After reviewing his choices, Hunter picked two other officers to join him on his operation. Tim Lakely, because he knew the other man well, and Brittney Tower. Brit had a reputation for being adaptable and levelheaded, which were always good qualities to have on any operation.
He asked them both to join him in one of the interrogation rooms, which they did, no questions asked. Taking seats, they listened intently as he explained everything.
“I like it,” Tim enthused. “Though I have to say, until the murder weapon was found on his property, I never once considered Devlin Harrington a suspect.”
“Seriously?” Brit eyed him. “Please don’t tell me you jumped on the Demi Colton bandwagon. That woman had nothing to do with any of this.”
She’d voiced the exact argument currently raging in their squad room. Men and women who worked side by side as partners had taken sides over this. Finding the Groom Killer had become more than catching a murderer and saving their town. Finding the Groom Killer would also restore unity to the Red Ridge Police Department.
However, right now, Hunter damn sure didn’t want to hear that same old argument again.
“Whether she did or she didn’t,” Hunter interjected, “we need to take a look at Devlin. Judge Kugen didn’t feel we have enough evidence for a warrant, so we’ve got to go at this another way.”
“Great thinking,” Brit said, clapping him on the back. “I still can’t believe anyone would pay that much money for a baseball card.”
“I admit to being shocked myself.” He grinned. The more he interacted with her, the more certain Hunter became that Brit had been a good choice for the team. And she and Tim had a chemistry that he hadn’t picked up on before now. This could be good or bad, depending. As long as no one let their attention get diverted from the task at hand.
“Now here’s what we’re going to do,” he continued. And then he outlined his plan to arrest Devlin. The other two suggested changes, they discussed every aspect and finally he felt ready to go.
With Tim and Brit listening in, Hunter called Devlin. “I have great news. It looks like you won the auction,” he said.
“Fantastic.” The confidence in Devlin’s voice spoke to his absolute certainty that he’d win.
Hunter took a deep breath and continued. “I’ll need the payment in cash. How long do you need to raise the money?”
“Raise the money?” Devlin chuckled. “I’ve had it sitting here in a briefcase ever since you showed me those cards.”
The thought of leaving that kind of cash lying around boggled the mind. But Hunter kept his mouth shut. Instead he asked the other man where he’d like to meet.
“You can come here,” Devlin replied. “I mean, you’re positive no one knows you stole the cards, right?”
“Right.” Inwardly, Hunter winced. Since the entire conversation was being recorded, Devlin’s admission that he knew full well he’d be purchasing stolen property would be damning. Even if they couldn’t use the recording in court, they could present it as evidence to a judge in order to obtain a search warrant. Which was the entire point.
“When can you bring the cards by?” The eagerness in Devlin’s voice made him sound like a kid about to open Christmas presents.
“This afternoon.” Hunter wanted to swing by and pick up Goose. He needed her expert nose to make sure Devlin hadn’t moved his stash of data, even though he couldn’t yet legally extricate it. One thing was for sure, whatever data the other man was hiding, had to be big. Hunter had a feeling it would be Devlin’s downfall. In fact, he was betting this entire investigation on exactly that.
Call concluded, Tim and Brit high-fived. “Success,” Brit crowed.
“Yeah.” Hunter cleared his throat. “Let’s go over everything one more time. We can’t afford any mistakes.”
After reviewing the instructions with his new team and standing still while he was outfitted with a wire, Hunter left to get Goose. As soon as he asked her if she was ready to work, she immediately got even more excited. He took her out back, giving her a minute or two to calm down. Goose worked best cold, without a lot of prior preparation, so he didn’t mention working again. Not yet. He’d save that for when they arrived at Harrington Inc.
Once they exited his house, he led Goose to his personal SUV. Though he’d taken the squad car the last time he visited Devlin’s office, he wanted to make it look more like personal business this time. Out in the street, Tim and Brittney sat in an unmarked van. They’d follow him, listening in on the conversation and recording everything.
When he arrived, the receptionist clearly had been instructed to watch for him. She rose gracefully and greeted him with a welcoming smile, a far cry from his last visit, and told him to go right on up. She said Mr. Harrington was expecting him.
