Deadly Setup Page 7

  Taking a breath, she looked past Seth to the small waiting room, just beyond a set of double glass doors, where a young woman sat, probably waiting for information on a loved one. A place Paige clearly remembered. She fought back a shiver as her déjà vu moment hit stronger.

  Suddenly hot, Paige tugged off her scarf. Seth didn’t think it was a good idea for her to stay alone in the condo until after the maintenance crew for Beaver Creek finished inspecting the area of damage over the door. Although she readily agreed, she was now wishing she had just opted to bolt the door shut and wait until morning for the report of their findings.

  “Paige Becker.”

  Paige’s heartbeat jumped into a frantic rhythm as she looked up and found Ted Hanson approaching, a broad smile stretching his full lips. “Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you since you’ve been back in town.”

  Which was fine with her. Paige sidled closer to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on her left, wishing to just blend into the woodwork. Outside of being Seth’s best friend, Ted had also been one of the detectives on her brother’s investigation. “Hi, Ted.” She kept her voice cordial.

  He stopped right in front of her and lifted a bushy eyebrow at her. “I hope everything’s been going okay with you?”

  Paige’s stomach dropped at the question. Going okay? Was she the only one who remembered her brother was sitting in jail waiting to be tried for murder? Or did people expect someone in her situation to just bounce back to normal and get on with life after the tragic event of her brother’s arrest?

  If the latter was true, she was still a long way from feeling normal. But she spared him that thought and instead forced a tight smile. “I’m alive.” And not in jail. Actually, now that she thought about it, she was better than okay.

  Ted’s deep chuckle exploded from his chest, warming her despite the heavy burden lingering in her own. “Good, I’m glad.”

  A sturdy hand squeezed her shoulder, and Paige flinched. Swiveling around, she locked eyes with Seth.

  “Hey, I’m waiting for a call back from Brett, and while we’re here I’d like to check on a couple other things. I thought you might like to wait in my office.”

  Was he kidding? Hallelujah! “Sure, I’d like to do that.”

  Paige hadn’t so much as turned around when she heard Seth start to fill Ted in on her near miss, as he saw it, at the condo unit. By the time they left the condo, she had recounted the story at least a dozen times to the maintenance supervisor and his crew. The whole ordeal had left her exhausted, and she had no energy to relive that conversation again.

  Paige ducked into Seth’s office, relieved to be finally out of earshot of any more speculation about the attempts on her life. She only wished they could figure out who wanted her dead.

  Slumping into one of the black vinyl chairs across from Seth’s desk, she closed her eyes. Finally, a moment of peace. She drew in a deep breath and said a quick prayer, grateful that God was watching over her.

  She almost found it amusing when she thought about how her life used to be. Ordinary. Average. Even boring at times. What she wouldn’t give for a little ordinary. Because what her life consisted of now—constantly looking over her shoulder while she tried to unearth evidence with nothing more to go on than a hunch—was really getting old. And dangerous.

  And there didn’t seem to be an end in sight.

  Paige sighed, her moment of peace scrubbed away by that harsh reality.

  Opening her eyes, she straightened, tension rippling through her shoulder blades. And in the midst of all the chaos, Seth had been there to help. The parking deck. The courthouse. And now Tessa’s condo. She shook her head, trying to take it all in. Despite the hard feelings between them, she was grateful that he’d been there tonight. His navy SEAL training and ardent detective instincts probably saved her life.

  Yet the very idea of having to count on Seth during the rest of her stay twisted her stomach into a hard, painful knot. Paige took a deep, steadying breath, trying to fight the guilt eating at her.

  She knew she probably should apologize to Seth for requesting to have him removed from her case, but even as guilt pricked her, she knew it was the right thing to do. The reality was, her onetime confidant was now her number one adversary in her quest to clear her brother’s name.

  Well...outside of the creep that was trying to kill her.

  A chill prickled her arms, and she rubbed her hands over them. Still, it touched her heart to know that somewhere deep down Seth still cared about her. He wanted her safe.

