Chapter Eighteen
‡
EmmaLee picked up her aunt’s letter again and continued reading. “Your uncle will be buried this Saturday, May 12th. I don’t expect you’ll want to come, but I wish you would. I feel terrible about the way he treated you, and I am sorry if it looked as if I allowed it, but there would have been consequences if I had.” EmmaLee lowered her head, and a tear streaked down her cheek. She sniffled and wiped it away. “I’d always wondered why she didn’t defend me. Now I know that he was even worse to her.”
“I can’t imagine what it would be like to grow up without love,” Connor said, sounding wistful.
EmmaLee appreciated that he didn’t tell her she should have been grateful they had taken her in the first place, but he was mistaken about one thing. “Oh, I had plenty of love. It just wasn’t from them. My parents loved me unconditionally.”
“I’m glad.” He nodded to the letter. “Did she say what the key was for?”
“Let me see.” EmmaLee found where she’d left off reading. “Enclosed is a key that belonged to your parents. Your dad left it with your uncle in case of his death.” She rolled her eyes then looked over at Connor. “And it took him almost fourteen years to give it to me?”
“Well, we have established the man was an asshole,” Connor said.
“Yeah. He obviously didn’t want me to have anything of my father’s. I told you he hated me.”
“Does she say what the key goes to?”
EmmaLee checked the rest of the letter. “It’s to a storage locker in Dunlap Gorge.”
“Do you know what’s in the locker?” he asked.
“I didn’t even know a locker existed.” EmmaLee ran a finger down the page. “She doesn’t say, but she gave me the address to the storage facility.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know.”
EmmaLee was about to say that was a crock, but in reality her aunt probably had never asked. “Then I guess I’ll have to go there and find out.”
“Sounds good to me. We can go now if you want. Jackson can take care of anything that crops up here.”
“If Ronan is in Billard, is he there to find Slater?”
“That’s one of his chores. Don’t worry. When Coghill pops up, we’ll get him.”
“Let’s hope that place isn’t Silver Lake.”
He cupped her face. “I promise I won’t let him near you.”
“If he does, will you shift into a wolf and tear him limb from limb?” She was kind of making light of the situation, but Connor stiffened nonetheless.
“Let’s hope he’s a wolf. While I pride myself on my fighting skills, if he’s a bear or a tiger, let’s just say the odds don’t usually fall in a wolf’s favor.”
“You really can’t sense what he is?” she asked.
“I believe I mentioned I couldn’t.” Connor pushed back his chair and stood. “Let’s focus on something else, like finding out what’s in that storage unit. It might help solve the crime of who killed your folks.”
She stood, and when she hugged him, his delicious scent teased her nostrils. “Thank you. You are the best.”
He lifted her chin. “I try to be.”
*
Connor was afraid that EmmaLee would either be disappointed there was nothing of value in the storage unit, or she’d find something that ruined her whole image of her parents. Either way, digging up skeletons probably wasn’t smart, but he couldn’t say no to her.
The only consolation to driving more than three hours to Dunlap Gorge was that there was a low likelihood of Coghill finding them there. No proof existed that he was planning to seek her out again anyway. However, Connor had the distinct impression that she had learned something Coghill didn’t want the world to know. What that was, Connor didn’t know.
“Turn here,” she said two blocks before the light.
“When was the last time you were in your hometown?” he asked.
She glanced downward. “I haven’t been since I was almost seventeen.”
“That was pretty young to leave the nest.”
“A very uncomfortable nest, mind you. I worked really hard in school to get ahead so I could graduate a year early. Nothing was going to stop me from getting out from under Uncle Robert’s watchful eye.”
“Good for you.” He turned into the entrance of U-Storage and parked. “Are you sure you’re ready to look through your parents’ possessions?”
“More than ready.”
“Then let’s do this.”
After signing in, they located the unit. As soon as Connor lifted the garage door, he stilled and studied the contents. The place was stacked with boxes in a not-so-neat order. “What do you think?”
“It’s a mess,” EmmaLee said as she stepped inside. She ran her fingers over the dusty boxes. “It looks like they are dated at least.”
“How does that help?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’m thinking the answer to their deaths would be found in the more recent boxes.”
