“Nope. All I know is that the good doctor sure as hell wasn’t interested in helping me with my situation.”

  Bree had been wrong. It was Glen Carrico they needed to talk to, not Darin. But there was still one thing that didn’t make sense—those emails she’d discovered with the cipher. The more she talked to Darin, the less sense it made.

  She decided to come at it from a side angle rather than directly. “How old is Sharon again? Do you get to talk to her a lot right now? Phone? Email?”

  Darin rubbed his hand across his face. “She’s four. We talk a little on the phone—twice a week. No email, but that’s probably more me than her.”

  “You guys don’t get email in here?”

  “No, we do, but computers are Glen’s jive, not mine. I haven’t touched one since I’ve been in here.”

  She stared at him. Was he lying? She didn’t think so but couldn’t be sure. What he was saying made more sense than the complexly coded emails that seemed to have come from him. “Never? You’ve never emailed any friends or former associates? Your brother?”

  Darin shook his head. “Nah. They know to call me if they want to talk. I can’t type worth a damn.”

  It was time to ask him straight up. “So you never sent anyone a message about Anders or Newkirk?”

  “Why does everybody care about them so much? I barely knew the guys when they were here, much less now. I can’t even remember what Anders looks like.”

  “Everybody cares because they’re both dead. Murdered.” She hoped she wasn’t making a big mistake by telling him this.

  Darin’s eyes got wide before he sank back hard against his chair. “They are?” Panic fell over his features. “Wait—do the cops think I had something to do with it?”

  She shook her head. “Actually, the cops suspect Tanner did it.”

  He relaxed a little. “Oh. Your man does have some pretty big problems, then. Why are you asking me about them?”

  Bree believed Darin was legitimately surprised at the news of their deaths. “You’re the only other person who seemed to know them both, besides Dr. Michalski and Tanner. I was hoping you could remember talking to anyone about them.”

  “No, only to Glen when we were trying to figure out a way to keep me here, rather than going up to state pen. I just remembered that Anders and Newkirk had both made deals that had gotten them out early.”

  Glen again. Time was running out, and they needed to talk to him.

  “That other guy you mentioned. Duquette. He dead, too?”

  There didn’t seem much point in lying. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

  He whistled through his teeth. “Then no offense, but glad I don’t know him.”

  Even though it went against her nature, she reached over and touched Darin’s hand. “I’ve got to go. But I promise Tanner will look into what’s going on with your transfer.”

  “Sounds like your man has trouble enough of his own to worry about.”

  She nodded and let go of his hand. “He does. But I’m going to make sure that gets cleared up. And once I do, he won’t forget about you.”

  He just gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I won’t hold my breath. I’ve been forgotten by damn near everyone.”

  Before she could say anything further, he stood and walked toward the door.

  * * *

  THE HOUR BREE was inside the prison was one of the longest of Tanner’s life. He alternated between cursing himself for allowing her to do this at all and remembering that she was a genius and had handled circumstances worse than this since she was twelve years old.

  Still, seeing her walking toward him with her unnaturally blond hair meant he could finally let out the breath he’d been holding for the past hour. Her gait was leisurely, and she was pretending to talk on the telephone—both smart. Nothing about her drew any sort of attention. She could be one of any hundreds of women her age walking across a parking lot.

  He forced himself to stay in the car. It was the least he could do in order to help her sell her act.

  But it took every ounce of his control not to grab her and pull her into his arms and never let her out again.

  “Any problems?” he asked when she got in beside him.

  “We have all sorts of problems, but if you’re asking if I had any trouble getting inside, then no.”

  Thank God. Tanner started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “Okay, so what were the problems?”

  She began taking out the pins that held her wig in place. “This is probably going to sound like I’m just trying not to start my sexual experience as part of a conjugal visit with you...but you can’t turn yourself in yet.”

  He swallowed a bark of laughter. This woman. “Colorado doesn’t allow conjugal visits, but I’ll still hear you out on why I can’t turn myself in yet.”

  “I think this is all more complicated than we even thought.”

  He didn’t even try to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Of course it is. What did you find out?”

  “I don’t think Darin Carrico had anything to do with the murders. I told him Anders and Newkirk were dead, and he legitimately seemed surprised.”

  “What about the emails he sent?”

  “I don’t think he sent them at all. Someone just made it look like he did. If I look a little deeper, I wouldn’t be surprised if I found the emails hadn’t originated from Camp George West at all. Damn it, I should’ve looked into that further rather than take it at face value. It was stupid.”

  He reached over and placed his hand on hers, which had curled up into fists on her lap. One of his hands could cover both of hers. “Hey. You’re doing the best you can under much less than optimal circumstances. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be sitting in a cell with zero information about what was going on.”

  “It was still a careless mistake.”

  “Yeah, well, your mistakes are still providing us forward progress, so let’s focus on that. If you don’t think Carrico has anything to do with the murders, then who do you think is involved?”

