Читать книгу Deadly Setup - Annslee Urban - Страница 11

THREE

Something startled Paige out of a sound sleep.

For a moment she lay stock-still, heart racing, listening. Distant thunder rumbled, and relief settled in.

Stop being paranoid. Paige sighed and rolled to her side. As she snuggled more comfortably beneath the down comforter, she glanced at the bedside clock. Eight fifteen.

She pushed aside her blankets and forced her still-achy body out of bed. Flipping on the light, a yellow glow flooded the room. So much for getting an early start.

She went straight to her suitcase, and as she started to unzip it, she caught her reflection in the dresser mirror, realizing she’d fallen asleep in her clothes.

Lord, help me get it together.

A creak and then something thumped, and she froze again.

Was someone in the house?

The floor creaked again, raising the hair on the back of her neck. She launched toward the bedroom door, pushing it shut and twisting the lock.

Her mind raced, keeping time with her thundering heart. She needed to do something. Call someone. Nine-one-one. No, Brett Ralston.

She spun back to the bedside and snatched her new phone from the side table, punching the one number on her list of contacts.

Teeth clenched, she pressed the handset against her ear, clasping tighter on each unanswered ring. Lord, let him answer.

A series of dull thumps. Footsteps!

A surge of panic fired through her. The ringing stopped, and Brett’s voice mail picked up. “Sorry I missed you—”

She slammed the disconnect key and then fumbled with her phone, trying to dial 911.

A faint thud sounded, then another, followed by an electrifying rumble as lightning flashed against the closed window blinds.

Fear exploded through Paige as a frantic scream tangled in her lungs. She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat as her knees buckled. She planted her hand on the bedside table to keep from toppling over, prayers flying heavenward. Lord, help me.

“Paige?”

Blinking, Paige’s breath caught. She shoved the phone back on her ear. “Brett?”

“Paige. Are you okay?”

Paige swung around on her toes, and her eyes riveted to the closed door, the cell phone dangling from her fingers. “Brett? Is that you?”

“Yes. It’s me.”

She rushed to the door then halted. What was Brett doing there? Before she could fully ponder the question, he answered it for her.

“I stopped by to see how you were doing.”

Her confidence in Brett continued to soar. “Thank you—” She stopped, jarred by another thought. “Brett, how did you get inside the condo?”

“I knocked, and when you didn’t answer I tried the door and it was unlocked.” His deep voice carried through the wood door.

Brett’s words rattled around her head. Unlocked? She’d made two trips to her car for groceries, but could she have been so distracted she’d forgotten to lock the door?

Her chest tightened. This ordeal with her brother was making her crazy.

“Paige. Are you okay?”

Without answering, she twisted the lock and pulled open the door. Breath froze in her lungs as Brett appeared in her line of sight, his deep-set eyes narrowing as he stared down at her, a black revolver clasped in his hand.

“You really need to be more careful about locking your doors.” Brett holstered his gun, and she breathed again.

“You’re right.” She nodded, hand to her heart as if she could slow the frantic beat. “I’ve just been so distracted.” And exhausted and frazzled.

“Understood.” Brett’s expression was guarded as always, but his fair eyes remained somewhat skeptical. “I received a message from Seth last night. He told me about yesterday’s parking-deck incident. He’s pretty concerned about you. Sounds like you had another scare.”

A lump settled in Paige’s throat as she thought about Seth. She’d let frustration get the best of her yesterday, and once again her conversation with him ended on a sour note. And despite it all he was still concerned about her.

Lord, help me to be more gracious when it comes to Seth.

“And, from what Seth told me, I’m inclined to agree with him,” Brett continued, folding his arms over his chest. “The best idea would be for you to head back home and hang low for a while.”

Raw emotions bubbled up inside her, flowing through her veins like molten lava. Her brother’s life was at stake. Didn’t anyone get that? “Brett, I can’t do that.”

Brett had been supportive after her brother’s arrest. He’d been a close friend of Trey’s. Even after she’d left town, he made an effort to call and check in with her. If anyone should understand her motives to stay, he should.

Paige straightened, tossing her bedraggled curls over her shoulders. “Brett, everyone seems to agree that my life is in danger. Isn’t that enough to raise suspicion that maybe Madison’s killer is still out there? And open up a new avenue in her murder investi—”

“That’s not my call,” Brett snapped before she could finish. “We can’t assume anything until there’s concrete evidence to back it up. But be assured the Watauga County Sheriff’s Department has a strong team of detectives. They’ll dig into this. And the best thing for you to do in the meantime is go home to Durham.”

