“The way I see it, I’m stuck with you now. Chen’s never going to believe any of this, not unless we can prove it, and I’m not about to let you go out on your own to lure in a killer. Even if he is family.”
“Why do you even care?”
Why? Because even with her crazy story, he sensed she wasn’t lying. And because where she was concerned, he couldn’t turn his back on her. Not this time.
He shrugged. “Let’s just say my instincts are telling me not to let you out of my sight. So I guess the decision’s yours now. Either we do this together, or I haul you back to Chicago, kicking and screaming. What’ll it be?”
Indecision brewed in her eyes, but her gaze never dropped from his. “I don’t need your help, Maxwell.”
“No, but you’ve got it just the same. Be smart and take the hand I’m offering.”
CHAPTER TEN
As Hailey sat beside Shane in the front of the rental sedan, heading into the Florida Everglades, she asked herself—for the thousandth time—how the heck she’d ended up here.
She glanced sideways at him, seated behind the wheel, studying the mangrove trees on both sides of the road that led west out of Homestead. Dark hair fell over his forehead. A day’s worth of stubble covered his jaw. He’d tossed his leather jacket in the backseat when they’d climbed into the rental this afternoon, and the long-sleeved navy henley he wore stretched across wide, toned shoulders. He looked a little on edge, a lot dangerous and sexier than any man she’d ever seen.
She tamped down the zing of arousal rushing through her—the same one she got whenever she looked at him—and pointed toward a street sign a hundred yards ahead. “That’s it.”
He flipped on the blinker and slowed to make the turn. “Why in the hell would anyone live in the middle of this?”
“My uncle likes seclusion.”
“This isn’t seclusion. It’s like my personal version of hell. Humidity, alligators, snakes and no Micky D’s.”
“Please don’t tell me you eat that crap.”
“Alligators?”
“Big Macs.”
They bounced over a rather large pothole in the gravel road. “I’m a thirty-eight-year-old single guy who doesn’t cook. What do you think I eat?”
“Didn’t you ever see that movie about the guy who ate nothing but McDonald’s for a month straight?”
“Heard about it. Definitely changed my thinking. These days I keep it to twenty-five meals a month minimum.”
She couldn’t help it. She smiled. With that toned body, there was no way he ate greasy burgers every day.
Don’t go there. She looked back out the front windshield so she wouldn’t. A car passed them in a blur of dust, going the other direction.
“How do you know he’s even going to help us?” Shane asked.
The us in that question sent her stomach floating again, but she locked the feeling down and reminded herself he wasn’t here for romance. If he wanted to tag along on this, she couldn’t stop him, but that didn’t mean they had to rehash what had or hadn’t happened. Lord knew, she didn’t want to revisit the rejection if she didn’t have to.
“Graham’s the only person in the family I’ve ever gotten along with. He’s not money hungry like the rest of them. When I joined the force in Key West, he was the only one who congratulated me.”
“You said he’s on the Roarke board?”
“Yeah. When my grandparents passed, they left a small inheritance to both their sons. My father convinced Graham to invest his portion in my father’s new hotel chain. Graham never had a head for business, and my father knew that. He’s always been more interested in nature. If he hadn’t invested the money, he’d have squandered it away.”
“He never worked for the company?”
“Not officially. But over the years he’s been a sounding board for my father. He might not know the ins and outs of the business world, but he’s got good ideas. And my father used those ideas to expand into markets he otherwise might not have touched.”
“Does he live out here year-round?”
“No. He’s got a place in the Bahamas, too. And he likes to travel. When I saw him last week, though, he mentioned he was staying here for a few weeks. Reconnecting with nature, I guess you’d call it.”
“That’s not what I’d call it,” Shane mumbled as they crossed a rickety bridge over a narrow slough and followed the road through the dense thicket of trees.
“C’mon, Maxwell,” she teased, enjoying the way he was loosening up the farther they got from Chicago. “You’re not afraid of a few mosquitoes are you?”
“It’s not the mosquitoes I’m worried about. It’s everything else that’s hiding in that water.”
A clump of cypress trees covered in climbing ivy rose on the right side of the gravel road, interspersed with hardwoods like ash and maple. Saw palmettos grew in clumps around their bases. Tall reeds and bushes emerged from the slough on the left, and every once in a while—if you looked closely—you could see the movement of small birds, turtles and the alligators her uncle loved slinking through the grasses.
The winding road curved to the left another mile or two; then the trees opened to reveal a two-story log home with a wide porch, well kept and surrounded by lush green lawns. As Shane killed the engine and glanced around, it was obvious this wasn’t what he’d expected.
“Not a shack,” she said as she popped her door and climbed from the car.
He pushed the sunglasses he’d picked up at the airport into his thick, dark hair to get a better look at the house. “Likes to be secluded, huh?” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his loose jeans and fell into step beside her across the lawn. “Does he maintain the grounds all by himself?”
“Are you kidding? He’s in his sixties. That’s too much work for a man in his thirties. The Everglades have a way of taking over if you’re not careful. He has a crew that takes care of the property for him.”
“What does he do with his time?”