Like before, Hunter carried the baseball cards in his inside coat pocket. When he stepped off the elevator, Devlin waited for him, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He’d slicked his dark hair back, and the custom suit he wore probably cost several months of Hunter’s salary.
“Not the dog again,” Devlin complained, wrinkling his aristocratic nose in distance.
“I told you, my dog goes everywhere with me,” Hunter replied. “Even to work. Right, Goose?”
Though she wagged her tail, Goose looked up at Hunter as if to ask him if this guy was for real.
“And you talk to your dog.”
“Of course I do.” Hunter let a trace of annoyance show. “If you don’t like me bringing Goose, the two of us can always leave.”
“Not until we’ve finished our business.” Tone placating, Devlin gestured toward his plush office. “And your dog is always welcome. She can even sit on the chair. The cloth one,” he elaborated. “Not the Italian leather.”
Which made Hunter want to ask Goose to hop up on the forbidden chair.
Though the thought made him want to laugh, he wouldn’t. Instead, he maintained his poker face and followed the other man to his office. His feet sank into the thick carpet.
Once inside, while Devlin closed the door, Goose glanced at Hunter, clearly waiting for him to give her the silent hand signal or the verbal cue. He’d already said the word work, which had alerted her.
This time, he used his hand as he let go of her leash. Roaming around, sniffing, Goose sat with her nose out toward Devlin’s desk, adopting the posture meant to alert Hunter to the presence of some sort of data storage device.
He felt a little thrill of pride. His dog had never been wrong, not once since completing her training.
“Good girl.” Hunter signaled her off. Immediately, she returned to his side, though with her head up and her nose twitching, she clearly wasn’t finished working. Nor did he want her to be. But he couldn’t send her to do a full office search. Not yet, since they couldn’t do anything legally without the search warrant, which hopefully would be obtained soon.
“Well? Do you have them?” Devlin asked, all but rubbing his hands together with glee. His cuff links flashed in the light. Were those actual diamonds?
Hunter squelched his instinctive dislike for the other man and nodded. “I do. What about the money?”
Reaching under his desk, Devlin retrieved a battered leather briefcase and placed it in front of him on the desk. He clicked the metal fastenings and opened it, revealing neat stacks of hundred-dollar bills. “It’s all right here. The exact amount. Would you like to count it?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Hunter began, which was the cue to send his teammates rushing in to make the arrest.
Both men turned toward the door at the sound of a commotion out in the hallway.
“Sir, ma’am, you can’t go in there,” Devlin’s secretary shouted, just as the door to his office crashed open. Talk about a dramatic entrance. Hunter had to look down to hide his grin.
Exactly as planned, Tim and Brit rushed through, their service weapons drawn. “Nobody move,” Brit ordered.
“What’s going on?” Devlin asked, even as he tried to nudge the briefcase to the side. “I don’t understand—”
“We’ve got you on tape.” Brit’s cold stare had been known to fell hardened criminals.
Devlin merely frowned. “On tape for what?”
“You’re under arrest,” Hunter elaborated. “For purchasing stolen goods. Officer Lakely is going to read you your rights.”
“Oh, yeah?” Devlin’s eyes narrowed. “What about you? You’re the one who stole them and then tried to sell them to me. You might be a cop, but you’re also a thief. If anyone’s going down, it’s going to be you.”
Hunter shook his head. “Not this time, Harrington. This was part of a sting operation. The cards will be returned to evidence immediately.” He indicated the briefcase. “The cash is in there.”
“Entrapment,” Devlin shouted. “I won’t stand for this. It’s nearly Thanksgiving, for Pete’s sake. I have plans! I demand I be allowed to call my attorney.”
“You will be, in good time.” Brittney snatched up the briefcase, despite Devlin’s efforts to keep hold of it.
“Come on,” Tim ordered, going up behind Devlin and cuffing him. “You have the right to remain silent...”
Hunter took the opportunity to take another stroll around the office with Goose after quietly giving her the hand signal to work.
