Brock rolled his eyes. “I can make it home. The faster you get on that list, the better.”
True. Ryker grabbed his jacket and followed Brock through the office, where they checked in with Mrs. Thomson, and then outside into the freezing snow. He headed for his truck and waited until Brock had swung his Jeep around the corner. While the lawyer had said he was fine, he was barely functioning, so there was nothing wrong with following him to make sure he didn’t hit a building.
Ryker pulled his truck into the deserted street and followed the Jeep.
The lawyer drove slow but steady. Maybe he didn’t need a tail.
Ryker watched him for a couple more miles and then decided to turn off. Right as he was about to move, blue and red flashed behind him. He pulled over and tensed until he saw Detective Norton loping up his side of the car. “What now?” Ryker growled.
Norton shoved a gun in his face. “You’re under arrest, asshole.” He jerked open the door.
“Why?” Ryker kept his hands on the steering wheel.
“Accessory after the fact,” Norton said grimly, grabbing his arm.
Damn it all to hell. Ryker allowed the cop to pull him from the car, flip him around, and cuff him. “Based on what facts?”
Norton read him his rights. “Let’s get you booked and then we’ll have a nice chat in interrogation.” He pulled Ryker around and shoved him toward the car.
The detective was trying to mess with their heads, but Ryker didn’t have much of a choice unless he wanted a manhunt on his ass. So he trudged through the snow and let Norton shove him into the backseat. His butt hit cold vinyl, and he scooted over. The door slammed.
Norton got inside and slowly pulled the car into the street.
Wait a minute. “Where’s your partner, Detective?” Ryker asked.
“Gathering information on you, dickhead,” Norton returned evenly, his brown eyes concentrating on him in the rearview mirror. “I know you assisted Ms. Remington, but she’s the one I really want for this. Tell me where the package is, and I’ll let you out right here.”
Package? Ryker felt along the cuffs. Nice and tight. Something wasn’t right. “What package?”
“I am so tired of you assholes.” Norton turned down a tree-lined street.
Ryker studied the buildings surrounding them, his body settling into attack mode, his mind going clear and ready. “The police station is the other way.”
“Yeah. It is.” Norton made another turn. “Where’s the diary?”
Ryker’s analytical side clicked facts into place. Oh, so not good. “What diary?”
“Julie’s. She had one, and I know she sent it to Zara. Where the hell is it?”
Julie’s mystery man. The detective? Ryker hadn’t seen it coming—not even close. “You planted the knife.” Ryker tugged on the handcuffs, but there was absolutely no give. How had he missed this? He usually read people better. His personal life was fucking with his abilities.
“Yep.” Norton shook his head. “I tried to keep you and Zara out of this, but the diary never showed up. You took care of the guys I sent to fetch her, and you’ve left me few options. I’ve searched her house several times, so it must be at your place. Right?”
The package that Zara had received. The one in his glove box. “Yep.” Ryker calculated the odds of getting loose without getting shot, and they sucked. His body vibrated from a rush of adrenaline. “We picked up a bunch of Zara’s mail, and a nice small package was included. She probably hasn’t even opened it yet. I think it’s on my desk.”
“Good.” Norton took another turn.
Ryker fought the urge to kick the back of the detective’s seat. “Did you mess with the brakes on Zara’s car?”
Norton frowned. “Yes. Thought she saw me with Julie, and when I started investigating, I discovered she hadn’t.”
Anger roared through Ryker so quickly he did kick the back of the seat. “I’m going to fucking rip off your head and reach down to rip out your lungs.”
Norton winced. “She was fine, right? God. No offense, but you should probably worry about yourself right now.”
Oh, the cop had no clue who he’d just pissed off. “You’re a dead man,” Ryker spat.
Norton turned right. “If you say so. Where’s your office?”
Ryker gave the directions. He’d have backup at the office.
Norton went in the opposite direction.
“What the hell?” Ryker asked.
Norton flashed a smile and grabbed his phone.
*
Zara stomped snow from her boots just inside the garage. Arrested. She’d actually been arrested. There would be a trial. “I just don’t understand who would plant that knife,” she stuttered. Again.
Heath pushed out of his coat. Anger vibrated around him and had since he’d heard that the airport was still closed. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”
Zara’s phone dinged, and she lifted it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Ms. Remington? This is Detective Norton. Don’t say a word and don’t let anybody know who I am.”