“Conrad would hate that we’re in here,” Tassie said as she tried to find that one junk drawer everyone had in their kitchen. “You know that, right?”

  Baxter grinned up at her.

  She couldn’t help smiling too. “I don’t know if Tristan is going to sell the place or not, but if he does, hopefully, the people who buy it have dogs and cats and lots of kids. Not because Conrad would absolutely loathe it—well, maybe a little—but because a house deserves a nice family.”

  When she finally found the junk drawer, it was surprisingly non-remarkable and filled with nothing but take-out menus from various restaurants in town. That would explain why there was very little in the way of cookware in the cabinets she looked in. Now that she thought about it, she realized that it didn’t appear as if Conrad used the kitchen very much at all.

  “Well, the kitchen is a bust. Let’s check out the living room.”

  Unfortunately,just expensive looking but rather uninviting leather couches and surprisingly modest TV, nothing to place David in the house.

  “Not that I know what we’re even looking for,” Tassie muttered as she guided Baxter into the entryway and headed upstairs.

  Why couldn’t David have dropped his wallet when he’d killed Conrad?

  Then again, if he had, the police would have found it and placed him at the scene. No, what she was looking for would have to be more subtle than that.

  Like downstairs, the upstairs was all hardwood floors. So were the steps. Since they were way too slick for Baxter to tackle with his little feet, she carried him to the second floor then set him down when they got to the top.

  The first room they came to was a guest bedroom. Simply decorated with the requisite maritime and fishing accents, it looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time—if ever. Thinking there probably wouldn’t be anything of interest in that room, she led Baxter past it to the next one.

  Which was a home office.

  Bingo!

  Tassie ignored the low bookcases on either wall that seemed to be filled with self-help books and went directly to the desk by the window. She shook her head when she saw that it overlooked the front part of the property. Probably so Conrad could make sure no one was getting too close to his precious lawn.

  Pulling out the chair, she sat down.

  In addition to a laptop, there was a desk calendar and a few stacks of papers. She checked the calendar to see if Conrad had written anything in the square for the date he’d been murdered. Like who he might have met with. But there wasn’t anything. Actually, he hadn’t written much on the calendar at all, which made her wonder why he had it in the first place. Didn’t everyone use the calendar on their phone or computer anyway?

  She shifted her focus to the first stack of papers on the desk. They turned out to be from Conrad’s lawyer about dissolving his business partnership with David. While that meant David could have had motive, it didn’t prove he murdered Conrad. The next stack was various things Conrad had printed off the internet about different deep sea fishing boats. Maybe they were for the business he’d intended to start?

  Again, not much help.

  Sighing, she opened the laptop. And found herself staring at a blinking cursor.

  “Of course, it’s password protected,” she muttered.

  Tassie flopped back in the chair, then immediately sat up again as a thought occurred to her.

  Maybe Conrad wrote his passwords down somewhere. She kept all of hers in a small spiral notebook. Maybe he’d done the same.

  She opened the top drawer on the left and riffled through it but didn’t find anything except pens, scotch tape, a stapler—and more scotch tape. The drawer underneath only had a ream of printer paper, so it didn’t take long to look through there either.

  Swiveling the chair to the right, she slid open the top drawer and did a double take at the old photo of a couple and a little boy staring back at her.

  She’d seen the photo before.

  On Oliver Bolton’s Facebook page.

  It was a picture of him with his parents.

  Tassie held it up to show Baxter. “Why would Conrad have a picture of Oliver and his parents?”

  Baxter tilted his head a little as he studied the photo. While he did, she noticed the writing on the back.

  Mom and Dad’s Anniversary.

  02/28/1964

  Still holding onto the photo, she looked to see what else was in the drawer and was stunned for the second time in as many minutes to find Conrad’s Mega Millions winning lottery ticket there.

  Even more shocking?

  The winning numbers were 1, 2, 4, 6, 9, and 28.

  What were the odds that the numbers Conrad played just so happened to be the date of Oliver’s parents’ anniversary?

  That was too much of a coincidence.

  It also explained how Conrad won the lottery when he never played.

  Tassie looked at Baxter. “Well, I think we figured out why Conrad killed Oliver. He murdered his friend and stole his winning lottery ticket.”

  She tucked the photo and the lottery ticket in her crossbody purse, then quickly looked through the other drawers. Since there wasn’t a notebook of passwords anywhere, she decided to forget about the laptop. Unless David had sent threatening emails to Conrad, there probably wouldn’t have been much on it to be of any help. Besides, now that Jack had arrested David, they’d most likely get a warrant for the computer.

  “Okay, I think we’ve searched enough in here.”

  Getting to her feet, Tassie headed for the door, Baxter beside her. Once in the hallway, she stood there for a moment, debating whether to venture into Conrad’s bedroom. Part of her thought that might be a step too far, but then the other part reminded her that they were there to get evidence. Still, the thought of searching Conrad’s room…

  As if impatient for her to decide, Baxter started in that direction, tugging a little on the leash attached to his harness. When she didn’t immediately move to follow, he gave her a pointed look over his shoulder.

