I spent the rest of the afternoon discreetly chasing down information on Pete. And came up with nada.
Tanner stopped by my cubicle and tossed the newspaper on my desk. “Check it out. Pete Hoffemeier’s got an Open House tonight down at your end of town.”
“And what? You think if I waltz in showing an interest in the property, he’ll admit to stealing his mother’s painting?”
“Nope, but I’m sure you could think of some way to weasel information out of him.”
“Aren’t you worried he might try to hurt me? I mean, I’m assuming you think he planted the GPS tracker in my purse.”
Tanner’s jaw muscle flexed. He clearly didn’t like the odds that both Pete and Dmitri’s guys were following me. “I’ll sit in a car outside and keep watch.”
“Okay, yes, this could work. Let me make a call.”
Tanner nodded. “Let me know when you want to leave.”
I rang up Zoe. Because as much as Saturday’s shooting had freaked her out, she was a security officer by trade. She knew how to take care of herself. And the fact she was my best friend and getting married in a few months was the perfect excuse for me to be house shopping with her.
She picked up on the third ring. “What’s up?”
“How would you like to go house shopping with me tonight?”
“You’re thinking of buying a house?”
“No, you are. And I’ve found a perfect one for you to see.”
“You have? You who breaks out in hives at the mere thought of shopping?”
“Okay, okay, the real estate agent might be a suspect, and I might need the cover of a soon-to-be-married friend who’s looking for a house.”
“Uh-huh. And have you locked up your stalker—attacker, bad guy, dude—yet?”
“No, but Tanner’s going to act as lookout.”
“I’m afraid I’m busy tonight.”
“With Jax? Because he could come too.”
“No, with the will to live.”
“Ha, the engagement’s made you soft,” I goaded.
“No, the desire to see my wedding day has.”
The memory of her blanched face after Saturday’s shooting pinged my conscience. Maybe it had been too much to ask.
“Why don’t you ask your Aunt Martha?” she suggested. “She’s always up for an adventure.”
“Hmm, yeah, maybe.” I blew out a breath. Aunt Martha would agree in a heartbeat, but I hated to involve her, potentially put her in danger. Right, like I’d had qualms about putting Zoe in danger. At least it was conceivable Aunt Martha would be interested in house shopping again. My parents’ place had to feel tiny at times. I dialed her cell number before I lost my nerve.
Aunt Martha answered on the third ring. “What can I do for you?”
“Want to go house shopping with me? It’s a cover,” I added, before she could fret that I was leaving the apartment and . . . Nate.
“I’d love to. What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Three hours later, I pulled up outside my parents’ nondescript two-story, and Aunt Martha emerged looking as if she was dressed for the Kentucky Derby in her wide-brimmed, brightly decorated hat and polka-dot dress. “How do I look?” she asked, slipping into the passenger seat.
“Like a woman with money to spend.” I grinned.
“Good, that’s what I was going for.”
As I pulled away from the curb with Tanner following at a discreet distance, a call came in from Zoe.
“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll go house shopping with you.”
“That’s okay. I’ve already picked up Aunt Martha.”
“All the more reason I should join you too.” Her voice hiccupped.
“Zoe? Is something wrong?”
She sniffled. “Jax and I had a fight.”
“About what?”
“Doesn’t matter. I just need to get out. Can you come pick me up?”
“Sure thing. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I texted Tanner the details of the temporary detour. As I pulled up to Zoe’s house eight minutes later, Billy came striding out at Zoe’s side, dressed in camo.
I jumped out of the car. “Whoa. Is Billy coming too?”
“I’m the bodyguard,” he said.
I hitched my thumb to Tanner idling at the end of the block. “We’re covered.”
Zoe caught his hand and dragged him into the backseat. “This way, we’ll be doubly covered.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, and I didn’t feel like arguing.
“Okeydokey. The more the merrier. But”—I held an empty chicken bucket toward them—“everyone’s phone goes in here and stays in the car. My plan won’t work otherwise.”
Aunt Martha oohed. “Isn’t this fun?”
I caught Billy’s eye roll in my rearview mirror as he tossed his smartphone into the bucket.
Zoe clutched her phone a little too maniacally. “What if Jax calls?”
“Then you make the dear boy sweat by not answering,” Aunt Martha said. “Trust me, he’ll come around to your way of thinking soon enough.”
Zoe’s shoulders relaxed. “You think so?”
“Absolutely,” Aunt Martha said as if she had infinite experience with men, despite being a happily unmarried woman.
Billy plucked the phone from Zoe’s fingers and plunked it in the bucket. “She’s right. Make him sweat.”
A few minutes later, we parked in front of a rambling two-story in Clayton. It had a mix of stucco and stone finishes and a gorgeous gabled roofline.“Follow my lead,” I said. As I climbed out of the car, Tanner rolled to a stop in front of a house several yards down the block.
