* * *
WHILE WEARING Acap and dark sunglasses, Eddie watched inconspicuously as Raquelle and Penelope left the coffee bar and walked along the dock. They exchanged a few more words and embraced like lifelong friends before going their separate ways.
He tried to decide which one he should follow. His ex-girlfriend? He still longed for a second chance with and had wanted to communicate this to—then thought better of it for her own sake.
Or his beloved sister? Choosing to keep her in the dark was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But knowing full well the lengths his pursuers would go to in order to silence him forever was more than enough to want to keep his distance from Raquelle. That included by phone or computer—both of which could be intercepted by those who were capable of that sort of thing.
The last thing he wanted was for Raquelle to become a target too. She had a good life, and he didn’t want to mess with that. Besides, he knew that Landon would have her back, no matter where things went from here for all three of them.
Eddie watched again from his position on the dock as both Raquelle and Penelope headed for their vehicles. He wisely chose to leave both of them alone. Should he survive this crisis borne of his own making, there would be time to try and fix everything he had broken.
He walked away, making himself scarce again with the constant threat of death and disaster following him around like the Grim Reaper.
Chapter Fifteen
Landon played the guitar for Raquelle that evening. He was at her place, feeling very much like he belonged there once again. But never taking it for granted that this was where he was meant to be. He wanted Raquelle—and more than just to share the same bed with. They had come to terms with their past mistakes and were seemingly ready to explore a new beginning, where new memories could be created.
I won’t try to get it all back at once, no matter how comfortable things seem between us, Landon told himself. He was standing in the great room, as was Raquelle, while strumming the guitar, which she seemed riveted by.I can play all night if it makes her happy, he thought as a grin spread across his lips.
Each holding glasses of wine, they settled onto a modular sectional sofa that had an Indigenous custom-made slipcover on it. Landon thought it was a good time—or bad, depending on how you looked at it—to tell her about the most recent developments in the case. Whether he liked it or not, Raquelle had skin in the game, thanks to Eddie’s involvement.
“So, as it turned out, Fred Davenport didn’t take his own life,” Landon said with a catch to his voice. “He wasshot to death in a deliberately staged suicide, according to the coroner’s office, following the autopsy on Davenport.”
Raquelle cocked a brow. “For what purpose—to make it seem like he acted alone in blowing up Eddie’s boat?”
“I’d say it was more a half-hearted attempt to throw off the art-crimes investigation and take the onus off the main players in the game,” Landon told her matter-of-factly. He tasted the wine. “Instead, it shows the desperation and the lengths they are willing to go to in order to conceal their criminal behavior. Quite the contrary, as another homicide has been added to the investigation.” In so saying, Landon realized that it brought them back to Eddie and his invisibility. He truly regretted recruiting Raquelle’s brother as his CI—though it made sense at the time, for him and Eddie. But now, with his former brother-in-law still unaccounted for, he was an elephant in the room that figured to remain part of the picture so long as Eddie’s situation remained unresolved.
Raquelle sipped her wine, thoughtful. “I think Eddie is still alive—and may have contacted Penelope…”
“Really?” Landon was anxious to hear more. “Explain.”
Raquelle sighed and said, “Two days ago, someone with no caller ID phoned Penelope. Though she could hear breathing on the line, the caller never spoke before ending the call. She thought it might have been Eddie reaching out—but backpedaled instead.”
“Interesting…” Landon drank more wine as he assessed this. It would obviously mean that Eddie was alive and able to communicate from a position of safety. “What do you think?”
Raquelle met his gaze and answered pointblank, “Mygut tells me it was Eddie on the phone. He’s out there—somewhere—and trying to find his way back. But may not be sure how.”
“You could be right.” Landon sat back. “If it was Eddie, he has my number—and yours. We have to believe that he’s smart enough to push past any uncertainties and reach out to those in the best position to help him extricate himself out of this mess—before it’s too late…”
She nodded and tasted her wine. “I do believe that. Eddie has to know we’re on his side. When ready, he’ll make the call and do what he needs to do to reclaim his life.”
“Okay.” Landon put his arm across her shoulders, pulling them close together, while hoping her faith in Eddie would be justified. The harsh reality was that Ivan Pimentel still viewed Eddie as a major obstacle to his criminal enterprise and wanted him dead—even if Fred Davenport was no longer around to get the job done.
* * *
ONFRIDAY MORNING, Landon got a call from Detective Spencer Davidson.
“Hey,” he said curiously. “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to get back with you on the drifter, Lim Ramírez, shot to death in the woods…” Spencer drew a breath into the phone. “As the current theory is that it was a targeted hit—though apparently the wrong target—we came across some surveillance video a few blocks away from the crime scene that should interest you…”
Landon asked, definitely piqued, “What’s on it?”
“The footage clearly shows Ramírez being stalked by another man,” Spencer replied. “For how long, who knows? But this proves, if nothing else, that it wasn’t arandom murder. Ramírez was followed to the woods with the intent on assassinating him—believing him to be your CI, Eddie Jernigan, if what your investigation has put together is on the money.”
“It is,” Landon assured him. “All the pieces fit— including the resemblance between Eddie and Ramírez as well as the proximity to Eddie’s residence. And the fact that the murder occurred shortly after an IED was detonated on Eddie’s pontoon. Ramírez was simply in the wrong place at a convenient time for the killer. I believe the video will confirm that to be Fred Davenport, who was himself gunned down—”
“What’s that they say about you reap what you sow?” Spencer’s voice lowered an octave. “Must have been karma or something.”
