Searching for Winslet (Fallport Rescue Operations #5)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Winslet should have taken her own vehicle to the State lab. She was playing a foolish game, and there was no guarantee Shamus would even see Jett drop her off.

Or pick her up.

What difference did it make anyway?

She didn’t want Shamus in her life, so there was no worry of her succumbing to his charm. Not that he would turn it up. He’d made it very clear that he was in love with his wife.

This week would prove to be quite difficult. Shamus was only one of the reasons. Work was another one, especially if the bones proved to be Hannah Wilks. But the one that was the heaviest on her mind was the conversation she would be having with Emory. She owed it to her best friend to take this career opportunity seriously. Becoming head of the department would be a big deal. It would be the first time she had a steady position.

Ever.

It would give her the maximum opportunity to work with both state and federal crime units, and she loved that idea.

But then there was Jett.

This thing with him happened so fast and furious she couldn’t untangle her heart from her mind. She needed a moment to think. To separate her emotions and do what Jett did best.

Be logical.

Something she normally prided herself on. But every time she thought about this damn job, there were only two things she could think about.

Jett.

And her father.

Those were strictly emotional reasons for either leaving. Or staying.

“You’ve been awfully quiet this entire ride.” Jett reached across the cab of his truck and took her hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“You’re not very convincing.”

“I’m worried about who those bones belong to.” She turned her head as they pulled into the parking lot.

“And seeing Shamus?” Jett rolled his truck to a stop in front of the main doors.

“He’s the least of my concerns,” she admitted. “I’ll be more worried when his wife and kids show up. But I’m in a much better headspace about all that thanks to my little sister.” Winslet laughed. “I’m really enjoying how our friendship is growing. She’s quite the little firecracker.”

“That she is.” He shifted in his seat. “Something else is bugging you. Talk to me.”

“It’s not a conversation we should have before I head into work.” It was strange how easy it was to be honest with Jett. Or how much she didn’t want to lie to him, which she wondered if she should. She glanced at the clock on the dash. Not that she punched a time clock with the state police.

He arched a single brow. “I’m not leaving now until you at least hint at what’s got you furrowing your forehead.”

She let out a long sigh. “I’m seriously considering taking a full-time position at the university.”

“Really.” His lips curved into a smile. It wasn’t a big one. As a matter of fact, it was as though he was trying not to smile.

All that did was bring one to her mouth.

“Oh my God. Don’t let that go to your head.” She playfully slapped his shoulder. “There is still a big part of me that sure as shit doesn’t want to stay in this town. I can’t deal with my father. And he’s being all weird about me and Tammy being close.”

“Yeah. You showed me that text. It was strange. Who wouldn’t want their children to have a decent relationship. It was like he wanted a wedge between you and then to ask about the bones. That seemed odd as well.”

“Everyone in town is curious about that,” she said. “For whatever reason, he’s threatened by me being close with Tammy.”

Jett chuckled. “My mom gets jealous sometimes over how tight Evelynn and I are.”

“Tammy said my dad has been acting off all week. I think he’s paranoid. Maybe my mom’s finally smartening up. Wouldn’t that be nice.”

Jett reached out and traced her jawline. “You’re changing the subject again.”

“I know. And it’s because I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She pressed her hand over his mouth. “While I do care about you and I’m enjoying what’s happening between us, you can’t be the reason I stay. I have a lot to consider. My career. My life goals. My family. My team. It’s a lot.”

He curled his fingers around her wrist and kissed her palm. “As long as I’m not the reason you leave.”

“That wouldn’t be the case, but I’m trying not to factor you into my decision. I’m sorry if that hurts you.”

“Please, Winslet. We’ve been dating for a week.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers in a tender, loving kiss. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you to stay. But I’m not going to pressure you. This is your career. Something you’ve worked on your whole adult life. It matters to you. Therefore, it matters to me.”

“You’re not helping.” She palmed his now full beard. “I really like this on you.”

“I could never keep it when I was in the military. Ultimately, I’m lazy, so it’s nice not to have to shave every day,” he said. “After work, why don’t we sit down and chat about your job offer. You know how pragmatic I can be. I promise I won’t toss myself into a reason to stay.”

“I honestly believe that about you.”

“Come on. I’ll walk you to the door.”

She lowered her chin and arched a brow.

All he did was laugh and open the truck door. Deep down, she knew if she took the job, he would be one of the reasons she did.

Putting her heart on the line sometimes sucked.

But before she did that, she needed to know a few things and that would be a difficult conversation. A conversation that was way too soon. However, she needed to have it if she was going to stay.

