continent at a moment’s notice to stop the spread
of industrial espionage or whatever shit S.I. Industries faced.
Even with all that running through his head, he couldn’t stop himself from pressing
Rachel against him, kissing her forehead, then settling her face onto his shoulder.
Her sigh of contentment made him harder.
“So, is Val the only friend who came with you from Florida?”
“Yes. After the divorce, Owen and I had a few ugly fights. My family lived nearby,
and he tried to drag them into our dispute once. I didn’t love the principal of the
school I worked for, and I couldn’t afford to stay in the house my ex-husband and
I had bought together, so I started applying to schools all over the South. Lafayette
Parish hired me.”
So if Owen lived in Florida, how could he have been in a bar in Lafayette yesterday,
soliciting murder? It was possible. But likely?
But if he ruled the ex out, how many other suspects did he have? Zilch.
“It’s nice that you’ve made some friends here.”
She smiled. “Shonda has been great. I’m so glad that her brother is going to be all
right. A couple of broken bones and a mild concussion, but he’ll heal up.”
“Good news.” He paused, brushing his fingers through her silky sable hair again. “You
seem like such a kind person. I’ll bet you don’t have any enemies.”
Rachel lifted her head to look down at him and paused. “Not that I know of. I’m generally
on better footing with Owen now. My family says he’s got a new girlfriend and that
Carly has been good for him. I can’t think of anyone else I’ve exchanged any cross
words with.”
“Know if his girlfriend’s jealous of you?”
“Why should she be?” Rachel shrugged. “I’m out of his life and have
no
interest in returning.”
Even if it didn’t seem likely, the sexually inept ex still remained his only suspect.
Not that Decker wouldn’t love to nail his ass to the wall, but he worried that pinning
this murder for hire on Owen might be a bit too easy, like saying the butler did it.
If the guy lived in Florida, it would be awfully inconvenient to travel to Lafayette
simply to solicit a murder. And obvious, too. Then again, maybe he’d simply called
a sympathetic friend and convinced him to hire out this dirty work. Hard to know . . .
Better to keep digging.
“I’ll bet you’re an expert at handling agitated parents,” he praised. “And your students
must love you.”
“I’ve only been teaching here for a few months, but my interactions have been largely
positive. Most of my parents are really involved in their kids’ lives, so that makes
the partnering great.”
“You haven’t had any trouble with them?”
“No.”
“Like all your new neighbors?”
“The few I know, yeah. It’s a neighborhood of mostly young professionals, so everyone
is busy doing their own thing.”
So unless she had some secret or silent hater, had seen something she shouldn’t have,
or was the target of some random freak, Decker didn’t have any better suspects than
Owen. Damn it, he had to get to a computer and find a picture of the guy, check his
current whereabouts, see if that’s who’d plopped his hateful ass down on the barstool
beside his and offered him mid-five figures to kill Rachel.
“What about you?” she asked, cutting into his thoughts.
Decker opened his mouth to give her a bullshit reply, but paused. He was already lying
to her about his reason for being at that bar, his reason for going home with her,
his reason for staying. For some damn reason, he didn’t want to lie about this, too.
“I don’t have many friends beyond Xander and Javier. A few of their local buddies
are cool. I’ve spent a lot of time on tours and missions all over the world. A lot
of the guys I considered friends didn’t make it home. I’ve got my share of enemies.
I’ve got a ruthless streak. If anyone fucks with me or mine,