Page 10 of Cornered

His mind flew back to the incident that started it all. Did he want to get into that? He looked at her. She was waiting, expectant. Listening. “When I was fifteen, my best friend’s father was killed in a grocery store holdup. The killer had just been released because of a technicality that very day.” Tate rubbed his chin, wishing he could rub away the memories. “I saw what that did to my buddy and his family. It made me want to be the kind of cop who didn’t make mistakes. The kind who got it right the first time so that no sharky lawyer could get someone off and put them back on the street to kill again.”

“I’m so sorry, Tate. That’s awful.”

He blinked the past away and took another bite. “It was, but my buddy became a cop too and just testified at the killer’s parole hearing, keeping him behind bars for another few years.”

“Good for him,” she said, her voice soft, eyes wide and focused solely on him, drawing him in, making him want—

No, that wasn’t the plan. No romantic entanglements until he was settled.

You’re pretty settled, Detective Cooper. You’ve reached your goal. You can—

He shut off the little voice in his head and cleared his throat. “Anyway, that’s why I do what I do. Each time I catch a bad guy—and make sure I do it right—I think about the fact that maybe, just maybe, I kept someone else’s family from going through what my friend’s did.”

“Very admirable.”

“Thanks. Enough about me. Tell me what made you delve into the world of numbers.”

She laughed and he was grateful she let him change the subject. “I was always good at math,” she said. “I like things that make sense, and numbers make sense to me. When I found I could make a living helping businesses balance their books, it was a no-brainer. I love my job.” She sighed. “And Brenda loved hers, but something was definitely going on.I don’t know what, but I think it’s highly possible it’s connected to someone running her off the road.” She pulled a small pink notebook from her purse and handed it to him. “You missed this. It was taped to the side of the drawer at one point. All of the opening and closing must have loosened it. I went through her desk, looking to see if you left anything. You didn’t. Anyway, when I opened and closed the top drawer, this was dislodged. I found it because the drawer wouldn’t shut properly.”

He frowned and opened it to the first page. “This looks like a bunch of random stuff.” He looked up. “Code?”

“That’s what I think.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know. If I had time, I might be able to figure out the key.” She shook her head. “It’s weird that she would feel the need to do this. She’s not into conspiracy theories or anything.”

“But she obviously came across something she didn’t want anyone else seeing—or if they did see it—she didn’t want them understanding it.” He pressed his lips together. “All right, well, I already have a list of her clients, so we don’t have to ask for them. Maybe if we go through this and the client names, we’ll see something that matches?”

“Maybe. I have her clients too. We all have a list of each other’s clients in case we have to handle something while someone is on vacation or ... in case of an emergency.”

She pressed her lips together for a moment and he placed a hand on her shoulder while she fought the emotion. “It’s okay to cry and grieve,” he said.

“I know. But not now. Crying won’t find who killed her, and that’s what I want to do more than anything at the moment.” She glanced at him. “Have you talked to her husband, Greg?”

“We spoke with him briefly when we told him of her death,but he was in no shape for questioning. We’re supposed to go back in the morning for a more in-depth interview.”

“Could I be there?”

“You’re friends with Greg?”

“I am. I often babysit—sat—for him and Brenda when they wanted a date night.” She offered him a sad smile. “Yes, I’m that single friend all married couples with children want.” Tears appeared and she blinked them away. “But I didn’t mind. Her children are precious, and I love them dearly. Greg is a wonderful man and husband. He’ll miss Brenda terribly.” She looked away and sniffed. “We all will.” Then she straightened her shoulders and her eyes steeled. “Which means we must find the person responsible and get justice for her and her family.”

“Yes,” he said. “But notwe. Me. And Cole.”

She sighed. “I know you need to take this with you, but what do you say we spend a little while trying to decipher it?”

Her desire to help him get justice for her friend warmed him, and he nodded. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Maybe it wasweafter all. At least for the next little while.

FIVE

WHEN TATE LEFT,Steph shut the door behind him and pursed her lips. They’d worked on the code for the better part of two hours without a breakthrough, and now she was frustrated and tired. And grieving hard for her friend. She had other friends, of course. And family. All of whom had texted and called over the course of the day.

Lainie Jackson, soon to be Lainie Cross and Steph’s sister-in-law when she walked down the aisle with James, had called twice while Tate was there, and Steph had let it roll to voicemail. She dialed her friend’s number.

“Steph, are you all right?”

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