Lara slipped on the morning grass as she rushed to Trevor’s side. “Bernie, what are you doing here?”

Trevor spread out his arms either to stop her or protect her from her coworker, yet Bernie shoved his hands in front of his face as if Trevor would beat him.

Harry jerked him to his feet.

The lab tech tugged at his restraint and reached out to her. “I needed to talk to you and your cop friend here.”

“Ever heard of knocking?” Trevor’s right shoulder jerked forward.

The faint morning light barely illuminated Bernie’s face. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Someone is trying to frame me.” He wretched his arm upward again to free himself from Harry’s grasp, but his attempt failed.

The tightness around his mouth and the puffiness under his eyes convinced her Bernie really was upset about something. “Frame you for what?”

Trevor wrapped an arm around her waist. “Harry, get rid of him.”

As his brother dragged Bernie toward the front of the house, the hard set to Trevor’s mouth told her no amount of pleading would make him change his mind. She didn’t like Bernie Laxman, was afraid of him in fact, but every man deserved a chance to defend himself.

Bernie twisted back around, fighting the restraint. “Lara. You’ve got to help me. I found your necklace in my house.”

She stilled. “My necklace?”

Trevor grabbed her hand, acting like she was about to run to her coworker.

“Harry, call Willard. Have him check out his story. We need that necklace.”

She slipped out of Trevor’s grasp and faced him. “Can’t we listen to what he has to say?”

“You’re trying to defend that scum? I thought he creeped you out.”

“I’m not defending him, but he might be telling the truth. We won’t know unless we speak to him. Aren’t you curious why he came here? If what I see on TV is right, people don’t admit to being a thief.”

Bernie continued to wrestle against Harry’s restraint. “What about my car? I need it,” Bernie whined as Harry hauled him toward the front of the house.

“Wait here.” Trevor jogged over to Harry and held out his hand to Bernie. “Give me the keys. I’ll drive it to the station for you.”

Bernie stopped struggling. “You’d do that for me?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Harry let go but stayed next to his prisoner while Bernie dug his hand in his pocket and extracted his car keys. “It’s the red Camaro. I parked on Ohio Street.”

Two blocks away. “I’ll make sure the car is in the parking lot behind the station when you are released.”

Harry jerked Bernie’s arm and led him to the front of the house. Lara sidled up next to Trevor, confused about what happened.

“Come on,” Trevor said.

“Where?”

“Inside.”

He led her into the house as Harry loaded Bernie in the back of his cruiser. Mr. Kinsey was standing by the table, his brows pinched tight. “What the hell happened out there?”

“Just some prowler. Harry’s taking him in.”

“Maybe he knows something about Ethan’s disappearance,” his dad said.

“It can’t hurt to ask him, but I don’t see why he’d know anything.” Trevor walked around the table and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Lara and I are going down to the station. We’ll catch breakfast on the way.”

“Be careful.” His mom wiped her hands on her apron.

Given it would take a while to process Bernie, Lara didn’t see why they had to leave a perfectly good meal. She’d have asked Trevor, but it wouldn’t have done any good. When he was on the hunt, there was no stopping him.

They rushed outside. Once down the steps, she placed a hand on his arm. “Do you think Bernie shot Ethan? Or was involved in his disappearance in any way?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t want to get into a discussion with Dad about the possibility.”

“He’d lecture you on what to do, right?” It’s what dads did.

“I see you’re getting to know him.” A hint of a smile lifted his lips. He handed her the keys to Bernie’s car. “Do you mind following me to the station?”

“You want me to drive Bernie’s car?”

“If that’s okay. We’ll need my truck once we arrive, and I can’t drive both vehicles.”

The Camaro might be one of the fastest cars she’d ever get to drive. “Sure.”

“Stay close.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

As she followed him toward the sheriff’s department, the sky brightened, but her troubled thoughts darkened her mood. Bernie’s car stunk. Rotten food didn’t smell that bad. She lowered the window to air out the inside.

Her mind automatically cataloged the smells. Perspiration and decomposition. Decomp? Bernie only dealt with blood samples. Surely, he wouldn’t take home something from the lab.

