Page 87 of End Game

“I’ll do the talking,” Ash said as he and Kayla approached Linda Collier’s front door.

“Okay.”

He looked at her for what seemed like the hundredth time since she’d stepped out of her car. On the drive here, he’d gone through a battery of emotions, not the least of which were frustration, fear, shame, and jealousy.

His nerves felt like a too-tight bowstring, ready to snap if handled without care. He’d expected Kayla to be walking the edge, too. Filled with righteous anger and eager to deliver more verbal lashes. Instead, she seemed hesitant, unable to look him in the eye. Beta to his alpha.

It was unnerving.

He took another shot at reviving the lobbyist. “You’re here to reassure Ms. Collier.”

She nodded.

“Not to play investigator.”

A muscle in her jaw twitched, restoring some of his equilibrium.

“Got it.”

He bounded up the two steps leading to Collier’s front porch and depressed the doorbell. Linda and her husband Gene lived in the quaint town of Black Mountain, situated due east of Asheville. Her two-story white wood-framed house sat in the midst of an eclectic mix of homes. Not a cookie cutter in sight. The neighborhood was within walking distance of a bustling tourist mecca as well as the town’s popular Tailgate Market, where local artisans and farmers hawked their wares.

A pretty brown-haired woman, heavy with child, opened the door. She wore a long-sleeved floral maxi dress, revealing bare feet and slightly swollen ankles. Her wary gaze snapped from him to Kayla, who stood to his right.

The woman’s eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. Either she had bad allergies—a good possibility in a region with millions of pine trees blooming at once—or she’d been crying. Also a distinct possibility, given she’d lost her mom.

“Kayla?”

“Hi, Linda,” she said, “Sorry to show up unannounced.” Kayla stepped forward and gave her friend a hug. “This is Special Agent Cameron Blackwell, with the FBI. He’d like to ask you some questions about Aunt Vicky.”

He held up his creds before shaking her hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

“I already spoke to APD and State, when they notified me about M-mom.” Her voice broke on the last word.

Kayla wrapped a comforting arm around the woman’s shoulders and guided her inside. “Come on. Let’s have a seat.”

The Colliers’ living area had an upscale farmhouse motif like something Joanna Gaines would design. Neutral tones with a pop of yellow here and there. A natural stone fireplace propped up a corner of the living room and one of the Colliers had a definite green thumb. A variety of plants, some he recognized, some new and bizarre, were stationed around the room, adding another level of warmth.

“Can I make you a cup of herbal tea?” Kayla asked the woman as she helped her get settled on a plush ivory sofa.

“No, thank you, but please make one for yourself and Mr. Blackwell.”

Kayla glanced at him, and Ash shook his head. She took up a spot on the sofa, and he sat on an adjacent chair.

“First,” Ash said, “allow me to extend my condolences on your loss. I’m aware of how difficult it is to lose a parent.”

“Thank you.” Linda looked at Kayla. “I’m sorry I haven’t returned your calls. I just needed some time to process things.”

“No worries. Do you need help making any of the arrangements?”

Linda’s features turned stony. “The State is taking care of everything. Even down to the flowers draping Mama’s coffin.” Her eyes welled. “Shouldn’t a daughter be able to do at least that much to honor her mother?”

Kayla shot him a confused look while she rubbed circles on the other woman’s back.

Based on what little he knew about Linda Collier, most of it from Kayla, he hadn’t expected the governor’s estranged daughter to be quite so grief-stricken. Evidently, Kayla hadn’t either.

Hate didn’t always negate love.

“Seems like a reasonable expectation,” Kayla said.

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