Page 47 of Crossroads of Betrayal
“Care if I step in?”
Zeke took a step back to allow the officer more room. “What can I do for you?”
“You mean what canwedo for you,” Grace said as she hobbled over to his side and linked her hand with his.
Working his jaw back and forth, Lincoln dipped his chin at Grace. “It’s good you’re here because you’ll both want to know—we just found Shelly Tinder. She’s dead.”
* * *
The newsof another dead guest tightened Grace’s grip of Zeke’s hand. Her stomach churned and mind raced a mile a minute, a dizzying combination after being jolted from the warm bed where her world had finally been righted. “Oh, my God. What happened?”
“Shot. Bullet in the back of the head.”
Her knees shook. Bile flooded her mouth, but she forced it back down her throat. “What kind of gun was used?”
Unflinching, Lincoln met her stare head on. “Same as the one taken from the shooting range. Casings found were identical to the ones taken from the box of bullets that spilled on the floor. A number of those bullets were missing. Now we know without any doubt where they went.”
She swayed to the side, her free hand clutching at Zeke to steady her.
Zeke wrapped an arm around the small of her back. “Let’s get you off your feet. There’s no reason to stand in front of the open door, letting the rain splash inside, having this conversation.”
Leaning against him, she let him guide her to the couch. As she sat, he found a pillow to place under her foot. Warmth spread from the center of her chest to the rest of her body. Even in the middle of a storm, he focused on her. On making her comfortable and seeing to her needs.
Lincoln closed the door and rounded the furniture to stand in front of the fire. Water dripped from his shaggy hair. Concern burned brighter in his cobalt irises than in the flames at his back.
Grace squeezed her eyes closed and tried to regain her bearings before focusing on Lincoln.
“Where was she found?” Zeke asked as he sat beside her.
A vein at Lincoln’s temple ticked. “Not sure I should tell you that information.”
“Oh, cut the crap,” Grace snapped. “I’ll call Brooke and ask her, and we both know she’ll tell me. There’s no reason not to share the location of the body.”
Lincoln hardened his stare on Zeke. “There is if something else was found at the crime scene.”
“What?” Zeke snapped.
Lincoln pulled a small evidence bag from the front pocket of his pants and extended it forward. “Does this look familiar?”
Leaning forward, Zeke snatched the evidence then settled back on the cushion. Keeping the bag sealed, he held it close to his face and squinted at the object inside. “Where the hell did you get this?”
“I told you,” Lincoln said. “At the crime scene.”
Curiosity edged her closer to Zeke. She peered over his shoulder but couldn’t make out what was inside the plastic bag clutched in his fist. “What is it?”
Zeke shifted to face her. Hesitation skittered across his face and made her uneasy. He blew out a long breath then laid the bagged evidence flat on his palm. “My wedding ring.”
A fist of confusion and shock squeezed her heart. “Your what?”
Sighing, Zeke pinched the bridge of his nose. “My ring. I put it in my backpack.”
Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing. “Why?”
He dropped his head, as if unable to look at her. “It’s the only thing I have left of you. The only thing that made me feel as though a piece of you was still with me. I don’t wear it, haven’t in sometime, but the idea of being away from the ring—of it being beyond my reach…” he shrugged. “It was just too much to handle. As if saying goodbye to that symbol of our love and commitment meant saying goodbye to you forever.”
Hating the vulnerability and uncertainty shining through on his face, she rested a hand on his thigh. So many assurances flitted to mind, but none of them were acceptable to proclaim in front of Lincoln. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Really?”
