Page 40 of Ice Cold Liar (Ice Breaker Cold Case #14)

Chapter Twenty-One

“Declan got the files you needed.”

Eb glanced over at Hunter’s low voice. He and Naomi were in the kitchen—she’d been making eggs and grits, and he’d been trying to keep his hands off her so she could complete the task.

Hunter had just strode into the room.

Henry spared Hunter a brief glance and then went right back to watching Naomi. The Golden Retriever seemed to be hoping she might drop something delicious.

“He sent them to me a few minutes ago.” Hunter held a laptop in his hand.

“Didn’t open them because they’re both your former partner’s files and your own files.

Maybe I’m just an amazingly nice individual, but I don’t like to just barge up in other people’s business.

” His brows rose. “Even though other people clearly don’t have a problem screaming shit for me to hear. ”

Eb could actually feel his cheeks heating.

Hunter placed the laptop on the table. “All you have to do is click the files.” He turned toward Naomi. “Did you make enough for me? Tell me you did. Friends share food with friends.”

“Of course, I made enough. You were fighting a biker gang for me last night. Did you seriously think I wouldn’t give you breakfast?”

“It’s lunch time,” he corrected her.

“Breakfast for lunch. Whatever. Pretty sure that’s called brunch. It’s a thing the world understands. Besides, these will be the best grits you’ve ever had.”

Eb headed for the laptop. He hauled out a chair and started to click Hudson’s file. Then he glanced over at Naomi. “Don’t you want to see what’s on here?”

Her eyebrows did a fast and cute wiggle. “Thought I wouldn’t have the government clearance for something like that.”

Hunter snorted. “We got these files in a majorly less than legal way. Trust me, none of us have clearance.”

“Then…hell, yes. Help yourself, Hunter. Everything is done.” She tossed aside a spoon she’d just grabbed and rushed to huddle over Eb’s shoulder.

He opened the files that Declan had obtained. Scrolled through them with his breath practically held. Psych evaluations that showed…

Nothing.

No red flags. No beige flags. No flags at all for Hudson.

Nothing at all out of the ordinary. Just descriptors and notes indicating that Hudson was highly intelligent, that he had strong empathy traits.

That he could promote team growth and had a positive mindset and a ton of potential and was leadership material.

“Well, that’s a lot of absolute bullshit,” Naomi muttered. “Either Hudson was conning the shrinks, too, or this is just straight lies.”

Eb opened his own psych evals…

Narcissistic personality. Manipulative. Arrogant. Aggressive tendencies. Lack of empathy.

“I’m fucking charming,” he growled.

“You are,” she agreed. “And that’s wrong.”

No, he didn’t think it was. But?—

Hunter’s phone beeped.

Eb glanced over in time to see Hunter check the screen.

“Company.” A despondent sigh before Hunter shoveled grits and eggs into his mouth. “Of the police variety.”

Great.

“Looks like our favorite detective is beelining fast for the front of the house.” Hunter pocketed the phone. “I bet he’s here to tell us all how wrong he was. To offer his deepest, most sincere apologies.”

Eb highly doubted that and his snort said as much.

“By the way, the grits are fantastic,” Hunter told Naomi.

But they left the breakfast and all hurried for the front door. They went outside and watched as the detective parked. Henry was right at Naomi’s side, and her fingers stroked lightly over his forehead.

Eb and Hunter took up positions near her. Protective positions. Eb was not in the mood to play around with the detective. He had a brunch waiting. He hadn’t even gotten to try the grits yet.

The detective slammed his car door. He advanced toward the porch. Paused and looked up at them all. His chin notched high as Clark announced, “We have a confession.”

Eb blinked. Well, well, Madeline had certainly been working fast. He was surprised that she hadn’t called to tell him the news. Why send the detective?

Clark exhaled heavily. He waved his hand toward Eb.

“Brock Arison confessed earlier. Your, ah, former boss? Madeline Desalt got the confession from him.” That hand angled toward Naomi.

“He set the fire at your place. Brock swears he was acting on orders from Ivan. Only he got the idea that maybe he should stop taking orders once he was at your home. The man saw an opportunity. He took it. And by that, I mean…Brock took your bat. He attacked his boss. Killed him and then thought he could blame the death on you.” His hand fell as he glanced around the yard.

“Brock figured he could take you out. Act like he was getting vengeance. Then he’d walk away as the new leader of the gang.

” His attention shifted back to the front porch.

“Madeline told me that Brock also…he confessed to killing Hudson.”

Naomi bounded down the steps. “ What? ”

“I’m…sorry,” Clark muttered.

“Holy shit.” Hunter seemed stunned. “Can I predict the future now? Is that what’s happening?”

Eb elbowed him.

“Ivan and Hudson were working some kind of deal. I don’t have specifics on it.” Clark sniffed. “According to Madeline, it’s above my pay grade.”

Yeah, that sounded like Madeline. And the details probably were above his pay grade. Classified CIA intel.

“Brock found out about it. Got pissed at being left out. So he knifed Hudson.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re clear, Naomi. I’m sorry that I…hell, I’m just used to everyone being guilty. You see guilt day in and day out, and you forget that some people actually are innocent.”

Naomi shook her head. “It’s…I…are you saying…it’s all over? Brock is being arrested and I’m…what? Clear? Safe now?” She snapped her fingers. “Like that?”

But Clark shook his head. “Brock isn’t being arrested.”

Eb’s stomach twisted. “Why not?”

“Because Brock Arison is dead. Dead men can’t go to jail.

” Clark took a step back. “Told Madeline I’d personally come and notify you while she’s handling the mess at the hospital.

You don’t need to hide out any longer. No one is hunting you.

The gang members who were part of the attack last night are being booked. You are free.”

