Half Empty(39)

The place was still in shambles. In addition to the room being torn apart, there were smudges of black dust everywhere. She’d watched enough television to know what investigators left behind when looking for fingerprints. Without a beat, she moved to the desk, which wasn’t in the exact place it normally was, but was still sitting upright.

Someone called her name, but she didn’t look up to see whom.

She walked around the desk and ducked to look underneath.

The lighting didn’t allow a visual of anything, so she stood, placed both hands on one edge, and pulled with everything she had.

No one was more surprised than she was when the desk fell over and crashed to the side with a noise that filled the room. She was pretty sure she’d pulled a muscle with her effort, but she ignored the pain in her shoulder and dropped to her knees. She ran her hand over the exposed wood of the underside of the desk.

Nothing.

She searched the legs of the desk, opened a drawer, and looked under it.

Nothing.

“Nothing! There’s nothing here.” Her blood started to boil. She punched the side of the desk once . . . twice . . .

Wade stopped her from doing it a third time. “Shhh.”

“Why?” She felt tears again. “Why would someone come in here and scrub away his blood?”

Before her mind could come to the right conclusion, she heard Armstrong say, “We need to open up Fedor Petrov’s file.”





Chapter Twenty-Five



There was a rule when dating that absolutely everyone knew and most followed. Don’t talk about your ex.

Unless the police were questioning you because the suicide of said ex had become a murder investigation a year after it happened.

Wade sat next to Trina while the detectives asked her questions about the day of Fedor’s death. She didn’t remember many details. She’d joined her husband on one of his many trips to the hospital. She’d left the hospital before Fedor, which wasn’t uncommon. Since her mother-in-law was chronically ill, a twenty-four-hour vigil wasn’t practiced. Although Trina had spent more time at the hospital that day, since Alice had slipped into a coma a couple of days before Fedor’s death.

Fedor worked out of an office in the city and would often return there after seeing his mother, and then come home late to eat and hibernate in his home office for hours. Which explained why Trina and Fedor had separate bedrooms. A question Wade had had since he first walked into her Hamptons home but didn’t want to ask.

The detectives left after what felt like hours of questions. The minute the door closed behind them, Wade expected everyone to take a step back and sigh. Only that didn’t happen.

Rick’s phone rang.

Lori reached for her purse and said she needed to call someone named Sam.

Reed turned toward one of the hidden cameras and said, “Did you catch all that? We need files on everything from that day.”

It was as if the room mobilized, and the only people surprised by the activity were Wade, Jeb, and Ike. The three of them watched the others in silence.

“Are you okay?” Shannon had moved to Trina’s other side.

Wade put his attention back on the woman who had stolen his attention since the day he set eyes on her.

“I should have known. Everyone painted Fedor as weak and capable of killing himself. He wasn’t weak, he was losing the only woman who loved him with every ounce of her being. He was sad and distraught over not being able to stop it.”

“Trina?” Rick had lifted the phone from his ear to grab her attention.

She swiveled her head.

“The security system you had before . . . were there cameras?”

“Only at the gate to see who was driving in. Everything else was basic burglar and fire alarm stuff.”

Rick nodded and repeated what she said to whomever he was talking to on the phone.

Lori returned after making her call in another room.

Reed sat on the arm of one of the overstuffed chairs, and Rick concluded his call to join them. “We launch our own investigation,” Rick told Reed.

“Follow the money,” Reed said.

“The money ended up with me,” Trina sighed.

“But it wasn’t supposed to,” Lori pointed out. “Fedor’s trust placed his assets back into Everson Oil’s hands. Fedor’s private company was divided between the shareholders, with the controlling interest given to Everson Oil.”

“He didn’t leave it to you?” Wade asked.

“No. I told you, we had a prenuptial agreement.”

Rick turned to Lori. “Is there any way we can get Alice’s estate attorney to reveal what her original will stated, the one she had before adding Trina to it?”

