Page 73 of Home Town Knight

“That’s my thought too. I tried to get a warrant to place a tracker on Ellis’s car. The magistrate didn’t think there was enough suspicion to tie Ellis to the crime.”

“Icould put a tracker on his car if you want,” River said.

Owen gripped the bridge of his nose. “Riv, I swear. You’re like the devil on my shoulder. I need to keep this part of the investigation clean. The link to Stillwater is one thing, but I can’t jeopardize the murder prosecution.”

My mind was still on Ellis. The fact that he hadn’t left with his friends.

What had happened when he and Tucker were out hunting? Why had they turned off their phones? Why had he and Tucker fought over the cash that night in the bar, and why had Tucker really decided to leave the hotel alone during the night?

“I’m shocked that Ellis doesn’t want to get as far away from Hartley as he can,” I said. “His friend was murdered. Isn’t he afraid of the killer?”

Owen hummed in agreement. “Maybe he knows something we don’t.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Owen

When we leftRiver’s apartment, I started toward my SUV. But Genevieve didn’t follow.

I walked back over to her. We were still behind the saloon, and nobody was around. So I took her hand and laced our fingers together. The contact was nice. And I could admit that I’d been missing it during the brief time that she and I had been apart.

“Could we walk around Main Street?” she asked. “I’ve been stuck inside since I had to leave Last Refuge. I’m dying to stretch my legs. I haven’t even seen Jessi’s famous diner or Scarlett’s Sweet Shop.”

“Sure, we can do that. Sadly, I don’t think it would be wise for me to hold your hand out on the street, though. I hate that bullshit about appearances, but…”

“No, you’re right. You’ve had enough questions about me as it is.”

“I have no problem with anyone knowing I like you. I told the district attorney you’re staying with me, and to hell with him if he has a problem with it.” Norris had also warned me about the dangers of getting distracted, and I’d decided he was wrong. Gen was an asset to this investigation. Not adistraction. “But I don’t like the thought of it reflecting badly on you. Anyone questioning your integrity as a journalist or a witness.”

Genevieve tugged my hand, pulling me into a shadowed area against the brick wall of the building. “Sweet that you want to defend my honor. My reputation isn’t great as it is, so I’m not concerned about an extra ding or two. But I don’t want to hurt your bid for reelection.”

“I promise, that election is the furthest thing from my mind.” After another glance around, I stole a few more kisses. “Come on. Let’s go.”

We didn’t hold hands, but our arms brushed as we made our way between the buildings to the sidewalk. Being the boss meant delegating tasks to others, and I’d gotten better at it. Then moments like this came up, when I had to wait for the next lead or update from my team. But while I’d usually be in my office taking care of paperwork or making phone calls, drumming up more work projects for myself, I had Genevieve to occupy some of that empty time.

I did want to show her around Main Street. Around my hometown.

We went down one side of the block, and I pointed out the local landmarks. People stopped me to ask about the investigation. Gen would wander off a few steps whenever that happened, ignoring my constituents’ curious glances. I almost said screw it and grabbed her hand, keeping her near me and claiming her. I wanted to. Screw what Grissom or Jud Hale might do with it.

But I didn’t. Probably because I wasn’t sure Genevieve wanted to be claimed by the sheriff for all of Hartley to see. This thing between us…I had no idea what it was, except that I wanted to make it last as long as it could.

We stopped into the sweet shop, where Scarlett’s daughter Vivian was working the register. After we reachedthe end of the business district, we went back the other way. The sun was starting to dip in the sky.

We were almost to Jessi’s Diner when Genevieve stopped at a storefront. She cupped her hands to peer inside the dusty windows. Stacks of abandoned newspapers lay inside with the headerHartley Gazette. Some of the papers were blackened, and one interior wall was singed.

“Jessi mentioned there used to be a local newspaper here.”

I leaned my shoulder against the glass. “The guy who ran it closed up shop a few years back. This town was on the decline for a while. I blame my extended family for that to some extent. In the last year, Hartley has grown a lot. Changed for the better. But this place is still empty. No new takers for the space.”

“That’s too bad. Small-town newspapers are charming.”

I chuckled. “But not exactly hard-hitting journalism.”

“Who knows? I came here for a story. And I’ve found one. Even if it’s a different one than I thought.”

“True.” It wasn’t just the murder. The story on Stillwater, if we could expose them and prove what they’d been up to, would be major. Not the publicity I wanted for my town, but I would never hold back the truth for that reason. “It would be a big deal for you. To break the story and have your byline on it. An impressive newspaper would take that story in a heartbeat.”

“Possibly.” Yet as she gazed in the storefront’s windows, Genevieve had a wistful gleam in her eyes.

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