Chapter Six

Mia felt the flood of emotions go through her. The dread. So much dread over the murder of someone she’d known, even when that person had been an SOB. There was also the worry about what this discovery might mean.

And the fear.

Not for herself but for Angel. He was the do-gooder. A cop to the core. It would rip him to shreds to be arrested for murder. Especially a murder that she now knew he hadn’t committed.

“Did they find anything else?” Mia managed to ask. “Cause of death? Anything that points to the killer?”

Angel shook his head, and he turned his attention from his phone to look at her. “That’ll take time, and there might never be anything conclusive as to cause of death.”

Yes, because of the possible damage to the bones. If Kenton had been stabbed, there might not be any marks if the blade had gone into soft tissue.

“It’s possible he wasn’t even killed in his room,” Angel added. “He could have been injured there. Or maybe the blood was from the head wound he got from Melanie hitting him.”

“It was a lot of blood,” she muttered, shifting the volume of her voice back to a whisper.

Angel made a sound of agreement. “But we have no way of knowing if there was something mixed with the blood. Maybe some water, for instance.”

Mia sighed because the person who’d cleaned up that blood had made it impossible for them to know that. Then again, the only way they would have known was to call in the cops.

“Was there anything else in that room that pointed to a struggle or someone else being in there with Kenton?” Presley asked. He’d also gone back to a whisper. “Anything other than Angel’s hat?”

Mia forced her mind back to that horrible night. “I don’t think so. I mean, I’d never been in that room when it was his. And I didn’t notice anything toppled over. I just saw the blood, and I…panicked. I grabbed the hat, destroyed it, and then eventually went back to clean up.”

Angel and Presley exchanged glances, and she figured they were likely trying to piece together the timeline. She tried to help them out with that.

“My knife wasn’t there when I went in the room and found the hat,” she said, hoping by spelling it out aloud for Presley, it would help all of them see things more clearly. “Nor was it there when I went back to clean up. Someone put both of those things there. Someone who wanted Angel and/or me to be blamed for what happened.”

“And anyone in the foster house would have had access to your rooms to get those items,” Presley pointed out. “In fact, Kenton could have set you up, been discovered by someone who ended up killing him. Someone who maybe wanted to protect Angel and you.”

That brought them right back to RJ or Melanie.

Mia wanted to talk to both of them, and Angel almost certainly did as well. But not here. This was something better discussed away from the sheriff’s office. Because if either RJ or Melanie was indeed guilty… well, Mia didn’t know what would happen next, but there was no way Angel would just bury this. No. Eventually, he would need to tell someone.

They all turned toward Deputy Rivera when he came through the door, and Mia figured he was there to tell them the reports were ready for them to sign. But the deputy wasn’t alone. There was a man right behind him, and even after all these years, Mia recognized him.

Dwight Barker.

Kenton’s father.

He hadn’t changed much over the years. He still had his been there, done that rock star looks in the dark wash jeans and muscle tee. Still had the vibe that made her skin crawl as well. She could feel something dark and dangerous about him beneath the surface.

“My son is dead,” Dwight gutted out. “My precious boy,” he added on a sob, though Mia saw no tears in his eyes. “Who killed him? Who did this to Kenton?”

“We don’t know,” Angel said. “The police are investigating.”

Dwight made that sobbing sound again, and he lowered his head. “But you were there when it happened. You must know something. You have to tell me what happened to him.”

“We don’t know,” Angel repeated, and he was studying Dwight as carefully as Presley and she were.

Were Angel and Presley buying this sad father act?

She doubted it. There was just something off about the man.

Dwight lifted his head, looking up at the ceiling as if praying. “They found his body, and on the drive here, I got a call that they’re sure it’s my boy. Somebody killed him and buried him, hoping he’d never be found. Well, he was found, and I need to know who’s responsible.”

“On your drive over?” Mia questioned just as Angel said something similar.

It was Angel who continued. “Why were you coming here? How’d you know we’d be here?”

Dwight seemed to do a mental doubletake, and he paused for a long time. “I, uh, heard some things,” he finally said “And one of those things was that the three of you were here at the sheriff’s office. Four of you,” he amended. “Apparently, your former foster father is here as well.” He shook his head again. “Never could understand why RJ called himself that.”

“Called himself what?” Angel questioned.

“Father.” Dwight stretched out the word. “I mean, he never fathered a child so he wouldn’t know what it was like to have one. Or to lose one,” he added in a sad murmur.

She nearly blurted out that RJ knew far more about being a father than he did. After all, he’d lost custody of Kenton, and while she didn’t know the specific reason for that, it had to have been huge.

“You heard some things?” Angel pressed. He was in the cop mode now, and his tone let her know he wasn’t buying this grieving father act.

“Yes.” Dwight repeated it a couple of times. Stalling. “I have some friends in law enforcement.”

