Deadly Setup Page 4

  Tempers flared back to life among Boone residents at the news of Trey’s upcoming trial. Everyone in town was talking about it. And what better way to get back at Trey Becker than by hurting his sister?

  “Paige, we’ll need more evidence to cast doubt on what we’ve already collected. What I’m more concerned about right now is the possibility of someone trying to hurt you as a means to get back at your—” He didn’t get a chance to fully explain before Paige’s expression morphed from bewilderment to red-hot anger.

  “I can’t believe this,” she snapped, shaking her head, a frown marring her beautiful face. “I doubt there’s anything that would convince you that my brother’s not guilty.”

  Not true. All that was needed was evidence. But Seth didn’t bother with a response. They’d beat that dead horse enough already. “Paige, I’d like you to consider leaving town. I don’t think Trey would want you to sacrifice your safety in his defense.”

  Paige didn’t flinch at the comment, nor did she respond. Instead she merely looked at her watch and then back at him. “I need to get going. It’s getting late, and I’ve taken up enough of your time. I appreciate you looking out for me today.”

  Before he could respond, she was halfway down the row of vehicles, heading to hers.

  Frustration roared up in him. Wrangling it back, he watched as she climbed into her rental sedan. He had to stop himself from going after her. He knew nothing he could say would change her mind about anything.

  Seth headed down the parking garage stairs to Art’s Bistro, where his takeout order was ready and waiting for him. Although, his appetite was no longer raging—concern for Paige had taken care of that.

  God if You’re still out there, watch over Paige. The prayer came out nowhere, surprising even him. He hadn’t talked to God in years, but Seth hoped He was listening.

  Paige was going to need it.

  THREE

  Something startled Paige out of a sound sleep.

  For a moment she lay stock-still, heart racing, listening. Distant thunder rumbled, and relief settled in.

  Stop being paranoid. Paige sighed and rolled to her side. As she snuggled more comfortably beneath the down comforter, she glanced at the bedside clock. Eight fifteen.

  She pushed aside her blankets and forced her still-achy body out of bed. Flipping on the light, a yellow glow flooded the room. So much for getting an early start.

  She went straight to her suitcase, and as she started to unzip it, she caught her reflection in the dresser mirror, realizing she’d fallen asleep in her clothes.

  Lord, help me get it together.

  A creak and then something thumped, and she froze again.

  Was someone in the house?

  The floor creaked again, raising the hair on the back of her neck. She launched toward the bedroom door, pushing it shut and twisting the lock.

  Her mind raced, keeping time with her thundering heart. She needed to do something. Call someone. Nine-one-one. No, Brett Ralston.

  She spun back to the bedside and snatched her new phone from the side table, punching the one number on her list of contacts.

  Teeth clenched, she pressed the handset against her ear, clasping tighter on each unanswered ring. Lord, let him answer.

  A series of dull thumps. Footsteps!

  A surge of panic fired through her. The ringing stopped, and Brett’s voice mail picked up. “Sorry I missed you—”

  She slammed the disconnect key and then fumbled with her phone, trying to dial 911.

  A faint thud sounded, then another, followed by an electrifying rumble as lightning flashed against the closed window blinds.

  Fear exploded through Paige as a frantic scream tangled in her lungs. She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat as her knees buckled. She planted her hand on the bedside table to keep from toppling over, prayers flying heavenward. Lord, help me.

  “Paige?”

  Blinking, Paige’s breath caught. She shoved the phone back on her ear. “Brett?”

  “Paige. Are you okay?”

  Paige swung around on her toes, and her eyes riveted to the closed door, the cell phone dangling from her fingers. “Brett? Is that you?”

  “Yes. It’s me.”

  She rushed to the door then halted. What was Brett doing there? Before she could fully ponder the question, he answered it for her.

  “I stopped by to see how you were doing.”

  Her confidence in Brett continued to soar. “Thank you—” She stopped, jarred by another thought. “Brett, how did you get inside the condo?”