Of course he’d think that. Paige blew out an impatient breath. She’d hoped, but never directly asked, if Brett thought her brother was innocent. The one advocate she thought she had.

“I appreciate your concern, Brett,” she said, forcing a warm smile. “But I’ve learned my lesson. I plan to keep my cell phone close and my doors locked. I’ll keep an eye on my surroundings, and at the first sign of trouble I’ll call for help.”

Brett’s thick blond brows knit above his prominent nose. “I wish you’d let this go, Paige, and let the courts handle it.”

Perfect cop lingo. Easy advice for someone with nothing to lose. “Thank you, Brett. And you’ll keep me posted on any progress on my case?”

Brett tilted his head and tightened his arms. “There’s no convincing you, is there?”

She hesitated a long moment and then shook her head. “No, sorry.” She managed another small grin. “But, about the investigation...”

Brett unfolded his arms and rested his hands on his waist. “I already have people searching county records for the make and model of the pickup that was seen yesterday. We’ll be looking closely at the owners and their possible connection to the Cramer family. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

She felt better already. With a steadying breath, she went with Brett to the door, locking it after he walked out. She slumped down at the table in the kitchen, the dash of hope, the determination she’d brought along with her to Boone, starting to wane.

She’d expected Seth to balk at the idea that her would-be killer was also the same person who killed Madison, but even Brett brushed off her theory.

Which only brought the truth into razor-sharp focus.

Cops thrived on hard facts. Gut feelings weren’t enough.

Right now, all she had was her gut.

* * *

Seth jerked awake, his heart racing and his body covered in sweat. Again. This had been going on all night long. Falling asleep only to be woken within the hour, his acid-drenched stomach clenched in knots as his foggy brain struggled against nightmarish images—flashbacks of a horrific crime scene the night Madison was murdered.

The scene was like Seth remembered. A dimly lit room. The hum of anguished sobs nearly drowned out by the wail of police sirens outside the house. Trey Becker cowering beside a lifeless body, a ring of blood pooled around her. In his nightmare, every detail was eerily consistent to Madison’s murder—except the victim was Paige Becker.

A sick feeling chilled Seth to the bone, even as he continued to remind himself it was only a dream.

Fighting a groan, he rolled to his side and glanced at the red numbers on the bedside clock, sighing when he read nine o’clock. He’d slept in and still felt exhausted.

Flopping onto his back, he scrubbed his face with his hands as if he was able to scrub the horrible image out of his brain. During his career as a navy SEAL, he’d witnessed countless vicious events and battled his share of nightmares because of it.

But the feeling of foreboding that accompanied this dream he couldn’t shake. If anything ever happened to Paige, he’d—

Stop it! Seth sat up in bed. He wasn’t responsible for keeping Paige safe, he coached himself firmly. She didn’t need his help. Didn’t want his help.

He always felt better after a dose of levelheaded rationale.

But not today.

Seth blew out a frustrated breath, jaw clenching as he snagged his cell off the bedside table. Worrying about Paige was unproductive.

As he scrolled through his emails, he mentally prioritized the messages in order of importance and tried to stay focused. But thoughts of Paige kept tumbling back, and along with those thoughts came several nagging questions.

If someone was trying to hurt her, who was it? One of Madison’s family members? An angry neighbor? A friend? Even more important, what was Brett’s plan to protect Paige?

Last night Seth had left a message for Brett about Paige’s parking deck scare. Brett texted him a quick thank-you, but Seth had hoped for a call back. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in Brett’s ability as a detective, but he’d feel better knowing the details for Brett’s strategy on solving Paige’s case.

Seth eyed the list of messages again. Maybe Brett had called and he’d missed it. He scrolled one more time down the page to the end. Nada.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he tossed the phone on the bed. Brett didn’t have any obligation to keep him in the loop. Not that Seth blamed him. Paige didn’t want him around. Brett probably knew that.

For the next minute, Seth just sat there, jaw clenched, the ceiling fan whirring lazily overhead as he ordered himself to get a grip. He needed to forget about the case. Period.

This was going to be a long couple weeks. Groaning under his breath, he got up and pulled on some jeans. If nothing else, he could satisfy his growling stomach.

He stopped midstride on his way to the kitchen as a thought came to him. Nothing said he couldn’t call and check in on a friend. If nothing else, that’s what Paige was. A friend. He hoped she thought the same of him.