He liked her logic. “I agree.”
She twisted her ponytail in an absent-minded way. “One thing’s for sure. We can’t fit all of these into your SUV.”
He figured she’d want to go through each one. “We could stay at a hotel for a day or two and look through them all, taking a few boxes each day.”
EmmaLee smiled and his wolf went crazy. She wiped her palms down her pants and stepped close. Even in the moldy smelling interior, her scent excited him. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he wanted to taste her, so without hesitation, he kissed her.
Close the door, and let’s enjoy our mate, his wolf yipped with too much cheer.
Christ, you have a one-track mind. I am not making love to our mate in a mildew infested storage unit.
His animal huffed and whined, but Connor blocked out his complaint. Instead, he enjoyed her sweet mouth.
Hearing voices outside, Connor broke off the kiss and cleared his throat. “I guess we should put as many as we can in the car and then find a hotel.”
“Works for me. Thank you,” she said.
For the next few minutes they stacked the boxes in the back and on the seats. “Do you know where a hotel is located?” he asked.
“There used to be one on Elkart Avenue, but I can’t say if it’s nice anymore or even if it’s still there. It’s been a long time since I left.”
“We’ll give it a try.” Connor programmed his GPS then took off. “I just realized the storage unit person didn’t say the payments were in arrears. Do you think your uncle paid for the unit all these years?”
“I doubt it. Uncle Robert was such a tightwad.”
“Maybe he believed his brother’s research was valuable, and he wanted to make sure the information was preserved.”
“My uncle probably never took the time to listen to my father’s ideas. Every time Uncle Robert talked about dad’s vocation, it was with scorn.”
“Then who would have kept up the payment?”
“Perhaps my aunt did though I’m not sure why. I don’t see my father paying in advance either—certainly not for fourteen years.”
“I’ll check with the manager the next time we come,” Connor said.
The hotel wasn’t far, for which he was thankful. While Connor didn’t think the place was very nice—at least on the outside—EmmaLee didn’t bat an eye. They ended up taking what the clerk claimed was their nicest room. The best part was that they could park in front of the room, making lugging in all of the boxes less of a chore.
“So how do you want to do this?” Connor asked once they placed the boxes in a neat arrangement on the floor.
“If a secret caused my parents’ death, we should start with the newest box.”
That made sense, but he feared if her parents had discovered something, they might not have had time or enough warning to hide it. “I’ll let you decide what you want me to sort through.”
EmmaLee pointed to a box. “You take that one. I’ll do the most recent one.”
Just because Connor was used to this kind of research didn’t mean he liked it. Jackson was the one with the patience to dig and dig until he found that one small nugget of truth. For EmmaLee though, he’d do his best.
His box contained notebooks of their findings, a yearly calendar, and a lot of interviews. While he wasn’t sure what any of it meant, Connor would do his damnedest to figure out what the killer was so afraid would be exposed.
For the next two hours, they pored over the files, jotting down notes, and occasionally EmmaLee would read him something that they would then discuss. Potential clues went in one pile, unimportant items in another.
Around dinnertime, EmmaLee stilled. “I think I have something. Listen to this. A man promising them an exclusive interview about seeing a dragon was supposed to fly in on Thursday, October 16th to the Atlanta Airport. My parents noted that while the plane arrived on time, their man was not on the flight.”
“So? People miss flights all the time.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I know, but later that night, Mom wrote in her journal that she thought she heard wings flapping overhead and that they came close to the window. The next day their house burned down.”
“What does one have to do with the other?”
“Maybe nothing.”
Connor didn’t like seeing her so dejected. “The guy who supposedly saw the dragon might have been trying to make sure no one followed him, so he missed the plane on purpose. Does it say in her journal if he called your folks later that evening to explain what happened?”
“No.”
Connor told her how Coghill had booked a few flights but he never arrived on any of them.
“Yes, but Slater was a wanted man,” she said. It makes sense he’d do that to keep the cops busy while he took the train or a bus.”
Connor liked the way she thought. He saw no reason to mention that a bus or train wouldn’t have allowed Coghill to arrive in New Orleans three hours later. “It’s reasonable to think this guy believed he was being followed. Did your parents mention the man’s name? My team might be able to do a little investigating.”