  “I think all the answers might be with Glen Carrico, not Darin. Evidently he somehow knows Michalski’s wife, and I think Glen might be the one who hacked the doctor’s files.”

  “And he’s setting up his brother to look like the murderer? They seemed pretty friendly a few days ago.”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’ll have to dig deeper about the emails. But I definitely think Glen is the puzzle piece we’ve been missing in all this.”

  He squeezed her hands. “Then you’re right. It’s time to pay the other Carrico brother a visit.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Glen Carrico’s house was far away from damn near everything. The longer they drove down his isolated drive, the more uncomfortable Tanner became.

  “What do we know about this guy again?”

  Bree had held her computer in her lap since they’d pulled away from the prison almost an hour ago.

  “Glen Carrico. Older brother of Darin. Thirty-two years old, never married. No known significant other. Has lived at this address pretty much all of his adult life.”

  “And he and his brother are close?”

  Bree side-eyed him. “Juvenile records are a bit trickier to...access, but from what I’ve seen, yeah, they are definitely close. Looks like Glen took on responsibility for raising Darin when their mom took off. Glen was eighteen years old at the time. Darin was eleven. Glen pretty much gave up a lot of his future to take care of his brother.”

  Tanner grimaced. “Glen got any sort of record himself?”

  Bree shook her head. “Nothing. Honestly, it looks like he was a good kid. Got accepted to Colorado State with a full scholarship, but declined. Did his best trying to raise his troubled brother.”

  “He couldn’t have been very happy that Darin ended up in jail.”

  “Definitely not, and even more upset when they gave notice two months ago that they’re transferring him to max security. He’s written memos to just about every person with a pulse in the Colorado law enforcement system, trying to get Darin’s situation changed.”

  Tanner grimaced. “I’ll be honest—I don’t really understand what Glen has to do with any of this. He doesn’t have any ties with the victims and has never been in trouble with the law.”

  She nodded. “And Glen is dying of cancer. Only has a couple months left to live, according to Darin.”

  Tanner muttered a curse under his breath. People with nothing left to lose sometimes couldn’t be trusted. Added an extra layer of risk he and Bree definitely didn’t need.

  A small, run-down house finally came into view. Tanner parked in front of it, then reached over and got his Glock from the glove compartment. It didn’t look like anyone was home, but Tanner wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Any possibility I can talk you into staying in the car?” he asked her.

  Her sour look answered him before she even got the words out. “Any chance hell is freezing over in the next thirty seconds?”

  He chuckled. “Fine, but be careful.”

  “Yes, sir, Captain Sexy Lips.” She gave him a little salute.

  Keeping her close to his side as they approached the front door, Tanner untucked his shirt and placed his weapon in the front waistband of his pants. He didn’t like approaching the door without his weapon in hand, but he didn’t want Glen mistaking his gun as an act of aggression and responding in kind.

  “Glen Carrico, this is Tanner Dempsey. I’m not here in any official capacity. I’d just like to ask you a few questions.” Tanner said the words as they approached the broken steps leading up to the door. He listened for a second, but there was no answer.

  “Maybe we can talk about Darin and if there’s some way I can help him,” he called out again.

  Still no answer, and as they got closer to the door, Tanner realized it was open just the slightest bit.

  He brought his arm out and scooped Bree behind him, pulling his Glock out and pointing it at the ground by his leg.

  “Glen?” he called out again.

  He dropped his volume. “I really think you ought to consider waiting in the car.” He had a very bad feeling about this.

  Bree’s hands squeezed his waist. “Do you think he’s dead?”

  “I think it’s mighty quiet, and his door is cracked open in the middle of the day. That’s not a good sign.”

  “I’ll be okay. I don’t want to leave you.”

  He nodded—he didn’t really want her out of his sight, either—and continued forward, weapon raised. He wasn’t acting in any sort of law enforcement capacity, but years on the force still had him identifying himself once more at the door. “Glen, I’m coming inside. Your door is open, and I’m worried something is wrong.”

  Tanner swept Bree over to the side against the house, then nudged the door open with his foot. He gave her a pointed look and mouthed the words stay here.

  She nodded, and he had to trust she would keep her word. He moved inside, weapon now raised to eye level. He glanced around the room quickly but saw nothing posing danger. Keeping his back to the wall as much as possible, he walked quickly into the small kitchen. Nothing. It didn’t take him long to clear the rest of the house.

  There wasn’t any danger here and, even more important, no dead body.

  “It’s clear, freckles. You can come in.”

  “Anything bad?”

  He shook his head. “No, thank goodness. I was expecting the worst, and I’m happy not to have found it.”

  He tucked his gun back into the waistband of his jeans, and the two of them began looking around. There didn’t seem to be anything out of place or any sign of foul play, even with the door cracked open.

  Hell, this house was in the middle of nowhere. There was much more chance a wild animal would wander in here than people.