  Which meant he wanted her gone. Out of Boone.

  She breathed deep, trying to curb her disappointment. Clearly their agendas didn’t jibe, and it was that misguided attempt of his to keep her safe that only reconfirmed that having him on her case would be a mistake. Ten long months and nothing had changed—not his feelings about her brother or her.

  She’d left town and hadn’t looked back, and Seth didn’t seem to mind in the least.

  Swallowing a sigh, Paige pushed all those unproductive thoughts out of her mind.

  She shifted more comfortably in the chair and crossed her arms as seconds ticked by in slow motion. Time she didn’t have to waste. She glanced at the clock on the wall and the pendulum swaying lazily back and forth as silence stretched across the room. The clock, a rustic old-world design, was the one she’d given to Seth for his birthday last year. She’d laughed when he told her where he was going to hang it. He said having it in his office would keep him prompt for their dates. But there was more than a bit of irony in that statement, because Seth was the definition of prompt.

  Seth took everything in his life seriously. A tough, brave and dedicated detective. Ethical. Caring. A master of multitasking. Brilliant in every way, yet so wrong about her brother. She shook her head.

  Okay. Enough of that. Sucking in a deep breath, Paige got to her feet and went to the window. Lightning flashed. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Another stormy night. Pitch-black. No stars or moon to brighten up the obsidian gloom or quell the even darker fears inside her heart.

  “Paige.”

  She spun around from the window as Brett’s deep voice rumbled through the room. She also had an appreciation for him; he was never more than a phone call away. Even if it was his day off. “Brett, thanks for coming.”

  Brett stepped deeper into the room, his pale blue eyes shadowed. “Not a problem. How are you doing?”

  Seth followed in close on his heels. He stepped around Brett and, without so much as a glance in Paige’s direction, went straight to his desk and turned on his laptop.

  Her gaze returned to Brett. She gave a small shrug. “I’ve had better days.”

  A rare smile tipped Brett’s thin lips. “I’d like to think so.”

  And she was ready to call this day done. “Surely, the maintenance workers are finished by now. Because I’m ready to get out of here.”

  “Actually—” Brett crossed his arms over his chest. “—I just spoke to Jack, the maintenance crew chief at Beaver Creek, and he said they are finished.”

  “And?” She held her breath.

  Brett gave an offhand shrug. “From what they found, it doesn’t appear foul play was involved.”

  Immediately the stress in her shoulders started to evaporate, and for the first time since she’d arrived in Boone, she felt a genuine smile tug at her lips. Finally, good news amid a myriad of other concerns. “So, a close call,” she said, splaying a hand against her chest. “But no intentional threat to my life. Wonderful.”

  “That’s how it appears.” Brett sounded confident. “The complex got hit pretty hard during the recent storm. Several of the buildings had serious damage. The area of siding over your door has probably been hanging on by a thread since then.”

  As Paige listened to Brett’s explanation, the memory of the violent storm stirred vividly in her mind. The maintenance crew’s rationale made perfect sense.

  Feeling relieved, she grabbed her handbag and jacket from the
chair, suddenly feeling more antsy about getting out of there. “Thanks for the information. I feel much better.”

  “I wouldn’t be too quick to make light of what happened tonight,” Seth interjected, glancing up from his computer. “Another possibility you may consider is that the recent storm and all its damage could give a person with an agenda to kill a perfect opportunity to stage an accident. No questions asked. And no one would be the wiser.”

  Brett gave Seth a scathing look, clearly not liking his hypothesis. And Paige agreed with him. Storm damage was a common phenomenon. But Seth could be a skeptic, so she wasn’t surprised by his assumption, even if it was a stretch for her own overactive imagination.

  “Paige, I think for now we should just go with the obvious.” Brett flashed her a decisive look.

  “All right,” she said, slightly under her breath. She felt awkward taking sides, but Brett was the detective running her investigation.

  “Then I guess we’re done for now.” Brett fished his keys out of his coat pocket and turned toward the door. “If you’d like a lift home, I’ll be going right by your place.”