  “I knocked, and when you didn’t answer I tried the door and it was unlocked.” His deep voice carried through the wood door.

  Brett’s words rattled around her head. Unlocked? She’d made two trips to her car for groceries, but could she have been so distracted she’d forgotten to lock the door?

  Her chest tightened. This ordeal with her brother was making her crazy.

  “Paige. Are you okay?”

  Without answering, she twisted the lock and pulled open the door. Breath froze in her lungs as Brett appeared in her line of sight, his deep-set eyes narrowing as he stared down at her, a black revolver clasped in his hand.

  “You really need to be more careful about locking your doors.” Brett holstered his gun, and she breathed again.

  “You’re right.” She nodded, hand to her heart as if she could slow the frantic beat. “I’ve just been so distracted.” And exhausted and frazzled.

  “Understood.” Brett’s expression was guarded as always, but his fair eyes remained somewhat skeptical. “I received a message from Seth last night. He told me about yesterday’s parking-deck incident. He’s pretty concerned about you. Sounds like you had another scare.”

  A lump settled in Paige’s throat as she thought about Seth. She’d let frustration get the best of her yesterday, and once again her conversation with him ended on a sour note. And despite it all he was still concerned about her.

  Lord, help me to be more gracious when it comes to Seth.

  “And, from what Seth told me, I’m inclined to agree with him,” Brett continued, folding his arms over his chest. “The best idea would be for you to head back home and hang low for a while.”

  Raw emotions bubbled up inside her, flowing through her veins like molten lava. Her brother’s life was at stake. Didn’t anyone get that? “Brett, I can’t do that.”

  Brett had been supportive after her brother’s arrest. He’d been a close friend of Trey’s. Even after she’d left town, he made an effort to call and check in with her. If anyone should understand her motives to stay, he should.

  Paige straightened, tossing her bedraggled curls over her shoulders. “Brett, everyone seems to agree that my life is in danger. Isn’t that enough to raise suspicion that maybe Madison’s killer is still out there? And open up a new avenue in her murder investi—”

  “That’s not my call,” Brett snapped before she could finish. “We can’t assume anything until there’s concrete evidence to back it up. But be assured the Watauga County Sheriff’s Department has a strong team of detectives. They’ll dig into this. And the best thing for you to do in the meantime is go home to Durham.”

  Of course he’d think that. Paige blew out an impatient breath. She’d hoped, but never directly asked, if Brett thought her brother was innocent. The one advocate she thought she had.

  “I appreciate your concern, Brett,” she said, forcing a warm smile. “But I’ve learned my lesson. I plan to keep my cell phone close and my doors locked. I’ll keep an eye on my surroundings, and at the first sign of trouble I’ll call for help.”

  Brett’s thick blond brows knit above his prominent nose. “I wish you’d let this go, Paige, and let the courts handle it.”

  Perfect cop lingo. Easy advice for someone with nothing to lose. “Thank you, Brett. And you’ll keep me posted on any progress on my case?”

  Brett tilted his head and tightened his arms. “There’s no convincing
you, is there?”

  She hesitated a long moment and then shook her head. “No, sorry.” She managed another small grin. “But, about the investigation...”

  Brett unfolded his arms and rested his hands on his waist. “I already have people searching county records for the make and model of the pickup that was seen yesterday. We’ll be looking closely at the owners and their possible connection to the Cramer family. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

  She felt better already. With a steadying breath, she went with Brett to the door, locking it after he walked out. She slumped down at the table in the kitchen, the dash of hope, the determination she’d brought along with her to Boone, starting to wane.

  She’d expected Seth to balk at the idea that her would-be killer was also the same person who killed Madison, but even Brett brushed off her theory.

  Which only brought the truth into razor-sharp focus.

  Cops thrived on hard facts. Gut feelings weren’t enough.

  Right now, all she had was her gut.