Again, the little dog alerted Hunter to several locations, which made him itch to get his hands on that search warrant. Since everything would soon be shutting down for the holiday, he knew they’d have to move fast. Hopefully, they could get in the request this afternoon and have the warrant by morning.
While that was in the works, he had to firm up Thanksgiving plans. No doubt since he hadn’t heard from her, Mae simply assumed he’d come to dinner there, like he always did. Which would be fine. He’d simply sound her out on the possibility of him bringing a guest.
On the drive back to the office, he called her. Mae answered on the second ring with that usual combination of annoyance and affection in her gravelly voice.
“There you are,” she said. “I kept wondering when I was going to hear from you. I thought maybe you’d gone out of town for Thanksgiving.”
He laughed. “Nope, I’m still here and still working. I’ve been trying to adjust to working days.”
“They switched you off graveyard shift?”
“Yep.” After exchanging a few small pleasantries, Hunter finally got around to the point of his call. “How would you feel about having Thanksgiving at my place? Kind of give you a break this year.”
“Are you kidding me? I’ve already started cooking. You can’t wait until the last moment and then expect me to switch plans. Do you have any idea how much work goes into this meal?”
And then she started her familiar litany of complaints. Since griping was a habit of hers and everyone who knew her well was familiar with this particular character flaw, Hunter paid her little mind. He simply listened and waited for her to wind down.
Once she finally paused for breath, he asked her what she wanted him to bring. After that, he figured he’d mentioned that he’d like to have Layla accompany him.
“I’m sorry,” Mae finally said, after a brief—and thoroughly unlike her—silence. “The twins are bringing their new girlfriends and they specifically asked me to tell you not to come.”
“What?” Stunned, Hunter pushed back the shock and hurt. “Are you kidding me?”
“That’s why I didn’t call you,” she admitted. “I kept hoping they’d change their minds. I hope it’s not too late for you to make other plans.”
Part of him wanted to tell her it was and demand he be allowed to show up for the holiday meal, just like always. The other part of him, what little remained of the vulnerable boy who’d lost his entire family, refused to beg for something that should have been his right.
“As it turns out, I did make other plans,” he said, forcing a cheerful nonchalance into his voice. “That’s why I invited you over. I have a lady friend coming to eat, plus a few other people that I invited.” Or would invite. He knew there were several at the station who spent the holiday alone. Occasionally, they got together and had dinner out and saw a movie. It might be late notice, but he figured they might want to have a home-cooked meal at his place. If not, he’d cook for just himself and Layla.
“Good.” Of course Mae sounded relieved. This would be the first time since Hunter had gone to live with her as a teenager that he wouldn’t be welcome at Thanksgiving. No doubt Christmas would be the same. The message was clear: time to move on with his life.
“I’ll let you go,” he said, clearing his throat, again pushing away the hurt and anger.
“Okay.” She sighed. “Please do stop by and visit soon. Maybe Friday, when the twins aren’t here.”
“We’ll see.” He waited for more, for her to apologize for letting her rotten grandsons rule her life, but she only murmured goodbye and ended the call.
He sat for a moment, holding his phone, trying to process what had just happened. Dumped by the people he thought of as family, while admittedly dysfunctional, right before his favorite holiday of the year.
Immediately he thought of Layla. This sort of thing, being alone on Thanksgiving, had long been her norm. Not this year. It might be short notice, he thought with a bit of grim determination, but he could think of a few other people at work and around town who might welcome coming over for a home-cooked meal on Thursday. If he got busy, he figured he could turn this into a Thanksgiving Layla would never forget.
It took two tries, but Layla finally managed to make that caramel-apple cheesecake. She threw away her first attempt, which she’d managed to overcook so badly it had cracked down the middle, and started over.
She had to admit, she felt pretty darn proud when she removed it from Hunter’s oven.
“Smells great,” he said, finally entering the kitchen. She suspected he’d deliberately stayed away to give her space while she baked. “And looks even better. Well done.”
His praise made her beam with pride. “Thank you. Now tell me, what can I do to help you?”