Naomi raked a hand through her hair. “I just…” She stopped. Spun around and ran back up the steps. She grabbed Eb and hugged him. “I’m free!”

He hugged her back. Held her close. Eb could feel her happiness but something just—hell, it wasn’t sitting right with him.

Why was Hudson’s psych profile so clean?

He peered over her shoulder at Clark. The detective’s feet shuffled over the driveway.

Clark cleared his throat as he gestured vaguely toward his ride. “Gonna just need you to come down to the station and sign some paperwork, Naomi. Give official statements about what happened last night. You, ah, too, Eb. Will need you to both come.”

Naomi pulled back. She beamed up at Eb. “I’m not a killer.”

“No, baby.” His fingers skimmed under her jaw.

“Everyone will know now. I can get my reputation back. My life back. I won’t be the hated Wicked Widow any longer.”

No, she wouldn’t be. “You’ll get every dream you ever wanted.” Even as he said those words, Eb could hear Madeline like a ghost whispering in his mind…

Better get ready for her to leave you. It will happen as soon as she’s cleared.

We find the person who murdered Hudson, we lock that individual away, and you will never see Naomi again.

Sucks, I get it, but that’s life. In particular, that’s our life.

You know no one at the Agency ever really gets a happy ending in this world.

We lie to everyone, even the people we want to love.

He didn’t expect a happy ending. Not for himself. But he absolutely wanted Naomi to be happy. Eb would do whatever it took in order to ensure her happiness.

“Naomi, why don’t you ride in the car with me?

” Clark offered. He moved back his hand, and the holster on his belt shifted slightly.

Clark wore a wrinkled suit coat over a white polo.

Khaki pants. It wasn’t particularly hot—certainly not nearly as hot and humid as it could get in Baton Rouge—but Clark was definitely sweating.

“Eb and his, uh, buddy over there can follow behind us.”

“Name’s Hunter,” his buddy announced clearly. “Pretty sure I’ve told you that before, Detective Anderson.”

Naomi edged away from Eb.

He caught her hand because she was not going to be edging too far away.

“I think Madeline wants to talk with you, Eb.” Clark sniffed. His hands had fallen back to his sides. “You might want to put a call in to her. Like I said, I’ll take Naomi into town and get her to fill out some paperwork. You can follow behind once you tie up your loose ends here.”

Eb didn’t move. “Naomi was in the middle of her meal. I’ll drive her to the station when she’s done eating.”

Clark backed up a step. He squinted against the sunlight.

“I have orders. I am supposed to bring her in to the station.” He offered Naomi a weak smile.

“They might not be the freshest donuts, but I can tell you we are well stocked at the station. You can get donuts and coffee, and we’ll take care of closing this case. Giving you back your life.”

Naomi nodded. She took a step toward him.

“Nope.” Eb pulled her right back. Tension had crept through his veins.

I came out of the safe house without a weapon.

Because Hunter had only seen the detective approaching.

It hadn’t seemed like a situation where Eb would need to grab his gun.

“I’ll drive Naomi after we finish eating.

Won’t take long. We’ll meet you at the station. ” Flat. “See you soon.”

Clark’s mouth tightened.

“I don’t understand!” Naomi tilted her head to the right. “How exactly did Brock die? He didn’t seem to have life-ending injuries when he was here.”

“Just had a hole in his damn hand,” Hunter added. “Shouldn’t have killed him.”

Clark swiped away the sweat on his brow. “He broke free of his cuffs. Tried to grab a scalpel and attack Madeline.”

Sonofabitch.

“She stopped him.” Fast words. They tumbled from Clark. “The scalpel wound up in his throat. Docs couldn’t save him. But at least Madeline and her team got his confession first.” Clark’s stare darted over Naomi. “I can’t give you that ride? Sure would make things easier if you just came with me.”

The detective was trying way too hard to get Naomi in his car. Like that didn’t set off alarm bells. Deliberately, Eb stepped in front of Naomi. “I have her.”

Clark nodded. “Yeah, I see that.” An exhale. “Sorry, again. Wish things could have been different…” He turned away. Shuffled for his car.

“Naomi, get inside,” Eb ordered softly. He didn’t take his gaze off the shuffling detective.

“What?” She seemed confused.

“Get inside, ” Eb barked.

Too late. The detective was already spinning around, and he’d snatched the gun from his holster. Eb knew the bastard was going to fire, and Eb didn’t have a weapon. Eb couldn’t throw his body to the side because he was the only thing standing between Naomi and the bullet.

At least it will hit me. She’ll be safe. She’ll be ? —

Boom.

Boom.

Two shots.

Eb was staring straight at Clark so he saw when the bullet slammed into the detective’s chest. Blood seemed to explode from the guy, soaking the white shirt beneath his open coat, and Clark’s whole body jolted.

The gun he’d been aiming at Eb flew a few inches to the left, so when he fired, the bullet went wide and scraped a fiery path over Eb’s upper arm.

Naomi screamed. Henry howled.

And the detective tumbled back and hit the ground.

Eb bounded down the porch steps. The gun had fallen, and he picked it up, aiming at it at the moaning cop. “You sonofabitch!” His hold tightened on the weapon. The detective’s white shirt was almost completely red. That fast. Shit. “Call an ambulance!” he roared.

Footsteps pounded behind him. He looked back. Hunter was there, with his gun still gripped in his hand. Well, at least one of them had been prepared.

“Who’s your best friend in the world?” Hunter demanded.

Obviously, it would be the brutal bastard who’d just saved his life—and Naomi’s life. “Best friend forever,” Eb promised.

“You can thank me later,” Hunter told Eb.

Yeah, he would.

“Why the hell did you pull the gun on us?” Eb asked Clark.

But the detective wasn’t talking. He was far too busy bleeding out.