Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

STEPH GASPED FOR AIR. Somehow she’d managed a well-placed knee that had him howling and loosening his grip. Then Cole’s and Tate’s shouts had frozen him long enough for her to snag the paperweight she’d thrown from the desk and slam it into the side of his head. Now he lay on the floor, stunned but not unconscious.

She scrambled away from him and swept her hand under the armoire, just as Tate entered the room, his weapon on her attacker. She found the gun and shoved it to the side, not wanting to pick it up in front of two cops—regardless of who they were—whose adrenaline was probably flowing as fast as hers.

Cole went straight to the masked man, cuffed him, and ripped the mask off.

Steph gaped. “Gage Bolin!”

He glared at her while Tate checked on the unconscious homeowner. “Pulse is strong,” Tate said. “But he’s going to have a nasty headache when he wakes up.”

“At least he’ll wake up,” Steph said, still gazing at her attacker while her pulse thrummed in her ears and her throat ached. “It was you all along?”

“I want a lawyer.”

Paramedics hurried through the door while Cole grabbed Bolin’s arm and passed him off to a uniformed officer. “Make sure he gets his lawyer.” He looked at the man. “And go round up his kids. Maybe they’ll talk if he won’t.”

The flash of fear in Bolin’s eyes made Steph believe Cole might be onto something. She cleared her sore throat and walked over to Gage. “I saw the vehicle in the warehouse,” she said. “That wasn’t you who ran Brenda off the road, because Cherry said she didn’t call you until the day before yesterday. So who was it? Benji? Or...” She hesitated. “Cherry?”

His shoulders twitched.

Cherry.

Her heart plummeted. “No.”

“It was an accident,” Bolin muttered, his voice low.

“Sure it was,” Cole said.

“Cherry killed her? She wouldn’t. No.” Her sore throat tightened even more and tears gathered. “I don’t believe you. You’re a liar!” She backed away.

“Steph...” Tate held out a hand, but she ignored it and shoved out of the room. She needed space, room to breathe, to process that one of her friends had killed another. She made it outside to the front yard and bent double, hands on her knees. No, God ... not Cherry.

A gentle hand on her shoulder pulled her up and around. She looked up through her tears to see Tate’s compassionate gaze, and she leaned her forehead on his shoulder while silent tears dripped down her cheeks. “I want to hear her side of this.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t believe him.”

“I know you don’t.”

She wanted to punch him for sounding so pacifying, but deep down she realized he was just trying to offer some comfort. And while she appreciated it, she pulled back and swiped her palms across her cheeks. Paramedics loaded the homeowner into the ambulance.

Steph stopped the nearest one. “How is he?”

“He’ll be all right as far as I can tell, but a CT scan is probably a good idea.”

“Any idea who he is?”

“His ID was in his wallet. One of the officers called his wife. She’s meeting us at the hospital.”

“Oh good.” When the ambulance pulled away, she turned to Tate. “Okay, now what?”

“Now we—as in Cole and I—go find the other three Bolins and figure the rest of this thing out.”

TATE COULDN’T LEAVE Steph without a way home. At least that’s what he told himself when he led her to his unmarked vehicle. She climbed into the back seat, buckled up, and rested her head against the headrest. He still wasn’t sure she shouldn’t go to the hospital, but she refused and he wanted to keep an eye on her. The fact that Cole didn’t argue said he felt the same.

While she rested, he and Cole mapped out a plan, alerted SWAT and other backup, then made their way across the mountain to Bolin’s Nature Nurture Expeditions.

Cole parked just outside the entrance. “All right, Steph. You stay put, and I mean that.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she muttered. “I’m done playing investigator.”

“Good.” Cole popped the trunk and went to don his SWAT gear.

Concerned at the ring of defeat in her tone, Tate turned to look at her.

She met his gaze and narrowed her eyes. “But if you need me, I’m here. You know. Just if you need me to talk to Cherry. I think she’d listen to me. Benji won’t. You have to take him first. If you do that, Cherry will want to protect him.”

Tate nodded, relieved her momentary surrender to the stress seemed to be gone. “Noted.” Reluctantly, he left her and followed Cole through the open gates. They headed for the office, keeping in contact via comms. Tate joined Nathan Carlisle, one of the other detectives, and waited until everyone was in place. Steph’s brother James was there with his team and gave the signal that they were ready.

“Benji’s in the back office,” he said. “We have eyes on him through the window.”

“Copy that. Where’s the sister?”

“Reported to be on the grounds near the zip line tower. Can I get an affirmative?”

That came and Cole said, “Take the brother in the office first. Once he’s contained, on my signal, take the sister.”

“Copy.”

Tate and Nathan walked up to the office door and Tate tried the knob. Once it twisted, he pushed the door open, then swept inside with Nathan right behind him. “Hands in the air.” He kept his voice low, not wanting to alert the man in the back room.

The woman at the desk gasped and shot her hands up while her wide eyes darted to the closed door that had been confirmed to be Benji Bolin’s location. Tate held a finger to his lips and motioned for her to come out from behind the desk and join him.

She gulped, nodded, and did as told. Nathan moved to the door and glanced at Tate. Tate nodded. Nathan pushed the door open and Tate swept inside, weapon on the man at the desk.

Benji yelped and jumped to his feet, backpedaling toward the exit behind him.

“Police, Benji! Freeze!”

But he kept going, throwing open the door only to come to an abrupt halt when he stared down the barrels of the officers there. “What is this?” He spun back to Tate and Nathan. “What’s going on?”

“On your knees. Cross your legs at the ankles and put your hands behind your back. Now!”

Benji looked like he might run, but after a few seconds of hesitation, lowered himself to the ground and did as instructed.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Brenda Hudson, conspiracy to commit murder, and a host of other charges,” Cole said.

“No, wait, you don’t understand.” He looked up over his shoulder at Cole. “No one meant for Brenda to die. It was an accident.”

“Of course it was. That’s what your father said too.”

The man paled. “My father?”

“Yep.”

“Where’s your mother?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t heard from her since they got back from Aspen. She hates this place. Only tolerates it because it pays for her lifestyle.”

“Fine. We’ll find her with or without your help. Let’s go. Your sister will be joining us shortly.”

“Cherry?” He laughed. “Are you kidding me? She won’t tell you anything.”

“Not a bit kidding. And guess we’ll find out if she has anything to say or not.”

“I’m not saying anything more. I want a lawyer.”

“Smartest thing you’ve said so far.”