“If they are amateurs hired to kill, that makes them professional hit men in my book,” Chief Warwick said. Lovell nodded.
She rolled her eyes. “Both of you are well aware of the difference between a professional assassin and Weeks and Beeks. An assassin would have been in and out before we even had a clue. They’d come in on their own and stay under the radar, not stop at Maggie’s for coffee and a chat about their target.”
Ava nodded.
“Which also means we can definitively eliminate anyone from your military past,” she continued.
“Were we ever looking into my military past?” Lovell asked.
“I considered it. But only briefly,” Daphne said, shooting Ava a look.
Ava nodded. “We did, too. Always good to keep the field wide until there’s a reason to narrow.”
“You really looked into that, Ava?” he asked.
“I’m surprised you’re surprised,” Daphne said. A green glare slid her way. She rolled her eyes at him. “Not taking that back. Seems shortsighted not to consider it.”
Ava chuckled. “A bit, yes,” she said, responding to Lovell’s question. “Daisy is the obvious suspect, but wearing blinders can be deadly in our world. You put enough terrible people out of commission while on the teams that it’s not out of the realm of possibility that someone from those circles decided to even the score. But I agree with Daphne, it’s not a line worth pursuing anymore.”
“Because of the gun?”
“That’s part of it. Weeks and Beeks are the other part,” Daphne said. “Someone with a grudge against you would have to make a huge investment to come here and off you. They’d need to organize travel, obtain a weapon, find you in the first place. All those sorts of things. They’d come with a plan, and skills, and wouldn’t go around stealing random cars and renting houses.”
“They didn’t rent the cabin where they held you,” Ryan corrected. “They broke in. It belongs to weekenders who aren’t here right now. The owners weren’t likely to show up during the storm, so my guess is they took a chance.”
“Ballsy or stupid,” Lovell muttered.
“Or both. In my experience, those tend to go hand in hand with a lot of folks,” Daphne replied. “But that’s even more evidence that Weeks and Beeks aren’t professionals. They have some skills. They clearly know how to hot-wire a car?—”
“And drive in the snow,” he added.
“And drive in the snow. But is anything about this screaming professional hit man?” she asked, mostly rhetorically.
“Not to me,” Ava replied.
Ryan was slower to commit, but after a beat, he dipped his chin. “The evidence does point to something less organized.”
“Which brings us back to Daisy,” Lovell said. “Finding an assassin isn’t something most people can just do, not without leaving a massive trail. But she’s been in jail for years. It’s like speed-dating for criminals on the inside. She had plenty of time to make the kind of connections that would lead her to Weeks and Beeks.”
They all fell silent, considering the possibility, then a snippet of the conversation she’d overheard came back to her, and she drew in a quick breath. Regrettably.
Lovell’s attention jerked to her from where he’d been staring into the fire. “Do you need more ibuprofen?” he asked as she set a hand on her ribs.
She took another, slower breath, then shook her head. “They said you’d panic,” she said. Lovell cocked his head.
“What?” Chief Warwick said.
Her brow furrowed as she recalled those moments in the cabin. “They took the picture of me soon after we arrived, but they agreed not to send it for three hours because they said you’dpanic.” She turned and looked at Lovell. “I’ve known you less than three days, and I’m confident in saying you wouldn’t panic. You might on the inside, but you wouldn’tactout of panic,” she said, giving voice to the thoughts she’d had the night before.
“And?” he asked.
“Wouldn’t Daisy know this about you? Wouldn’t she have told them you were more coolheaded than hot-tempered? Warned them not to assume you’d react like many men would?”
“She didn’t know me that well. I was a toy to her, not a man, and the only personality and character traits that toys have are those given to them by their owners,” he said. She hid a wince at those words. He hadn’t shared the full circumstances around the marriage, and it was unfathomable how such a strong man ended up in that situation, but clearly, he hadn’t forgiven himself for making whatever mistakes he thought he’d made.
“Idon’t know you well,” she pointed out instead.
He held her gaze, his both contemplative and raw. A feeling crept up on her that she couldn’t explain. In less than three days, did she alreadyseehim better than his wife had? That couldn’t, shouldn’t, be possible. And yet she might not be able to tell someone his favorite color or meal, but there was no doubt he was a man she’d want by her side in a crisis.