So, there was possibly a leak of some kind. Maybe a friend with the sheriff’s office or at SAPD since they were aware that Angel, RJ, Presley, and she were here.

But maybe there was no leak.

Maybe Dwight knew because he’d been the one who’d fired shots at them. Mia had to immediately rethink that though. He didn’t appear injured. That didn’t mean he wasn’t. Some blood had been found at the scene of the shooting, but the wound could have been minor.

Or Dwight could have hired the person who’d shot at them.

Dwight volleyed glances at them again before his focus settled on Deputy Rivera. “Could you give me a minute alone with them? I’ve got some personal things to say to them.”

Rivera looked at the three of them, and when they each gave him a nod, he muttered an agreement. “When you’re done talking to Mr. Barker, your statements are ready to sign. Mr. Matthews had already signed his and left with his wife. He wanted to get her home.”

With that, the deputy stepped out of the breakroom. Dwight reached behind him and shut the door. Later, Mia would wonder why Melanie hadn’t at least come in and spoken to them. For now, she kept her focus on Dwight.

“I’ll, uh, need to bury my son,” Dwight said. “And I’m a little short of funds right now. I figured since Kenton was your foster brother, you’d be willing to help me out.”

Mia huffed. So, that’s what this visit was about.

“It’ll be a while, maybe months before Kenton’s remains are released,” Angel pointed out. “Both the bones and the grave site will have to be thoroughly examined. SAPD will investigate.” He paused a heartbeat. “Unless you can tell them what happened to Kenton.”

“No.” Definitely not a hesitation that time. “I was hoping the three of you could tell me, but it’s obvious none of us knows why my son is dead.” His voice cracked, and he covered his face with his hands. “I just want to do what’s right by Kenton. I want to buy a grave plot to have it ready for when he’s finally released. I was thinking maybe ten grand would cover it.”

Angel stared at him for a long time, and when Dwight finally lowered his hands, he flinched a little at Angel’s intense stare. “Tell you what, I’ll buy the grave plot and that way you don’t have to deal with it. I mean since you’re obviously so torn up about your son.”

Something hard and cold went through Dwight’s eyes. “Okay. Thanks.” But there was no gratitude in his eyes.

Dwight stood there for several more moments, and she imagined he was trying to think of some argument that would get one of them to pay up and give him some cash.

“I’m guessing RJ and Melanie will be suspects,” Dwight threw out there. “Probably the three of you, too.”

“And you,” Angel added.

There it was again. That glimmer of the dark edge beneath the rock star surface. “Maybe,” Dwight muttered. “But Melanie and RJ will definitely come under fire. It’s a shame. I should be careful what I say to the police when they interview me.”

It was a threat, plain and simple.

Angel threatened right back.

“I’ll be careful, too, when I talk to SAPD about you,” he said. “I recall Kenton and you arguing on one of your visits to the foster home. If pressed, I might be able to come up with some details. But I’ll be careful how I word it.”

This time, it wasn’t just a mere glimmer of the darkness. It was there, right there. Dwight opened his mouth as if he might return verbal fire, but then, he changed his mind.

“I’ll be in touch,” Dwight said. That, too, sounded like a threat, and then the man walked out.

All three of them blew out long breaths.

“Dwight is at the top of my suspect list,” Angel muttered. “Let’s sign those statements and get the hell out of here so I can start digging into his background. I want to find out exactly where he was and what he was doing around the time Kenton disappeared.”

Mia couldn’t agree fast enough, and they all went to the bullpen, where Deputy Rivera did indeed have their statements ready. They read through them, signed them and started out.

Only for Mia to come to a stop.

“I can’t go home,” she remembered. It was being processed by the county CSIs.

“You’ll come with me,” Angel insisted. He turned to Presley and seemed to offer an unspoken invitation.

Presley shook his head. “I’m going to head back to San Antonio and have some chats with some of our old cop friends. I also want to see if the lab has anything for me.”

He was talking about the pocketknife. Yes, she very much wanted to know about that as well.

“I also want to make a quick stop by the sheriff’s office and alert him to the possibility that Dwight might be involved in this all the way up to eyeballs,” Presley added. “Who knows, I might be able to convince him to have Dwight tested for gunshot residue or injuries he might have gotten when he was shot and fell out of a tree.”

“Do that,” Angel said. “We might get lucky.”

But he didn’t sound very hopeful about that. She’d heard GSR was harder to detect when a rifle was used. Added to that, Dwight could have showered after the attack. Or maybe he hadn’t even been there if he hired someone to do his dirty work for him.

“I’ll be careful,” Presley muttered to them. “You two do the same. And, uh, don’t bother trying to keep your hands off each other.” He winked at her again.

