As much as he wanted to know what Knox had to share, Archer wanted to make sure Cassie had some time to rest and decompress before setting her up for what very well may be another disappointing dead end.
Hours earlier, during their drive from the cemetery to here, she’d mentioned needing to go into her firm’s office first thing in the morning to take care of a few things she hadn’t gotten to before her arrest. Not wanting her out in public any more than was necessary, Archer had initially begun to protest. But when Cassie informed him Ed had closed the offices for a few days—to give himself and their staff time to process the unexpected upheaval of their workplace—he’d finally given in.
Knox’s response came through with a ding. Glancing down at the screen, Archer saw the man had simply sent a thumbs-up emoji and nothing else.
With that taken care of, he shot off a second text, this time to the group feed he and the others shared. After letting them know of tomorrow’s plans, he slid the phone into the back pocket of his black dress pants and leaned his elbows on the deck’s wooden railing.
An unseasonally warm breeze blew past, the soft wind blowing the subtle waves of Archer’s bangs into his eyes. Raking a hand through his thick hair, he cleared his vision and looked out over the water.
What the fuck am I going to do?
He ran a palm over his closely-shaven beard, his fist clutching his jaw as he considered the big, messy picture…
His client had been charged with murdering her estranged husband. She’d willingly admitted to giving the man a glass of wine laced with poison, the police had no other suspects, nor were they bothering tolookfor any, and the woman’s father-in-law seemed hell bent on seeing to it Cassie spent the rest of her life behind bars.
Someone had vandalized her property—had threatened her, as far as Archer was concerned—and her piece-of-shit neighbors had already proven themselves too selfish to be of any use. The trial date had yet to be set, but he knew it was only a matter of time.
That phone call could come tomorrow, and if it did, Cassie would be well and thoroughly fucked.
I’m failing her.
His heart physically hurt from that knowledge, because damn it…he’dpromisedto make things right where Cassie’s future was concerned. Archer had looked her square in those gorgeous baby blues, and he’d vowed to find the person responsible for completely upending her life.
And he still had no fucking clue who the bastard was.
Pushing himself off the railing, a frustrated Archer turned and marched back inside. With more force than was necessary, he pulled the massive accordion-style doors shut before making his way past the round kitchen table and into the living room.
Filled with nervous energy, he began to pace. Back and forth across the expensive flooring, Archer’s boots covered several steps without any real destination in mind.
A strange sound interrupted his motions, and he stopped mid-stride to listen. At first, he didn’t hear anything more, but then…
There it is again.
Okay, he’d definitely heard it that time. The sound was muffled, but it was there. And whatever it was, it hadn’t comefrom upstairs, where Cassie would be. No, this came someplace near the front of the house.
Reaching his right hand around to his back, Archer freed the Glock 19 from the small leather holster on his hip. He pulled back the slide, double-checking that there was a live round in the chamber.
An old habit that had been instilled in him long ago, and one he’d most likely never break.
With silent steps he’d been trained to use, he held the gun up and at the ready as he made his way down the hall and back toward the foyer. The beating of his heart grew stronger. The muscles in his forearms locking up tight as he closed the distance between him and the ongoing noise.
As he neared the home’s front entrance, Archer was able to determine the source was coming from inside the garage. The same garage he and his team had just been in.
A space that, aside from a few neatly kept shelves and Cassie’s car, had been otherwise empty.
He reached the door he’d only recently walked through. Adjusting the grip on his weapon, he held it steady with his right hand while turning the metal knob with his left.
The veins in his forearms bulged beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white dress shirt, and just as he began to pull the door open, a loud bang came from the other side.
Stealth forgotten, Archer swung open the door. Though the space was dark, he spotted a shadow moving near a shelf positioned along the wall opposite from where he stood.
With the lights off, and Cassie’s car partially obstructing his view, it was impossible to see the person’s face, or even their head. But as Archer slowly made his way down the two concrete steps and onto the smooth garage floor, he could tell the bastard had his back to him.
And when he’d made it halfway around the car’s front bumper, he realized the uninvited guest was bent over, putting stuff back inside what appeared to be a fallen box.
Archer stopped where he was, having enough of a clear shot from there, if he needed one. Using the car as partial cover for himself, he told the intruder, “Move another fucking muscle, asshole, andmynext move will be to pull this trigger.”
The person froze but kept their head down.