Page 25 of Cornered

Tate started to say something, but Cole’s appearance in the doorway stopped him.

Steph frowned. “What is it?”

With gloved hands, Cole held up a black ski mask and hoodie. “I don’t suppose these look familiar?”

TATE SLID AN ARMaround Steph’s shoulder when she swayed and gaped. “Are you kidding me?” she whispered.

Cole grimaced. “I wish I was. They were right there on the kitchen table.”

“Stan is the one who broke into my house? Tate’s? B-but why?”

A shudder rippled through her, and Tate tightened his grip. “Unfortunately, only Stan can answer that.”

She looked around, a slightly dazed expression on her face. “Then he’s the one who stole Brenda’s journal. It’s got to be here somewhere.”

“Assuming he didn’t pass it off to someone,” Tate said.

Cole nodded. “We’ll turn this place upside down looking for it as soon as the crime scene unit is finished—which will be a while because now we’re looking for anything that can give us a connection between him and Brenda that may not be work related.” He paused. “At the very least, we need to finish deciphering the notes. It may tell us what made him so desperate to get his hands on it.”

“I have a headache,” she said.

Tate shot her a sympathetic smile. “Explain the key to us, and we have people who can finish decoding it. Fast.”

She nodded. “All right.”

Once they’d given their statement, Tate called to let Lainie know that Stan was being brought in and he and Cole needed to talk to him as soon as he was awake. And coherent. In the meantime, they’d be heading back to Bolin’s for another visit first thing in the morning.

Steph pursed her lips and frowned. “I’m just confused. What was his connection to Bolin’s? Other than the fact that they were one of Brenda’s clients? Stan liked the outdoors, but he wasn’t an outdoorsman. He’d never ride the rapids or do zip-lining or anything else Bolin’s offers. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense,” Cole said. “We’ll figure it out when he wakes up.”

“If he wakes up,” she said. “What if he doesn’t?”

Tate sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe the crime scene unit willturn up something here at the house. In the meantime, we need to get out of the way.” Officers were doing as promised and tearing up the place, bagging evidence, and would let them know if the notebook appeared.

Steph continued to frown, then shook her head. “I just can’t believe Stan would break into my house. And yours, Tate.”

“What? You think someone is framing him by leaving the clothes?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just would have thought I’d have recognized his voice or the way he walked or even just the shape of his body.Something.”

Tate honestly didn’t know what to think. He sighed. “You were scared. It’s possible it just didn’t register.”

“I guess that’s possible.” Her furrowed brow said she was still thinking about it. “But suppose someone else is involved and is throwing the blame on Stan. Where does that leave me? Am I safe? Or does the person still want to come after me? And why?”

Tate rubbed his chin. “Good questions. Whoever was in our houses wanted Brenda’s little pink notebook. And got it. If this was an attack on Stan and not a fall or an accident, then it’s possible the person knew Stan had the notebook, attacked him, and got what he was after, assuming officers don’t find it here.” He looked around. “And so far, they haven’t. I’m guessing Stan knew something and the person who attacked him—if it was an attack—wanted to shut him up. In that case, I’d think you’re in the clear and safe.”

“Right.”

“We’ll see what the lab says about the clothing. If they can pull some DNA off of it, then we’ll have something to work with.”

She nodded.

“I’m going to have a chat with Matt over there,” Cole said.“I need to tell him to be looking for the journal.” He nodded to Tate. “I’ll meet you at the car in just a few.”

Cole walked off, and Tate led Steph back to her vehicle. She swiped a tear from her cheek, and he laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asked.

A sigh slipped from her. “I’m in shock right now. And I may have been betrayed by a person who I thought was not just my boss but my friend as well. I’ve had lunch with his wife, they’ve given me Christmas and birthday gifts, and so on. I’m just ... angry too.” She ran a hand over her hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that on you. I normally vent to my girlfriends, but they’re not here, so you’re the lucky recipient.”

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