  It wasn’t till they were near the back of the house and Bree passed by an open window that they heard the music coming from a large shed a couple hundred meters from the back of the house.

  “That music wasn’t playing when we got out of the car. Maybe Glen is out there,” Bree said.

  They started the whole process once again. Tanner tried to keep Bree shielded as much as possible as he called out to see if Glen was in the shed and identified himself.

  He reached the door and had convinced himself that the man had just left the radio on when a shot fired from over their shoulder and blew out the window at the front of the shed, not five feet from where they were standing.

  Bree gave a little scream and Tanner dived for her, knocking them both to the ground, as another shot rang out, this one going a little more wide.

  Keeping Bree tucked behind him, Tanner pulled out his gun and fired once in the direction the bullets had come from. There was no way he’d be very accurate from this distance, but it would buy them a second or two.

  “Stay low and get inside.”

  Bree immediately began crawling toward the shed door.

  He fired once again, only one time, wanting to save as many bullets as he could in case he needed them, but also wanting to give them a little bit of cover to make it.

  Another shot rang out, this one going too high. Bree was inside already, so Tanner dived for the door, yanking it closed behind him.

  The shed looked like it hadn’t been cleaned out in years. There was stuff everywhere—from stacked tires to old tools to piles of plywood. But the junk worked in their favor.

  “Stay low and try to get behind something,” he said, guiding her to a spot behind the stack of tires. “If Glen starts shooting blindly the walls won’t stop bullets, but the other stuff will.”

  “Are you sure that’s Glen out there? Why’s he shooting at us?”

  “Maybe he saw me with my gun and got nervous.”

  Or maybe they’d just found their killer.

  “I’ll try to give him the benefit of the doubt,” he continued. “Mostly because Glen is either a really bad shot or he wasn’t trying to hit us. If he had wanted us dead, he could’ve done it the moment we stepped outside his house, from the angle he was at.”

  Tanner stepped closer to the door. “This is Captain Tanner Dempsey,” he called out. “We just want to talk. Whatever’s happening here is a miscommunication.”

  “I know who you are, cop.” That was definitely Glen Carrico’s voice.

  “I know I had my weapon out, Glen, but that was because your front door was open and I thought there might be danger. It wasn’t intended in an aggressive nature toward you. So let’s just both put our weapons down and we can talk like reasonable adults.”

  Glen scoffed. “I don’t think I have ever known a cop to be reasonable my whole life. Somehow I don’t think today is going to be my lucky day.”

  “I’m not here as law enforcement, just as a regular person. I just want to talk.”

  “Tanner Dempsey, hero of Grand County, not here as law enforcement?” Carrico gave a bitter laugh. “I know all about you, Dempsey. And you’re not going to get away with what you’ve been getting away with.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Glen. I didn’t kill those guys, so I’m not getting away with anything.”

  For a long time the other man didn’t say anything. When he finally did, Tanner had to strain to hear him.

  “You’re here earlier than I thought. I thought I had more time.”

  “More time for what?” Tanner called out when Carrico didn’t say anything else. “Glen, come on. Let’s talk this out. I’m willing to chalk up the bullets in our direction as a miscommunication. We can still discuss what we’re here to talk about.”

  “What if I don’t want to talk to you? Did that ever occur to you, you conceited pig?”

  Bree winced from her place crouched behind the tires.

  “Fine. Then just let us out. You don’t have to talk to us at all. We’ll leave.”

  “No can do, Dempsey.” Carrico’s contempt was clear the way he spit Tanner’s name.

  “You can’t keep us here. And you don’t want to shoot a cop. That will bring all sorts of heat down on you.”

  “Even if I shoot you, Dempsey? My understanding is that you’re wanted for murder right now. What if I just say I thought you were trying to attack me and that it was self-defense? After all, you are on my property.”

  The man did have a valid point.

  “I don’t think that’s really what you want to do, is it, Glen?” Tanner said in the most soothing voice he could muster and still get the volume he needed. “If you’d wanted to kill us, you could’ve done it already.”

  Silence followed. Then more silence.

  “Do you think he left?” Bree finally asked as the quiet around them dragged out further.

  Tanner moved over so he could peek out the window. “Maybe. If he did, we should leave before he changes his mind.”

  She nodded. “I’m all for that.”

  Tanner eased the door open. “Glen, we’re coming out. Hold your fire. We just want to get to our car and leave.”

  They both stayed far away from the door as Tanner pushed it open with a stick in case it was a trap. Then held the stick out to see if that would draw fire.

  Nothing.

  Gritting his teeth, he stuck his hand out long enough for Glen to fire at him, praying he’d be pulling it back with all his fingers still attached.

  He did.

  It was now or never. He held his hand out to Bree. “Let’s go before Glen changes his mind.”

  Keeping low, they ran out the door. But they weren’t two feet away before a shot rang out and the door frame above their heads splintered.

  With a low curse, Tanner grabbed Bree around the waist and spun them both back into the shed, slamming the door behind them.

 

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