Heartbreaker (Buchanan-Renard #1)

Heartbreaker (Buchanan-Renard #1) Page 39

“Say now, what are you wearing a gun for?” Lloyd asked Joe, seeing for the first time the weapon and holster attached to his belt. “You got yourself a permit for that thing?”

Joe smiled. “I sure do. I’ve got a badge too. Want to see it? I’ll bet it’s bigger than yours.”

“You being a smart-ass, boy?”

“He’s FBI,” Nick said.

Lloyd was losing ground fast and needed to find at least one area over which he could take control.

“Are you responsible for this here fire?” he asked Nick.

Nick didn’t think the question merited an answer. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from grabbing the sheriff by the neck.

Lorna was standing about five feet away from the two men, taking furious notes on a Big Chief tablet. She took a tentative step toward Nick, saw the look in his eyes, and backed away.

Joe motioned for Wesson to join them.

“What do you think you’re going to arrest Steve for?” the sheriff demanded. “Burning down his own house?”

“He’s already been arrested,” Joe informed him.

“On what charges?” Lloyd asked.

“Is there a problem here?” Wesson called out as he came running over.

“Who the hell are you?” Lloyd asked.

“Senior officer in charge,” Wesson responded.

Joe grinned. “He’s FBI too.”

“How many of you fellas are there in Holy Oaks? And what are you doing here anyway? This is my town,” he stressed. “And you all should have come directly to me if you knew about a problem here.”

A heated exchange followed. Lloyd kept insisting that he was taking Brenner with him, but there was no way that Wesson was going to let that happen. He also wasn’t going to tell the sheriff what the charges were, despite Lloyd’s protests that Wesson’s secrecy was plain unconstitutional.

“It’s an ongoing investigation.”

“Investigation of what?”

Nick was seething, but his anger was fully directed on Wesson. He wasn’t going to wait much longer to get some answers, and if that meant having an argument in a public forum, then that’s the way it was going to go down.

“Can you believe this?” Joe whispered. “The two of them are in a pissing contest.”

“Yeah, well, they can figure out who’s the bigger man later. Hey, Sheriff, where’s your son?”

The question distracted Lloyd. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m going to arrest him.”

Lloyd’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “The hell you are. My boy hasn’t done anything wrong.” Making a wide sweep with his arm he added, “You can see for yourself, he ain’t even here.”

“He was here.”

“Bullshit.” Lloyd dragged the word out. “I’m saying he wasn’t here, and I’m not gonna let you pin this on my boy. He was home with me all evening. We watched wrestling together on the television.”

“I saw him,” Nick said.

“You couldn’t have seen him ’cause, like I just told you, he was home all evening with me.”

Nick addressed Wesson. “I want a word in private with you. Now.”

He saw Lorna start toward them and turned around and walked toward the empty lot, away from prying ears. Wesson looked perturbed but followed Nick.

“What is it?”

Anger punctuated Nick’s words. “Where the hell were the agents you told me you assigned to watch the house? If they were here, then how come Lonnie got past them? The kid went out the back door.”

Wesson’s lips formed a thin line of disapproval. He didn’t like anyone questioning his decisions.

“They left yesterday.”

“They what?”

“They were given new assignments.”

The muscle in Nick’s jaw clenched. “Who gave the order?”

“I did. Feinberg and Farley were sufficient backup. I felt that was all the manpower I needed.”

“And you didn’t think it was necessary to inform Noah or me?”

“No, I didn’t,” Wesson answered very matter-of-factly. “You volunteered to be Laurant’s bodyguard, and you’re the one who brought in Noah to guard her brother. Frankly, if you hadn’t gotten Morganstern’s approval, you wouldn’t even be on this case. I certainly wouldn’t have approved it. You’re too personally involved, but because you’re one of Morganstern’s golden boys, he bent the rules and let you in. I don’t bend the rules,” he added. “And I don’t want or need your input. Have I made myself clear?”

“You really are a son of a bitch. You know that, Wesson?”

“Your insubordination is definitely going to be reported, agent.”

The threat didn’t faze Nick. “Be sure to spell it right.”

