Page 89 of Under Fire

“That’s right. What if something happens to me?”

He blinked. Seconds later, he surged toward Delilah only to find himself sprawled on the couch.

“Stay there,” Matt warned.

Evan glared at Delilah. “You’re accusing me of killing Aunt Michelle.”

“Did you leave the restaurant and sneak into Mom’s hospital room ahead of us?”

“Of course not. You saw us. We were at the bar for a couple hours before we went to the restaurant. I have a receipt somewhere for my meal with a time stamp on it. Or you can check with Daisy, the waitress. She’ll know when I left the place. I gave her a big enough tip.” Another frown. “I don’t have to answer your questions. You’re not a cop.”

“Consider this practice for when the police question you.”

He cursed. “They got no reason to question me. I didn’t have nothing to do with Aunt Michelle’s death. And if you spread around town that I did, my lawyer will contact you.”

“The police took Randy in for questioning,” Matt said. “Expect them to talk to you and the rest of your family.”

“I already said I didn’t have nothing to do with it and I got witnesses who will vouch for me. Zach and Shane were with me.”

They were also drunk as skunks. Doubtful either would remember too many details about that night.

“I hear you’re a good shot with a rifle. What do you have?”

“A .308. What’s it to you?”

“A couple of your buddies shot up Baxter’s with a .308. Later that night, a shooter with a scope shot at Delilah with the same type of rifle.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Hope you have an alibi for the time of the shooting, Frost. I’m sure Detective Russell will talk to you soon.”

“You said you wanted to talk about money. So, talk.”

Delilah handed Evan the check. “Your five-year allotment, paid in full.”

Her cousin glanced at the check and tossed it on the coffee table. “Why?”

“You’re an adult. Use the money however you want.”

He snorted. “That’s a drop in the bucket compared to my expenses every year. What am I supposed to do for money now?”

“Find a job.”

“Get real. I don’t want to work for old man Dixon, but it’s the only job I’m qualified for. He cheats the customers.”

“Open your own place.” Delilah indicated the check he’d tossed aside. “There’s the capital to start. You’re a better mechanic than Dixon.”

He was silent a moment. “Is that how you started your shop?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did Aunt Michelle front you the startup capital?”

“No, she didn’t. I earned a business degree, worked long hours in candle shops, and worked second jobs while saving every penny I could spare to start my own business. Starting Wicks was the best decision I ever made besides losing weight.”

Evan’s gaze swept over her, his forehead furrowed. “Did you have surgery?”

Delilah shook her head. She’d explored that option. Ultimately, lack of money and fear of the surgery itself helped her decide against the procedure.

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