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It was a horrifying thought that Matt wasn’t the innocent man that they’d all assumed he was throughout this investigation. Having met the parents, Carter could say without a doubt that the Montgomerys would be devastated if that second theory was true.
“Jared is working on Matt’s computer and phone,” Jason stated. “So we should have something there very soon. And we need to find out who this Peter is. He can answer all of these questions and more. We can stake out the bar and also question Matt’s parents. If they were close friends, they ought to know who he is. Perhaps they knew each other in childhood. With any luck, they exchanged texts. Then we’ve got him.”
Mallory half raised her hand. “Um…if they’re such close friends…won’t he be at the funeral tomorrow?”
If this Peter thought they were on to him? No. But if he thought he was in the clear, they might just get lucky.
“If he’s afraid he won’t come,” Carter pointed out. “If he thinks he’s going to be arrested, he won’t go near the funeral.”
Zach shook his head. “He’ll be there. He won’t be able to help himself.”
A funeral and a killer. Tomorrow wasn’t going to be a great day.
Chapter Thirty-Five
‡
The funeral service the next morning for Matthew Montgomery was a somber affair. As in so many small towns, there was a big turnout. Everybody knew each other and when they lost one of their own, they all pulled together to mourn. After the service, Jason, Carter, and Mallory drove to the Montgomery home which was practically bursting at the seams with bodies. So many unfamiliar faces but she only wanted to see one.
Peter.
They had a grainy photograph of him climbing into the trunk of Matt’s car that fateful night and not much else to identify him. They didn’t even know if his real name was Peter.
“Look at all of that food,” Carter said, eyeing the folding tables laden down with casseroles, fried chicken, pistachio salad, potato salad, three-bean salad, and a million different desserts. “Their friends must have been cooking for days. The best party of your life gets thrown when you can’t enjoy it.”
It was quite the get-together. Lots of people, lots of noise. Everyone trying to speak over everyone else and the din would cover anything that Mallory, Carter, or Jason discussed. They could have screamed that they were there to find a killer and she doubted anyone would have blinked an eye.
“I don’t know about that,” Jason replied with a grin. “My wedding reception was a pretty decent party. I know you had a good time. Didn’t you leave with–”
“Not important,” Carter interrupted loudly, his cheeks getting warm much to Mallory’s amusement. “We’re here on business, not to reminisce.”
She had a decent idea that he’d left that reception with one of the single bridesmaids. He’d been a hound dog before she’d met him and she was probably crazy to think he wouldn’t stay that way. He was just so darn charming… And earnest… And funny… And darn good in bed…
Rolling her eyes at Carter, she poured three sodas into red plastic cups. “As if I didn’t know how Jason was going to finish that sentence. Aren’t bridesmaids the only reason single guys even go to weddings?”
The question was purely rhetorical. She didn’t expect him to answer and he didn’t, pretending to be absorbed in people watching.
She handed a cup to Carter and then Jason, keeping the last one for herself. “So what do we do? Mingle? I’m not sure I’d recognize this Peter-person if I saw him. The video wasn’t all that clear.”
Jason nodded. “Mingling is a good idea. We need to pay our respects to the family so we might make our way to wherever they are.”
Raising his brows, Carter ran his gaze over the crowded dining room and kitchen combination. “Any idea of where they might be?”
“My money is the formal living room,” Mallory answered, nodding toward the back of the house. “Let’s try there.”
Easier said than done. The crush of bodies was so dense simply traveling a few feet was difficult. It took them several minutes and about two dozen “pardon-mes” to reach their destination – an orderly line set up for Don and Gina, who were sitting on the flowered loveseat speaking with their guests one by one.
Mallory had been here less than twenty-four hours ago and it wasn’t any less awkward the second time. She didn’t know what to say or do. Nothing was going to bring their son back and words seemed so inadequate.
“Just say that you’re sorry for their loss.”
Startled, she raised her head to look into Carter’s eyes. His expression was solemn and serious so he must have really spoken, not the little voice in her head. Jason had his back turned to them, chatting with an elderly couple ahead of them.
“What?”
“Just say that you’re sorry for their loss,” he repeated. “You did fine yesterday.”
“I don’t feel very comfortable at funerals,” she confessed softly, although it was so loud she doubted anyone would hear. Or care what she had to say. “I haven’t been to many of them.”
“I think it’s more about being here than saying the right words. I haven’t been to what you might describe as a lot of these situations but I think that’s what I observed. It was about surrounding the grieving family with people who care.”
“I don’t know them.” Apparently her mouth had a mind of its own today. “It was a quirk of fate that brought me – us – into their path.”
“They’re sad. Seeing you, and me too, gives them some sort of comfort. It brings their son closer.”
An image of that night ran through her head and she shivered involuntarily. “Or it reminds them of what happened.”
“We were invited here,” Carter reminded her. “Specifically by them. Whatever it is that they feel when they see us, it seems that’s an emotion they want to feel. Now tomorrow or next week it might be different, but for now they seem to want us here. And no, I don’t like funerals any more than you do.”