Without further speculation, Seth pivoted back and grabbed his phone. He punched in Paige’s number, surprised at how quickly it came back to him. Which meant nothing, he told himself, other than his navy-ingrained memory skills were still sharply intact.

Three...four...five...

Seth counted the rings, about to hang up, when Paige finally picked up.

“Hello.”

Relief flowed, and Seth sank down on the edge of the bed. “Good morning, Paige.”

For a long moment, taut silence stretched across the line. Finally she said, “Seth? Is that you?”

He heard a degree of trepidation in her voice. “Yes. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No—no, I was awake.”

Seth paused, giving her a moment to say more. Instead more awkward silence hung on the line. “Good. I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” He scowled at the conversation, or lack of. “I just wanted to call and make sure everything was okay.”

Paige’s heated sigh sizzled through the phone line. “I don’t think anything in my life will be okay until Madison’s killer is caught and my brother is free.”

Seth mentally kicked himself. He’d set himself up for that one. He shifted the cell to his other ear, tried again. “How are you feeling from the accident?” A more pointed question.

Another sigh, but less heated. “Other than being a little stiff, I feel better, thank you.”

“Good.” Now, if she would only hightail it back to Durham, he’d feel better. “Paige, I’d like to talk to you about your decision to stay in Boone. I really don’t think it’s a good idea, especially after—” He was trying to tread lightly around the sensitive subject, but she shut him down quickly.

“Seth, I need to get going. I have a full agenda today.”

Of course she does. Seth swallowed a snort. Trouble. That’s what he saw on her agenda. She was setting herself up for more grief and pain...or worse. “Paige, you really need to go back to Durham.” So much for treading lightly.

“I’m not leaving, Seth.”

Seth’s jaw tightened as he willed away the protective anger that was building in his chest. “Paige, two days ago someone ran you off the road and yesterday someone was following you. Aren’t you concerned about your safety?”

“I’m concerned about my brother.”

“Well, I’m concerned about you.”

Silence.

Seth ran an agitated hand through his hair, remembering a time when talking to Paige was anything but awkward. A time when she was rational. But that time wasn’t now.

“Paige—”

“I have to go.”

Before he could say more, she disconnected.

An hour later, Seth hunkered down behind the computer in his office, nursing a strong cup of coffee as he read over Trey Becker’s case file.

The click of the doorknob, and his office door opened, breaking his concentration. Seth peered over the top of the computer screen as Detective Ted Hanson stood in the doorway.

“I thought I saw a light on in here.”

Seth smirked and lifted a brow. “And you didn’t think to knock?”

A chuckle rumbled from deep in Ted’s chest. “I suppose I would have, had I thought you’d actually be here. What happened to not stepping a foot back in this place until you used up every minute of your vacation days?”

He’d obviously been talking to the chief. Seth glared at his friend. “Don’t ask.”

“Can’t stop thinking about Paige’s case, huh?”

Ted was a lifelong buddy; they’d both grown up in Raleigh before leaving to attend Appalachian State University in Boone. And after Seth’s stint in the navy, Ted recruited him to the sheriff’s department. Ted was a good man, thick as a bear, all muscle, and didn’t believe in beating around the bush.

Still, Seth ignored his comment. The truth was, Ted was right. He couldn’t stop thinking about Paige, period. A fact he hated to even admit to himself. “You know Ralston’s on the case.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Ted leaned against the doorjamb. “Although I also heard he’s working on a strong lead.”

Seth set down his cup and rocked back in his chair. “He’s on the hunt for a white Ford extended-cab pickup.”

“Wow.” Ted whistled softly between his teeth. “There’s no shortage of those around here.”

“No kidding.”

“Any suspects?”

“Nope.”

Ted folded his arms across his chest. “Do you really think someone’s targeting Paige?”

Seth shifted in his swivel chair, elbows propped on the arms. After a moment, he nodded and gave his one-word conclusion. “Yes.”

“And all you have going for you is a make and color of a truck.” Ted shook his head. “Buddy, you have your work cut out for you.”

A pang of uneasy worry tightened Seth’s gut, but he shoved it away. He rocked back farther in his chair and intertwined his fingers behind his head. “Tell that to Ralston. It’s not my case.”

Ted gave a short, amused laugh. “Maybe not officially. But you’re not here on your day off for nothing. Let me guess what you’re looking over.”