She took his hand and slipped from the passenger seat. Tossing her backpack over her shoulder, she strolled toward the main doors.

“Jett? Jett McCoy, is that you?” a female voice rang out from somewhere behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder and her heart plummeted to her toes. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as if it were laced with superglue.

There stood Shamus and his wife.

“Holy shit. Feya Thompson. I can’t believe it. What the hell are you doing in Fallport, Virginia?” Jett’s arm circled around her waist as he pulled her tight. He knew what Shamus looked like, so he had to know he was staring at the man. It didn’t take a genius to make the connection.

“It’s Feya Quinn now.” She smiled sweetly. The woman was gorgeous with her long blond hair, stunning blue eyes, and tiny little figure. She pressed her hand on Shamus’ chest, her wedding ring sparkling in the sun. “This is my husband Shamus.” She glanced up at him with adoring eyes. “Shamus, Jett and I went to high school together. Well, he was a couple of years older. I actually graduated with his sister.” She turned her head. “How is Evelynn? Gosh. I haven’t seen or talked to her since our five-year reunion. I did hear she married Doug. That had to have been weird for you.”

“Not at all. They have two kids now.” Jett pressed his lips on Winslet’s temple. “This is my girlfriend, Winslet.”

Feya’s pretty smile disappeared, and her eyes grew wide with what appeared to be shock. She pursed her lips and then cleared her throat. “Oh. Are you the same Winslet that was on the dig in Africa with my husband?”

“She is,” Shamus said. “Hey, Winslet. It’s good to see you again. I was told you would be working on this case and that I would be speaking to your students.”

“That you are.” Winslet nodded. Damn, this had to be the most awkward thing she’d ever done. “And it’s nice to see you too.” But it wasn’t.

“Sweetie, you didn’t mention someone you’ve worked with before would be here,” Feya said.

“Babe, I honestly didn’t think about it.” Shamus looped his arm around his wife. “I need to get going. I’m behind on this case and I need to read up.” He kissed his wife. “I’ll see you in there, Winslet.” He nodded. “It was nice meeting you, Jett.”

“See you around.” Jett squeezed her hip so hard, she worried he might have left fingerprints. It didn’t hurt, but she could tell it was taking all Jett’s energy not to say something crazy.

She appreciated Jett for being kind.

But what a strange turn of events this was.

“So, Jett. Last I heard, you were in the Army. What happened?”

“It was time to leave,” he said. “I’m now a park ranger and if I don’t get going, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Well, it was good seeing you again. And nice to meet you, Winslet.” Feya turned on her heel and headed toward a nice shiny rental.

Jett wrapped his arms around Winslet, resting his chin on top of her head.

She buried her face in his chest and sighed. “I can’t believe you know his wife.”

“She was a friend of Evelynn’s. She used to sleep over at my house. They lost touch right around the time Feya got married. I remember that distinctly because Evelynn kind of felt like Feya dropped her entire friend group for her new husband. But Feya did move away, and I guess was constantly moving a lot.”

“Nature of the beast when you do what Shamus and I do, unless you take a professorship.”

Jett cupped her face. “Not to make this any harder than it already is, but Feya was always a nice girl. A little clingy and needy. But I always thought she was sweet.”

“Please tell me you didn’t date her.”

“I did not.” He kissed her nose. “I’m working in the office this morning, and then I’ll be up at the second post, which has cell reception. Text or call if you need me. I mean it. If I’m not tending to something, I’ll answer.”

“You might regret that offer.”

“I can’t regret anything with you.” He kissed her good and hard. It was the kind of kiss that didn’t belong in public. But she didn’t care. Whether this lasted only another day, a week, a month, or forever, she’d cherish every second she had with Jett.

Even his logicalness could be endearing.

Because the man had a heart of fucking gold.

Winslet pushed open the door to the lab and was greeted by a scowling Shamus. She glanced around, but no one had come in yet. Gently, she closed the door.

This would not be pleasant.

“What the fuck, Winslet? Seriously? Your boyfriend went to school with my wife? How did you manage that one? Or did you put out an ad for anyone who?—”

“Shut up.” She dropped her bag on the desk in the corner and snagged her white lab coat. “Jett and I were just as surprised as you were by that revelation and honestly, I’d rather not talk about the fucked-up situation you put us all in. I need you to focus on the soil, possible insects that were on the bones, and all your expertise so we can find out where this body might have been buried before she was found on that trail.”

