Page 37

“Aren’t you hot in that getup?”

Max’s grandmother Paulette had already suggested three times that he strip down. The two of them were at the retirement village, eating takeout from Paulette’s favorite Indian restaurant.

“I’m fine,” Max told her again. He’d borrowed TJ’s motorcycle and gear for a ride that afternoon, ending with an early dinner at Paulette’s.

At her home, he’d removed the heavy armored jacket but not the pants and protective boots.

He wore a pair of jeans under the Kevlar motorcycle pants, but it was easier to leave the pants on and not deal with having to take off the boots first.

“You look uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, shifting in the bulky gear. Paulette’s little house was about ten degrees warmer than any sane person’s home, and with the temperature, gear, and spicy food, he was having a moment of regret, but he wasn’t about to let her know.

“I appreciate you bringing dinner,” Paulette said. “How long are you in town?”

“Tomorrow we’re going to review what we’ve recorded so far, but we have a couple more interviews on Monday. Hopefully we’ll be finished by Tuesday.”

“This afternoon the entire village was talking about the FBI being here. Daisy Swanson was practically a celebrity.” A tiny hint of jealousy filled her tone.

Max fought back a smile. His grandmother loved being the center of attention.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you I was going to be there.

” She’d been in the small crowd that had gathered in the clubhouse while Max and Keaton finished their interviews in the adjacent room.

He’d stepped out of the room and immediately locked eyes with his grandmother.

She’d been surprised to see him and then narrowed her gaze at him.

He was in trouble.

“I was going to call you before I got to town,” he’d told her as the curious residents swarmed him and Keaton. “But I didn’t know if I’d have any free time,” he’d finished lamely. “How about I bring you dinner tonight?”

She’d accepted graciously. Probably because they had an audience.

“Daisy seems like a nice woman,” Max said. “I’m sure people had a lot of questions for you once they realized you and I were related.”

“Most of them asked, ‘Why didn’t you know your grandson was here?’”

Max sighed, not surprised she wasn’t finished with her little jabs of punishment. “Again. Sorry about that.” He deeply loved his grandmother, but she had been always slow to forgive.

“Daisy wouldn’t tell me why she was interviewed,” Paulette said deliberately, raising an eyebrow at him. Clearly she hoped that his guilt would earn her an answer about his work.

“You know I can’t talk about that,” Max told her. “But I can say it’s got nothing to do with Daisy. We were here to see if she could shine some light on a situation.”

“She’s got a good heart,” Paulette admitted.

“I like her, but she keeps trying to match me up with Alan Platt. Claims we’d keep each other company.

” His grandmother shook her head and glared at the rice on her fork.

“I don’t need company. I’ve got loads of friends here.

Plenty of people to talk to. And besides, your grandfather was the only man for me.

Always will be.” Her voice softened as she spoke of her husband, who’d passed three years ago.

“The two of you were legendary,” said Max, not exaggerating. His grandparents had been deeply in love until the day death separated them. Their marriage represented his relationship goals.

They’d had a sense of joy that he also saw in TJ and Keira’s marriage. Envy surged when he was around them.

I’m almost forty.

He’d come close to marriage ten years ago. But she’d been offered a promotion on the East Coast, and he hadn’t wanted to move away. There’d been hard feelings on both sides, and the relationship had quickly crumbled, making him realize that they weren’t right for each other after all.

Soon after that he worried that he’d become too comfortable still living in his hometown and working in the Medford Police Department, so he took a leap and applied to the FBI.

As he arrived at Quantico for training, he acknowledged the irony in the fact that he was standing on the East Coast. Apparently he had been ready for a big change but not ready for marriage.

“Your grandfather was an amazing man,” said Paulette, a wistful look in her eyes. “I was lucky.”

“You both were,” said Max.

Twenty minutes later he kissed her on the cheek and escaped the overly warm apartment.

Outside in the cool air, he glanced at the sky, estimating he had a half hour of light left to ride, and was glad that Paulette liked to eat early.

He never rode in the dark unless it was absolutely necessary.

Max zipped up the heavy jacket as he admired the bike.

He’d taken it for a good run before picking up dinner and was ready to go again.

“Agent Rhodes?”

He’d been about to slip on the helmet but turned to find Noelle Marshall studying him, amusement in her eyes. She wore jeans and a heavy coat with a fuzzy collar. And cowboy boots, he noted in surprise. In her hands was a to-go bag from the same Indian restaurant.

Dinner for Daisy.

“Detective.” Max nodded at her. “Visiting Daisy?”

“I am. I assume you saw your grandmother.” She tipped her head, taking in the motorcycle. “Did you ride this from Sacramento?” she asked in a teasing tone.

He grinned. “No. But I have before. Well ... not on this bike, but I’ve made the ride on my own. This one is my brother-in-law’s.” He liked the lightness in her voice. He hadn’t heard it before.

Because she’s not being grilled at the moment.

“Do you ride?” he asked.

Her brows shot up. “No. Never been on one. Were you joking that you’ve ridden this far before?”