  Perfect. She brightened a bit. She’d already put Seth through enough for one day. But her heart tightened as Seth pushed his chair back and stood. A muscle ticked in his jaw, the expression that overtook him whenever he was deeply concerned or annoyed. At the moment, she’d say both probably applied. He obviously didn’t buy the maintenance crew’s conclusion, not wanting to settle for such a simple explanation. Brett, on the other hand, was more black-and-white. Polar opposites. Paige wasn’t sure whether to further acknowledge Seth’s concerns or leave it alone.

  “Paige, ready?” Brett waited at the door.

  Okay. Leave it alone.

  “Yes.” She slipped on her coat and slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “I’m ready.”

  As Seth grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and wrestled it on, he threw a testy glance at Brett before meeting Paige’s gaze. “Stay safe. Call if you need anything.”

  She nodded and followed Brett out the door. A fist of fresh grief squeezed her heart. She needed plenty, but unfortunately, nothing that involved Seth Garrison.

  FIVE

  Two o’clock in the morning and Seth couldn’t sleep. Instead he was up, pacing tirelessly back and forth in the living room of his home, a rustic cabin located on a twenty-acre wooded parcel that at one time he’d hoped to share with Paige. Paige. The woman he couldn’t get out of his head.

  Stubborn. Naive. Beautiful. Willing to risk her life on a hunch that her brother was innocent. A maybe that all the evidence pointing to him had been tampered with and the real murderer was still out there.

  A ludicrous endeavor, Seth’s rational mind shouted, even as a small, distal part of his brain whispered, What if Paige is right?

  Whoa. Seth halted his march, his spine snapping taut. Where had that thought come from? He’d been Trey’s arresting officer. He’d been objective. Considered every angle. Scrutinized every ounce of evidence.

  The case was airtight. Seth rubbed his head as if to solidify those facts. Still, a sliver of skepticism lingered. Seth shook it away and picked up his march, paced to the family room, turned around and went back to the kitchen, chalking up any doubt in his mind to exhaustion.

  Yep. His brain was fried.

  But no matter if he harbored skepticism about Trey’s guilt, Seth carried no doubt that someone out there wanted Paige dead. A harsh reality that kept him on edge.

  And with that reality came questions, concerns that kept his mind reeling as he tried to figure out what could be driving her attacker. Revenge? Or was there something deeper, a score they’d yet to consider?

  Whatever the motive, her pursuer was creative and persistent. That fact burned like fire in his gut.

  And the closer they got to Trey’s trial, the more desperate Paige would be to find evidence to help him, and her perpetrator equally desperate to get to her.

  Exasperation tightened Seth’s chest as fear for Paige’s safety shot to the red zone.

  Paige was a smart woman, and yet, no matter the evidence spotlighting her brother’s guilt or the dangerous situations she’d found herself in since she’d been in Boone, she couldn’t be convinced to take a step back and allow Trey’s future to rest with the court.

  And with that stubborn spirit, it was only a matter of time before she ended up getting hurt. Or worse.

  The need to protect her niggled deep in Seth’s gut, but he tamped it down, reminding himself that Paige was an independent woman and no longer part of his life. She could do what she wanted to do.

  That rationale lasted about a split second before concern for Paige bubbled back up.

  And the worst part—there was nothing he could do about it.

  Huffing a sigh, Seth made a sharp right toward the window, stepping over a pile of wood trim left over from his ongoing renovation. A project he’d planned to work on during his time off over the next few days.

  An idea he’d given up on for the time being. Along with getting any sleep. Every time his head hit the pillow, his brain flipped into overdrive. Trying to figure out the details of Paige’s case.

  Who was after Paige? And why?

  Seth halted his steps and peered out the window. Darkness. Not even the moon in the sky. A sharp wind blew, trees creaked and whined, leaves rustled. As tumultuous outside as the turmoil brewing inside him.

  Paige wasn’t going to budge. No matter what got in her way. And in Seth’s opinion, Brett being on her case wasn’t helping things. He was looking at things way too objectively. Something Seth always strove to do also, but with Paige’s safety on the line, he wished Brett would be a little more proactive.