“You’re off the case.”

Nick exploded. “You put Laurant in jeopardy by trying to make this a one-man show. That’s what’s going in my report.”

Wesson was determined not to let Nick know how furious he was. “I did no such thing,” he said coolly. “When you have had time to calm down, you’ll realize that I didn’t need a dozen agents running around town, sticking out like sore thumbs. It’s the bottom line that counts. I got the unsub and that’s all the boss is going to care about.”

“You don’t have enough evidence to prove Brenner’s the unsub.”

“Yes, I do,” he insisted. “Look at the facts. Not everything has to be as complicated as you think it should be. Brenner was out of town and cannot account for his whereabouts. He had plenty of time to get to Kansas City, threaten the priest, and get back to Holy Oaks. He was careful about filing off the serial number on the camera, but he admitted he placed it in her house, and the only reason he went there tonight was because he thought you and Laurant were at the party. He’s been careful, but he made a mistake. They all do,” he added sagely. “We also know from witnesses that he was obsessed with Laurant and that he had plans to marry her. We can make a strong case that he snapped when she spurned him.”

“What witnesses?” Nick asked.

“Several people in town I’ve already gotten statements from. Brenner’s always been the primary suspect. You knew that. One of my agents is on his way back from the judge now with a warrant, and when he gets here, I’m personally going to go through Brenner’s house. I’m sure I’m going to find more evidence to convict him. By the book,” he added smugly.

“It’s too pat, Wesson.”

“I disagree,” he countered. “It was solid investigative work that nailed Brenner.”

“You’re letting your ego cloud your judgment,” he said. “Don’t you think it’s odd that he decided to bring another man in?”

“You’re referring to Lonnie, and the answer is no, I don’t think it’s odd or out of character. Brenner simply took advantage of an opportunity. He probably figured he could pin the crime on the kid.”

“What are you going to do about Lonnie?”

“I’ll let the local authorities take care of him.”

Nick gritted his teeth. “The local authority happens to be his father.”

Wesson didn’t want to be bothered with that detail. Tying up all the loose ends was a job for the underlings. “If everything goes according to schedule, Feinberg and I will be pulling out of here by tomorrow night at the latest. Farley’s leaving now,” he added. “And I really don’t see any reason for you or Noah to hang around. I meant it when I said you were off the case.”

Without a word or a backward glance, Nick walked away from the complacent bastard. Wesson was in his glory, and Nick knew he wasn’t going to listen to anything he had to say. Brenner was the unsub. Case closed.

When Nick got into the car, Laurant took one look as his face and asked, “What happened?”

“I’m officially off the case. Not that I was ever really on it,” he added derisively. “Wesson’s convinced that Brenner’s our guy. He’s waiting for a warrant so he can go through his house.”

“But that’s good, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer her. Wesson was waving at him, trying to get his attention, but Nick ignored him and started the car.

“Nick, talk to me.”

“This is all wrong.”

“You don’t think it’s Brenner.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t have any concrete reasons, but my gut’s telling me he isn’t the unsub. It’s too easy. Maybe Wesson’s right. Maybe I’m trying to make this more complicated than it really is. He’s kept Noah and me in the dark, so I don’t know what evidence they’ve got that convinces them. Hell, let’s get out of here. I’ve got to get some distance so I can think.”

“The Vandermans offered us their extra bedroom, and Willie and Justin also offered us beds. I told them we were going to sleep at the abbey.”

Nick pulled out into the street. “Do you want to go there?”

“No.”

“Okay. Then let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”

CHAPTER 28

They headed north into lake country. As soon as they left town, Nick called Noah to tell him what had happened. He suggested that he wait until the morning to tell Tommy.

“Be sure to stress that Laurant is okay,” he said.

As soon as he disconnected the call, Laurant asked, “What about the house? I saw you talking to the fire chief. Is everything gone?”

“No,” Nick answered. “The south side of the house is trashed, but the upstairs on the north side is still intact.”

“Do you think the closets are okay?”

“You worried about your clothes?”

“I had some of my paintings stored in the guest closet. It’s okay,” she hurried to add. “They aren’t very good.”