Ted was also perceptive. Just not always right. “It’s not Paige’s case,” Seth said with a wry smile.

“Really?” Ted’s brown eyes narrowed. “So, then what are you doing here?”

Seth had asked himself the same question more than once since he arrived. “I’m looking over Trey Becker’s files.”

“Trey Becker?” Ted echoed, then added, “I thought the case against him was airtight.”

“Just looking over it with fresh eyes. Brainstorming.” Seth rocked forward and shrugged. “Probably a waste of time.” But he wanted to make sure the case was as rock solid as he remembered, secured by evidence and not assumptions.

Ted nodded. “The good news is, Trey’s trial is in less than two weeks. So Paige shouldn’t be in town long. In the meantime, where’s she staying?”

Thirteen long days. Seth bit back a smirk. He looked at Ted. “She’s staying at a friend’s condo at Beaver Creek.”

“That’s good. A gated community.” Ted nodded again. “I heard that patrol cars were making extra rounds in the area last night. Ralston must have ordered that.”

Seth wished Ralston had been so proactive. He shook his head. “Ralston didn’t. I did.” Seth thought he’d sleep better with beefed-up security in the condo area. He was wrong.

Ted’s laugh rumbled through the room as he walked out the door. “And you’re not on Paige’s case? Right. You might want to buddy up with Ralston on this one.”

“No. Ralston’s got it.” For now. Seth planned to keep his eye on things from a distance. Like it or not, Paige didn’t want him around.

* * *

The bell tinkled over the aged wooden door when Paige stepped into Cramer’s Antique and Gift Mart, a quaint shop filled with not only antique treasures, but also floral arrangements, gourmet treats and unique works of art.

Several steps inside, Paige’s nose picked up the rich scents of dark chocolate and fresh flowers mingling with old polished wood. An aroma that on any other day might have been appealing. But today a wave of nausea overtook her.

Paige swallowed against it, hoping she wasn’t wasting her time coming here. Originally, she had planned to get in touch with Madison’s friends and coworkers and distance herself from the Cramer family. But without the list of contact information she had on her phone, she was left with no choice but to stop by the family business to make those connections.

Paige said a quick prayer that she wasn’t overstepping her boundaries and that she’d learn something new. Anything. A single clue. One little piece to the puzzle. She’d be happy with that.

Every clue matters. Seth’s words played in her head. A warm feeling washed through her, and she felt a momentary twinge of peace. Inwardly she smiled. One clue at a time, and God would lead her to the truth.

Paige heard muffled steps. She looked to the right as a tall thirtysomething woman in jeans and a purple sweatshirt rounded the corner, a potted plant in her hand. The woman stiffened and froze when she saw Paige. Her eyebrows gathering over her wide, challenging stare confirmed Paige’s greatest fear.

She wasn’t welcome. Her heart throbbed. So far, she’d met opposition at every juncture. Trembling yet determined, Paige swallowed around the lump in her throat and forced her feet forward. Feigning nonchalance, she extended her hand. “Good morning. I’m Paige—”

“I know who you are, Miss Becker.” The woman, whose badge read Amy, slid the pot onto the counter beside the register. “I saw your picture in yesterday’s paper.”

Great. She’d probably made front-page news—Trey Becker’s Sister Runs Off Mountain Pass. She bit back a sigh.

“And I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here,” Amy continued in a low, strained voice as she craned her head to glance over her shoulder.

In that split second Paige felt the anxiety in the room ratchet higher. She followed Amy’s glance to an open doorway at the rear of the shop.

Icy tingles skipped up Paige’s spine. “Is Mrs. Cramer in?”

“No.” A grimace took hold of Amy’s face. “Mrs. Cramer hasn’t worked since Madison’s death. She can’t even step into the shop. Everything around here reminds her of her daughter.”

Paige’s heart surged, touched by Mrs. Cramer’s grief. This wasn’t fair. A mother losing her daughter. No mother deserved that. She fought back the memories of Madison’s brutal murder, sudden tears biting her eyes. Lord, somehow bring Mrs. Cramer comfort. “I’m very sorry to hear about Mrs. Cramer. I know her heart is broken.”

“It has been hard for everyone,” Amy replied tightly as sadness crept into her hazel eyes. “And I’m sorry about your brother.”

The unexpected words wrapped around Paige like a hug. “Thank you,” she said, taking a long breath. Then she remembered something Trey had told her. A close friend of Madison’s, Amy Miles, had informed police that someone had been stalking Madison before she died. An allegation Trey was now suspected of. Was this the same Amy?

