Page 101 of Mistletoe and Malice
Turning back, they waited for Shane’s dad to continue.
“Warren is his middle name. First name is Jacob. In case that might help you locate him.”
John nodded. “We’ll make a note of it. Thank you again.”
At the car, Colton met his friend’s gaze over the roof of the vehicle. “He’s our guy.”
“Best thing we have going at the moment.”
“Now we just have to prove it.”
And find a man who could make himself unrecognizable.
Chapter Forty-Two
Riley groaned through a stretch before she’d even opened her eyes, wincing at the persistent ache in her hip. Two days since Monday’s procedure, but hopefully today would be better, and she could get some work done.
With a grunt, she raised herself on her elbows and gradually upright to sit with her legs dangling over the side of the bed. Yes, definitely better today. Yesterday, it had taken her another five minutes to get to this point.
Her phone notified her of an incoming text, and she picked it up from the nightstand.
John:
Morning, Riley. hope ur feeling better. good time for a call?
Sure thing.
Instead of trying to get out of bed and talk at the same time, she stacked her pillows against the headboard and scooted back against them, grimacing as pain shot through her hip and lower back. She pulled her covers up to her lap before her cell phone rang.
“Good morn—” She cleared her throat of the morning raspiness. “Sorry. Good morning, Detective.”
“Uh oh. Did I wake you up?”
A glance at her clock told her it was nearly half past ten. “No, I was awake. Lying here thinking about everything I’m getting behind on, especially with Christmas a week away.”
“Take the time to rest. Don’t push too hard.”
“I’ll try. So, what’s up?”
“I didn’t want to bother you yesterday, but I thought you’d like to know where we are with the case.”
“I absolutely would.”
“We met with Shane’s parents on Monday. Very interesting visit.”
She listened to the highlights of their conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Everett, her pulse rate increasing by the minute. “Warren has to be the guy. Way too many coincidences.”
“Exactly what we thought. Worked at the country club at the time Cait had been a regular there. Serious issues with his biological father raising, and favoring, a son who wasn’t his by birth. A son who apparently excelled at everything he did. Warren’s also a long-time volunteer with a community theater where he does everything from graphic art to makeup and costumes. And previously employed at the hotel where the country club Christmas ball was held.”
“And he was fired from the country club?”
“The dad didn’t know if he was fired or left, but said it was about four years ago. Had a problem sticking with a job. Always felt he was entitled to more than he got.”
“But no idea right now where he is?”
“None. Ran him in the system, but he’s no longer at the address on his current driver’s license, and there’s no forwarding. We went by the theater yesterday and talked to the manager. He knows Everett but said he’s not working on their current production. Last he knew, Warren was employed at an assisted living center somewhere but couldn’t tell us where.”
“Wait.” She stared at the painting on the wall in front of her, shuffling through the information in her head. Something about … assisted living center … “The car.”
