she knew something was terribly wrong. More than just the gunfire they’d experienced had caused such a drastic change in her daughter.
But what?
Miles kept an eye on the road behind him, making sure there wasn’t anyone following them as he drove through the night. The hour wasn’t that late, so there was more traffic than he would have liked, forcing him to make several turns, heading in a zigzag pattern to the Ravenswood Motel, a place he’d learned about a few months ago when his older brother, Marc, had hidden out there with a witness. A witness that he’d ended up marrying just a month ago.
As happy as he was for Marc, no way was he going down that same path. Serious relationships were not for him.
Pulling his thoughts back to the situation at hand, Miles tried to put the puzzle pieces of his case together. Jason’s body had been found in a Dumpster a few minutes before three o’clock in the morning, after succumbing to injuries from a gunshot wound to the chest. The only person Jason had seemed to have issues with was his boss, Travis Olson. Miles had gone to Sci-Tech first, but had been told that Travis wasn’t there. He’d gone to Olson’s condo, but he hadn’t been there, either. So he’d dug into Travis Olson’s background, finding out about his ex-wife, Paige, and their daughter, Abigail. So he’d headed over, only to find Travis’s ex caught in the middle of an ambush.
Coincidence? Not likely, although it would be nice to have ballistics prove a connection. Maybe the slugs they’d find in Paige’s house would match the type that had been used on Jason.
But why shoot at the woman and child in the first place? That was another link he couldn’t ignore.
He wasn’t going to allow anything to happen to an innocent woman and her child, so if that meant bypassing normal police procedures, then fine. Their safety had to come first.
“Miles?” Paige’s voice was soft, tentative.
“Yes?” He met her gaze in the rearview mirror.
“When do you think I’ll be able to take Abby home?”
He grimaced and shook his head. “Not anytime soon, unfortunately. Once the crime scene techs have finished gathering evidence, you can authorize the repairs to the windows, but that’s it. You can’t return until we know who’s after you and why.”
“Don’t you think it might be a mistake? That maybe some other house was the real target?” There was a thin thread of hope in her voice, one that he didn’t like having to destroy with the blunt truth.
“No, I don’t.” He wished there was something to say to make her feel better. “How much do you know about your husband’s work at Sci-Tech?”
“Ex-husband,” she corrected tersely. “Not a lot. I know he’s involved in artificial intelligence, but he didn’t confide in me about the specifics. In fact, he always made a point to remind me that his work is highly confidential.”
Highly confidential? That’s exactly what Jason Whitfield had told him when he’d asked about what he was working on. Was it possible Sci-Tech was doing classified work for the government?
“How long have you been divorced?”
“Three years.” He caught a glimpse of her pale hand as she smoothed her palm over her daughter’s back.
“A lot can change in three years. Do you think his work is still considered highly confidential?”
She nodded, her lips pressing together in a thin line. “The last time we spoke, he said things were stressful at work because they were trying to solve a technical glitch in some sort of software that could revolutionize the artificial intelligence used to create artificial limbs and other medically necessary devices.”
Interesting. So, what had gone wrong? Why had Jason been murdered? His friend had mentioned stress at work, too, but Miles thought he was speaking about his issues with his boss, not the actual work itself. Miles needed more information on Sci-Tech, but so far all his efforts to glean more had been in vain. He’d spent hours calling around the company, asking to speak to various team leaders, only to be completely stonewalled.
So far, Travis Olson and Sci-Tech were the only two links between Jason’s murder and the gunshots at Paige’s house.
“Why do you keep asking about my ex-husband?”
He swallowed hard, trying to think of how much to tell her. “Have you heard the name Jason Whitfield?”
Paige frowned. “It sounds familiar, but I can’t be sure.”
He wasn’t surprised. Since she’d been divorced from Travis for three years, he doubted they spoke about things related to his job anymore. “He worked for your ex-husband at Sci-Tech.”
“Worked?” She’d picked up on his use of past tense. “Did he quit?”
“Jason was found shot to death early this morning. I’m a homicide detective investigating his murder.”
She sucked in a harsh breath. “And you think the same gunman came to my house looking for Travis?”
He didn’t answer right away, because she had a point. Just because Travis and Jason hadn’t gotten along didn’t mean that Olson killed his buddy. Paige could have nailed the truth that someone else was after both Jason and Travis. Either way, something strange was obviously going on.
“I’m not sure,” he answered truthfully. “I was hoping your ex-husband would be able to give me more information. How’s Abby?” he asked, changing the subject. He turned right and caught a glimpse of the sign for the Ravenswood Motel.
“Sleeping.” Her brow furrowed. “I’m worried about her, though.”
He didn’t know anything about kids, had avoided serious entanglements after watching his girlfriend, Dawn Ebbe, die of leukemia right after college. She’d suffered for a long time, dying far too young. His heart had ached for her, wishing there was more he could do to help, but she’d slipped away in her sleep, leaving him feeling sad, frustrated, angry and alone.
From that moment on, he’d decided to live his life to the fullest, the way Dawn had tried to do before she became so sick and weak she couldn’t move around on her own. His goal was to enjoy life, without getting seriously involved.
His phone rang, and he used the hands-free function to answer it. “Callahan.”
“Miles? This is Detective Lisa Krantz.”
He tried to place her in his memory. Oh, yeah, he remembered now, she was a tall blonde, with a brand-new gold shield. “Detective, what’s up?”
“There’s been a break-in at your house. The place has been tossed, as if someone was looking for something.”
“When?”
“One of the neighbors called it in about fifteen minutes ago, and there happened to be a uniform in the area. I stopped by to take a look, but I have another call so I’m heading across town now. I figured you’d want to know.”
