own admission, he’d continued the funding long after he’d assuaged his grief with a string of generously endowed younger women.
The training center was one of the few reasons Finn tolerated his uncle. While his appreciation had a solid core of selfish motivation for the continued support of his precinct, a small corner of his heart liked the fact that Fenwick might have been a decent human being once upon a time.
Since he’d gotten Lotte as well as his entire department from the deal, Finn could hardly complain. But it did mean his uncle came calling a bit too often at police headquarters. His recent rant over the need to catch the Groom Killer had been a world-class tirade.
The fact that his uncle believed it was his niece and Finn’s cousin Demi Colton who was responsible, had added an uncomfortable edge to the proceedings. He knew how to deal with his uncle—he wasn’t a man who backed down easily before anyone—but the determined rant that Demi had gone so far off the edge she’d started killing men was a tough pill to swallow.
If asked, Finn would have said it was ludicrous. But after finding her necklace at the first crime scene and her name drawn in blood beside the body, he could hardly ignore what was in front of his face. Given her strong motive—she’d been engaged to Bo Gage before he’d dumped her for another woman he’d quickly proposed to—and the circumstantial evidence, Demi was their prime suspect. Yet the man who’d known her since she was an infant wanted to believe in her innocence.
The police chief had to work every angle, run down every lead and needed a great deal of objectivity. Especially with Demi on the run and seeming uncomfortably guilty when he’d questioned her after Bo Gage’s murder.
With their race toward answers lost, he gestured Lotte to follow him. It was time to head back to review the crime scene they’d abandoned—a celebration turned tragedy—to chase a murderer.
He still saw it in his mind—had already begun the mental walk through the details of the crime. The second groom lay outside the back door of the kitchen at the Circle T Steakhouse. The man had been murdered in the midst of his rehearsal dinner, his body discovered only when one of the line chefs had run outside for a quick break. The man’s scream had been heard all the way inside the restaurant and it had taken the foresight of the head chef to keep everyone away from the body. There was no way anyone could have helped Michael Hayden, even had they tried.
Not with a bullet hole seared clear through his heart and a black cummerbund shoved deep into his mouth.
* * *
Darby Gage patted the cushion beside her and tried to coax Penny onto the couch. Darby had lived in the same house with the stubborn female for the past two weeks and had been unsuccessful in getting Penny to share any common space. She refused to share the couch, the bed or even a small chaise longue on the back porch.
Since it was February in South Dakota, the chaise experiment hadn’t lasted long—it was too damn cold to sit waiting for a stubborn dog to join her on the rattan recliner—and Darby had taken some small measure of pride in the fact that she’d tried.
But enough was enough.
The German shepherd was the crown jewel in the dismal inheritance from her ex-husband and it was high time they came to some sort of grudging truce. Bo wasn’t coming back courtesy of the bullet in his chest and Darby was in charge now.
Which seemed to have no impact on Penny. None whatsoever. Nor had it stopped striking Darby with that strange combination of surprise and sadness.
Bo was really gone. And the manner of his death...
She still shuddered when she thought about how he’d been discovered, shot and left for dead, a tuxedo cummerbund shoved into his mouth. It was dark and macabre. She’d tried to avoid thinking about it, but that was difficult when you considered how the Red Ridge Gazette had run with a new story every day, each one more lurid than the last. Everything from Groom Killer on the Loose to Is the Groom Killer One of Red Ridge’s Own? had graced the paper’s headlines. More than that, it was as if a fever had gripped the town and no one could stop talking about it.
Was it a local like Demi Colton? The press had picked up on her as their favorite suspect and had been writing story after story on her background and her brief engagement to Bo before he’d dumped her for his new intended bride, Hayley Patton. Although she supposed anything was possible, as Bo’s former wife Darby could hardly understand a woman committing a crime of passion over the man.
He was good-looking in his own way, but she’d learned too quickly that he’d also used those good looks to coast by in life. He’d carried little responsibility, preferring to dump his troubles on others. And other than his dogs, there was little he’d seemed to truly care about.
In the end, it had been his cheating that had killed their marriage. She’d come to realize that even had he been faithful, theirs wasn’t a union that would have lasted. It had taken a while, but Darby had finally reached the point where she could accept that without the immense guilt that had initially accompanied the thought.
Which made her current circumstances all the more puzzling.
While she and Bo had ended things amicably enough two years ago, why had her ex seen fit to leave her his German shepherd breeding business? She knew and loved dogs—and she spent more than a few hours of each work week at the K-9 training center making a few extra dollars—but that didn’t make her a fit breeder. Neither had her fourteen-month marriage to Bo. He was a responsible breeder—he loved his dogs and he took good care of them—but she hadn’t involved herself in the business during their marriage.
Yet here she was. The new owner of Red Ridge’s premier breeding business for the town and the county’s K-9 units. They sold to assorted others besides the RRPD, but had a reputation to uphold with one of the state’s primary K-9 departments.
The PD down in Spearfish had attempted a K-9 unit of their own a few years back and had trained a few of Penny’s puppies. The cost of keeping the program had grown too much and they’d ultimately sold the dogs to a good security firm known for its excellent treatment and handling of their dogs.
Bo’s other customers, the Larson brothers, were also good for a few puppies in each litter. A fact that settled uncomfortably on her shoulders. It was unfair of her—they doted on their dogs and treated them well—yet something creeped her out about the way the twins, Noel and Evan Larson, strutted around Red Ridge like they owned the town and everyone in it. They’d been raised by their kindly grandmother, Mae, after losing their parents, and Darby knew she should cut them a break.
But she never liked when the Larson boys came around.
Penny’s light yip startled her and pulled Darby from her thoughts. The pretty German shepherd had dropped down to her belly, head on her front paws, and was even now staring at Darby.
“You don’t like the Larsons, either, do you?”
Penny’s dark eyes seemed to bore into hers. Even as she knew it was a silly thought, Darby could have sworn the dog agreed with her.
“You really can sit next to me. I won’t bite and I’d like to get to know you better.”
Penny’s gaze never wavered as she considered her from her spot across the rug. The couch wasn’t that comfortable, but Darby had to believe the threadbare carpet was even less so. She was still adjusting to her surroundings. She’d moved her few possessions in from the one-bedroom apartment she’d rented in town and the addition
