yards. And no other buildings were nearby. Just a huge concrete parking lot with weeds poking up through the cracks.
Using slow, cautious steps, Seth started toward the building but came to a quick stop when he heard an engine. The road wasn’t exactly on the beaten path, so he waited and watched as the dark blue car came around the curve.
The driver hit the brakes.
Seth took a closer look. Then he cursed. What the devil was she doing here?
He intended to find out.
No one had ever accused him of having a friendly face when he was on the job, and Seth put on his best scowl when he walked toward Shelby Braddock’s car. She didn’t wait for him to reach her. She stepped out, her movements jerky and hurried, and she matched him scowl for scowl.
To say they were enemies would be like saying the ocean had a bit of water in it.
Shelby started toward him, the May breeze flying through her dark brown hair. “Why are you here?” she snapped.
“Why are you here?” Seth snapped right back.
And they stood there, both glaring and waiting for the other to answer first. To remind her that he was the one in charge here, Seth tapped his badge clipped to his belt.
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re pulling the FBI card on me? Well, it won’t work. I’m not leaving here until I have some answers.”
Seth didn’t normally have it in for investigative reporters. On occasion a few actually had helped the FBI with active cases. But he had it in for this particular one. Shelby was a thorn in his thorn-riddled side.
“Exactly what kind of answers are you hoping to get here?” he asked. And yeah, it sounded like an interrogation question that he would aim at a hostile suspect.
“Obviously the same answers you’re hoping to get.”
Seth’s scowl got worse. They had another staring match before Shelby huffed.
“I got an anonymous call, all right?” she grumbled finally. “The person said there was evidence here connected to your stepmother’s trial, and I wanted to find out if that was true.”
Well, hell. Seth hadn’t expected that answer. But it was true that his stepmother, Jewell, was just three days away from standing trial. For murder.
That didn’t help his churning stomach, either.
Jewell had been charged with killing her alleged lover twenty-three years ago. It’d taken all these years for the arrest to happen, and one of the main reasons for Jewell’s arrest was standing right in front of him.
Shelby.
She’d written dozens of scathing articles about what she called a police cover-up, and the articles had caught the eye of the new prosecutor, who’d reopened the case. The evidence had been retested, new evidence found.
And the new evidence all had pointed to his mother being a killer.
Seth was 1000 percent sure Jewell was innocent, but so far he’d had zero luck proving it.
Until now, that was. Maybe this was the break he needed if there was indeed something in the building.
“What kind of evidence?” Seth demanded.
Shelby lifted her hands, palms up. “That’s what I’m here to find out. Now, why are you here?”
Seth debated whether he should tell her, but there was no logical reason why she shouldn’t know, though he could think of a few petty ones. He decided to put the pettiness aside. For now. “I got a call from a CI who said there was possibly some evidence inside. I thought it might be connected to the black market baby ring.”
Her eyes widened. And Seth knew why. Both of them had received calls. His CI was as trustworthy as a criminal informant could be. Which meant the guy could be swayed by a buck or two. And Shelby’s contact had been anonymous. Yet the calls had brought them here together with the lure of something they both wanted—evidence.
That couldn’t be good.
“You should leave now,” Seth told her, and he turned to head back to the warehouse.
Of course, she didn’t leave. Shelby trailed right along behind him. “But what if there really is something inside connected to the murder investigation?” she asked.
“Then, I’ll find it and turn it over to the authorities.”
She huffed. Again, he knew why. Shelby likely thought he wouldn’t want to add any more nails to his stepmother’s coffin. But if he did indeed find something, he wouldn’t suppress it. Because if Jewell was truly innocent—and Seth had to believe she was—then the total package of evidence would exonerate her.
Seth had to hope that.
“This could be dangerous,” he reminded her.
He hadn’t figured that would get her running, and he was right. It didn’t. He’d read some of the articles she’d done, and Shelby wasn’t a runner. She did all sorts of risky, stupid things to get a story.
Except this wasn’t just about a story.
Because Jewell had been accused of murdering Shelby’s father, Whitt.
That made this personal for both of them, and even though it wouldn’t stop him from looking inside the warehouse, Seth knew it was never a good idea to mix personal stuff with business.
“I’m not leaving,” Shelby insisted.
Seth wanted to roll his eyes. “Then, at least stay behind me in case something goes wrong.”
Of course, she didn’t do that, either. Shelby got in step along beside him. So close that he caught her scent.
Something girlie.
Or maybe womanly was the right word.
It was some kind of shampoo mixed with something natural. Something that reminded him that Shelby was a woman and not merely a neck he’d sometimes like to wring.
Seth decided to ignore her and her scent so he could get on with his job. The sooner he did that, the sooner he could figure out if there was something to find and then get the heck out of there.
The front door to the warehouse was wide-open, but Seth didn’t go there. Instead, he went to one of the windows that dotted the exterior. The glass was filmy and cracked, but he looked inside. Then he cursed under his breath.
It was too dark to see anything.
That meant going inside without the benefit of knowing if someone was lurking there, ready to attack.
“If someone shoots at us,” Seth snarled, “at least show some common sense and get down so you don’t get your head blown off.”
He hadn’t meant that to scare her. Okay, he had. But as with his other attempts, she didn’t scare this time.