Twenty minutes later, she pulled into the lot behind Trevor, rolled up the electric windows and turned off the engine. She slipped out and inhaled, happy to be in the fresh air. From the way he took off ahead of her toward the office, he was hell bent on finding out what Bernie knew. She limped behind him, not wanting her injury to worsen. When she reached his desk a moment later, Trevor dragged Ethan’s empty chair from across the aisle and motioned she take a seat.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

See ya, chief running bear. She slumped in the seat. From the moment he’d learned Ethan was injured, Trevor had turned inward. She’d tried to draw him out, but she might as well have attempted to walk through a brick wall.

Five minutes later, he strode back with a few files in his hands. He sat, propped up his head with one hand and studied the information.

There were no formalities, like how are you holding up? No, what do you think Bernie was doing at my parents’ house. Not even, where do you think Ethan might be? His gaze stayed on the paper as his fingers flipped through the file.

Fine. She’d find something to do without him. She scooted closer. He was reading the report on Julie Bowman. “May I?” Lara tugged on the George Sanchez file sitting off to the side.

“Sure.”

Ah, the man could speak.

He slammed the folder closed and ripped the phone headset from the base. As he waited for whomever to answer, he beat the pencil against the wooden desk, which only agitated her already tired and annoyed state.

“Phil. Trevor Kinsey.” He filled her boss in about Bernie’s arrest.

After a short exchange, Trevor hung up and turned to her. “Carla is going to do an in-depth investigation into Bernie’s background.”

“Do you think he’s capable of killing someone? He always seemed harmless to me. A pest, sure, but not someone who would commit murder.”

“You’d be surprised what kind of people are murderers. My strangest case in New York involved a priest who killed pregnant women.”

“How horrible.”

“Yes. That case taught me not to be fooled by the person’s profession or how nice he seemed at the time.”

Her stomach grumbled. Bernie’s appearance this morning had interrupted their breakfast. “I’m going to check the break room for some snacks.” The George Sanchez report was getting her nowhere. “You want anything?” She placed her folder underneath the pile.

“No.”

Of course not. Lara needed to stretch her legs as well as find something to eat. She selected a pack of donuts from the machine and poured two cups of coffee. While the brew didn’t smell enticing, Trevor would need the energy boost. She wove her way around the desks and set the cup on his desk.

“Thanks.” He didn’t look up. Fine.

While she sipped the unappetizing brew, she leafed through the Sanchez report again. Every few minutes, Trevor would glance at Ethan’s empty desk, the lines around his eyes and mouth tightening.

Officer Mortimer strode up to Trevor’s desk. “Your brother is with Mr. Laxman in room three. They’re waiting for you.”

Trevor jerked. “Brother?”

“Harry.” His cheeks colored to a shiny red. “Sorry.”

Trevor stood and turned toward her. “You want to watch?”

“Yes. May I talk with him?”

“Not yet.”

Which meant at some point. Good enough for now. While his shoulders remained stiff, Trevor’s stride had more pep.

They needed answers.

Trevor escorted her to a two-way window that peered into a cramped room containing a small table and two chairs. Bernie sat alone, pit stains under his arms, chewing his left thumbnail. In a way, she felt sorry for him, unless he really had harmed Ethan, Julie Bowman, and George Sanchez. How could she have been totally unaware of Bernie’s evil nature? Maybe Trevor was right. Killers didn’t always come in obvious packages, stamped with red letters than said, murderer on their forehead.

Trevor touched her shoulder and nodded toward the room. “I won’t be in there long. You can watch me interrogate the bastard. We’re miked, so you’ll be able to hear everything we say.”

“Perfect.”

The door to the interrogation room opened and Trevor walked in.

Harry leaned over to Trevor. “Mr. Laxman, here, waived his right to a lawyer.”

“I’m innocent.”

“Fine.” Trevor sat across from Bernie. “Can you tell me what you were doing at my parents’ house this morning?”

Bernie’s gaze shot to the mirror, then back to Trevor. “I was following Lara. I needed to talk with her.”

She leaned closer, her fingers grasping the window ledge.

“You admit you were stalking Lara Romano?”

She held her breath, the violation unnerving her.

“Not stalking. We’re friends. I work with her. I know what’s going on, and I’m worried about her.”

Trevor leaned forward. “What is going on?”

“Some lunatic is after her. I think he’s targeting me too.” Bernie slapped a hand on his chest.

Harry wrote something on the pad. “Why do you think someone is after her?”

Trevor’s brother spoke real slow.

“I hear things at the lab. I know some crazy bastard broke into her house and wrote her a threatening note. I even found...” Bernie dropped his head and spoke so low she lost what he was saying.