“I will dive into my job in a second, but I need to know that you and what’s his name will stay clear of?—”

“Oh my God, Shamus. I have no desire to blow up your life. If that were the case, I would have done it months ago. But since you brought it up, she deserves so much better than you. Honestly, you’re a two-timing prick. If you didn’t have small children, I would be telling her and not because I want to hurt you, but because she should know the truth and be able to decide for herself what she wants. Only, you know all this about me because I told you about my dad.” She waved her finger under his nose. “For as long as you are here, don’t bring it up again. Let’s do our jobs and stay out of each other’s way.”

Before Shamus could respond to her little rant, Emory came strolling through the door. She paused at the threshold and groaned. Loudly. She scrunched her face, and it looked like she ate something that tasted worse than three-day-old fish. “Hello, Shamus. I can’t say I’m glad to see you again.”

“This is going to be a fun couple of weeks,” Shamus said under his breath. He stood in front of a few samples, lifted a clipboard, and stared at… Winslet had no idea, and she didn’t care.

She hugged Emory. “How was your weekend?”

“Splendid. Yours?”

“Amazing. Jett is dying for the four of us to get together. We’ll have to do that this weekend now that Oliver is back for a bit.”

“Are we still on for Wednesday night?” Emory bit down on her lower lip.

Emory had fallen in love with Fallport. With the university. She and Oliver had never made demands. They had been as loyal as they came, and Winslet owed it to them—to herself—to honestly look at this offer.

She was pushing forty.

It was time to stop moving from one guest spot to the next. From one crazy dig site to the next.

It wasn’t just Emory and Oliver that needed stability for their family. Winslet needed it too. She craved it. And fucking bloody hell, she wanted it with Jett of all people.

How the hell did someone fall in love so quickly? And could she really trust that emotion?

“Absolutely. I’m looking forward to the conversation,” Winslet said.

“Are you really?”

“Yes, Emory.” She smiled. “I haven’t made any decisions, but I want to muddle through all the details. I’m honestly open to the idea.”

“Or maybe you’re just open to Jett.”

“He is adorable, isn’t he.”

Shamus coughed.

Winslet had totally forgotten he was in the room. A weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Her heart had a new lightness about it. It beat a little faster and with purpose. Being with Jett was a risk. But he didn’t feel like a complication. It wasn’t hard being with him, not like it had been with Shamus.

Jett was open. Honest. Perhaps to a fault. He shared things about his life. His family. She’d even had a conversation with his sister, which should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. Jett took life on as it happened, something she wished she was better at. Sure, he was a wounded man. Both literally and figuratively.

But he was a man who was constantly grateful to be alive and maybe share a little bit of that with someone else.

She just wished he wanted a family.

The fact he’d made it clear fatherhood wasn’t for him took all the wind out of her sails and it could be the deciding factor in everything. It shouldn’t be. She barely knew the man. A little over a week didn’t make for a great romance. But there was something about Jett that made her insides turn to mush.

Damn, how her life had changed.

“He certainly is.” Emory nodded like a bobblehead. “I saw him in the parking lot as I was coming in. He’s so kind. Always has something nice to say. I’m so glad you met him.”

“Ladies, we have work to do,” Shamus interjected.

Emory rolled her eyes.

The door to the lab swung open and Weston strolled in decked out in his police uniform. “Good morning,” he said.

“Weston. What brings you by?” Winslet asked.

He glanced in Shamus’ direction and narrowed his stare while he looped his fingers in his belt. “I have news.” He jerked his chin. “And who is this?”

“Our colleague. Shamus Quinn.”

“Nice to meet you.” Weston widened his stance and turned his attention back to Winslet, catching her gaze. “We have identified the body and before it’s made public, I wanted to let you know.”

“Well, shit. It’s Hannah Wilks.” Winslet leaned against the counter, ignoring Weston’s look of disgust over being in the same room with Shamus.

Weston wasn’t an overly judgmental man, but when someone hurt a friend, the gloves came off. While his facial expressions didn’t give too much away, his seething stare did. It tore through her body like a rocket. It wasn’t directed at her, but she figured he had no desire to engage in any small talk with a lying cheat like Shamus.

Who would?

“According to the dental records from what you gave us, I’m afraid so.” Weston nodded. “I’m headed over to Cooper’s place after I leave here.”

“That’s not going to go well,” Winslet said.

“Nope.” Weston reached out and squeezed her forearm. “Can we go out in the hall for a second?”

