Mistletoe Justice. Carol J. PostЧитать онлайн книгу.
to neighbors had provided even worse news. Claire hadn’t just moved away. She’d disappeared. It was even investigated by the police. Did she leave willingly? Or had she uncovered something crooked and Wiggins—or someone—needed to shut her up?
When her gaze met Hunter’s, he was frowning.
“Are you sure you don’t want some Levy County detectives on this?”
“I’m positive.” She didn’t want to make an official report. What she needed was advice. Or maybe she just needed someone to listen, to let her know that she wasn’t alone. Because frankly, she was scared.
Her eyes dropped to her hands, now folded in her lap. “I’m so afraid that if the authorities check into this, I’ll be the one who gets charged. Wiggins’s partner won’t let him hurt me, at least for the time being. Short of killing me, the best way to guarantee my silence is to frame me. Judging from those password-protected files on my computer, I’d say he’s done exactly that.”
Hunter’s frown deepened. “I don’t like it. You need law enforcement on your side.”
“If I was sure they would be on my side, I’d be all for it. At this point, I’m more likely to be looked on as a suspect than a victim.” She crossed her arms and again sought out Jayden. He’d reached the bottom of the slide and was circling around to do it again.
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine someone seriously thinking you’re wrapped up in anything shady. There’s usually money involved. No offense, but you’re not exactly living in the lap of luxury.”
Maybe Hunter was right. She drove an older car and lived in a small rented house. Her bank balance was nothing to get excited about, either. But she had no idea what kind of evidence Wiggins had compiled against her.
She heaved a sigh. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, maybe you can check out Wiggins.”
He pulled a small notepad from his shirt pocket. “Full name?”
“Rupert Wiggins.”
“Do you have a social or at least a date of birth?”
“I can get both. They’re in my payroll program. I’ve just got to look it up without getting caught.” Worry knitted her brows, kick-starting the beginnings of a headache. “Wiggins has always watched me. That’s the way he is, with everyone. But now it’s different. It’s as if he knows I’m onto something.”
Hunter shook his head, his eyes heavy with concern. “Get me his info, and I’ll find out what I can. But don’t take any unnecessary chances. I really don’t like it that someone came into your house.”
“Trust me, I don’t, either.”
“I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me create a case and get an official investigation under way.”
“The mine isn’t in your jurisdiction.”
“Cedar Key has a reciprocating agreement with Levy County. I think they’d let me be involved. I’d rather be helping you beat trumped-up charges than attending your funeral.”
He had a point. But hopefully, he wouldn’t have to do either. “Let me find out how big of a mess I’m in first.”
Hunter tucked the notepad back into his pocket and rose from the bench. “All right. But be careful.”
“I will.” She forced a smile, then watched him walk away. Maybe she was crazy talking to a cop. But Hunter wasn’t just a cop. He was one of her closest friends. He knew her well enough to believe that she would never be involved in anything illegal, no matter how guilty she looked. But if Wiggins planted enough evidence against her, it would be out of Hunter’s hands.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and glanced at the time. Another fifteen minutes, and she would head home for lunch. By then, Jayden would be sufficiently worn-out. Not for a nap—he’d outgrown naps some time ago—but one of his videos would entertain him while she chatted with her mom.
“Mind if I join you?”
Darci started at the male voice next to her. When her eyes met familiar green ones, her stomach lurched. “Conner.”
He’d traded his mechanics’ coveralls for khaki cargo shorts and an olive-colored polo shirt that he filled out rather nicely. The fact that she noticed bothered her. When he grinned, the fact that he noticed that she noticed bothered her even more.
“What are you doing here?”
“We decided to take a minivacation.”
We? She followed his gaze to where a blond-haired boy stood at the top of one of the slides. The boy waved, and Conner waved back.
She raised her brows. Conner didn’t strike her as the fatherly type. The possibility piqued her interest, even though she didn’t want it to. “Is he yours?”
He watched him come down the slide, then turned his gaze on her. “Yes and no. He’s my sister’s, but she’s...gone.” He hesitated on the last word. “So I guess you can say he’s mine.”
She nodded. What did he mean, gone? Had she passed away or abandoned her son? He didn’t offer, and she wasn’t going to ask. “Have you been to Cedar Key before?”
“Several times. First time with Kyle, though.”
She let out a relieved sigh, shaking the ridiculous notion that he’d somehow followed her here. He had a history with Cedar Key, like so many other people in the area. It was a favorite tourist spot, quaint, artsy and so different from the usual overbuilt, congested vacation destinations in Florida.
“Have a seat.” She angled her head toward the other end of the bench. Since she had never said he could join her, he was still standing.
He sat next to her. “Thanks. How about you? Are you vacationing, or do you live here?”
“Neither. I grew up here, and my parents still live here. So Jayden and I come back and spend our weekends with them.” Maybe that was more than she should have told him. But he didn’t seem the stalker type. Jimmy Fuller could learn a thing or two from him.
“So which one is yours?”
She inclined her head toward the slide. Jayden was on his hands and knees in front of it, the momentum having toppled him forward.
“The one in the red shirt at the bottom of the slide.”
As she watched, another boy slid down and fell on top of him.
Conner cringed. “Is he all right?”
She stood and watched as the boy rolled to the side and Jayden pushed himself to his feet. He shook his hands, then patted them together, trying to get rid of the sand. The playground was mulched, but too many feet had scattered it.
“He’s all right. He’s a pretty tough little boy. Doesn’t cry much.” Doesn’t talk much, either.
He approached her then, palms up, and after tucking her water bottle under her arm, she brushed off his hands. Sand bothered him. A lot of things bothered him.
When she was finished, he reached for her water bottle.
She shook her head. “What do you say?”
He stretched higher, and she repeated her question, still holding the bottle out of his reach.
He dropped his arms. “Wawa, peas.”
She handed him the bottle and turned to Conner. “We need to go. Mom’s putting lunch on the table at one o’clock sharp.”
“Then you’d better not be late. Kyle and I will be here through tomorrow. Hopefully, our paths will cross again.”
The smile he gave her made her stomach flip-flop. She was usually immune to charming men, no matter how good-looking. But seeing Conner play the father role had a completely