  * * *

  Seth jerked awake, his heart racing and his body covered in sweat. Again. This had been going on all night long. Falling asleep only to be woken within the hour, his acid-drenched stomach clenched in knots as his foggy brain struggled against nightmarish images—flashbacks of a horrific crime scene the night Madison was murdered.

  The scene was like Seth remembered. A dimly lit room. The hum of anguished sobs nearly drowned out by the wail of police sirens outside the house. Trey Becker cowering beside a lifeless body, a ring of blood pooled around her. In his nightmare, every detail was eerily consistent to Madison’s murder—except the victim was Paige Becker.

  A sick feeling chilled Seth to the bone, even as he continued to remind himself it was only a dream.

  Fighting a groan, he rolled to his side and glanced at the red numbers on the bedside clock, sighing when he read nine o’clock. He’d slept in and still felt exhausted.

  Flopping onto his back, he scrubbed his face with his hands as if he was able to scrub the horrible image out of his brain. During his career as a navy SEAL, he’d witnessed countless vicious events and battled his share of nightmares because of it.

  But the feeling of foreboding that accompanied this dream he couldn’t shake. If anything ever happened to Paige, he’d—

  Stop it! Seth sat up in bed. He wasn’t responsible for keeping Paige safe, he coached himself firmly. She didn’t need his help. Didn’t want his help.

  He always felt better after a dose of levelheaded rationale.

  But not today.

  Seth blew out a frustrated breath, jaw clenching as he snagged his cell off the bedside table. Worrying about Paige was unproductive.

  As he scrolled through his emails, he mentally prioritized the messages in order of importance and tried to stay focused. But thoughts of Paige kept tumbling back, and along with those thoughts came several nagging questions.

  If someone was trying to hurt her, who was it? One of Madison’s family members? An angry neighbor? A friend? Even more important, what was Brett’s plan to protect Paige?

  Last night Seth had left a message for Brett about Paige’s parking deck scare. Brett texted him a quick thank-you, but Seth had hoped for a call back. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in Brett’s ability as a detective, but he’d feel better knowing the details for Brett’s strategy on solving Paige’s case.

  Seth eyed the list of messages again. Maybe Brett had called and he’d missed it. He scrolled one more time down the page to the end. Nada.

  A heavy sigh escaped him as he tossed the phone on the bed. Brett didn’t have any obligation to keep him in the loop. Not that Seth blamed him. Paige didn’t want him around. Brett probably knew that.

  For the next minute, Seth just sat there, jaw clenched, the ceiling fan whirring lazily overhead as he ordered himself to get a grip. He needed to forget about the case. Period.

  This was going to be a long couple weeks. Groaning under his breath, he got up and pulled on some jeans. If nothing else, he could satisfy his growling stomach.

  He stopped midstride on his way to the kitchen as a thought came to him. Nothing said he couldn’t call and check in on a friend. If nothing else, that’s what Paige was. A friend. He hoped she thought the same of him.

  Without further speculation, Seth pivoted back and grabbed his phone. He punched in Paige’s number, surprised at how quickly it came back to him. Which meant nothing, he told himself, other than his navy-ingrained memory skills were still sharply intact.

  Three...four...five...

  Seth counted the rings, about to hang up, when Paige finally picked up.

  “Hello.”

  Relief flowed, and Seth sank down on the edge of the bed. “Good morning, Paige.”

  For a long moment, taut silence stretched across the line. Finally she said, “Seth? Is that you?”

  He heard a degree of trepidation in her voice. “Yes. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No—no, I was awake.”

  Seth paused, giving her a moment to say more. Instead more awkward silence hung on the line. “Good. I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” He scowled at the conversation, or lack of. “I just wanted to call and make sure everything was okay.”

  Paige’s heated sigh sizzled through the phone line. “I don’t think anything in my life will be okay until Madison’s killer is caught and my brother is free.”

  Seth mentally kicked himself. He’d set himself up for that one. He shifted the cell to his other ear, tried again. “How are you feeling from the accident?” A more pointed question.