“Not a joke. I could easily do that distance in a day with a break or two. And that would be taking back roads. I avoid riding on the freeway. Freeways are dull.”

“Aren’t all roads dull?”

“That question confirms that you’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

It took her a second to follow his logic. “You’re saying the motorcycle makes a difference?”

He couldn’t stop his smile. “Riding is like flying at ground level.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “That’s a good thing?”

It was impossible to explain; the only way to comprehend the joy was to experience it. “It’s completely different than a car ride. On a bike you’re part of the environment ... you’re constantly involved. You move and react with what’s around you. And the sky is wide open.”

“I’m sure it’s nice.”

Nice?

“You need a ride,” he said in all seriousness. “Then you’ll understand.”

Noelle took a half step back. “No, thank you.” She lifted her bag of food. “I’ve got a date.”

“Tonight’s not a good time,” he said. “But I think you should ride with me before I leave. Just a quick one. My sister’s gear would fit you,” he said. “She’s tall.”

She blinked at him.

I think I just crossed a professional line.

“I’d take you just so you’d understand,” he added quickly, knowing it sounded lame. “Seriously. Everyone needs to experience it at least once. It’ll make you want your own bike.”

“I doubt that,” she said with a little laugh. “But I appreciate your offer.” Her smile was sincere.

Max caught his breath. Detective Marshall with a genuine smile was a stunning sight. During yesterday’s interviews he’d thought her dark eyes were brown, but now, in the waning outdoor light, they were actually a dark blue. The same color as her coat.

Back off. She’s a witness.

Or is she a suspect?

Either way, Max needed to keep things professional. And getting her on the back of a motorcycle with her arms wrapped around his waist wouldn’t be professional.

But it’s just a ride. An education.

“I’m heading in before Daisy’s food gets cold,” said Noelle. “You’ll let me know when you need to talk to me again?”

For the briefest second, he thought she meant talk more about that motorcycle ride.

She meant another interview.

Mentally kicking himself, he adjusted the helmet in his hands. “I will. Have a good night.” He turned and started to slip it on.

“Agent Rhodes?”

He spun back around, pulling off the helmet. “Yes?”

She’d taken a few steps away, but judging by her frown, she had something else to say.

“Derrick’s brother showed up at the sheriff’s department to talk to me today.” Her words were hesitant, as if she was reluctant to share the information.

Max sifted his memory for a name. “Jason Bell? What did he want? Why is he in town?” The previous week, he and Keaton had interviewed Jason.

The man had been adamant that the FBI needed to look closer at Noelle and her first husband.

Max had immediately picked up on his strong dislike for Noelle.

Further questions to understand Jason’s accusations had revealed little evidence.

A banking transaction and his disbelief about Noelle’s memory loss were his primary reasons.

The interview with Jason had left a sour taste in Max’s mouth.

“He claims he came to tell me to share the truth with the FBI.” Frustration filled her tone. “He was an ass. He’s always been an ass. I had a deputy escort him out of the building.”

“Did you tell the FBI the truth?” Max asked as he recalled Daisy’s comments about how Noelle had changed during the marriage and Noelle’s assertions about her love for her husband.

Noelle’s face went blank, and she looked at the ground. “Everything I told you was true,” she said softly. “But I may have stretched the truth about how I felt about Derrick near the end.”

Max said nothing, recalling how Daisy’s interview had made him question just how happy Noelle had been in her marriage.

She swallowed. “I was done with him—done with us. He’d changed from the man I fell in love with. He’d become a manipulative gaslighter and was always angry. I’d told Savannah I’d leave him.” She met his gaze. “But I didn’t kill him. I was going to walk away, but he died before I could.”

I want to believe her.

Daisy was right.

“What about his money?”

Distaste flickered in Noelle’s eyes. “I didn’t want it. I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself, as I’d done before we met.”

“Why didn’t you say this during our interview?”

“I’ve asked myself the same question. This may sound lame, but I spent years trying to present our marriage as picture perfect for the public.

He wanted to be in politics more than anything, and I believed that was how to support him.

I continued after he died. I didn’t dare say a word about how our marriage had crumbled.

It made things easier for me ... and for his family. ”

“You mean they would have eviscerated you in public if you’d revealed anything negative about Derrick or your marriage.”

“Correct. For my peace of mind, I stayed silent.”

“They did it in a passive-aggressive way instead. I read the reports. Jason didn’t even mention you during his eulogy at Derrick’s funeral.”

Noelle shrugged. “That’s how Jason is. I wanted you to know he’s in town.”

She’s acting nonchalant, but I can tell he’s upset her.

“He seems the type that likes to strong-arm people into agreeing with him.”

“He is.”

“Must have been a great brother-in-law.” He paused. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

I hope it’s the truth.

Noelle looked away. “I’ll let you go.” She lifted a hand as she turned toward the building. “See you,” she said over her shoulder.

“Good night.” Max watched her walk away. She was as elegant in cowboy boots and jeans as she was in spike heels and a suit. A confident woman.

Max wanted to believe her story, but she’d lied about it for a long time.

I’ve got to stay objective.