Trevor shot a glance at the window. “Found what?”

“Her necklace. I think the same person who planted the jewelry at my house is threatening Lara. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Trevor’s lower jaw jutted to the right. “You know who’s threatening her?”

Bernie adjusted his glasses and rubbed his nose. “I can’t be positive, but I have a guess.”

Harry looked up at the two-way mirror and rolled his eyes. He dumped the contents of the Manila envelope on the table, and a necklace slid out. “Why did you take this?”

Lara gasped. “That’s my necklace.” She rapped on the glass to get their attention, but no one seemed to notice.

Bernie pointed to the red beaded pendant. “Some officer came to my house while I was on vacation. My father told me how he stomped in and demanded to see my room. The officer took a torn yellow shirt of mine, though I have no idea why. When I returned home, I found this necklace hidden in my drawer that I recognized as Lara’s. She wears it a lot. I knew someone was trying to frame me for something.”

“Who do you think put it there if not you?” Trevor leaned forward and pounded a fist on the table. Bernie jumped.

“I don’t know for sure.”

Harry flipped through his notes. “What about the other necklace? The Algonquin Fox necklace and bracelet set.”

Bernie ran both hands down the front of his shirt. “I wasn’t aware they were missing.”

Trevor leaned back in his chair. “How did you know Lara and I would be at my folks’ house at six in the morning?”

“I, ah.” His gaze shot to the ceiling and wet his lips. “As soon as I found the necklace in my drawer, I wanted to talk to Lara. I knew the police would suspect me, especially after they took my shirt. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say to her without you thinking I was guilty of something, so I followed you from the hotel, waiting for the right moment.”

Acid bit into her stomach. The weasel had followed them from their hotel? Bernie was depraved, sick bastard. Dammit. Here she thought staying in a nice hotel in the middle of a city would be safe.

Trevor and Harry grilled Bernie a little longer but no more outbursts occurred. Eventually, Trevor left Harry to finish the conversation. Trevor didn’t say a word when he approached her. Instead he gently clasped her arm and led her back to the office area. They were halfway there when it hit her. The smell.

She halted, and he turned around. “What is it?”

“It might not mean anything, but while I was driving Bernie’s car, there was a distinctive odor coming from the backseat or possibly the trunk.”

He pulled her closer to let two men get around them. “Describe distinctive.”

“Like a decomposing body.”

Her jerked forward and held out his hand. “Keys.”

“I left them in my purse at the desk.”

They sped down the hall to the office, her ankle protesting the quick moves. She found the keys and handed them to him. He took off, and Lara followed at a slower pace. Opening the driver’s side door, he stuck his head in and inhaled. When she arrived, he stood back up. “I can’t smell much.”

“Then your nose is defective.” She pulled open the back door and inhaled. “How can you not smell that?”

He slipped next to her. “It’s stronger back here. Maybe something is in the trunk.” Trevor popped open the back.

“Can we legally look in there?”

“Yes, since he gave me the keys.”

He stepped to the back of the vehicle. “Well, looky what I found.” He pulled out of pair of gloves from his back pocket, slipped them on, and lifted the baggie.

“My God, what is it?” The mass of blood and skin defied description.

“I think we found Julie Bowman’s scalp.”

Lara hated to move again, but if Bernie could find her, so could her stalker, assuming they were two different men. She felt like a chess piece in a very sick game. Trevor insisted she remain cooped up in the new hotel room. No work, no shopping, nothing.

“With Bernie in jail, I think I’ll be safe at work.” She’d begged her case a few times, but Trevor wasn’t hearing any of her pleas.

“No.” Trevor unpacked his clothes and stuffed them in the drawers.

“I have a job. A new job. Besides, it will take my mind off of what’s going on if I’m at the lab. You said with the evidence against him, no judge would let Bernie out on bail.”

“Maybe, but I won’t chance Bernie’s innocent.”

“Are you tired of dragging me around? Is that why you want me to stay put?” She tried not to let the frustration color her tone.

“Now you’re talking crazy. Finish unpacking.”

“What if the person who’s after me is able to get into this new hotel? With you gone, I’m safer at work. He could bribe a maid, pretend to be a maintenance man and then steal a card.”

Trevor spun back around. His stomach contracted, almost as if she’d punched him. “You might be right.”

Lara clasped his shoulders. “Something happened to make you so possessive. What was it?”