  “You honestly think we should go in there?” she asked.

  He gazed at her with a determined expression.

  She let out a sigh. “Okay. Lead the way.”

  Baxter did, making a beeline for the bedroom at the end of the hallway.

  The maritime/fishing theme continued in this room too, complete with a huge ship’s wheel on the wall above the bed. Besides the closet along one wall, there was a low dresser and two night tables. She eyed the latter.

  Did she truly want to look in those?

  There could be things in them that she couldn’t unsee.

  But there could also be something to help Jack charge David with murder.

  Drats.

  Tassie took a deep breath and walked over to the night table closest to her. Bracing herself, she reached for the knob when Baxter let out a little bark. She glanced over to see him focused on the closet door, ears and tail on full alert.

  “Do you want to look in there?” she asked.

  He glanced at her, then back at the closet door.

  She supposed the night tables could wait.

  “Okay, let’s see what’s in there that’s so interesting,” Tassie said, letting him lead her across the room.

  Reaching out, she slid the door open, revealing a rack full of unremarkable neutral color shirts on the top and a rack of equally conservative pants on the bottom. Nothing to see here. Unless there was a hidden safe behind the clothes.

  Baxter yipped, interrupting her thoughts.

  Tassie glanced at her precious pup fixated on the row of boots and shoes on the floor of the closet. She crouched down beside him.

  “What is it, baby?”

  He touched his nose to a pair of boots beside a pair of deck shoes.

  She frowned. There didn’t seem to be anything special about them.

  Baxter nosed them again then tilted his head to look at her. Since he was so insistent, maybe she should take a closer look.

  She leaned in so she could inspect them better. That’s when she realized the pair of boots seemed to be bigger than the shoes beside it, as well as all of the other footwear in the closet.

  That was weird.

  Tassie reached out and picked them up. They weren’t merely a little bigger than the other shoes and boots in the closet. They were way bigger. Conrad had been five-nine at the most. These boots belonged to someone much taller. Someone well over six feet. Someone closer to seven feet in fact.

  Someone like…

  Baxter booped her hand with his nose to get her attention then turned to look at something on the floor. She lifted the boots she held higher and out of the way to see a dark red stain on the wood floor where they’d been sitting.

  Blood.

  David didn’t murder Conrad.

  Allen did.

  Suddenly, everything fell into place.

  Allen highlighting the feud between David and Conrad.

  Allen just happening to bump into her outside the bakery and tell her about a supposed fight at the cabin.

  Allen shooting at her, Baxter, and Jack.

  The only thing she didn’t know was why Allen had killed Conrad. It couldn’t have been for the lottery money because Allen had to have known Conrad would leave everything to Tristan.

  Setting the boots on the floor, she pressed a kiss to Baxter’s head and caressed his ears. “Good job finding these. Let’s call Jack and tell him what we found.”

  Taking her cell out of her purse, Tassie opened up her favorites in her contacts—What? Of course, she’d already added him in there—and clicked on his name. Hopefully, it wouldn’t go to voicemail.

  “Tassie, what’s up?”

  “Hey, Jack. I’m in Conrad’s house—”

  A loud groan on the other end of the phone interrupted her. “Please tell me that you didn’t break in.”

  “Of course not! Conrad left the house to his son. Tristan gave me the key.”

  “Oh. Okay then,” he said, sounding genuinely relieved. “Wait a minute. Why are you at Conrad’s house?”

  “I was hoping to find something to prove David was here when Conrad was murdered.”

  “Did you?”

  “Not exactly. Because David didn’t kill Conrad.”

  Jack didn’t say anything for a minute. “How do you know that?”

  “Because Baxter and I found—”

  Beside her, Baxter tensed, his hackles suddenly going up at the same time he turned toward the door and let out a sharp bark.

  Phone still to her ear, Tassie turned to see Allen standing there, the gun in his hand pointed directly at her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Her stomach lurched.

  “Tassie, what’s going on?” Jack demanded in her ear.

  Allen is here and he’s going to kill me because I figured out he murdered Conrad.

  But she couldn’t say that, of course.

  “Allen,” she said, knowing Jack was listening. “This isn’t because I didn’t have coffee with you, is it? If it is, we can go get some right now. The gun isn’t necessary.”

  “Don’t play dumb,” Allen snapped. “Hang up the phone.”

  She hesitated, hand tightening around her cell.

  “I’m on my way,” Jack said. “Keep him talking.”

  “Hang up!” Allen ordered. “Now!”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Pretending to thumb the red button, she slipped the phone in her purse, hoping Jack could still hear what they were saying while it was in there. Quickly bending to pick up Baxter, she cuddled him close as she faced off with Allen.

  “Why did you kill Conrad?” she asked.

  His mouth tightened like he was afraid to confess. Which was pretty dopey considering he was holding her and Baxter at gunpoint.

  “You’re going to kill me anyway,” she pointed out as casually as she could manage. It took everything in her to act nonchalant when she was staring at certain death here. “The least you can do is satisfy my curiosity.”

