“I’m at the office, and I think I have a lead on Pentley’s case. Zara’s being set up. Can you drop by?” Brock asked.
Ryker sat up. “What kind of lead? Did you hear about Zara?”
“Yeah, and that’s partly why I’m calling. I have some information here, and I need help going through it. It’s odd, and, well…” Brock ruffled papers. “There’s a pattern here, but I might be just trying to help Zara. I’m not sure.”
Ryker stood. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He’d go insane just sitting and waiting for Zara to return and the weather to clear, so he might as well figure things out. He clicked off. “I’ll be at the law firm,” he told Denver. In fact, they hadn’t had a chance to grab Zara’s things from her office, so he’d do that for her, too. One less thing for her to worry about. “Call me the second Zara and Heath get back.”
“Yep.”
“Would you go check on Greg and Grams?” Ryker asked.
“Yep.” Denver rubbed his bloodshot eyes and stood, then gracefully strode from the room.
Ryker watched him go, unease settling in his gut. Denver hadn’t been right since they’d relocated, and maybe the best thing was to force him back to Alaska to face his past. Something to think about another day, however. Ryker jogged through the office and down to his truck, rushing into the swirling snowstorm and fairly empty streets.
He slid through several intersections before reaching the law firm and parking out front. The snow battled him as he made his way to the main entrance and shoved inside, stomping up the stairs to the office.
Mrs. Thomson smiled at him. “Go on back to the smaller conference room, Ryker. Brock is waiting for you.” She peered through her thick glasses. “Tell him to take a break and grab some lunch, would you? That boy worked all through the night and hasn’t eaten.”
Ryker nodded and hustled past her, down the hallway, and to the small conference room.
Papers littered the table, and piles of them were perched on the chairs. Brock hunched over more papers, mumbling to himself.
Ryker shut the door behind himself. “Dude. You need sleep.”
Brock looked up, his eyes twice as bloodshot as Denver’s had been. “Somebody is pulling the strings here, and I don’t like it. Have a seat.”
Ryker’s chest compressed. He lifted a bunch of papers off the nearest seat and set them on the floor. “What’s going on?”
Brock scrambled through a stack and shoved a piece toward Ryker. “At first, I thought Jay Pentley was somehow involved in his wife’s death, but now I think there’s somebody else pulling all the strings.”
“Why?” Ryker asked, taking the paper.
“Because after the break-in the other night, I put men on Zara’s place. We keep a rotating security firm on retainer.” Brock looked around and grabbed a coffee cup, frowning into its empty bottom.
Ryker stilled. “You had a detail on her place?”
“Yeah.” Brock set the empty cup down and grimaced. “I figured the break-in might have something to do with one of our cases, most likely the Pentley divorce, and I wanted to know what was going on. Plus, if Zara stayed there, I wanted her protected.”
The guy really liked her, now, didn’t he? “Wait a minute. If there were men watching the house—”
“Exactly. Nobody got in, Ryker. Which means that the knife was planted…”
“During the search.” Ryker sat back, his mind reeling. “One of the cops?”
Brock nodded. “Yeah. That’s a list of the officers and detectives on the scene. I called in a favor. A couple of them, really, in order to get that list. You have the resources to track the names.” His hand shook when he patted the papers in front of him. “These are all my current cases that Zara is working on, and I’ve been going through them to look for leads on the off chance this isn’t related to the Pentley case. Haven’t found anything yet.”
Shit. Zara was at the police station. Ryker grabbed his phone and quickly texted Heath. The returned text relaxed his lungs. “Zara made bail, and Heath is taking her to my place now.” He quickly texted the most recent info and a request to lock down their building for safety.
AFFIRMATIVE was the response.
Good. All right. Ryker narrowed his gaze at the lawyer. “You need food and sleep, Brock. At least food.”
Brock grimaced. “A shower wouldn’t hurt, either. I’ll head home, and you track down those names and see what you find. We’ll touch base later today?” He stood and swayed.
Ryker shoved to his feet and tried to calm the nervous energy ripping him in two. “How about I drop you at your place on the way to my office? You’re in no condition to drive.” While he didn’t like the guy’s interest in Zara, Brock was trying to help.