Page 120 of Last Seen
There is no question he’s being forced out of this room. But to where? To what end?
“Look at the cottage!” Noah shouts as the glass door slides closed.
Miles approaches the nurse, a woman so young she seems fresh out of school. “Please tend to my son. He is overwhelmed and not himself. I think a sedative is in order.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Brockton. I’ll call the doctor right away.”
Miles turns to Theo, his face arranged in concern. “I suppose you aren’t going to let this go, and I can’t say I blame you. If my dearly departed wife got herself into trouble, I would have moved heaven and earth to help her.” He guides Theo to the doors and, surprisingly, follows him out. Theo keeps expecting Miles to tell him to leave, but instead he says, “Let’s lay all this to rest, shall we? Would you like to follow me to Brooke Cottage? Or ride with me?” He looks pointedly at Theo’s huge gas-guzzling truck with distaste, but there’s no way in hell Theo is going anywhere with this man without his rolling arsenal.
“I’ll follow you.”
“Suit yourself. You know they do make electric versions of your vehicle.”
“I’m aware,” Theo says. There’s no way in hell that’s happening. He needs a truck he can repair himself if something ever goes wrong. Call him old fashioned.
They drive—slowly—for a few minutes. The lights are turning on all across Brockville, making the streets feel even more welcoming and charming. Miles waves to every person they see. They all wave back enthusiastically. Town founder, mayor, leader, priest, hero—whatever he is to these people, they love him.
Brooke Cottage looks much the same as when Theo drove past on his first trip to Brockville. Miles parks, pulls out a key, and lets them in. Flips on the lights.
The cottage is spotless.
It certainly doesn’t look like someone was shot there. Theo’s been to plenty of crime scenes. There’s no scent of blood, nor disarray. It is a pleasant, empty place, ready for the next excited tenant. The cleaners have been here. They worked quickly. And because of that, there is no trace of his wife. Her indiscretion does not appear before him. Shooting the man she’d taken as a lover ... It still feels too surreal to imagine.
“Feel free to take a look around,” Miles says. “I have no secrets here.”
“Do you not haveanysecrets, Mr. Brockton?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you know a woman named Donnata Kade?”
Miles scowls and tsks sympathetically. “Oh, that poor woman. She had an incredibly hard time of it. Lost herself, lost her job, her marriage, her family, her housing. My friends took pity on her and let her stay in their home here, and for a while I thought Ms. Kade was going to recover. Fit in. But her demons were clearly too much for her. I hated to hear of her death. A true loss to those who cared about her.”
Theo jerks upright. “Excuse me? Her death?”
“You didn’t hear? Oh, how clumsy of me. My apologies. Ms. Kade passed away last night.”
Theo stares at Miles. Something shifts behind the man’s eyes. On the surface, Miles Brockton looks benign. Distinguished. He has actorhair and dark-blue eyes, is clearly strong and in shape for a man of his age. He is hale and hearty and beloved. And yet somewhere, deep inside him, lurks a demon that Theo can see as clearly as if he’s backlit with fire.
He doesn’t believe Donnata Kade died by accident. Not for one second.
“How?” he manages. He wants to step across the room, put his hand around Brockton’s throat, and squeeze until the man squeals. He holds himself steady, though. Any false moves and Halley could be lost forever.
“Her car skidded off the road coming over the mountain last night. It was raining. She went right over the edge.”
“Last night?”
“Overnight. Yes.”
Miles Brockton has just told him a whopper of a lie. Donnata Kade was in Nashville as of five hours ago. There’s no way she could have died here last night. And Miles doesn’t know it.
“Can I see her body?”
“I’m afraid that’s not my decision to make. You can speak to my son, Sheriff Brockton, and make a formal request of him. Because you’re law enforcement, he may determine it appropriate. May I ask, was she a friend?”
“You could call her that. I’m certainly shocked to hear this.”
“I do offer my deepest condolences. Now, what else can I show you here in our fine village?”
