“And when was this?” Landon asked intently, leaning against the bar counter.
“The day his boat exploded.” Rex lowered his chin. “Said that after escaping the explosion, he had nowhere to turn…”
Landon frowned. “He did—but Eddie chose not to seek help.”
Raquelle made a sound in agreement, feeling she would have done whatever she could have to help him. Landon clearly was of the same mind. Yet to Eddie, none of the options were to his liking. At least where it concerned involving her—which she had to respect.
Now they were left wondering if he had managed to get out of the area…the state maybe. Or had Eddie been prevented from doing this?
Just then, Landon’s cell phone rang. He removed it from the pocket of his chinos, glanced at the caller ID, then answered workwise, “Briscoe…”
Raquelle watched as his expression went from nonchalant to distressed to something resembling resignation before Landon told the caller he was on his way.
“What is it?” Raquelle had to ask him, piqued, as he put the phone away.
“An adult male’s body was discovered in the woods, not far from Eddie’s apartment complex.” Landon’s brows knitted. “They think it could be Eddie…”
She choked up in hearing this but said, hoping against hope, “Maybe it’s not him.”
Landon placed a firm hand on her shoulder sympathetically.“I need to head over there. If you’d like, I can make the identification, if necessary, sparing you from—”
Raquelle cut in adamantly, “I don’t need to be spared, Landon. If it is my brother, I need to see for myself—and deal with it…” No matter how painful it would be to her.
“Okay,” he concurred. “You can follow me.”
Chapter Eight
The last thing Landon wanted was for Raquelle to have to identify a corpse as the body of her brother. But who was he to tell her she didn’t have that right? Especially when she had every right to face her greatest fears, one way or the other.
Similarly, Landon would not have wanted anyone but himself to make a positive identification had it been Raquelle who was found shot to death in the woods. In spite of the fact that her loss in that way—even though they were no longer married—would have been unimaginable.
When they arrived at the location off Qray Lane, which was about a quarter of a mile from Eddie’s apartment complex, Landon flashed his ID to a slender twentysomething, curly blond-haired police officer, allowing him and Raquelle past the wooded area that had been cordoned off with yellow crime scene police tape.
As they approached the body, Landon grabbed Raquelle’s shoulder, stopping her in her tracks in wanting to spare her from the potentially devastating news. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked in earnest.
She sucked in a deep breath, locked onto his eyes stably,and responded without blinking, “I’m sure. I owe that much to Eddie…if it’s him…”
“Okay.” Landon admired her courage as much as her strength in character that helped him fall in love with her when he did back in the day.
They were met by Homicide Detective Spencer Davidson of the Gadwall Heights Police Department. African American and in his forties, he was taller than Landon and just as well-built, with a shaved fade haircut, full goatee, and solid brown eyes.
After Landon introduced himself and Raquelle, Spencer, holding a pair of latex gloves, said bleakly, “Looks like the victim—who was discovered by our K-9 unit—may have been ambushed by someone. He was shot multiple times at pointblank range.”
Landon furrowed his brow, while thinking ill at ease,Time for the rubber to hit the road in seeing what—or who—we’re looking at. He gazed at Raquelle, who appeared to still herself in preparation at what they might see.
As Spencer stepped aside, they moved closer to the deceased. He was lying in a pool of blood on his back, wearing a blue half-zip pullover, jeans, and brown-white sneakers. Landon judged the man—with bullet wounds to the head and chest—who was tall and lanky, to be in his early to mid-thirties. He had dark hair in a short mullet and a square-shaped face with a skin tone and features that resembled those of Eddie Jernigan.
“It’s not him,” Raquelle asserted.
“No?” Landon asked to be sure for the record, though he concurred.
“No—this isn’t my brother, Eddie,” she reiterated with a heavy sigh.
“I’m in agreement with you there,” he told her, while wondering if the close resemblance was happenstance or if the killer mistakenly believed the victim to be Eddie.
Without warning, Raquelle wrapped her arms around him in an emotional moment of relief, and Landon held her in his arms, happy to take one victory at a time as the search for Eddie continued.
“Thank goodness it wasn’t him,” she uttered softly.
