Hometown Detective. Jennifer Morey
left now. They could make a fragmented family but a family nonetheless.
Raelyn had moved in with her grandmother until she’d gotten her own place. Adoptive grandmother notwithstanding, Raelyn must have come here not only to get away from her horrible father, but to be close to the only family she felt she had.
Kendra had spoken to Raelyn on several occasions, first shortly after Kaelyn’s funeral, then when she followed her to Chesterville. The twenty-two-year-old was uncomfortable welcoming her mother’s twin. She harbored a lot of anger, Kendra presumed, because by killing herself, Kaelyn left her daughter alone with an abusive dad. Kendra decided to leave her be, telling her to call when she was ready to talk. That had been a year ago. Kendra had lived in Chesterville for two years so far and Kaelyn had been murdered almost five years ago.
Kendra remembered the man outside and decided not to stay too late. Getting her things, she went downstairs and left through the back door. Searching for any sign of someone lingering, she walked down the alley toward her house.
* * *
After watching Kendra close her shop, Roman Cooper walked down the street toward the historic hotel where he’d checked in earlier. He planned to meet with Kendra in the morning, write his report and head back to Wyoming. The redheaded beauty moved in her element like a fiery angel. Tall and slender, thick hair left down and natural, she smiled at everyone and spent most of her time ringing in purchases. A zombie apocalypse could be happening all around her but she would go on and continue prospering. Just watching her agitated him enough to light up a smoke. Too bad he’d quit.
He could spot people like her a mile away. Life’s bounty fell at their feet. They had charmed, sheltered childhoods, lacked neither money nor imagination, and they only had to reach out and take anything they decided to have. Career. Money. House. Business. Whatever they desired. Nothing bad ever happened to them and they lived in denial that anything ever would. Maybe nothing bad would until the day they died. Roman didn’t live that way. He had no illusions of how awful life could be for some people. Not following a dream—or even knowing what to dream about—only made it worse. That was the biggest unfairness for him, not knowing his true calling. Meeting people like Kendra reminded him of that. She probably lived with the happy satisfaction that she had found her calling.
Ambition. Failure before success. Yeah, he got all that. Ambition had gotten him where he was today. What he could never grasp is how people like Kendra Scott knew what they wanted in life. How did anyone know that? Did an idea drop into their brain one random night or were they born with it already implanted?
Roman wasn’t a hopeless pessimist. He could relax and have a good time with anyone. He just couldn’t live in a cushy bubble that blocked reality.
He passed familiar shops along his way, reminded again of Kendra’s graceful yet wild attractiveness. Okay, he had to admit her striking beauty did have something to do with his reluctance to meet her. She might lasso him into sticking around too long.
Damn Kadin for sending him here. He’d done that on purpose.
* * *
Kendra left Lund’s Bakery as she did every Wednesday morning with a box of scones. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she collided with someone who had just appeared in the opening of the bakery. Bouncing backward, she bumped against the still-open door, and with her hand still gripping the handle, her arm wrenched.
“Ah!”
The man moved back quick enough. Supporting her arm, he steadied her so that she could free her hand from the handle.
Holding her fingers, she looked up from legs to hips to impressive chest to the face she’d seen last night. Although he’d been across the street, there was no mistaking his build and the general way he held himself. Tall and imposing, he held an aura of fearless confidence and something darker.
She took two steps back. “You.”
Light gray eyes changed from concern to questioning. “Me?”
“I...I saw you outside my...my shop...last night.” Maybe she shouldn’t reveal that. What if he was a killer?
She took another step back.
Taking note of her reaction, he grew shrewdly alert. “Were you looking for someone?”
Why would he ask her that? “No.”
“You’re just observant?”
“Who the hell are you?” She’d hardly tell a stranger his impressive build had drawn her attention to him, a peppering of sexy along with a dash of danger.
A half grin almost softened the hardness in his eyes. “Roman Cooper. Dark Alley Investigations. Didn’t anyone let you know I was coming?”
No one had called her. Maybe Jasper Roesch thought Roman could introduce himself. He had promised to send someone.
She took in Roman’s appearance, rugged but not unkempt. He was quite good-looking in a less than soft way. He was a detective? Although clean and lean, he carried the air of a rebel, a darkly handsome one. No reserved gentleman stood before her. He struck her as the type who let nothing stand in his way. She pictured detectives as more refined, caring more about appearances than their service to humanity.
“Why were you spying on me last night?” she asked.
He hesitated and that gave him away. “It was late.”
Why did he lie? “Jasper said he was going to send a detective. I was hoping he’d change his mind and take the case himself.”
“He’s busy getting married and having a baby right now.”
He didn’t sound impressed. In fact, he sounded a little condescending, as though marriage should never take priority over a case.
“Did you look into my sister’s case?”
“She doesn’t have a case,” he said. “The coroner’s report told me everything I needed to know. I agree with his assessment.”
Anger billowed up in a wave. So typical of what she expected in some people! “It is easier to agree with what’s already there. What were you going to do? Leave town without talking to me?”
“I would have met with you and you would have received a copy of my report.”
“But now that you’ve conveniently run into me, you don’t have to?” She wiped her hands together. “Problem solved?”
“I don’t mean to upset you.”
“There are other aspects to this case. You can’t just read a coroner’s report and agree with it. What if the coroner was wrong?”
“He’s a good coroner.”
“Good coroners can make honest mistakes.”
His handsome head bent a little, as though beseeching for understanding. “I have other cases.”
He wasn’t being rude. He truly believed Kaelyn killed herself. That stung. “There are things you don’t know that are important.”
Now his brow rose marginally. “What things?”
“Why don’t you just admit you don’t care enough about my sister’s case?”
“Your sister’s death does appear to be a suicide. I’m sorry that’s difficult for you to hear, but that’s my assessment. What things don’t I know?”
Her offense eased as she saw him open up to new information. “We talked a lot before her death,” Kendra said. “Why do you think the police never questioned me?”
“They didn’t need to.”
Her ire pricked again, she said, “Kaelyn told no one about me, Mr. Cooper. I went to her funeral and no one knew me. She kept me a secret. Why would she do that?”
He appeared to begin to consider how that might change his initial