Presley had maybe meant that as a joke, but even with everything going on, Mia thought he was right. Angel and she didn’t have a history of resisting each other. Not when they were in the same vicinity anyway.

And soon, she’d be under his roof.

Since they’re parked right out front, they didn’t have to be out in the open long. They quickly got in Angel’s van, and he drove away. While keeping watch around them. She did as well because, after all, the person who’d attacked them was still at large.

“Danno, run a deeper background check on Dwight Barker,” Angel instructed the app. “Go back at least thirty-six years to the time his son was born. Then, dig into the son and get any details on his mother. According to the preliminary report, she’s deceased, but I want details of when and how she died.”

That was a good angle since they knew nothing about the woman. Unlike Dwight, she hadn’t visited Kenton at the foster home, but that didn’t mean she’d been totally out of the picture. She could have played a part in what happened to her son.

“Background check in progress,” Danno let him know.

Angel drove out of town and took the turn toward Bandera Bluffs. He didn’t have the GSP map on, but she guessed it wouldn’t take them long to get there. And with each mile, they would get further and further out into the country.

“What Presley said…” Angel started, but then he stopped.

“About not keeping our hands off each other,” she filled in for him.

Angel nodded, and a muscle flickered in his jaw. “I’ve, uh, never stopped wanting you, but I won’t give in to this…” He stopped again, muttered some profanity.

He glanced at her. Just a glance. But, mercy, even that could pack a wallop. The man certainly had her hormonal number.

“It’d a bad idea,” she finished. “Yes, I understand that.”

“Good,” he said and nodded as if that would guarantee that nothing sexual would happen between them.

It wouldn’t.

She knew it. So did he.

But maybe he was hoping by spelling it out, that the words would have a magical effect and stop them from doing something stupid. The words wouldn’t do squat, but the threat of Angel being killed might do the trick for her. She didn’t want him to pay for something she should have shut down twenty years ago.

“The first time Kenton tried to come onto me, I should have kneed him in the balls,” Mia said. “If I’d done that instead of just avoiding him, he might have realized he stood no chance with me.”

Angel glanced at her again, but this time there was a different kind of heat. There was anger. “The first time? Are you saying he tried shit with you before that night?”

Sweet heaven.

Mia instantly regretted her babbling. Angel didn’t need to deal with another slam of emotion. Still, she’d opened this Pandora’s box so she had to go with it.

“Yes, twice,” she admitted. “Once on the day he arrived. He asked me out, and I told him that you were my boyfriend. Then, a few weeks later, he sort of cornered me when I was in the pantry searching for a late-night snack. I was trying to get by him, and he was moving in for a kiss when RJ came in to ask what was going on. I said nothing and then hurried back to my room. That’s when I should have kneed RJ in the balls.”

Angel did a whole lot of cursing. “Yes, you should have kneed him and then come straight to me. Why the hell didn’t you?”

Oh, it was so hard to explain the mind of a teenage girl. “Because I didn’t want you to think I’d done something to lead Kenton on.”

As she expected, that brought on an f-bomb and some other ripe profanity. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

“Yes, I know that now, but at the time, I didn’t want to do anything to lose you.” She paused. Had to. “Because you were pretty much the only good thing in my life right then.”

Or for the years before that.

Or after.

No way would she admit that. Mia figured she’d already spilled way too much for one day.

Thankfully, Angel didn’t get a chance to push for more info because he turned onto a narrow private road, and she could see the house ahead. Definitely not what she’d been expecting. It looked like a very modern take on a two-story log house with sharp roof angles and lots of windows and decks.

“I didn’t expect to see a place like this out here,” she muttered.

He didn’t jump to answer, and for a moment she thought he was going to ask for more details about her encounters with Kenton. He didn’t. But Mia figured this wasn’t the last of that particular conversation.

“Ruby had several houses built out in this area, and I bought this one when I started working for her,” Angel finally said.

“Your boss has good taste,” she remarked. “Guess you do, too, since you made it your home.”

And it was indeed a home.

The yard was bursting with flowers of all colors, and the land behind it, a clearing of at least ten acres, was covered with wildflowers. She was about to ask him if he’d gotten into gardening, but his phone rang, and she saw Presley’s name pop up on the screen.

“Is everything okay?” Angel asked him the moment he answered the call on speaker.

“No one attacked me or anything. Hope you can say the same for Mia and you.”

“No attacks,” Angel assured him as he drove the van into the garage. “I just got home, and we’re about to go in.”

“Good. Because I’m sending you a lab report about Mia’s knife.”

Her stomach instantly knotted, but she didn’t pepper Presley with questions. She just waited for him to continue.

“It had blood on it,” Presley said. “Not Mia’s.”

Mia’s breath of relief rushed out. “Kenton’s?” she managed to say.

“Yeah, and someone else’s,” he explained. “Birdie’s.”

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