“He tinkers, mostly with his garden.” At his puzzled expression she added, “He’s a man who knows a ton about everything and is an expert at nothing. He’s never been focused on any one thing for as long as I’ve known him.”
“Great. A handyman millionaire. That explains this place.”
She smiled. “That’s why I like him.”
She knocked. And waited. When several minutes went by without so much as a sound from inside, she cupped her hand at the glass and peered into the living room window.
“The swamp’s bringing out all kinds today. First that guy from the company with all those papers for me to sign, now you.”
She turned at the gravelly voice and looked to the end of the porch where her uncle Graham was standing with a bucket in one weathered hand and a fishing pole in the other. He wore frayed denim shorts and a dirty white Key Largo T-shirt, but he looked just as familiar as he always did. Smiling, she walked toward him, returning the hug he gave her and shifting toward Shane. “Uncle Graham, this is Shane Maxwell. A friend of mine.”
Graham came up onto the porch and shook Shane’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Any friend of Hailey’s is a friend of mine.” He looked her way again. “Long drive. What are you doing here? And good God, girl, what happened to your face?”
Dammit. She’d forgotten to add extra makeup to her yellowing bruises. “Walked into a wall. Nothing big.” In an attempt to change the subject, she glanced at the bucket in his hand. “What do you have there?”
He lifted the yellow plastic pail. “Crawdads. Hungry? I could cook us up some lunch.”
“No, thanks.” Hailey put a hand on his arm. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Shane grimace. “We didn’t come to eat. But if you’ve got any of that famous tea of yours, I’d love a glass. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
A smile slinked across his wrinkled face, and he gestured for them to follow as he opened the screen door. “Miss Carmine made some this morning before she left. Come on back.
”
Graham moved through the long hallway that split the house in two. At Shane’s curious glance, Hailey whispered, “Carmine’s his housekeeper. She’s worked for him for years. They tend to be more than employer and employee, if you get the drift.”
Shane nodded, and a clicking sound came from his pocket as he followed her. “Crawdads?”
“A delicacy in the South. Don’t tell me you’ve never had them.”
“No, and I don’t plan to, either.”
The hall opened to a large central kitchen with white Formica counters, an oversize island and appliances Hailey had always figured had come with the house. They looked to be forty years old. She moved to the cupboard while Shane settled at one of the bar stools surrounding the island.
Graham opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of tea. “So what do you do, Mr. Maxwell?”
“Shane. Thanks.” He took the glass Hailey handed him. “Detective.”
Graham’s eyes lit. “Oh. So you work with Hailey in Key West.”
“Not exactly—”
“Maxwell’s sister is the one who recently married Rafe,” Hailey cut in.
“Sullivan,” Graham said with just a hint of disgust. “I didn’t know there were two women out there dumb enough to make the same mistake.”
A smirk came from Shane. Hailey ignored it and frowned at her uncle. “Very funny.”
“Oh, come on now,” Graham said as Hailey added ice to each glass and he poured tea. “He was never good enough for you, and we both know it.”
“Good enough wasn’t the issue. But that’s not why we came out here.”
Graham nodded and, because he knew it was a topic she didn’t like to discuss, moved on to what he probably suspected was her reason for being here. “You just get back from Wisconsin?”
Hailey took a drink of tea, set the glass down. “Yes. I did. We’re two months behind schedule, but I think we’ve found a way to shave off some time. Should put us closer to the grand opening we scheduled for Memorial Day.”
Graham shook his head. “That son of mine knows how to screw up a wet dream, doesn’t he?” He sighed as he swirled the ice in his glass. “I’m afraid he’s got no focus. Just like me.”
Shane lifted the glass to his lips and proceeded to spew iced tea all over the counter in front of him.
Hailey grabbed a napkin and came around the counter to pat his back. “Are you all right?”
When he could speak, he looked from the glass to her face. “Tastes like straight sugar.”
“Yankee,” Graham muttered.
“That’s because it’s sweet tea,” she told him.
“Where you from, son?” Graham asked.
“Chicago.”
Graham clucked his tongue. “They definitely don’t know tea in Chicago. Pizza maybe, but not tea.”
Hailey handed Shane the napkin and turned back to her uncle. Okay, enough chitchat. They needed to get to the root of why they were here. “Have you watched the news at all lately, Uncle Graham?”
He shook his head. “When I’m out here you know I don’t do anything but garden and fish.”
She walked around the counter so she was standing at his side. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
His eyes narrowed on her face. “What kind of bad news?”
“Maybe you should sit down. You know your heart—”
“Goddamn, girl, my heart’s just fine. Stop beating around the bush and tell me what you came to tell me.”
She stared at him, then finally said, “Bryan’s dead.”
“What?”
She explained what Shane had told her—as much as she knew—and waited while he processed it all. He didn’t sit, even when she suggested—again—that he move to the table, just stood in the same place staring at his untouched tea.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m so sorry.” She tightened her grip on his hand.
“Does the family know?”
“Yes.”
“No one told me.”
Another strike against her family. “I’m sure Madeline’s been busy with arrangements. And it’s possible they tried to call you out here. You’re not always reliable about listening to your messages. I tried to call you after I found out.”