  Another sigh, but less heated. “Other than being a little stiff, I feel better, thank you.”

  “Good.” Now, if she would only hightail it back to Durham, he’d feel better. “Paige, I’d like to talk to you about your decision to stay in Boone. I really don’t think it’s a good idea, especially after—” He was trying to tread lightly around the sensitive subject, but she shut him down quickly.

  “Seth, I need to get going. I have a full agenda today.”

  Of course she does. Seth swallowed a snort. Trouble. That’s what he saw on her agenda. She was setting herself up for more grief and pain...or worse. “Paige, you really need to go back to Durham.” So much for treading lightly.

  “I’m not leaving, Seth.”

  Seth’s jaw tightened as he willed away the protective anger that was building in his chest. “Paige, two days ago someone ran you off the road and yesterday someone was following you. Aren’t you concerned about your safety?”

  “I’m concerned about my brother.”

  “Well, I’m concerned about you.”

  Silence.

  Seth ran an agitated hand through his hair, remembering a time when talking to Paige was anything but awkward. A time when she was rational. But that time wasn’t now.

  “Paige—”

  “I have to go.”

  Before he could say more, she disconnected.

  An hour later, Seth hunkered down behind the computer in his office, nursing a strong cup of coffee as he read over Trey Becker’s case file.

  The click of the doorknob, and his office door opened, breaking his concentration. Seth peered over the top of the computer screen as Detective Ted Hanson stood in the doorway.

  “I thought I saw a light on in here.”

  Seth smirked and lifted a brow. “And you didn’t think to knock?”

  A chuckle rumbled from deep in Ted’s chest. “I suppose I would have, had I thought you’d actually be here. What happened to not stepping a foot back in this place until you used up every minute of your vacation days?”

  He’d obviously been talking to the chief. Seth glared at his friend. “Don’t ask.”

  “Can’t stop thinking about Paige’s case, huh?”

  Ted was a lifelong buddy; they’d both grown up in Raleigh before leaving to attend Appalachian State University in Boone. And after Seth’s stint in the navy, Ted recruited hi
m to the sheriff’s department. Ted was a good man, thick as a bear, all muscle, and didn’t believe in beating around the bush.

  Still, Seth ignored his comment. The truth was, Ted was right. He couldn’t stop thinking about Paige, period. A fact he hated to even admit to himself. “You know Ralston’s on the case.”

  “Yeah, I heard.” Ted leaned against the doorjamb. “Although I also heard he’s working on a strong lead.”

  Seth set down his cup and rocked back in his chair. “He’s on the hunt for a white Ford extended-cab pickup.”

  “Wow.” Ted whistled softly between his teeth. “There’s no shortage of those around here.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Any suspects?”

  “Nope.”

  Ted folded his arms across his chest. “Do you really think someone’s targeting Paige?”

  Seth shifted in his swivel chair, elbows propped on the arms. After a moment, he nodded and gave his one-word conclusion. “Yes.”

  “And all you have going for you is a make and color of a truck.” Ted shook his head. “Buddy, you have your work cut out for you.”

  A pang of uneasy worry tightened Seth’s gut, but he shoved it away. He rocked back farther in his chair and intertwined his fingers behind his head. “Tell that to Ralston. It’s not my case.”

  Ted gave a short, amused laugh. “Maybe not officially. But you’re not here on your day off for nothing. Let me guess what you’re looking over.”

  Ted was also perceptive. Just not always right. “It’s not Paige’s case,” Seth said with a wry smile.

  “Really?” Ted’s brown eyes narrowed. “So, then what are you doing here?”

  Seth had asked himself the same question more than once since he arrived. “I’m looking over Trey Becker’s files.”

  “Trey Becker?” Ted echoed, then added, “I thought the case against him was airtight.”

  “Just looking over it with fresh eyes. Brainstorming.” Seth rocked forward and shrugged. “Probably a waste of time.” But he wanted to make sure the case was as rock solid as he remembered, secured by evidence and not assumptions.