Page 14 of The Murder Club

Reaching the end of the block, Bailey cut across the yard and onto the porch of a house that was larger than the others. It was also in better condition than the rest of the block. The gabled roof had been replaced recently and a fresh coat of light blue paint with dark blue shutters added a splash of color that gave the aging home a unique charm.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a heavy keyring, fumbling to find the right key before she shoved open the door. Together they stepped into the square living room, which was painted a pale silver with a dark gray carpet. There was a wooden shelf along one wall that was loaded with books and dozens of family pictures scattered on the low coffee tables and the back of an upright piano. It should have felt cramped, but instead it was . . . homey. Dom nodded. That was the word.

A long-forgotten memory of watching his mother setting out their few belongings in the latest hovel they were staying in flashed through his mind. No matter how ratty or uncomfortable the place might be, his mother always found a way to make it feel like home.

“This is nice,” he murmured.

She glanced around, her expression softening with pleasure. “It’s not fancy.”

“I’d rather have comfort than fancy any day,” he assured her, cautiously cupping her elbow in his hand to direct her toward the couch. “Sit down. I’ll get you something to drink.”

Clearly shaken by her encounter with Gage, Bailey collapsed onto the soft cushions, wrapping her sweater tightly around her body. As if trying to protect herself from unseen enemies. Dom clenched his teeth, belatedly wishing he’d done more than just running off the spineless bully. He wasn’t usually a violent man, but seeing the shattered expression on Bailey’s face was stirring primitive emotions he didn’t even know he possessed.

Moving across the room, he stepped through the arched opening into the kitchen. The cabinets looked original to the house, with worn countertops, but the appliances were new and the floors were freshly tiled. Bailey appeared to be dragging the old house into the current century. Not an easy task.

Finding a kettle on the stove, he quickly heated the water while he prepared a mug with the tea he found in a copper cannister. Once it was ready, he dumped in several teaspoons of sugar. He returned to the living room, finding Bailey still huddled on the couch, her face so pale she looked like one of the Dresden dolls his sisters loved.

“Tea,” he murmured as he stopped next to the arm of the couch.

She reached up with hands that trembled. “Thanks.” She bent her head to take a sip and promptly coughed. “Good Lord. How much sugar did you put in?”

“You’re in shock,” he told her. “I think sugar is supposed to help.”

She blinked. “Where did you hear that?”

“On the Internet.” He offered a rueful grin. “Where all the best medical advice comes from.”

Before she could give her opinion of his medical resources, there was a sharp knock on the door.

Bailey sucked in a sharp breath, her expression stricken. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

“I’ll get rid of them.”

Dom was moving before she finished speaking. He didn’t think Gage Warren had the balls to continue his harassment, but the lust for money could make men do crazy things. Halting at the front window, he took the precaution of checking out the unwanted visitor. If Gage was stupid enough to come to the house, he was stupid enough to bring a gun.

It wasn’t Gage. Surprisingly, Dom recognized the slender man dressed in a brown uniform with a sheriff’s badge on his shirt.

“It’s Zac,” he told Bailey.

“I . . .” She set aside her tea, her expression tense. Almost as if she didn’t want to see the man who was not only sheriff of Pike but her cousin. “Let him in,” she at last muttered.

Dom pulled open the door and moved back to allow Zac to step over the threshold. He was several inches shorter than Dom and lean rather than muscular, but there was no mistaking the air of authority he carried with him. It wasn’t the uniform. Or the weapon holstered at his side. It was a part of him.

“Hey, Bailey,” he said, pulling off his hat to reveal dark blond hair that was cut short. His piercing green gaze rested on Bailey’s hunched form before moving back to Dom with a lift of his brows. “Dom. I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I got in yesterday.”

Zac nodded, then, crossing the room, he perched on the couch next to his cousin. Dom remained near the door. It gave him a perfect view of Bailey’s expression.

“How are you, Bailey?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve been better.”

“I get that.” Zac reached out to squeeze her hand. “I suppose you know why I’m here.”

“Gage Warren thinks I tricked his mother into giving me twenty thousand dollars in her will and then killed her to get my greedy hands on the money.”

She was still hurt, he could see it in her soft brown eyes, but there was a hint of defiance as she spit out the words. Dom was relieved. He hated seeing her look so crushed. But at the same time, unease snaked down his spine.

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