“You might be sorry you asked.” He rubbed his hands together. “But let’s get started.”
For the next several hours, following Hunter’s instructions, she chopped and sautéed, mixed and blended. He made a homemade dressing, a sweet potato casserole and green beans with almonds. He also showed her how to make the cranberry relish and mix up the turkey brine so he could soak the bird overnight. Goose watched all of this from her place on the rug near the back door, clearly hoping they’d relent and toss a scrap of something her way.
“Not today, girl,” Hunter said, smiling at his dog. “But tomorrow you’ll get a nice slice of turkey.”
Goose chuffed happily, as if she understood his every word. This made Layla laugh, earning a grin from Hunter before he went back to cutting cheese for a cheese platter.
Thanksgiving meal was going to be a feast, she thought, exactly like the ones she’d read about or seen on TV. Hunter appeared determined to go all out. The only thing he wasn’t making from scratch, as far as she could tell, were rolls. Two bottles of a nice riesling were chilling in the fridge.
While he put the finishing touches to some sort of pea salad, she set the table. Four others—one from the K9 training center and three from the police department—had RSVP’d that they were coming. Including Hunter and Layla, that made six total.
Hunter hadn’t elaborated as to the reason for the change in plans. When she’d asked about Mae Larson, he’d only said that she’d made other arrangements. She’d noticed his carefully controlled tone and wondered but figured he’d tell her what happened when and if he was ready.
“This is going to be epic,” he said when they finally finished. He grabbed them both a beer, twisting off the tops before handing a bottle to her. Accepting it, she followed him into the living room and dropped onto the sofa with a sigh. Goose followed and jumped up next to her, turning a couple of circles before settling in place.
“Wow,” she mused. “That was intense.”
“But getting to eat it tomorrow will make it all worth it.” The twinkle in his blue eyes started a slow warmth low in her body.
“True, I guess.”
“You guess?” He took a long drink of his beer before grinning at her. “There’s a reason Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. All that delicious food.” He kicked his feet up on the ottoman. “Makes all the work worthwhile, I promise.”
Again that sizzle of attraction buzzed through her veins. Never would she have believed a man who could cook would be so damn sexy. But more than that, she really liked him the more she got to know him. She found herself wishing they were sitting next to each other with his arm around her. She thought how good it would feel to rest her head on his shoulder, to curve herself into his body.
“What’s your fiancé doing tomorrow?” Hunter asked.
And just like that, reality came crashing back in. “I’m not sure,” she said, realizing she hadn’t heard from Hamlin at all. “I haven’t talked to him in a while.” Nor had she even spared him a thought.
“Then you aren’t aware that his son was arrested?
“Devlin?” Shocked, she tried to imagine how that had gone. “What for? I can’t stand the man, but I don’t think he’s a criminal.”
“Oh, he is.” The certainty in Hunter’s voice made her take a second look at him. “He tried to purchase stolen property, for starters.”
“Maybe he wasn’t aware it was stolen.”
“He knew.” Narrowing his eyes, Hunter studied her. “Are you defending him? Maybe because he’s going to become part of your family?”
She’d already started shaking her head before he’d even finished talking. “Not at all. But I can imagine his father must be upset, what with Devlin in jail over Thanksgiving.”
“He’s not in jail. He bonded out already. The rules rarely apply to people with that kind of money.”
The bitterness in his voice concerned her. Mainly because people usually lumped her into that same group. “Oh,” she replied rather than questioning. “Then Hamlin is probably relieved.”
“Don’t the two of you talk at all?” Hunter asked, his expression watchful.
Her situation with Hamlin was the last thing she wanted to discuss the night before her first real Thanksgiving. Yet something about the hunger in Hunter’s gaze urged her to tell him the truth. “I’m thinking that entire thing might not work out.”
He tilted his head and took another drink. “Pretty vague statement, don’t you think? Want to elaborate?”
Instead, she jumped to her feet and took the chicken’s way out. “Not tonight. I’m pretty tired. Since it’s after ten, I think I’ll head to bed.” And beer in hand, she fled to the relative quiet of her room.