It was hard for Paige to keep the quaver out of her voice as she asked Amy about her relationship with Madison.

Grabbing a pair of pruning shears, Amy worked as she spoke in a hushed tone, pausing one time to glance back at the doorway. “We were close,” she started. “At times, like sisters. But there were things about Madison I just couldn’t figure out.”

Interest piqued, Paige took a step closer. “What kind of things?”

“Well—” Amy shrugged as she continued to snip brown tips off the leafy houseplant. “Madison’s impulsiveness, for one. She would jump feetfirst into something only to later try and backpedal out of the situation.”

“Like her relationship with my brother?” Paige muttered, mostly to herself. Madison and Trey’s whirlwind romance had gone from dating to married in a matter of weeks. They’d eloped without even planning a wedding. Less than a year later they were separated, her brother’s heart broken.

Amy stopped pruning, and she met Paige’s gaze. “Yes, Madison jumped into the marriage. But Trey wasn’t the problem. Being committed to anything or anyone scared Madison to death.” She set down the shears. “But Madison did love Trey. I’d hoped things would work out for them.”

The words slashed through Paige. After Trey and Madison separated, Paige rallied around Trey, struck by the hurt he was dealing with, never considering his wife’s pain. Madison had suffered the loss of her father when she was a teen. A traumatic loss that could affect a victim’s ability to form healthy relationships throughout a lifetime.

A deep sadness swept through Paige, trailed by guilt. She’d counseled women with similar issues. Why hadn’t she thought to reach out to Madison?

Before regret got the best of her, Paige took a calming breath. The past couldn’t be erased. She needed to concentrate on the future. Trey’s future. She cleared her throat. “Amy, do you believe my brother killed Madison?”

Amy’s eyes went wide, and her pale complexion turned impossibly paler. “I don’t know what to believe.”

Hope wrapped around Paige’s heart and squeezed. I don’t know meant there was some doubt in Amy’s mind. Unlike other narrow-minded, judgmental townsfolk who already had her brother tried and sentenced. Seth included.

Hiking her purse strap higher on her shoulder, Paige pressed on. “Did Madison ever tell you she thought someone was stalking her?”

Amy grimaced and shook her head. “Miss Becker, you really should go. Madison’s brother will be in soon and wouldn’t be happy to see you here.”

She could understand Gentry having hard feelings. He believed Trey had killed his sister, but hopefully he’d understand that she was just looking for the truth. “Amy, if you’ll just answer a few more questions, I’d be so appreciative.”

“I’ve already said more than I should have.”

Actually, she hadn’t said enough. Paige hesitated a moment and then shrugged. “I’m just trying to make sense of it all. Trey is my brother and—”

“I get it,” Amy cut her off with a harsh whisper. “To answer your question, yes, Madison mentioned a couple weeks before she was killed that at times she felt like she was being followed.”

“Why didn’t she go to the police?” Whoa. Paige took a deep, bracing breath. She was starting to sound like Seth.

Amy locked eyes with Paige. A kind of impatient stare that said, listen closely. I’m only going to say this once. “Madison second-guessed everything in her life and in this case, she kept going back to the notion that she was just being paranoid.” Amy started clipping again. “I guess I didn’t take it serious enough, either. Otherwise, I would have pressed her to contact law enforcement.”

“Amy, it’s not your fault.” Paige was also good at second-guessing. A dangerous practice, as she was finding out. She sighed and crossed her arms. “Did Madison ever convey to you that she thought Trey might be stalking her?”

A quick wag of Amy’s head sent adrenaline skipping through Paige. “No, she never implied anything like that to me, and I told the detectives the same thing.” Picking up the shears, she pointed them at Paige. “Miss Becker, please understand, Trey was the one person Madison did trust.”

A mixture of sorrow and confusion flooded through Paige. Madison loved and trusted Trey but she’d walked away from their relationship. No wonder Trey was depressed.

But, if Madison didn’t think of Trey as a threat, had there been someone else she was afraid of?

Paige took a step even closer. “Amy, was there anyone you can think of that Madison had an issue with? Or maybe had an issue with her?”

“Really, Miss Becker, you should leave now.” Amy stopped clipping. She didn’t make eye contact. “I’ve told the detectives everything I—”

“Paige, what are you doing here?” The gruff male voice boomed from the back of the store, silencing Amy and sending Paige’s heart into spasms.

