Page 36 of Flynn

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Gabe said. “I feel bad that using my name to rent the place didn’t protect you.”

“It’s not your fault; in fact, that’s why I’m calling. I need a list of all Peabody Lake property owners. I know you ran one a while back for Grayson, but I could use an updated listing.”

“That’s easy enough,” Gabe said. “Do you want me to email it to you?”

“Yes. Taylor was smart enough to grab one of the laptops as we ran out of there.” He flashed her a smile. “Rhy’s on his way with clothes and other necessities for us.”

“I’ll send it over as soon as I have it,” Gabe promised. “And really, Flynn, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“We’ve been blessed,” he said lightly. “Oh, and Rhy will be getting another set of phones for us, so keep answering calls from unknown numbers.”

Gabe chuckled. “Considering what’s been happening over the past few years, I always do.”

“I’ll be in touch.” He lowered the handset into the cradle. “We’ll look at the property list together once Gabe has it,” he said to Taylor. “I’ll want to know if you recognize any of the names.”

“Happy to help.” She frowned, then added, “I keep thinking about that picture of Lyle and Jake Paulson. We never did figure out the address of that house.”

“Not yet, but when we get the list from Gabe, we’ll run a search. I’m sure we’ll be able to narrow it down.” The idea of gaining key information after their recent colossal failure was encouraging. That and knowing that he was never alone when it came to Taylor’s safety provided an acute sense of relief. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“I know.” She reached out to take his hand, but the quilt slid down causing her to quickly grab it. “I never realized how vulnerable it feels to be without clothes.”

“No lie.” He still had trouble realizing they’d escaped the lake house with just blankets for cover. “This is a first for me too.”

A hint of awareness shimmered between them. It had nothing to do with wearing blankets instead of clothes, but that they’d barely survived hypothermia.

Remembering his need to stay focused, he abruptly shot to his feet. Hitching the blanket up, he crossed to the computer. Maybe he could do some searches of his own until Rhy arrived.

Taylor came over to sit beside him. He turned on the computer and was in the process of logging into his email provider when the motel landline phone rang. He almost tripped over the end of the blanket in his haste to answer. “Hello?”

“Flynn, it’s Rhy. I’ll be there in ten minutes or less.”

“Okay, we’re currently sitting in room 11.” He peered through the opening between the curtains covering the window overlooking the parking lot. “We’ll watch for you.”

“Great. I have some news from Detective Klem,” Rhy said, his tone somber.

His gut clenched. Now what? He tried not to show his dismay. “Anything useful about the case?”

“Not exactly. He and Iverson went to the apartment shared by Lyle and Jake Paulson. They didn’t find either man or evidence that they were harmed, but the place was trashed. Like completely searched as if someone was looking for something important.”

Flynn sank back down onto the edge of the bed. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Rhy said. “But it adds a new dimension to the case.”

That was putting it mildly. A professional hit man murders three people, Steve and Robin Miller and Taylor’s cousin Roman Paulson. Now suddenly the killer is searching for something in Lyle and Jake’s apartment?

It didn’t make any sense. The new puzzle piece didn’t fit at all. And he feared they’d never learn the truth in time to prevent another attack against Taylor.

ChapterNine

Clutching the edges of the quilt close, Taylor eyed Flynn’s grim expression. Whatever news he’d been given wasn’t good.

Another murder? She prayed that wasn’t the case.

“See you soon.” Flynn dropped the receiver in the cradle, then raked a hand through his hair, making the ends stick up as they had yet to shower after their swim in Peabody Lake. “Rhy will be here in about ten minutes.”

“What happened?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she narrowed her gaze. “Don’t keep me in the dark, Flynn. I’m in danger, and I want to know what’s going on.”

He sighed, then nodded. “The Brookland detectives went to the apartment shared by your cousins Lyle and Jake Paulson. There’s no sign of them or blood indicating they’ve been hurt,” he swiftly added. “But the place has been trashed. Like searching for something and getting angry when you didn’t find it trashed.”

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