Pete greeted us at the door, appearing thrilled and not the least bit suspicious that I’d brought people to check out the place. We wandered through, listening to his spiel, supplying appropriate oohs and aahs, which were totally real considering the place had an open floor plan with Italian porcelain tile flooring flowing through the foyer, entry hall, and the gourmet kitchen that was a chef’s dream, with state-of-the-art appliances and granite countertops and eat-in seating. The separate formal dining room opened into a large living room with a fireplace and a study that adjoined an exquisite sunroom. And that was only the main floor! After we returned from viewing the upstairs bedrooms, den, and two and a half more bathrooms, I stopped outside the kitchen and pretended to fuss with my phone. “Figures. The battery’s dead.”
“Here, use mine,” Aunt Martha piped up, and like a born actress she reached into her pocket and came up empty, then frantically checked her other pockets. “Oh dear, I must’ve left it behind.”
Zoe disappeared into the washroom before I could put her on the spot.
I looked to Billy, who raised his hands. “Don’t look at me. I dropped mine in my coffee yesterday. It’s on the fritz.”
A tinge of guilt niggled me at prodding them to lie to play their parts, but wow, were they ever good at hamming it up.
“Go ahead and use the house phone,” Pete suggested. “As long as it’s not a long-distance call.”
“Actually, I need to look something up online. Could I borrow your phone for a minute?”
Pete searched my gaze, almost as if he suspected my ulterior motive. Finding an image of the Dali or any of the other missing paintings on his phone or a record of a call to Capone’s apartment could wrap the case into a nice bow . . . if I had enough evidence for a warrant. This way, at least, I could see if I was on the right track.
“Please,” I prompted.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed a few buttons, presumably to unlock it, then handed it over.
Aunt Martha caught his attention and directed it toward the kitchen cupboards.
Thank you, Aunt Martha! I pulled up the icons and clicked on the photos app. The file was empty. I immediately clicked out and checked the call history. Also empty. Pete must’ve guessed my plan and deleted everything with all that button pushing.
I went online and did a search on flooring options so if he bothered to check my history, at least he’d find I did look something up—something pertinent to the house. Gritting my teeth, I clicked through to a couple of related articles, then exited and handed back the phone. “Thanks so much. So what do you think, Zoe? Does it look like a possibility?”
“I’m not sure. It’s quite a bit over the budget.”
Pete nodded. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. The house has been getting a lot of interest, so I don’t think it’ll sell for much less than the asking price.”
Zoe sighed and flounced toward the door. “Oh well, thank you for your time.”
Pete caught me by the arm as the others headed out the door. “I wanted to thank you for not arresting Lucas.”
“Thank Detective Briggs. I assume you’re the one who alerted him?”
Pete shrugged.
“My grandmother won’t be happy about me dropping your mother’s case.”
“Why would you?”
I exaggeratedly arched an eyebrow.
“You still think Lucas stole the painting?”
Billy rushed back through the door, looking ready to rip Pete limb from limb if warranted. “Everything okay?” he asked, as if I’d been forcibly held up for more than a mere minute or two.
“Yeah, I was just coming.”
As I stepped outside, I glimpsed Tanner halt his sprint toward the yard and dart behind a hedge. I smiled. Nice to know people worry about me. I beeped the SUV to unlock it, and everyone piled in from the sidewalk side, while I rounded the hood to climb in the driver’s side.
I opened my door, and an engine gunned.
Gunfire erupted.
Aunt Martha reached over the seat and yanked me inside a nanosecond before a speeding pickup took off my door.
“I can’t die before my wedding,” Zoe wailed from the backseat.
Tanner ran up from behind my truck to the space where my door used to be, his gun gripped in both hands, aimed at the ground. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
He reached across my lap, snagged my radio, and relayed a description of the pickup—decorated with a few bullet holes, courtesy of his Glock—and our location.
“You were the one shooting?” Zoe asked, sounding relieved it wasn’t the pickup guy.
Pete ran out of the house, his cell phone pressed to his ear. Aunt Martha rolled down her window, and Pete stuck his head through. “I got 911 on the line. Do you need an ambulance?”
“We’re good,” the rest echoed.
“Did you get the license plate?” he asked.
“No, I was kind of busy jumping out of the way!”
Tanner squeezed my arm. “I’m sorry. If I’d stayed in my truck, I might’ve been able to—” He glanced at Pete and clamped his mouth shut.
Right, Pete didn’t need to know I’d brought Tanner along to watch my back.
A couple parked behind us and strolled toward the house.
“I’ve got to go,” Pete said. “Police are on their way.”
“Great,” I said once he was out of earshot. “The last thing I want to do is answer a gazillion more questions.”
“At least we know Pete wasn’t driving the truck,” Aunt Martha said. “He was who you were worried about, wasn’t he?”
“He could’ve alerted the driver to her location,” Tanner countered.
“Or used the GPS tracker,” I added. “You still have it with you?”
Tanner grimaced, which I took to mean yes.
“Someone’s tracking you?” Zoe’s voice edged back up a few hundred decibels. “I don’t believe this. I knew I shouldn’t have come. I mean, I love you, but . . . Jax wants me to have all my limbs intact for the wedding. And I want to be able to walk down the aisle!”