Page 98 of The Murder Club

“No, but we have a partial name. It shouldn’t be that hard to locate.”

“True. I’ll look.” Bailey pulled out her phone from her purse and typed in pawnshops in Green Bay. A second later she found it. “‘Drew’s Brew Trading Post,’” she read out loud. “‘Pawnshop and Microbrewery. All your shopping needs under one roof.’”

“Is it open today?”

Bailey checked the website. “At noon.”

Dom pressed on the accelerator as they reached the access road, picking up speed to veer onto the highway.

“Plug in the directions.” He nodded toward the GPS system on the sleek control panel that looked as if it belonged in a spaceship.

She blinked in surprise. “We’re going now?”

He turned his head to flash a smile that threatened to stop her heart. “Unless you have something you’d rather be doing?”

“I do,” she answered with blunt honesty, a warmth spreading through her body at the pleasure of returning to the bed she was sharing with Dom. Then, with a sigh of resignation, she settled back in the soft leather seat. “Unfortunately, we need to get to the pawnshop as soon as we can,” she reluctantly admitted. “I want to find the ring before someone buys it. That’s the only way we can prove what Logan and Eric were doing. Even if it doesn’t tell us anything about the murders, we can at least stop them from stealing from those poor old people.”

“It will also prove that Logan had a reason to kill Nellie,” Dom added.

Bailey grimaced, trying to imagine Lorene Donaldson’s reaction to discovering her son was a common thief. And just as bad, using nursing home funds to indulge his online girlfriend. She acted as if they were a step above the common folk in Pike. It would devastate her to have people gossiping about her precious son.

“I’m sure Logan would do anything to keep his mother from finding out what he was doing,” she said.

“Maybe she did find out.”

Bailey studied Dom’s profile. “Why would you think that?”

“You overheard her telling Logan that he was putting the nursing home at risk.”

“True.” Bailey settled back in the soft leather seat, considering what she’d overheard. There had been something Logan had done to put the home at risk, and something they didn’t want Bailey to discover. Vague implications that there was a secret they were hiding. Too vague. “But what did she find out?” She spoke the questions swirling through her mind out loud. “That Logan was using the nursing home credit card for personal pleasure? That he was stealing from the residents? Or that he killed Nellie and then Gage to get his hands on the inheritance?”

Dom was silent as they hurtled northward, the rolling hills and fenced pastures zooming past.

“Let’s say she knew it all,” he abruptly said. “That would explain why she was willing to kick you out after Gage’s accusations even though she knew you had nothing to do with Nellie’s change of will. She wanted you to look guilty.”

Bailey frowned, struggling to imagine Lorene Donaldson being involved in anything criminal. She was so . . . perfect. Like an ice queen. Was it possible she was willing to cover up Logan’s habit of stealing from residents? Or even murder?

Yes. The answer came without hesitation. Lorene Donaldson would do anything for her son. Including murder.

“They probably even goaded Gage into publicly accusing me of killing his mother to get my hands on the inheritance,” she muttered, a shiver racing through her. She’d never liked the Donaldsons, but she would never have suspected they might be cold-blooded killers.

“Gage was always an ass, but he acted as if he had some sort of evidence I was involved in his mother’s death.”

“You’re right. They wanted someone to take the blame if anyone questioned it.”

“And then they killed him.”

Dom’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “It’s just a theory, but right now the evidence points at Logan and his mother.”

“I agree.” Bailey tapped her fingers on her knees. The evidence did point toward the Donaldsons, but there was something nagging at the back of her mind. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. “I’m not sure how any of that connects to the person who’s been stalking me,” she finally muttered.

“It’s possible the stalker isn’t the killer,” Dom pointed out. “It might be someone who’s using the murders for their own amusement.”

Bailey’s stomach churned with unease. It was almost worse to think there was some sicko out there enjoying the slaughter of their neighbors, and maybe even their friends. When she was a member of the Murder Club the victims were strangers. And she only wanted to help find the truth of how they died. She didn’t take pleasure in the fact that they’d been tragically killed.

“What do they want from me?” The words burst out of her before she could halt them.

“To manipulate you. To watch you squirm.” Dom sent her a grim glance. “To make you afraid.”

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