“I…” He put a hand up to his mouth, rubbed his lips. “I always knew he was going to go before me.” When he glanced up, his eyes were filled with grief. “That’s a terrible thing for a father to say, isn’t it?”
Her heart broke for him. “No. It’s not your fault. Bryan wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. He did things his way, and in this case, someone didn’t like it.”
“Do they…do they know who killed him?”
“No,” Shane said, speaking up for the first time. When Graham’s clouded eyes turned his way, he added, “Someone’s trying to make it look like Hailey’s responsible, though.”
Graham’s gaze shot back to her. “Why would anyone think that? You don’t even like to kill spiders when you find them in the house. Anyone who knows you knows you couldn’t intentionally hurt someone. Especially Bryan.”
Though this was just about the worst conversation she could conceive of having, warmth bubbled through her. Graham was probably the only person in the world who believed in her innocence. Her family certainly didn’t. Shane hadn’t until he’d heard all the details, and even now she wasn’t completely convinced he believed her 100 percent. But Graham was on her side. He always had been.
“It’s complicated, Uncle Graham. You know Bryan and I never got along. Anyone who wants me gone from RR could play on that fact. But this goes beyond that. I think it has to do with Daddy’s will.”
At the mention of her father’s will, Graham frowned in disgust. “Your father should have had his head examined, instead of his heart.”
“I know.”
“Why do you think that’s what this is about?”
“Because,” Shane said, “CPD found your brother’s dagger in the house. Hailey said she had it with her at the board meeting in Miami, but hasn’t seen it since.”
“You’re investigating my son’s death?”
Shane’s dark gaze slid to Hailey. And just like it had in the car, awareness pulsed in her veins under that heated stare. “In a roundabout way, yeah, I am.”
She pulled her gaze from Shane and refocused on her uncle. “The only way I’m going to clear my name and figure out who really did kill Bryan is to find the sixth sculpture first.”
“How will that help?”
“If my hunch is right, whoever killed Bryan wants Roarke Resorts, and thanks to my father, the only way to get it is to go along with this stupid treasure hunt.”
“You think the person who did this did it to get his sculpture? A botched robbery?”
“Maybe,” Shane said. “And maybe there’s more to it than that. But that’s what we’re going on now.”
Graham rubbed a hand over his face. Fatigue and grief radiated from his lean frame. Hailey reached for his hand when he lowered it. “Uncle Graham. I need your help.”
He let out a long breath. “It’s in my study. You’re welcome to it. But, Hailey.” He wrapped his knobby fingers around hers. “Is it worth this? You never wanted this damn company. Certainly there’s a way to prove you didn’t have anything to do with Bryan’s…death. You’re a good girl. The police will figure that out.”
A sad smile pulled at her mouth. Same old Uncle Graham. Always seeing the best in people. Even in his no-good son who’d caused him more grief over the years than any parent deserved. Sure, Graham hadn’t been the best father, but he’d tried. And that was a lot more than Hailey could say for her own dad.
She could see in Shane’s eyes that he agreed with her uncle. She turned back to Graham. “I have to do this. There’s more to it than Bryan’s death. When I can, I’ll tell you the rest.”
He gave her a fierce hug. “I’m proud of you. Your father would be proud, too, you know.”
Hailey closed her eyes and hung on tight. “I doubt that. And save your praise until I figure this out. Daddy was right about one thing. I wasn’t a very good cop to begin with.”
“That’s not true. Your heart’s just always been somewhere else.” Graham eased back. “My bronze is locked in the cabinet in my study. You know where the key is, and you’re welcome to it. But you still need Nicole’s. And your mother’s.”
“I’ll get them.”
He ran his hand down her cheek. “Such confidence. I wish Bryan could have had some of your resolve.” Sadness crept over his face again, and he turned to look across the counter at Shane. “I appreciate anything you can do to help my niece in this. It’s nice to know she’s got one ally out there.” He looked around the kitchen as if he’d never seen it before. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go lie down for a bit.”
“Can I help you upstairs?” Hailey asked.
“No.” He waved a hand. “No. I just need some time alone.” He paused at the kitchen door and turned to look back. “Thirty-eight. The number on my bronze is thirty-eight.”
“Thank you, Uncle Graham.” Her heart pinched. “Do you mind if we take a look at it anyway?”
“No. You two…you take what you need.”
His sad smile stayed with her even after he left the kitchen. Hailey reached for her tea again. “Bryan was a real jerk, but that…that was heartbreaking. No child should die before their parent.”
“Happens more often than you think,” Shane said, rising and taking his full glass of tea to the sink while she sipped hers. He carefully avoided the bucket of crawdads and dumped his glass in the other sink well. “From what I gathered, your cousin had a long list of enemies. You weren’t the only one who benefited from his death.”
“I’m just the most obvious.”
He turned and looked at her with those dark eyes. “Yeah.” There was a lot he wasn’t saying, and she didn’t have the energy to try to figure him out. And as much as she loved her uncle, she needed to get what she’d come for and find out if Billy had gotten her the next piece on her list.
She drained her glass and took it to the sink; then she turned and headed for the hall. “His study’s through here. Let’s see if his sculpture answers any questions.”