“Sure.” She followed Weston through the door. “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t want to say this in front of that asshole and wasn’t sure if you wanted Emory or anyone else hearing this,” Weston said. “But Chief Hill wants me to bring in your dad for questioning.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” She blinked as that statement hit her brain like a wild bull. “But why would he have killed his parents?”

“I don’t have an answer for that. You know there are holes in the original story he gave the police. Things don’t add up. And there are things in that file that were never released to the public. Not even you.”

She cocked her head. “You’ve been holding out on me all these years. I can’t believe this.”

“It’s standard police procedure. You know that.” Weston sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a puff. “Haven and I would have told you, and honestly, we don’t know what to make of the two pieces of information that don’t make sense.”

“Can you tell me now?”

“I’m going to, but you have to promise me that it stays between us.”

“Can I discuss it with Jett?” Jesus. Where the fuck did that come from? Okay. Jett did have a unique brain. And his ability to strip emotion out of everything would be helpful.

Not to mention he was technically her boyfriend.

And not a fake one at this point either.

“I’ll grant you that,” Weston said. “As you know, gunshots were reported in the middle of the night that your father states he slept through. The neighbors, whom we can’t question again because one is deceased and the other is in the same boat as your uncle, told the police they believed it came from inside your grandparents’ home.”

“That’s a given.”

Weston nodded. “But the same neighbors also told us they saw Cooper Wilks’ pickup early that morning in your grandfather’s driveway. They said they were going to get the paper.”

“What was Cooper doing there?”

“Thing was, they told the cops that it wasn’t Cooper, but Hannah.”

“All this does is perpetuate the concept that my grandfather killed his wife and ran off with Hannah.”

“Then we have to ask ourselves, why did he kill Hannah?” Weston held up his hand. “But this is why the cops never released that information. Cooper’s truck was never reported missing because it was back in his driveway before he even got out of bed.”

“Cooper never had an alibi for any of this.”

“He was never really a suspect, and he passed the residue test.” Weston arched a brow. “There’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The reason your father was questioned so hard was because the police found a pair of bloody sneakers by the back door. They belonged to your dad. His statement was that he found his mother. Dropped to his knees. Got blood all over him. Tried to see if she was alive and then raced out the door. He was barefoot and wearing pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.”

“I know about the sneakers. He said he tripped over them.”

Weston nodded. “That’s the story. But to be honest, those sneakers look as though someone stepped through blood while wearing them.”

“Are you saying my father’s a suspect in both his mother and Hannah’s murders?”

“He’s officially a person of interest,” Weston said. “But we also still have a missing man. What happened to your grandfather? Because you already told me that the woman who was found on that trail was in her thirties. Hannah was thirty-four when she went missing. She could have been murdered that morning. So could have your grandfather.”

“Or he could have killed both his wife and… yeah. That doesn’t make sense. Why would he kill both wife and lover?” She grabbed a wad of hair and twisted it, letting her forensic mind take over, shoving aside the fact that this was her family. Her father. “But why would my dad kill all of them? What’s his motive? And he was fucking fourteen years old.”

“That’s a tough one. If your grandpa was having an affair with Hannah, I get murdering those two, but not your grandma.”

“Unless she somehow wound up as collateral damage.”

“Or maybe it was Hannah? Maybe she stumbled in on something that morning when she showed up? Hannah and your grandma were close.”

“Yeah, but when was she seen at my grandparents’ house?”

“Five in the morning,” Weston said.

“What would she be doing there that early?”

“I don’t know, but I will be asking Cooper that question.”

“Jesus, this is a clusterfuck.” She folded her arms across her chest. Her dad was many things. A liar. A cheat. He could be distant and cold sometimes, but throughout her childhood, she remembered him as being a good dad. A present father.

He couldn’t be a murderer.

She shivered.

“When are you bringing in my dad?” she asked.

“Haven’s heading there now, but please don’t go warning him. Or anyone else in your family. I didn’t have to tell you any of this.” Weston lowered his chin and gave her his best cop look. It was menacing, but it made her chuckle.

“I won’t. You have a job to do, and I want answers. I want the truth, but please, keep me in the loop.”

“I’ll call you later.” He squeezed her arm.

She patted her back pocket. Shit, her phone was in her bag in the lab. She needed—wanted—to text Jett. She needed someone who would understand and be there without judgment. Someone who wouldn’t coddle her. Or tell her stupid things, like everything was going to be okay. Or that he was sure her father hadn’t done it. Or the cops had it all wrong.

She wasn’t stupid.

She could see the reality.

She wanted to believe her father was innocent, and he probably was.

But this was damning.