How long would she be looking over her shoulder for this man? Moving back to New Hampshire wouldn’t solve anything. He’d still be out there, and she’d still have to wonder when he’d jump out of the bushes again, when he’d call her in the middle of the night, when he’d leave her some creepy present.
What she had to do was find him.
She took two wrong turns on her way back to Rook’s house. Denial, she thought when she got there, raising her hand to knock on his front door. But it opened, and he stood there in jeans and a T-shirt, looking so damn handsome she had to give herself a mental slap. Falling for him all over again wouldn’t help her find her attacker.
“Save me any pizza?” she asked.
T.J. was at the kitchen table with Brian Rook, who immediately excused himself and headed upstairs. He referred to his uncle as Andrew. Not Andy or Drew – just Andrew – and Mackenzie supposed she’d gotten herself into a bad habit, calling him Rook.
He put a slice of pizza on a plate and handed it to her at the table. “It’s warm, not hot.”
“It’ll be fine. Thanks.”
T.J. pushed back his chair but didn’t get up. “We got hold of Cal Benton and talked to him. We’ll talk more tomorrow. He apologized for not giving Brian his name.”
“Did he say why he decided to stop here?” Mackenzie asked, taking a bite of her pizza. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. It seemed like a week ago that she, Juliet and Ethan had stopped for a quick bite before checking out house listings in semiaffordable neighborhoods.
“He said it didn’t occur to him that coming here would be a problem.” T.J. shrugged. “He was married to a federal judge. He didn’t think twice about knocking on Andrew’s door.”
“Was Brian unnerved?”
Rook came into the kitchen and shook his head, taking the chair between his partner and Mackenzie at the round table. “Brian doesn’t have nerves, I swear. He could have called his father or one of his other uncles – or me – if he was scared. He wasn’t.”
“Cal’s not a particularly scary guy. What did he want?”
The two men were silent. Finally, T.J. said, “Harris Mayer knocked on our door about a month ago insisting he could help us break open a case involving blackmail, extortion, fraud and bribery. Money exchanging hands illegally among rich Washington types. People threatened with exposure of secrets.”
“Threatened with violence?” Mackenzie asked.
Rook answered. “Harris hasn’t indicated violence is a factor. We’ve met a few times, but he’s always vague. It’s been hard to gauge whether he just wants to be part of the action again and is making up stuff to get our attention, or if he’s for real.”
“He likes pulling people’s strings,” T.J. added. “Pulling our strings – he knows we’re not going to hurt him. That doesn’t mean someone else won’t.”
“If whoever’s behind the blackmail and whatnot realized he was talking to the FBI…” Mackenzie didn’t finish; she didn’t need to. “A good reason to disappear. What’s Cal’s involvement?”
“We don’t know,” Rook said. “He and Harris met through Judge Peacham and have gotten together a few times in recent months. By itself, that’s nothing. Put it together with everything else that’s gone on in the past week, and who knows.”
Mackenzie thought a moment, pictured the man leaping out of the brush next to Bernadette’s shed. His colorless, soulless eyes. “Do you think my guy – the man who attacked me and presumably left me the little gift on my porch steps – is part of this blackmail and extortion scheme?”
Rook’s gaze stayed on her, but T.J. was the one who spoke. “We don’t know.”
“Bernadette?”
“The same,” T.J. said.
“I’ve known Beanie Peacham all my life, and I can remember Harris coming to the lake with his wife and kids when I was nine or ten. I attended Beanie and Cal’s wedding.” Mackenzie sighed, no longer in the mood for pizza. “Well, Rook, no wonder you dumped me.”
She thought she saw T.J. smile, but he quickly got to his feet. “I wish we could have happened along tonight just as this SOB was leaving that knife and flower for you, Mackenzie. Whether he’s mixed up with our business with Harris or not, the guy’s a creep. We’ll get him.”
“Damn straight.” Mackenzie smiled. “Thanks, T.J. Maybe the neighbors saw something that’ll help. The house is tucked back on the property, but – well, who knows. I’m just glad Sarah wasn’t there.”
At the mention of Nate’s wife, T.J. visibly gritted his teeth, his look sober. “A bunch of crazy-assed vigilantes tried to take Sarah out in the spring. Something about that house, I swear. Time to improve security there, if you ask me.”
Mackenzie remembered the uproar in the spring. Nate, Juliet Longstreet and undercover marshals from California had been involved. She’d just started her training and couldn’t wait to get her first duty assignment. But she said, “I don’t suppose security will help much with Sarah’s ghosts.”
T.J. rolled his eyes but managed a grin. “I’m out of here. See you two tomorrow.”