  Because right now, Seth couldn’t shake his concern or erase the reality that someone had it out for Paige.

  Sighing a long breath, Seth wheeled around and headed to the living room. He grabbed his work laptop. Fretting was unproductive and only ramped up his concern. With sleep not on his agenda, he might as well do a little investigating himself.

  He nudged his old hound, Laser, from his recliner and sat down. Then, positioning his laptop on the coffee table, he signed in to his work account and into the department’s resource website. He punched Gentry Cramer’s name into the browser window, and dozens of articles linked to him popped on the screen. Local news pieces, criminal background information, even obituary notices for his sister and father in which he was listed as a family member.

  Seth clicked on one link after another and read through articles depicting a variety of things, from Gentry’s glowing community service endeavors to his outspoken views about his sister’s murder. Seth also verified his criminal history. Clean. Not even a speeding ticket. The guy was a model citizen, brother and son.

  Gentry had never been a suspect in the case. Even though Gentry had zeroed in on Trey from the get-go, confident he’d killed Madison, that hadn’t raised red flags. With all the evidence they had, he wasn’t alone.

  But with the recent threats on Paige’s life, Seth couldn’t help but wonder if Gentry’s anger toward Trey had pushed him to take revenge. And Paige being back in Boone offered a perfect opportunity to do so.

  A fine hypothesis. Now all he needed was evidence to prove it. And at the same time keep Paige out of his way.

  Seth blew out a frustrated breath and continued his search, reading every article that scrolled across the screen that mentioned the name Gentry Cramer. And there was no shortage of them. The man was active in the community. An expert in antiques and the art world. He’d even started a foundation in honor of his sister.

  Seth found nothing too noteworthy until an article about Frank Cramer, Madison and Gentry’s father, popped up on the screen. Sitting up straighter, Seth took a moment to skim through it.

  Frank had been killed by a drunk driver. The driver, a prominent man from a neighboring county, survived but later served time for Cramer’s death.

  Seth settled back in his lea
ther recliner, fingers steepled, pressed against his lip, wondering if the Cramers had been awarded a financial settlement after Frank’s death. Seth had always heard stories that at the time of the accident, the community came together and rallied around the family. Seth had assumed their help was monetary, but maybe the Cramers didn’t need financial help.

  Seth closed his laptop with a snap. Kicking back in the recliner, he crossed his arms and let those thoughts sink in. Maybe there was more than a broken heart at stake for Trey when he and Madison split—one more reason that might have driven him to kill his wife?

  * * *

  The next morning Paige was up and out of the condo before seven and, after what seemed like a lifetime, finally arrived at her destination. She looked over both shoulders and then started up the brick walkway to a small clapboard bungalow on Elm Street. Amy Miles’s home. She hated to be paranoid, but she was aware of the fact that someone was keeping close tabs on her. And she wasn’t taking any chances. For her sake and Amy’s. And as much as she hated to drag Amy into this mess, she needed her help.

  Taking a deep breath, she marched up to the porch, then up several steps. Gnawing the inside of her lip, Paige took another quick look over her shoulder, running her eyes up and down the street. So far, so good. No cars on the road. No one lurking around. She breathed a little easier.

  She’d ditched her car at Paulie’s Restaurant on Main Street and jumped on the Appalcart, the city’s public bus. After two hours, four bus transfers and several different not so scenic routes around town, she finally got off at Appalachian Drive and walked the final two blocks to Elm Street.

  Hopefully, if someone had been on her tail, they were long lost by now.

  She said a little prayer reiterating that concern. In the four days since she’d arrived in Boone, she’d met one obstacle after another. But today everything seemed to be falling into place.

  After a long night of debating, she’d gotten up, and before she lost her nerve, she’d grabbed her cell phone and dialed Cramer’s Antiques. She’d taken a huge risk, especially if Gentry happened to answer the phone. She would likely be looking at harassment to go along with the trespassing charge she’d already been slapped with.