Deadly Reunion. Florence Case
with those to get her attention. It was time to dig.
Pulling a camera from her purse, Angie checked the film and snapped a couple of pictures, then placed everything she carried except the shovel on the ground, making sure the camera was accessible.
With latex gloves ready nearby from the supply she brought with her, just in case she was successful today, she dug, stopping from time to time to document the uncovering of evidence with her camera. The wind that was supposed to bring in forecasted thunderstorms picked up, cooling her off some as she worked her muscles.
After a while, she glanced up at Boone. His eyes were sweeping the perimeter of the cemetery as he continued to protect her from an enemy he still considered unknown. As irritating as it was that he wouldn’t believe her about the danger being nil right then, that Boone cared enough to still be there no matter what kind of fire she set at his feet took just a bit of the hurt in her heart away.
A few minutes later, she unearthed the weapon, a Colt Model 1911, .45 caliber, semi-automatic pistol, a match to the bullets recovered and to the antique gun she’d seen near the body. It was in a sealed evidence bag along with the chain of custody form, which had only one name written on it—Cliff’s.
The murder weapon.
Ida’s whole face was puckered up, reflecting the “eeew” factor of reality murder that never could quite come through in suspense novels. “There’s dried blood on that thing, isn’t there?”
Blood, and Angie didn’t want to think about what else as she put on her gloves.
“Don’t detectives use evidence boxes for weapons now?” Boone asked her.
She started to speculate that maybe the bag was all Cliff had handy when he stole it from the scene, but Ida was right there, watching both of them like she was getting paid to do so, so Angie only shrugged, not wanting to give away too much information. Holding the bag by one corner, she carefully placed it into an empty compartment in her oversized purse, specks of dirt and all, and started to push the soil back into the hole with her shovel.
“Don’t worry about that,” Boone told her, taking a couple of bills out of his wallet. Angie stopped and watched him give the money to Ida. “This should cover replacing the flowers.”
Ida’s eyes went big. “Sure thing,” she said. “You leave me your business card, and I’ll be happy to send you the change.”
“Keep it,” Boone said.
Ida beamed. “You two have been fun, but I gotta get back so I can get a hold of the landscaper before someone sees the mess and has their serenity interrupted. If you need more help, just whistle.” Ida set off ahead of them back to the cottage.
Angie dusted off the knees of her jeans and then peeled off her gloves. With Ida gone, her thoughts cascaded back to Boone. She shouldn’t ask him about the money. She shouldn’t. But in the last half hour or so, she had witnessed a new, vulnerable side of him she hadn’t known existed, giving her a smidgen of hope he had it in him to change from the work-possessed person he was into someone who might really put her first. She had to find out. “What was with the handout?”
“She reminded me of my mother,” he said. “Always struggling, never coming out ahead, and never quite being noticed by anyone. So I noticed her.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.
“You never told me that much about your childhood.”
Every muscle of his body stiffened. She had to remember she no longer had any right to challenge him on anything he did. They weren’t in love anymore. They weren’t anything anymore, not even good friends.
“Sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
His expression said he agreed with her, but then he spoke anyway. “Dad was wrongly accused of murder, got convicted and died in prison before I got my law degree and could help him. It was hard for Mom before I got old enough to work. I don’t like to talk about it.”
Bending, he scooped up the metal detector and the shovel and waited for her to start walking back. She did, stepping ahead, but she sensed him keeping up behind her. So close, she couldn’t avoid thinking about him.
His father’s misfortune explained a lot about Boone. Just like her and her sister, he was driven by a passion—he was freeing his dad with every man he defended. Now she understood why he’d chosen Detry over her. Problem was, understanding only lessened the pain a little; it didn’t take it all away. Didn’t free her up to fall back in love with him.
She walked up the lane, silently, the added weight of having to part from Boone very soon now on her mind. She was no longer as irritated with him as she’d been, and the man had a magnetic pull on her that she couldn’t deny. Eye magnet, as Ida had said, and maybe a heart magnet, too. She wanted him around. She wanted him to make her smile. She was so tired of frowning. Of being alone. Of not having anyone who loved her. Boone had. It was just that his priorities came first, and she came second.
She wanted someone to put her first.
God loves you, a small voice inside her reminded.
True. God would find her a husband who would fit into His will for her. All she had to do was wait. But she’d been waiting all her life to be really loved, and it was getting more and more difficult. Would it be better to accept Boone as he was, to settle for being second in his life? To have some love instead of none at all?
She gave herself a hard mental shake. Boone was dangerous. Being around him made her both ache with regret and wish upon a star. She couldn’t afford to have her emotions swinging her mind around in circles, distracting her from the most important thing in her life—saving her sister.
A wind gust blew her hair up around her cheeks, and she glanced up at the sky. The clouds were thickening. She hoped it wasn’t some sort of a sign.
“What do you say I take us right to the sheriff’s department and let my friend fast-track the print identification to the criminal-investigation bureau?” Boone asked from behind her.
“Sure,” she said, continuing to walk toward his car. Boone’s solution would mean putting up with him awhile longer, but it also took care of her problem with explaining to the bureau herself why she wasn’t filtering the gun through proper channels. She could live with that.
“So what did you have in mind while we wait for the results?” he asked.
Getting away from him. That’s what she had in mind. Wait a second…“While we wait? It could take a couple days, we both know that. You don’t have to stick around me all that time. What about your court cases?”
“I’m putting you first this time, Angel, remember?”
She sucked in a breath. That was eerie, hearing him say the exact words that had been on her mind a minute before. Eerie and sad. Some six months ago, right after the trial, she’d have been overjoyed at his statement—assuming it had been coupled with an apology. But presently, she understood what drove Boone. He was putting her first only because she’d proven him wrong about her negligence and he figured he owed her for ruining her reputation. It was more of a putting her first right now than forever kind of thing.
The big question was if she should make it easy on him to make amends or not and let him come with her to her mother’s. As a Christian, she needed to forgive him. As a woman, though, her hurt was still running so very deep, and she couldn’t pretend all was well between them when it definitely was not.
On the other hand, she didn’t like to whine.
“What I’m going to be doing while I wait,” she said, carefully keeping emotion out of her voice, “is heading to my mother’s house in Newton for the wedding festivities.”
“That’s fine. I’ll get a hotel room so I can stay close and attend all of it with you.”
“There’s no reason to.”
“Until we figure out who threatened