This man never ceased to surprise her.
“You seem to know a great deal about the psychology of mourning.”
Smiling, he leaned closer. “You mean for a builder, right? I took some psychology courses in college and I thought it was fascinating. I thought about majoring in it but I ended up in architectural engineering.”
He was a heck of a lot more than a builder.
“Those two subjects don’t have anything in common.”
“What can I say? I’m a complex man.”
“I’m beginning to realize that.”
Jason finished up his conversation with the couple and turned back to Carter and Mallory, a wide smile on his face.
“He’s here. My new friends pointed him out. Look right over my shoulder. Short dark hair. Medium stature but thin with a pale complexion. Blue suit that sort of hangs off of him. He was one of the pallbearers. See him?”
Mallory did but…him?
“He doesn’t look like a serial killer.”
“They never do,” Jason replied. “Now after we speak to the Montgomerys I want Mallory to work her way over to the far wall where they put all the flowers. We’ll be just a few feet away so don’t worry about anything. I want to see if he approaches you.”
Mallory opened her mouth to say yes but Carter was already answering for her.
“Hell, no. She’s not acting as bait.”
“This isn’t bait.” Jason shook his head, placing his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “We’ll never be more than a few feet away. Wyatt is posted at the front door and Zach at the back. We’re not going to take our eyes off of Mallory. Remember, this guy doesn’t even know we suspect him. He thinks he’s in the clear. But if Zach’s profile is correct, he’s a sneaky and cocky little shit. Let’s see if he’ll step out of the shadows. That’s all we’re asking for here. It’s up to Mallory. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” she replied quickly, not wanting Carter to interrupt again. “We need
to put a stop to this before someone else gets killed. I feel safe with everyone around. He won’t do anything with all these people watching.”
“We hope,” Carter said grimly. “I can’t stop you, but I don’t like it.”
“That’s right. You can’t stop me.”
Although it looked like he was prepared to physically pick her up and carry her out of the house. Carter was handsome and sexy and funny but he didn’t get to order her around. He liked having his way far too much and appeared to be used to getting it. That shit had to stop.
Jason leaned down to speak to her, his voice low. “Stand by that big wreath of red roses. We’ll be over by the lilies, not even three feet away. Whatever you do, don’t go anywhere with him. If he starts to get weird, just hold your glass out to the right. We’ll swarm in. Just see what he has to say. He might reveal himself as your secret admirer. Just don’t let him know that we have any idea who he is.”
“And then what?” Carter asked. “What’s next in your master plan?”
“I don’t have one, but it can’t hurt to make contact if we can. I’m thinking that if we get on his good side, we might want to ask him some questions. Informal style. Zach’s profile said that the killer wants praise, and he won’t hesitate to lie. He’ll make up stories to make himself feel like a hero, worthy of a female’s admiration.”
Carter rolled his eyes and groaned. “You mean this is all because he didn’t get enough love from his mother? Shit.”
“Zach does think that a significant female in the killer’s life triggered this behavior but we don’t know why.”
Mallory took a deep breath, calming her jangled nerves. She would be inches from a serial killer. She’d agreed to it because it was the right thing to do and she wasn’t going to show any fear. Carter would pounce on that like a lion on chateaubriand.
“And I look like her.”
Jason gave her a sympathetic look. “That’s our theory. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. If he even starts to reach out to lay a hand on you, he’ll be pulling back a stump. You’re as safe as a kitten.”
She believed that. It was the only reason she’d agreed to do this.
* * *
It took another twenty minutes to work their way through the line. The entire time Mallory kept one eye on Peter without being obvious about it. He looked completely harmless, chatting to the other guests whom he seemed to know well. Even physically he didn’t appear that intimidating, which was probably to his advantage. He wouldn’t strike fear into a female’s heart just standing next to her. He seemed…almost meek. If not meek, maybe…affable? Not like a man with a major anger management problem. If Jason hadn’t uncovered the evidence he had, she wasn’t sure she would have believed that this guy could be their killer.
Stationing herself next to the wreath with all the red roses, Mallory leaned closer to softly run her finger on the edge of a velvety petal. She didn’t have to move to smell their heady perfume, however. The aroma of flowers hung heavy in the air, the mixture almost sickly sweet. A shadow fell over her and the bouquet.
“Are they your favorite?”
She turned to see the exact man she’d hoped for. Peter. He’d taken the bait. Okay, Jason said she wasn’t bait but it felt like it.
“Actually, I prefer tulips but these are pretty.”
He also reached out to caress a bloom. Not close enough to touch her but too close to make her feel comfortable. She tensed and her heart beat against her ribs but she gritted her teeth until her jaw ached, determined not to let him know that he had any effect on her. Sweat pooled at the back of her neck but outwardly she hoped she looked calm and cool.
“Did you know strawberries are actually part of the rose family?”
Mallory did but she pretended not to.
“Really? I had no idea. I don’t think I’ll ever look at a strawberry the same.”