“How do you know they aren’t good? Have you ever let anyone see them?”

“I’ve told you, painting is just a hobby,” she answered.

She sounded so defensive, he decided to drop the subject. Their clothes smelled like smoke, and so he rolled his window down and let the breeze clear the air.

He stayed on the main two-lane highway for over an hour. Finding lodging wasn’t a problem. There were billboards crowded together near every crossroad advertising seasonal rates. He finally turned onto a tributary leading to the west and chose a strip motel located two miles from Lake Henry. The garish purple and orange neon sign was still flashing vacancy, but the office was dark. Nick woke the manager, paid for the room in cash, and to the old man’s delight, purchased two extra-large, red T-shirts sporting a white wide-mouth bass on the front and the name of the motel in bold white block letters on the back.

There were twelve units and twelve vacancies. Nick chose the end unit and parked the car behind the motel so that it wouldn’t be seen from the road.

The room was sparse but clean. The floor was gray and white linoleum squares; the walls were cement blocks painted gray, and there were two double beds against the far wall with a wobbly, three-legged nightstand in between. The shade on the chipped ceramic lamp was torn and had been patched with duct tape.

It was well after two in the morning, and both of them were exhausted. Laurant dumped the contents of the overnight bag on the bed and then gathered up their toiletries and put them on the shelf in the bathroom. She took her shower first, and when she was finished, she washed out her lacy underwear and hung the bra and panties on a plastic hanger to dry. She didn’t know what to do about her jeans and T-shirt. If she tried to use the bar of soap to wash them it would take forever, and she knew they wouldn’t be dry by morning. She was going to have to wear them again, but maybe they could find a Wal-Mart or Target on their way back to Holy Oaks, and she could buy clean clothing and change. There certainly weren’t any department stores this far north.

She put the concern aside and dried her hair with the blow dryer the owner had chained to the wall next to the mirror.

When she came out of the bathroom wearing the new T-shirt with the giant bass covering her chest, Nick smiled, the first bit of emotion he’d shown since they’d left town.

“You look good, babe.”

She tugged the T-shirt down to her knees. “I look ridiculous.”

He grinned again. “That too,” he admitted as he headed for the bathroom. “I can’t believe you got the charger for my phone. I’m damn glad you did though.”

“It was on the nightstand next to my glasses. I just grabbed everything I could get my hands on. I’ll tell you, it was scary going back into that bathroom, and I just threw things in the bag.”

She pulled the covers back and got into one of the double beds. Nick left the bathroom door open while he showered. The clear plastic shower curtain didn’t conceal much, but she tried not to stare. She only put on her glasses so she could write a shopping list. Of course, glancing into the bathroom every now and then was just natural curiosity on her part, that was all. Liar, liar. If she’d been wearing any pants, they’d be on fire now.

Nick was built like a Greek god. He was turned away from her, so she could only see his backside. The muscles in his upper arms and thighs were incredibly well defined. She thought his body was just about perfect.

When she realized her behavior bordered on that of a voyeur—and how disgusting was that—she took her glasses off so she couldn’t see anything if the temptation became too irresistible again. The man deserved a little privacy, didn’t he?

She picked up the remote, smiling when she saw that it too was chained to the wall, and then turned on the television and squinted at the screen.

They were acting as though they’d been married for years. At least Nick was. He seemed thoroughly relaxed with her and hadn’t even given the double beds a second glance. He was taking their situation in stride.

She wasn’t. She was a nervous wreck inside, grossly uptight, as Tommy would say, but she was determined not to let it show. If Nick guessed anything was wrong, she was fully prepared to lie and tell him that it was the trauma tonight that had put her on edge. She couldn’t tell him the truth because it would be a terrible burden for him, but she couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he knew what was going on inside her head.

Did he have any idea how she felt about him? What would he say if she told him she wanted him, and damn the consequences? One wonderful night together, and the memory could and would last her a lifetime. Not an affair or a fling, she qualified. Nick couldn’t handle that, and neither could she. But one night and no regrets. Not ever. Oh, how she longed to have his arms around her. To have him hold her and caress her.