened the crime scene photos they'd reviewed that morning. He flipped the laptop around but kept it closer to them, aiming for that broader perspective that had helped Marsh realize what he was seeing. "Each room was searched, but when you look at them all together?—

"That room," Aidan said, pointing at Press's office, "was searched more thoroughly. Something to do with Ward's work?"

"Or something Ward left behind."