Paige jerked her gaze back to the doorway, freezing on Gentry Cramer’s face. His dark stare drilled her as he shoved his phone in his pocket and came nearer, not breaking his stride as he stalked around old pieces of furniture and display cases, chest puffed out, muscles flexed. A taller, stocky man she didn’t recognize followed him.

“Gentry, how are you?” Paige asked in a strained voice. The sick feeling in her gut just intensified. She hadn’t expected a warm reception—Gentry had never been overly friendly to her, even before his sister’s death—but his anger was even deeper than she’d suspected. But as he was fighting for justice for his sibling, she was also fighting for hers. Maybe he could understand that?

“Good morning, Gentry. Good morning, Eli.” Amy spoke up, a slight quiver in her voice. “Miss Becker just stopped in to see Mrs. Cramer. I told her your mother wasn’t here and she was just getting ready to leave.”

“My mother?” Gentry growled, his mouth hardening to a straight line. “She can barely get out of bed these days. The last thing she needs is to be confronted by the sister of her daughter’s killer.”

Paige’s heart nearly burst wide-open, just hearing the word killer. The one word she hated to be used in conjunction with her brother. What happened to innocent until proven guilty? That question burned deep in her mind, but instead of shouting it out, she breathed deep, willing herself to calm down. Now wasn’t the time to make that point. “Actually Gentry, I stopped by with hopes of speaking to some of Madison’s coworkers. I know how hard her death has been on your family, and I’m so sorry for your loss. It would never be my intention to upset your mother or anyone else, however—”

“Then get out.” Gentry’s voice snapped like a too-taut elastic band as he gestured sharply with one long-fingered hand toward the door.

His counterpart, Eli, took a step, plunking curled fists on his hips. “Miss Becker, you need to leave. Let me walk you out.”

“That’s not necessary,” Paige said, clutching her purse closer to her side. She spun on her heel and headed for the door. Heart thumping, she was shaking inside. Perplexed. This was crazy. She swallowed around tears clogging her throat. Both she and Gentry wanted the same thing—for Madison’s killer to be brought to justice. She couldn’t just walk away.

Frustration peaking and acting purely on adrenaline, she stopped short, wheeled around and turned her gaze back on Gentry.

The intensity in his expression as he glared back at her made it difficult for her to even breathe; still, she went on. “Gentry, if justice is what you’re seeking, please listen to what I have to say.” Paige tried to keep her voice from shaking. “I know there’s a mountain of alleged evidence stacked against Trey, but he never would have hurt Madison. I really believe her murderer is still out there. If you’ll just give me three minutes, I’ll explain.”

The scowl on Gentry’s face never wavered. Just that same contorted expression and narrow-eyed stare, like she was out of her mind. “You’ve overstayed your welcome, Paige.”

The sound of sirens pierced the air. Her heart stopped, then burst into a savage beat when she glanced behind her and out the window at the flashing red, blue and white lights of the deputy cruiser parked right outside.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse.

* * *

“What do you mean, Paige has been arrested?” Seth shot out of his chair, dropping his half-eaten sandwich on his desk.

“Deputy Hobbs brought her in about an hour ago,” Ted said, dogging Seth’s steps as he stalked out of his office and down the hallway that would take him outside the building.

“And what’s she been charged with?”

“Misdemeanor trespassing.”

Seth stopped short, one hand on the exit doors, and looked at Ted. “Trespassing? Where was she?”

“Cramer’s Antiques.”

He should have known.

Seth pushed through the exit and headed across the street to the jail.

Clouds had gathered overhead, and a light icy drizzle was falling. Seth took an inhale of cold, moist air, which did nothing to diffuse the heat building inside him as he wondered what kind of trouble Paige would get herself into next.

Inside the county jail, he took the elevator down one level to the basement, then entered a long, dark corridor that led to the magistrate’s office. Pushing through a second set of double wooden doors, he entered the courtroom. He allowed his gaze to cruise the front three rows of seats, about half-filled with suspects waiting for their preliminary hearing before the magistrate. Paige was right there among them.

As Seth took a seat in the back row, Paige was called to a podium to have her charges read—criminal trespassing in the second degree.

Deputy Ed Hobbs stood to the side and explained to the judge how Paige had unlawfully remained on the Cramer’s Antique and Gift Mart’s property after the owner, Gentry Cramer, made several reasonable requests for her to leave.