Page 16 of Silverstorm

“I’m sorry to have to inform you that your father was found dead this morning at his property on Manning Road.”

“What?” Aria’s eyes clouded, as if she hadn’t quite understood what he’d said. “My father? Dead? That’s impossible. He’s so…” She shook her head. “I saw him just a few days ago, he was fine.”

“Well, I can assure you he’s not fine anymore, Miss Cusack. He’s definitely dead. It probably happened around four days ago.” Brady trained his beady eyes on Aria, searching for her response.

Jude wanted to stand up and punch the detective right in the face. What was with this guy? He seemed to have no compassion whatsoever.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, honey.” Naomi reached over and covered Aria’s hands with her own. She glanced at her boss, but it was as if she didn’t really see her.

“How did he die?” All the color had drained from Aria’s face.

Jude hesitated for a second, but she deserved to know. And if he didn’t tell her, then Brady would probably take great glee in dispensing the information. “We think he was murdered.”

“Oh, no.” Aria removed her hands from Naomi’s and covered her mouth, hunching her shoulders as if folding in on herself. “That’s terrible.” She stared up at him with a pained expression, eyes remaining dry, but the lines around her mouth were pinched and deeply etched. He hadn’t really expected tears from Aria over her father. But the anguish was clear in her face. Even though she might not have liked her father very much, she plainly never wanted him dead.

“Yes, it’s terrible, and that’s why we need to ask you some questions. Maybe you can help us capture the murderer.” Brady was still standing, looking down at the trio huddled around the coffee table, but then he pulled the chair around from behind the desk and sat, looking intently into Aria’s face. Couldn’t the man see how distressed she was? He was a homicide detective, surely he should be good at gauging when a person was genuinely upset. But it seemed not, because Brady went on to say, “Tell me about the last time you saw your father. Alive,” he added, then leaned in closer, as if Aria might actually be about to admit to being the killer.

Jude was so disgusted with the other man’s blatant disregard for any sort of compassion that he stood and glared down at Brady. “This woman has just received distressing news. I think your questions can wait until later.”

“I agree,” Naomi chipped in. “You need to give her time to process this. Jude, I think you should take her home, back to your place. She can answer your questions tomorrow morning. Don’t you agree?”

Jude was about to say he thought that was a good idea when Brady interrupted.

“Wait, are you telling me she lives with you, Deputy Wilder?” Brady’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he fixed Jude with an accusing stare. “Why didn’t you reveal this information beforehand?”

“Because it’s not pertinent to the case.” And you didn’t ask, but Jude kept that thought to himself. “She’s renting a little cottage in my backyard. She needed a place to stay, and I had the room to spare, that’s all.”

“Really.” Innuendo dripped from the detective’s words as he sent an assessing gaze flicking over Aria, who was still hunched in the chair. “This sheds a different light on things. Perhaps you shouldn’t be part of this investigation anymore, Deputy Wilder.”

“I beg your pardon,” Jude said, his voice suddenly low and husky. He stood up to his full height, and Brady backed the chair away so he could also stand. “I don’t like what you’re implying. There’s nothing going on between me and Aria Cusack. I want you to note that on record. I’m merely helping out an old friend from school. You don’t get a say in whether I work this case, anyway, it’s up to the sheriff.”

“We’ll see about that.” The two men stood staring at each other like two alpha dogs, sizing each other up for a fight.

“Excuse me.” Naomi inserted herself between them. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but my main concern is Aria’s mental well-being.” Even standing on tiptoe, Naomi only came halfway up Brady’s chest. “So you can just get out of my office.” She stared at Brady and then pointed to the door. “And do your questioning elsewhere.”

Jude wondered if Naomi hadn’t gone a step too far, ordering a detective around like he couldn’t just arrest her on the spot for obstructing an investigation. And thinking about arrests, Jude hoped that Brady didn’t get it into his head to take Aria into custody, either. He was within his rights, according to the book. But most police officers knew that ethically and morally it was unhealthy and unwise to bully someone who’d just been informed of their father’s death, even if they were a potential suspect.

The man’s gray eyes glinted like they were made of steel, and Jude almost held his breath.

“I’ll expect you at the sheriff’s office at nine am sharp tomorrow morning.” Brady stepped around Naomi and Jude and walked out of the office without even one backward glance, shutting the door loudly behind him.

“What a nasty piece of work,” Naomi said, even as the door closed. “I’m so sorry, honey.” She got down on her haunches next to Aria and placed an arm around her thin shoulders. “This must be a terrible shock.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Jude said softly, holding out his hand.

Half an hour later, Aria was propped up in bed in her little cottage. He’d made her a mug of hot tea, but it sat untouched on the bedside table. After they got home, Aria had complained of feeling cold, and when he took her hands in his to try and warm them, they were like blocks of ice, so he’d decided bed was the best place for her. She was probably suffering shock, and she really wasn’t wearing the right clothes for this weather. Her thin sweater and battered denim jacket did nothing to keep out the bitter wind. Maybe she’d forgotten how cold fall got here in the Bitterroot Mountains. He’d taken off her shoes, like she was a child and he was the parent while she sat on the end of the bed. It was like she was in a sort of trance, which again could be the shock.

They’d hardly spoken on the drive back into town. At one stage, Aria had asked if he was really, really sure that Tango had indeed been murdered.

“Yes. I saw the body myself,” he’d replied. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

She didn’t ask for details, for which he was grateful, just took his word for it, but then she asked, “Do you have any leads on who did this?”

“No,” he replied simply, and silence had fallen over them again. There were a million questions burning brightly in his mind, but he knew better than to ask them. Unlike that prick, Brady. He wondered if she was thinking the same as him? If she was remembering her father’s crazy claims that someone was after him. He tried to think back to when Tango’s paranoia had first become evident. It was hard to recall what Tango had been like back when Jude had been a teenager. There were rumors, even back then, about Tango’s weird notions, but Jude didn’t think he was openly spouting his theories to the sheriff at that stage, and everyone tended to ignore him. So when had his delusions become worse? When had they become so bad he’d began asking the sheriff for help?

Jude had interviewed Tango six months ago, when he’d come in with fresh accusations that someone was out to kill him. That was when Jude had first heard about the cult InXium. But before that, the sheriff had handled things. Tango had probably been spouting his delusions for many years. But that was well after Aria had left town. So how much did she know?

She was huddled into the passenger seat, looking frail and alone as he ground the gears of her Subaru, unused to driving a stick shift. Her bright, bubbly smile was nowhere to be seen. People had turned to watch as he led her down the stairs from the Stargazer lodge to her car, and he’d wanted to tell them all to mind their own business, to shield her with his body from their scrutiny and their judgement.

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