“No. They just called him Mr. F. I find it odd that he was anxious to tell them about what he’d seen but then never showed up. That combined with the flapping of wings caught my attention.”
“Your mom might have been upset that he didn’t show. She probably had dragons on her mind.”
EmmaLee nodded. “You’re probably right. Aargh. This is so frustrating.”
“Remember, it’s a cold case. It will take time and patience to find something that helps. We need to learn the man’s name so my team can figure out why he never showed.”
Her mouth opened. “Are you thinking someone killed him?”
“It’s possible.”
For the next half hour, they read through the letters and notebooks, but he came up empty. She closed her book. “Nothing. How do you do this day after day?” she asked.
Connor was pleased she was beginning to understand what he did for a living. Once they were mated—assuming she was willing—EmmaLee would have far less difficulty adjusting to his long hours if she could relate to what he did. “I’m determined to find justice.”
“Is it because your father was the Clan’s Alpha and ran the business before you?”
He smiled. “Someone has been doing her homework.”
She returned his smile. “I’ve also met your dad. He’s sharp and seems driven to do his best.”
Her insight impressed him. “I’m surprised you could see through his facade. Sometimes he acts like he just stumbles into uncovering things, but in truth, he works all the time.”
“Well, I like him.”
“I’m glad. What do you say we make another trip to the locker and sort through the rest of the boxes? We can return any we’ve already searched through to make room in here.”
“Sounds good.”
They took back more than half of the boxes. When they returned to the office to sign in, the clerk’s eyes widened. “Ms. Donovan, your brother was just here. You missed him by five minutes.” He chuckled. “Why, your parents’ locker hasn’t seen this much activity in years.”
“My brother?”
It had to be Coghill. “What did he look like?” Connor asked.
The clerk’s mouth gaped open. He looked at EmmaLee. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t have a brother. Did he have identification?”
“Yes. A driver’s license.”
“What was the name on it?” she asked, the tension in her voice escalating.
“Let me check the log.” He twisted the pad of paper around and tapped it. “Slater Donovan.”
Well damn. Connor’s protective nature shot into high gear. He had to have followed them there, not giving a damn if they found out. If was almost as if he wanted them to know he was one step ahead of them.
“He’s not my brother; he’s a thief.”
“A thief? I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s not your fault,” Connor said. “The man had identification. Can you tell me if the rent is up-to-date?” he asked the clerk.
His hands shook. “Let me look.” He clicked the keys on his computer then dragged his fingers across the screen. “Yes. The unit has never been in arrears.”
“Who has been paying for it?” asked EmmaLee.
“A Kathleen Donovan.”
EmmaLee grabbed Connor’s hand. “Why would Aunt Kathy pay for the unit? She rarely mentioned my father.”
Connor ran a hand down her arm. “You read her letter. She probably felt guilty for the way your uncle treated you. Maybe by keeping the storage locker fees up-to-date, she hoped it would help bring you closure.”
She blew out a breath. “I wish I’d known how she felt when I lived with her.”
“At least you do now.”
The clerk cleared his throat. “What should I do if this guy shows up again?”
“Call the police, but I don’t think he’ll return,” Connor said, his mind swirling.
EmmaLee’s hands tightened into fists. Wanting to avoid a scene, he led her outside.
As soon as they were clear, she faced him. “Can you believe Slater? He must have followed us.”
That was what worried Connor the most. “If he did, he was damned good. Did he say if he was in the military?”
“He never mentioned it.”
That made him even more dangerous. He possibly worked in special ops.
In silence, they drove over to her father’s storage unit. When they arrived, Connor made EmmaLee stay in the car until he’d thoroughly checked out the area. He didn’t detect any shifter signatures, but Ronan said Coghill’s scent was faint.
As soon as Connor stepped up to the unit, he noticed the lock had been broken. “Son of a bitch.”
Even though he was convinced Coghill was long gone, Connor looked around once more—even checking the unit rooftops, half expecting Slater to be there with an assault rifle in his hands. What the hell was so valuable about the Donovan’s research that at least two people had to die?
Connor lifted off the latch, and when he opened the door, his heart cracked. Oh, shit.