“That’s a hard push. Attorney-client privilege extends after death.”

“Even in the case of a murder investigation?” Wade asked.

“Especially in the case of a murder investigation. It’s part of the reason it was brought into law in the first place. A client needs to be honest with their lawyers, and the only way we can get that out of everyone is to promise to keep what we know to ourselves.”

“But lawyers make mistakes. Sometimes they say things they shouldn’t,” Reed pointed out.

Lori and Reed stared at each other with unspoken words.

“So Lori has lunch with Alice’s estate attorney while we’re in New York and sees what she can find out.” Rick didn’t ask, he stated like his idea was a done deal.

“I don’t know about that. Isn’t that risky for you?” Shannon asked.

Lori blinked her gaze away from Reed’s to look at Trina. “Only if he is hiding something to protect Alice and her name after her death. Since I represented you and Fedor in your prenuptial and following his death, it isn’t uncommon for me to follow up. If it feels like he’s hedging me away from a conversation, we know he is protecting her, if not, he’ll tell me what he can.”

Reed sighed. “I guess that means we’re staying in town a little longer.”

“I have Cooper flying in first thing in the morning to take my place,” Rick said. “If word leaks out that Fedor’s suicide is now a murder investigation—and news like that always drains through the cracks—there’s going to be a lot more people with cameras at your gate.”

Wade listened to the entire conversation going on around him in silence until Rick mentioned the media. Then his thoughts turned to his own mother, and his own home.

He looked at Ike and Jeb, who had remained silent during the entire exchange.

“About that security system at my ranch . . .”

Rick looked at Wade and smiled. “On it.”



Jeb, Ike, and Wade volunteered to do a grocery store run before word got out. He used the alone time to hear concerns from the others.

“Let me get this straight,” Ike started the second they were in the car. “The woman you’ve known for what . . . two weeks? Is the widow of a man who committed suicide, but now we find out he was murdered right before the man’s mother dies . . . all the money ends up in Trina’s bank. Her BFF has the holy shit kicked out of her for reasons unknown. Their friends rally together as if they are on some kind of military mission, with bodyguards and surveillance that rivals the White House . . . and you want to date this woman?”

Jeb drove, and Wade twisted around in the passenger seat to address Ike. “Do you read, Ike?”

“You mean books?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes.”

“Did you ever read that book He’s Just Not That into You?”

“I saw the movie, why?” Ike asked.

“I didn’t see the movie, but one of the guys in the band had the book on our tour bus. I started reading it, and at first I thought, well, hell, this just sucks that there is a book out there to tell every woman all the secrets a man has. You know, the things we do and don’t do if we wanna keep a woman around, but we know it really isn’t going anywhere. It’s like a guidebook for women to wake up and realize when a guy isn’t in for the long run.”

“What does that have to do with this conversation?”

Wade held his hand in the air. “Hold up . . . I’m getting there. Then I kept reading, and I thought of myself and wondered if there was anyone out there that I was willing to be that man for. You know, the guy who always calls because he wants to, not because he’s expected to. The guy who remembers important dates and the things a woman says because he actually listened.”

Ike bounced in the back seat when the car hit a pothole. “That’s Trina?”

Wade shrugged and smiled.

“Two weeks, Wade! You can’t know that in two weeks.”

“Maybe that’s true. But I’ll never get to three weeks to find out if that woman is Trina if I leave now.”

Ike rolled his eyes and sat back in the seat and turned his head toward the window. “You have a hero complex. You see a woman you can rescue and you’re putting on a cape.”

Wade looked at Ike like he was crazy. “Did you see all the firepower in that room? That Rick guy makes Jeb here look like his scrawny stepbrother.”

“Hey, watch it!” Jeb said without heat.

“I don’t need to put on a cape for her when she’s surrounded by Marvel superheroes.”

Ike sat forward. “You know I’d do just about anything for you, but blowing smoke up your ass by saying she’s worth it isn’t in my capabilities.”