The moment she closed the door, she missed Hunter. She knew what he wanted to hear, which was the same thing she wanted to do, but she didn’t want to do it because of him. If she broke things off with Hamlin, it would have to be on her own terms, in her own timing. Her father would be furious and her decision would definitely impact Colton Energy.
As for Hamlin himself, she sensed he wouldn’t really be affected, at least not emotionally. Aside from his wanting her sexually, the rest was all a business decision to him, not personal. Once she’d rejected him, she doubted he even cared if he ever saw her again. He could always find another trophy wife.
The next morning, she woke up at six, jumped in the shower and then hurried to get ready. She knew Hunter had planned to put the turkey in early since they were eating at one, but she wasn’t sure when.
Hair dried, makeup done, she dressed comfortably in worn jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt before hurrying to the kitchen. Goose greeted her with a soft woof and a tail wag. Hunter sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a muffin.
“There’s more muffins over there,” he said, pointing. “I confess I used a mix to make them, but they’re still good.” As if using a mix was a sin.
Her stomach growled, right on cue, loud enough to make him smile. “Sounds like you could definitely use a couple,” he teased. “Help yourself.”
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Working side by side like an old married couple, he directed and she followed his directions. They cooked or heated everything they’d made the day before, and by the time the doorbell chimed to announce the first guest, the entire house smelled fantastic. For the first time, Layla truly understood Hunter’s obsession with the holiday. Her mouth watered and she could hardly wait to taste everything.
Soon everyone had arrived. Layla recognized the only other woman from the K9 center, where she was a trainer. The rest of the group were other police officers, two younger, single guys with families far away, and one older man who said he was a widower.
Hunter set up everything on the kitchen counter, buffet style. Once he’d carved the perfectly browned turkey, he invited everyone to help themselves. Which they did.
Laughing, talking, sharing stories, passing the rolls around the table and eating, of course. Eating and more eating. No one appeared reluctant to have seconds. And when Hunter brought out the cheesecake Layla had made, everyone groaned good-naturedly and dug in.
It was the best Thanksgiving Layla had ever had.
Sitting back, her stomach and her heart full, she took it all in and wondered how she could have lived thirty-one years without every experiencing a day like today.
The one subject they’d all agreed not to discuss was work. On this day of celebration and hope, Hunter said, no darkness should be allowed to tarnish the meal.
Though they weren’t related by blood and Layla barely knew them, by the end of the meal, they felt like family. Mort with his shiny bald head, telling wistful stories about his wife and her many botched holiday meals. She’d been gone five years, he’d said, and he still missed her every day.
The younger guys, Shannon and Gray, tried to one-up each other with who could eat the most, jostling each other with boasts about the one time they’d...fill in the blank. Cara the dog trainer spent a lot of time interacting with Goose, who’d parked herself under the table in case anyone dropped food.
As host, Hunter interacted with them all. There were lots of laughs, and the sense of camaraderie actually made Layla’s throat close up more than once. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed. She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been. When Shannon voiced the hope that this would become an annual tradition, every single one of them agreed without hesitation.
After her cheesecake had been devoured, the guys decamped to the living room to watch football. Still marveling over her happiness, Layla began clearing the table, intending to do the dishes. Cara shook her head, muttered something about gender profiling and went to watch the game with the men. Grinning, Layla waved her away. Truly, she didn’t mind. She relished the chance to be alone with her thoughts. Though to some of the others, today might have seemed ordinary, to her the meal had been a revelation. She needed some quiet time to process her thoughts and emotions. Continuing to gather up plates and silverware, she stacked them next to the sink.
Seeing this, Hunter returned. He went right past Layla and began rinsing off plates before stacking them in the dishwasher.
Layla couldn’t help but stare. Neither her father nor any of his friends could be bothered to help clean up anything. “What are you doing?” she asked, even though it seemed obvious.
He barely even turned. “Rinsing the plates. What are you doing?”
“Touché.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Go watch the game,” she ordered. “You did most of the cooking. I can handle this.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder, expression intense. “I’d rather be with you,” he said.