And she wouldn’t but not for the reasons he thought. Instead she’d be thinking of this moment. She didn’t want red roses either. Ever.
“My name’s Peter. Peter Walker. I haven’t seen you around here before.”
His roundabout way of asking who the hell she was. Of course he knew and he’d seen her, just not here. That’s when a thought occurred to her. Matt’s parents had expected him to be in attendance. Had he expected her? Had he perhaps even implanted the idea in Don and Gina’s minds?
Now she felt sick to her stomach. Ick.
Steadying her voice, she did her best to give him a casual smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter. I’m Mallory Cook.”
Since she didn’t want to answer the question of why she was here, she’d just ignore it. Would he be so gauche as to ask it again? She hoped not.
“Mallory,” he repeated. “Lovely name for a lovely girl.”
Did he actually think he was smooth? Some sort of ladies’ man?
“Thank you.” The words were forced out through her tight throat, the constriction making breathing and speaking difficult. She was supposed to be getting him to talk but her revulsion was simply too strong. She didn’t want to chat with him. She wanted to turn around and flee as quickly as possible. Her fingers tightened on the red cup in her hand and she contemplated raising it. Carter and Jason were hovering not far away, in her peripheral vision, and they would intervene. This would be over and she wouldn’t have to stand next to Peter anymore, smelling these roses and his cheap cologne. He looked so confident as if the outcome of this meeting was already decided.
As if he thought he was in complete control of the situation. Of her.
She took a step back when Peter reached out with both hands, breaking off a bud from the stem. Wordlessly he lifted it so it was in front of her face before holding it out in offering. Frozen in place, she couldn’t make her arm move to accept it. Her throat closed up as she stared into his lifeless dark eyes, glassy and dull. He reminded her of those sharks she’d seen on the nature channel, driven by instinct and hunger. No empathy, no emotion. Even the air surrounding him felt colder as if a cloud followed him around, obliterating the warmth of the sun. Adrenaline flooded her veins and she the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, a red flag she depended on to tell her when she was in danger. The voices in her head were all screaming loudly, drowning out the noise in the room. It was like a freight train roaring against her eardrums.
Run.
“A woman as beautiful as you are should have lots of roses, Mallory. Go ahead. Take it. No one will mind. There are plenty here.”
This time she did extend her hand but not for the flower. She raised her hand with the cup in it, holding it out to her right. She wanted far away from him.
Chapter Thirty-Six
‡
The minute Carter saw Mallory raise her cup with her right hand he was in motion, Jason on his heels. He didn’t know what had spooked her and he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was make sure she was okay. Clearly her conversation with Peter had disturbed her. Her face had gone pale and her lips were pressed together in a thin line of distaste.
Peter, on the other hand, didn’t appear to recognize that the woman he was speaking to was disturbed. He was wearing a smile that he probably thought was charming but came off cocky and arrogant.
Carter’s arm slid around Mallory’s waist, hopefully reassuring her that he was there and he would be whenever she needed him. “Hey hon, are you ready to go?”
She looked up at him and nodded, gratitude in her expression. “I think I am. How about you?”
Jason had also joined them but his attention was on Peter. “We could go get some coffee. I saw a diner not far away.”
Not sure what his cousin had in mind, Carter readily agreed as did Mallory. Jason held out his hand to Peter.
“I’m Jason Anderson, and I’m one of the members of the task force working on Matt Montgomery’s murder. You were a friend of his, correct?”
Peter smiled widely as if Matt wasn’t six feet under currently, shaking Jason’s hand. “His b
est friend since childhood. I’m Peter Walker.”
“I don’t suppose I could buy you a cup of coffee, Peter? I’d love to talk to you about Matt. Ask you about his life and habits. You know, all the little details are what breaks a case like this. You could be the hero that leads us up the right path. I’ll bet you knew Matt better than anybody.”
Jason knew what he was doing. Peter preened under the praise, obviously enjoying the idea of being a hero, just as Zach’s profile said he would. Jason had also used the word you several times, making the conversation all about Peter.
And he clearly liked that, too.
Peter glanced around the room and then shrugged. “Sure, I can do that. I’ve got the day off and I wouldn’t mind some coffee. But you don’t want to go to that diner down the road. Follow me and I’ll take you to a great little place that serves the best coffee for hundreds of miles.”
More boasting and arrogance. Carter already didn’t like the little shit, murder or not.
“Sounds great,” Jason said. “We’ll be happy to follow you.”
And Wyatt and Zach too, but Peter didn’t need to know that.
Peter gave Mallory a blinding smile. So much for grieving for a friend.
“You can ride with me if you like.”
Oh fuck no. Not in this lifetime.
Carter tightened his hold around her waist but kept his voice friendly, although he wanted to kick this smarmy jerk’s ass. “She’s with me.”
Peter never took his eyes from Mallory, as if Carter didn’t exist. “The offer’s open, Mallory.”
“I think I’ll ride with Carter, but thank you,” she murmured, moving closer to Carter. “Is it far to where we’re going?”