Chapter 38

Ash checked his surprise.

He’d anticipated a political rival or a disgruntled aide or even a sexual relationship gone bad. But he’d never considered that the governor’s only child could be responsible.

“Why Linda?” he asked.

He watched in amazement as she gathered herself, setting aside whatever personal feelings she had for the woman in order to answer his question.

“She had such hate in her heart for her mother.”

Ash turned her limp hand over and wove his fingers between hers. His pulse quickened when she clutched tightly to the comfort he offered.

“Do you know why?” he asked.

She molded her free hand over the top of his. “Things between them started falling apart not long after Linda’s father died.” Emotion thickened her voice. “At the time when they needed each other the most.”

“What happened to Mr. Stokes?”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning, of all things.”

“Vehicle or home?”

“A faulty fireplace in their home on Lake James. He’d gone out there to spend the weekend. When he didn’t return Sunday evening, as planned, and Vicky couldn’t get a hold of him, she asked the local PD to do a wellness check.”

“How long had he been dead?”

“The coroner believed he’d succumbed Friday night, so two-plus days.”

“Didn’t the carbon monoxide detector go off?”

“Near the master suite, the investigators found the detector disassembled on the hallway table along with a package of new batteries.”

“Let me guess,” he said, seeing the scenario play out in his head.

“The alarm was going off, and Mr. Stokes assumed the device needed new batteries. When that didn’t shut it up, he thought the detector was faulty and ripped it from the ceiling.”

“That’s what the investigators pieced together.”

“Why in the hell wouldn’t he have concluded the alarm was real?”

“About a month before, he’d had the HVAC system serviced.” She shook her head. “I guess the fireplace in their bedroom never crossed his mind.”

Ash raised both brows, wondering how someone could have missed such an obvious connection.

She gave him a pained smile. “Jonathan wasn’t what you’d call handy around the house. And . . . ”

When she didn’t continue, he coaxed, “And what?”

“Jonathan’s blood alcohol content was three times the legal limit.”

Ash bit back a groan. “Might he have confused the carbon monoxide alarm for a smoke detector?”

“The investigators suggested as much.”

“Linda took the news of her father’s death especially hard, I imagine.”

“At first, she acted as any daughter faced with such devastating news. She helped her mom with the arrangements, put together a slide show, and gave a heart-wrenching eulogy. But a few weeks after his death, Linda came to me in tears. She’d found out that her dad had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s a month earlier, but her parents had decided to delay telling her. She’d just started her dream job, and they wanted her to enjoy the moment and be able to focus on learning her new responsibilities.”

“Linda didn’t agree with their decision?”

She shook her head. “Linda thought they robbed her of time with her dad.”

“But his death and the disease had nothing to do with each other.”

“Which Linda eventually came to realize once the raw edge of her grief dulled.”

Ash frowned. “Then why was she so angry with the governor?”

“A few months later, she learned Vicky and Jonathan had been arguing before he left to go to the lake house. She reasoned he wouldn’t have been there at all if it weren’t for their fight.”

“One strike too many?”

“I suppose. The Stokes were a tight-knit family. Losing her dad would have been devastating, then to learn that her parents had been quarreling might have flipped a nuclear switch in her head.” She drew in a resigned breath. “I don’t know. I find it hard to believe those two events led her to contracting a killer. But there’s no denying the depth of her anger toward her mother.”

“Who told Linda about her father’s illness and her parents’ fight?”

An unsettled stillness gripped her as she plowed through her memory. When she surfaced, she looked at him with a mixture of surprise and self-recrimination. “I don’t know. I always assumed Vicky told her, but I don’t recall Linda saying so.”

“Sounds like we have even more to discuss with her.”

“We?”

“Go get dressed before I change my mind.”

She kissed him hard, then catapulted her lush body off the bed, shooting into the outer room to grab her overnight bag before darting into the bathroom.

Ash threw off the sheet, checked the level of wrinkle on his discarded clothes and decided he could live with them. As he finished pulling on his pants and shirt, a sharp knock echoed through the condo.

Collecting his handgun and holster, he padded to the front door barefoot and checked the peephole. Before he could bring his visitor into focus, a fist slammed against the door again. He lurched back and ripped his gun from the holster.

“Open the fucking door, Ash.”

Zeke.

Ash reholstered his weapon and set it on a nearby table. His brother either wanted an update on the situation with Kayla or he’d found out about Ash’s meeting with Liv. Small towns loved their gossip.

Either option wasn’t ideal for him with Kayla in the next room.

Considering the amount of violence pulsing against his door, Ash put his money on the latter. Which meant he was about to get his ass kicked.