Pine Lake. Amanda Stevens
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first to arrive on the scene. If he gets skittish, he’ll come after me.”
“That doesn’t give me much comfort,” she said with a frown.
“It should. I know how to handle myself.”
“Leon told me that you’d been a cop. And now you’re some sort of security consultant. With all your experience, you must have some idea of how Jamie died.”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
She swallowed. “I wasn’t. But now I think you have to tell me.”
“She has what appears to be a large exit wound between her eyes. I’m guessing she was shot at close range in the back of the head.”
“In the back of the head...” Olive repeated numbly.
“Without a closer examination of the body or a look at the autopsy report, I can only speculate. But I’ve seen the pattern of the wound before in execution-style murders.”
“Execution?” She stared at him in shock. “Who would do such a thing to poor Jamie?”
“You never heard talk about her involvement in any illegal activities?”
“She got into some trouble when she was younger. Drugs. Possession, I think. Her mother asked Nathan to represent her, but the family didn’t have any money. He agreed to take the case pro bono if Jamie agreed to go to night school and get her GED.”
“What about her boyfriend?”
“I don’t know him personally, but Tommy was right. Marc Waller is bad news. He was also arrested for possession but with the intent to sell. If convicted, he could have gone to prison for a very long time. But Nathan got the case dismissed because of an unlawful search. Needless to say, that didn’t go over well with local law enforcement.”
“Nathan Bolt seems to be the go-to attorney for drug charges,” Jack observed.
“Well, there aren’t a lot of choices in the area and my cousin is very good at what he does.” She sighed. “The news about Jamie will devastate him. If it turns out that Marc Waller had anything to do with her death, Nathan will never forgive himself.”
These revelations were all very interesting to Jack. On the night of his return, he’d stumbled across a murder victim who happened to be a young woman that Nathan Bolt had taken under his wing. The timing was a little more than Jack could swallow as happenstance.
“It’s late,” Olive said. “And we’re both expected at the police station first thing in the morning so...”
“Right. I’ll walk you to the door.”
“You don’t need to do that. I’m fine.”
Jack reached for the door handle. “For my own peace of mind, I’d like to have a look around before I go.”
“To be honest, it’s probably best for my peace of mind, too.”
They got out of the car and walked up the porch steps together. The front door stood ajar and Olive turned to him with a worried frown.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I probably failed to close it earlier.”
Jack brushed past her, glancing over his shoulder to scan the street and all the shadowy corners of the yard before toeing open the door. “Where’s the light switch?”
“To your left.”
“Wait here.” He eased through the quiet house, giving each room a thorough search before returning to the foyer. “All clear.”
“Thanks for checking.” Olive stepped inside and followed his gaze to the bolt at the top of the door. “A precaution. Not that it did any good tonight.”
“You unlocked the deadbolt in your sleep?”
“Apparently.”
“You should get a security system, one with a loud enough alarm to wake you if a door or window is opened.”
“Yes, my mother had one put in when the episodes first started. As I said, I thought I’d outgrown them, but after tonight, I won’t take any chances. I’ll arrange for an installation as soon as possible.”
Jack took a last sweep of the small, but comfortable living area. The walls were white and the furniture gray, not unlike the nondescript color scheme in his apartment. But Olive had punctuated the space with pillows and throw rugs in bright shades of red and turquoise. He observed everything, not because her design aesthetic interested him, but because a house could reveal a lot about the person who lived there.
Olive Belmont seemed to be an open book. If her cousin was involved in something as shady as Tommy had implied, Jack doubted she knew anything about it. But then, he had been fooled before.
He stepped out on the porch and scoured the darkness. The breeze had picked up, fluttering through the trees in Olive’s front yard and unleashing the scent of jasmine from the bushes that grew up her fence. It was all very lush and homey and familiar and yet Jack felt strangely unmoored as if coming back here to his hometown had caused him to lose his bearings.
He turned back to Olive. “Are you sure you’ll be all right for the rest of the night?”
“I’ll be fine. If I sleep at all, it won’t be deeply enough to leave my bed.”
An image of that bed floated through Jack’s head—crisp white linens and soft, soft pillows.
“Well, good night, then.” He bent impulsively to kiss her cheek. The action took both of them by surprise and she jerked her head just enough so that his mouth brushed hers.
He didn’t pull away or offer an apology. Instead, he tangled his fingers in her hair and brought his mouth to hers, this time on purpose. She responded by parting her lips and kissing him back. When he pulled away, she looked disoriented, as if she had just awakened from another harrowing adventure.
“What a strange night this has been,” she murmured.
“Hasn’t it, though?” he said over his shoulder as he strode down the steps.
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