Read Online Raven's Cove - Jenna Ryan by Intrigue Romance - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Intrigue Romance
Ads: Link
playing?”
Although he found this side of her strangely arousing, Rogan knew better than to mention it. Or get too close to her right now. Pushing off, he headed for the nearest window. “We let the killer think we’re playing by his rules. Then we slip our own cards into the mix and hopefully control the outcome.”
She swiped a line with her hand. “Forget cards and who’s playing by whose rules. Do you think we’re dealing—don’t say it—with Malcolm Wainwright or not?”
“I think Wainwright’s dead.” Unable to fully shake the sensation of being watched that had been plaguing him for most of the day, Rogan eased the blind aside. “I also don’t believe his death’s being avenged. That could be wishful thinking on my part, but I still wouldn’t put it at the top of the list.”
She watched him as he moved from window to window. “What would you put there? A big question mark?”
“For the moment, yes.”
“But there is a connection to Daniel.”
“And the trial and the safe house. I just haven’t figured out where the lines intersect.” His eyes traveled over mist-covered bushes to the dense stand of trees behind them. “Tell me, Jasmine, how did Daniel take your divorce?”
“Excuse me?”
Rogan’s lips curved. “Was he okay with it, or, like most red-blooded males would have done, did he try to win you back?”
She knocked one of the stacks with her hip and had to make a quick grab to save it. “I’m not a poker chip. Our marriage didn’t work out. We grew apart rather than together. And if you’re suggesting that Daniel might be behind these murders or my feather, you’re wrong.”
“Only a question.”
“There you go. Question answered. Next suspect.”
“I’ll let you know when I have one.” His gaze cruised over a fog-shrouded rowboat trapped in the underbrush. “Did you still feel like we were being watched after we left Cutless’s office?”
“Are you kidding?” She headed for the kitchen with Boris trotting along behind her. “I’m feeling it now, and we’re inside. Uh…”
He knew what the look she shot him meant and grinned as he surveyed a clump of wild berry bushes. “There’s no one inside with us. Ask Boris.”
The growl he heard in response didn’t come from the dog.
When the bushes revealed nothing, he followed her to the kitchen. And almost bowled her over in the doorway.
“What?” he said, then lowered his gaze to the table, where Boxman sat crunching cornflakes, drinking beer and wearing nothing but his underwear.
At their combined stare, the big man glanced down at his striped boxers. “I got wet tromping through the woods looking for Daniel’s bod— Looking for Daniel.”
“We, uh, hmm…” Jasmine drummed up a smile. “No idea what to say.”
Rogan had a few ideas, but none worth uttering.
A thought had been nagging him since last night, and it had nothing to do with being watched. Or maybe it did, but only in a roundabout way.
Drawing Jasmine back to the main room, he said, “The guy on the phone yesterday—you heard him more clearly than I did. Can you remember his exact words?”
She glanced away. “He said he was my nemesis, my fate, and I should look for the feathery token he’d left on my front door. He mentioned a bird and death. Then he told me I was going to suffer the way he’d suffered before he died.”
The words came back, and with them the altered voice. The tone.
“He’s angry.” Rogan ran it again to be sure. “He was trying to taunt you while he frightened you.”
“News flash. He succeeded.”
“Only on your end. On his, the intonation changed. He tightened up when he said you were going to suffer.”
“That makes two of us.
A smile touched Rogan’s mouth, but there was no humor in it. “When he told you he’d suffered, he got even tighter. By the time he reached the last three words, his teeth were clenched.”
“And that means?”
Rogan let grim purpose blend with the darkness
Although he found this side of her strangely arousing, Rogan knew better than to mention it. Or get too close to her right now. Pushing off, he headed for the nearest window. “We let the killer think we’re playing by his rules. Then we slip our own cards into the mix and hopefully control the outcome.”
She swiped a line with her hand. “Forget cards and who’s playing by whose rules. Do you think we’re dealing—don’t say it—with Malcolm Wainwright or not?”
“I think Wainwright’s dead.” Unable to fully shake the sensation of being watched that had been plaguing him for most of the day, Rogan eased the blind aside. “I also don’t believe his death’s being avenged. That could be wishful thinking on my part, but I still wouldn’t put it at the top of the list.”
She watched him as he moved from window to window. “What would you put there? A big question mark?”
“For the moment, yes.”
“But there is a connection to Daniel.”
“And the trial and the safe house. I just haven’t figured out where the lines intersect.” His eyes traveled over mist-covered bushes to the dense stand of trees behind them. “Tell me, Jasmine, how did Daniel take your divorce?”
“Excuse me?”
Rogan’s lips curved. “Was he okay with it, or, like most red-blooded males would have done, did he try to win you back?”
She knocked one of the stacks with her hip and had to make a quick grab to save it. “I’m not a poker chip. Our marriage didn’t work out. We grew apart rather than together. And if you’re suggesting that Daniel might be behind these murders or my feather, you’re wrong.”
“Only a question.”
“There you go. Question answered. Next suspect.”
“I’ll let you know when I have one.” His gaze cruised over a fog-shrouded rowboat trapped in the underbrush. “Did you still feel like we were being watched after we left Cutless’s office?”
“Are you kidding?” She headed for the kitchen with Boris trotting along behind her. “I’m feeling it now, and we’re inside. Uh…”
He knew what the look she shot him meant and grinned as he surveyed a clump of wild berry bushes. “There’s no one inside with us. Ask Boris.”
The growl he heard in response didn’t come from the dog.
When the bushes revealed nothing, he followed her to the kitchen. And almost bowled her over in the doorway.
“What?” he said, then lowered his gaze to the table, where Boxman sat crunching cornflakes, drinking beer and wearing nothing but his underwear.
At their combined stare, the big man glanced down at his striped boxers. “I got wet tromping through the woods looking for Daniel’s bod— Looking for Daniel.”
“We, uh, hmm…” Jasmine drummed up a smile. “No idea what to say.”
Rogan had a few ideas, but none worth uttering.
A thought had been nagging him since last night, and it had nothing to do with being watched. Or maybe it did, but only in a roundabout way.
Drawing Jasmine back to the main room, he said, “The guy on the phone yesterday—you heard him more clearly than I did. Can you remember his exact words?”
She glanced away. “He said he was my nemesis, my fate, and I should look for the feathery token he’d left on my front door. He mentioned a bird and death. Then he told me I was going to suffer the way he’d suffered before he died.”
The words came back, and with them the altered voice. The tone.
“He’s angry.” Rogan ran it again to be sure. “He was trying to taunt you while he frightened you.”
“News flash. He succeeded.”
“Only on your end. On his, the intonation changed. He tightened up when he said you were going to suffer.”
“That makes two of us.
A smile touched Rogan’s mouth, but there was no humor in it. “When he told you he’d suffered, he got even tighter. By the time he reached the last three words, his teeth were clenched.”
“And that means?”
Rogan let grim purpose blend with the darkness
Similar Books