  Allen seemed to consider that. “Because he wouldn’t share the lottery money with me.”

  “Why would he share the money with you?”

  “Because that was the deal we made.”

  “Maybe you should start at the beginning because I’m obviously missing something. Why would he agree to give you a share of the money he won in the lottery?”

  He shifted from foot to foot almost nervously, which was making her nervous. Well, more nervous.

  “Because Conrad didn’t play the lottery, that’s why!”

  Tassie frowned. “I’m confused.”

  She actually wasn’t confused at all, but she needed to keep him talking. And if she was being honest, she wanted to hear more about this deal he and Conrad had.

  Allen let out a loud sigh of frustration. “Oliver was the one who played the lottery. The winning ticket was his. If Oliver had given us some of the money like he promised, he’d be alive right now, Conrad would be alive right now, and I wouldn’t have to kill you because you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. This is all Oliver’s fault!”

  So, in Allen’s mind, everything was somebody else’s fault. Maybe she could use that.

  “Well, if Oliver said he would share the money with you, then he should have,” she agreed.

  “Right? He played those same numbers every week for years. None of us expected him to ever win. And then we’re all watching TV downstairs that night and they announce the winners and Oliver tells us that he won,” Allen shook his head. “Conrad and I figured we’d each get a third since that seemed fair and all, but then Oliver said he wasn’t going to share a dime of that money. That he thought we were only joking when we talked about it.”

  Yeah, that’s because most people would be joking if they said something like that.

  She didn’t dare say that out loud though.

  “What happened?” she prompted even as she tried to figure out if she was fast enough to get past Allen and make a run for the door before he could stop her.

  Probably not. She’d never been super athletic.

  She’d have to keep Allen talking until Jack got here.

  “Things got ugly between Conrad and Oliver—I mean really ugly—and when Oliver tried to leave, Conrad hit him with that heavy model ship he kept in the entryway. Shocked me, I can tell you. I did not expect that.” Allen shrugged. “I wanted to dump Oliver’s body in the bay. Everyone knew he loved to fish so it’d look like he fell overboard or something. But Conrad said someone might see us, so he suggested we bury Oliver in the backyard instead since no one ever goes back there but him, then take Oliver’s lottery ticket. He even took that photo of Oliver’s parents with the date of their anniversary on the back. He was afraid someone would put two and two together and figure out the lottery ticket belonged to Oliver. The only mistake I made was trusting Conrad when he said he’d split the money with me.”

  It seemed like Allen made a lot more mistakes than that. Like helping Conrad bury a body in the backyard instead of going to the police. But she didn’t point out the obvious.

  “Conrad kept telling me that he had to wait for his lawyer to do some paperwork before he could give me my share. Like an idiot, I believed him,” Allen continued. “Anyway, I had enough of his stalling, so I came to talk to him the other day. That’s when he told me that he wasn’t going to give me half the money. That he was giving it to his son instead.”

  “I can see how that would make you mad,” she said.

  Where was Jack? She couldn’t keep Allen talking much longer.

  “But then that woman showed up—the one the cops arrested for killing Conrad,” he added. “I went into the kitchen to cool off while she and Conrad were fighting about his son, so she never saw me. I figured if I waited until after she left and talked to Conrad after I calmed down, I might be able to get him to change his mind about the money.”

  “But that didn’t happen?”

  He shook his head. “Conrad didn’t want to hear anything I had to say after she left. All he could talk about was his son and that giving him half of the money was the only way to get back into his life. What about my life? Did he think I wanted to work fishing charters forever? I was so angry I could barely see straight.” His mouth curved up at one corner. “It was kind of poetic to murder Conrad with the same model ship he killed Oliver with, don’t you think?”

  Tassie supposed that was true. But the question seemed like it was rhetorical, so she didn’t bother to agree.

  “What I don’t understand is why you put your boots in Conrad’s closet,” she said.

  “Oh. That.” He shrugged. “When I realized I got blood on them, I didn’t want to track it through the house to the back door so I hid them in the last place I figured the cops would look.”

  On some level, that made sense. But why not take the boots off then take them with him and dispose of them someplace else?

  She would have asked but he continued.

  “I tried to come back a few times to get them but that old woman next door was always outside doing something so I couldn’t.” His mouth tightened. “Everything would have been so much simpler if I’d been able to kill you up at the cabin. I didn’t count on you bringing your cop boyfriend with you.”

  “He isn’t my boyfriend,” she said automatically.

  Although, she wouldn’t mind if they were heading in that direction.

  Allen didn’t look like he believed her. “You sure about that? Because the two of you seemed pretty close the other night when you left The General Store.”

  She glared at him. “You were following us?”

  “I was following you,” he corrected. “I didn’t like all those questions you were asking and thought you might be trouble. It turns out I was right.”

  In her arms, Baxter let out a little growl. Tassie caressed his fur, hoping to calm him even though she was far from that way herself, something her baby could almost certainly sense.