Free The Investigator by Chris Taylor

Riley did.
    Sucking in a ragged breath through his tightly clenched teeth, Riley released him and stepped away.
    Darryl made a show of shaking his shirt free. With his hands fisted at his sides, Riley drew in gulps of air. If he cared for his career at all, regardless of his suspicions, he had to leave. Now .
    He turned toward the entryway. Unable to resist a parting shot, he swung back and narrowed his gaze on Darryl’s. “Don’t go leaving town.”
    Watson smiled complacently. “Don’t worry, Munro. I’m not the one going anywhere. Oh, and by the way, you were right. I remember now. The ship departed on July tenth.”
    With his anger simmering just below the surface, Riley turned and strode to the door. The flawless front yard confronted him again and he smiled without humor. Now he saw it was all an elaborate facade. He didn’t know what other secrets Watson was hiding beneath his veneer of polish, but Riley sure as hell aimed to find out.
    * * *
    Darryl watched from the front window as the unmarked police car reversed out of his driveway and headed in the direction of town. He still seethed at the audacity of the young detective who had invaded his home.
    Who the fuck did the prick think he was, marching into Darryl’s house and poking his nose into Darryl’s business? And not only interfering where he was clearly not wanted, but the bastard had the gall to accuse him of doing away with Rosemary. He may not have said it in so many words, but neither of them had been in any doubt about what he’d meant.
    Where did the asshole get off? Didn’t he know who Darryl was? The prick said he’d been in town a few months. Surely, word had filtered down to him about the importance of staying on the good side of the former commander?
    Darryl’s eyes narrowed in disgust. Either the police grapevine had failed to do its job, or his influence in the force had diminished.
    He refused to believe the latter. It wasn’t possible. Watervale’s police force was still comprised of many of his friends—friends who had benefited greatly, both professionally and financially, from Darryl’s influence. There was no way they would turn their backs on him. They owed him too much.
    All it would take was a quiet word in the ear of someone who mattered and their lives would be destroyed. He hadn’t spent the better part of three decades in the police force without acquiring a considerable number of favors…
    His thoughts returned to the young detective and another wave of anger surged through him. It was just his luck that his slut of a stepdaughter had filed the missing person’s report with a newcomer. Almost every other copper in the station would have nodded and patted her hand and offered all of the expected platitudes and then would have promptly filed the report in the trash.
    But she’d been interviewed by the new prick and he’d lived right and royally up to his name. When he’d called Darryl and questioned him about Rosemary’s whereabouts, it had become obvious the newcomer hadn’t been initiated into the way things worked in Watervale. If he had, the call to Darryl would never have happened.
    Darryl was secretly relieved to have been given advance notice that he would have to work a little harder to maintain his deception. He’d formulated a plan and when the young detective had come calling, as Darryl knew he would, he’d been ready for him, right down to the travel brochure he’d oh-so-casually laid out across the coffee table. Everything had been going dandy until the prick had spied the will.
    Darryl cursed, part of his anger now directed toward himself. It had been a stupid mistake leaving the will on Rosemary’s desk. He’d tossed it there in a fit of pique nearly a month ago and hadn’t given it another thought. It had been careless and if there was one thing he prided himself on, it was knowing how to be careful.
    Not that it mattered too much. What he’d told the detective was true. Rosemary owned