He held her gaze, opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Trevor twisted out of her grasp.

So now he throws that line back at her. Secrets. She hated them, but she wasn’t ready to reveal hers either. She was a firm believer in picking her battles and now wasn’t the time to demand the truth from him. In silence, she finished putting her things away until she couldn’t hold in her opinion any longer.

“You didn’t cause your brother to get shot.” She held her breath, waiting for him to break down, confess his inner demons, or yell.

“I know,” Trevor said a long moment later.

“Something is bugging you.” Now she sounded like Trevor. She wanted to ask where the old Trevor Kinsey had gone, but she understood the moment Ethan disappeared, he’d turned into another person.

He placed his empty duffel bag in the closet. “My brother is possibly dead, and I have no clue where he is. I’m trying to come up with a plan to find the bastard who harmed him. If I’m short with you, I’m sorry.”

The tightness around his mouth and his squared shoulders convinced her he was working hard to hold in his frustration.

“I do understand what a difficult time this is for you, but I need to understand the real issues here. Is your insistence I don’t leave this room really about my safety or are you fighting other evil spirits here?”

He glanced to the ceiling and blew out a breath. “Maybe both.” His cell buzzed. “Excuse me.” Trevor slapped the phone to his ear. “Kinsey.” Trevor walked to the window. With his back to her, she couldn’t make out everything he said. “Hold on a sec.” Trevor turned and put the phone on speaker. “Go ahead. I want Lara to hear this.” He mouthed it was Carla.

“Phil asked me to do a background check on Bernie.”

She stepped closer to the phone and turned her head to hear more clearly.

“What did you find out?” he asked.

“Bernie had a rough start in life before he turned it around. He left home when he was eighteen and was in a gang. He was never arrested though.”

Lara stepped closer to the phone. “Are you talking about the shy man, Bernie Laxman?”

“I know. I can’t believe it either, honey. He wandered from job to job until he met Nancy Cross. She came from a wealthy family. Long story short, he married her, and she helped put him through school. He had some issues with debt—gambling for the most part. The wife paid the first few times before she booted him out.”

She looked up at Trevor. “I didn’t know Bernie was married. When was the divorce?”

“About eight months ago.”

Trevor’s face remained unreadable.

“There is one more thing,” Carla said, the sound of the computer keys going wild. “He attempted suicide a month later.”

“How the hell did he get hired at the lab?” Trevor leaned closer to the phone.

“I’m guessing whoever did the background check never uncovered the suicide or else his wife had enough connections to have the information expunged. Bernie had an exemplary record at his last lab.”

“I trust HOPEFAL contacted his references,” Lara said.

“Yes. According to his personnel file, his former lab mentioned Bernie had some treatable emotional issues. Pomerantz wanted to give him a second chance after Bernie agreed to go to therapy.”

“Where’s the wife now?” Trevor asked.

“I’ll have to do more work if you want that answer.”

“Do that, will you?”

“I’m on it.”

Trevor hung up.

Lara couldn’t wrap her mind around the Bernie she knew with the man Carla had described. At work, he was focused and attentive to her. Yes, he was arrogant, but so were a lot of smart people who worked at the lab. “What do you think?”

“The murders could be a way to make him feel powerful after his wife left him.”

She’d taken one psychology course in college. Now she wished she’d spent more time studying the criminal mind. “I guess. Do you think we can get his records from the therapist?”

“Not without a court order.”

“It shouldn’t be that hard since he was in possession of a murdered woman’s scalp.”

“Regardless, it won’t help us find Ethan.” He led her over to the table near the window. “Did Bernie ever talk about his friends?”

“I didn’t know he had any. It was all business between us. I only interacted with him when I sent samples to the lab to be analyzed. That’s why I can’t see him coming after me.”

“Unless you look like his ex-wife.”

No way. “Maybe Carla can pull up a picture of Mrs. Bernie Laxman.”

“According to Phil, if anyone can, it’s Carla.”

Lara drew a pad of paper toward her, along with the hotel pen and made some notes about her coworker. “Suppose Bernie is the killer and you’re able to prove it, how long before I can go home and get my life back?”

“The murders and disappearances have been occurring every few days. I say if we have no activity for the next two weeks, we can think about Bernie being our man.”

Trevor’s cell rang again. “Kinsey.” His jaw tightened as he listened. “It can’t be.”