by Jane Hinchey
Oh boy. I had a bad feeling about this investigation.
Dwight straightened and nodded. “Good thinking. Yes.” He pulled out his phone and began taking photos from various angles. Ghost Henry waited at the shoreline, watching from a distance. I meandered over to stand next to him. “How you holding up?” I whispered out the corner of my mouth.
“The Sheriff will get this solved in no time,” he said confidently.
“You think so?” I didn’t share Henry’s confidence. I had a sinking feeling Dwight was entirely capable of botching the entire investigation.
I unabashedly eavesdropped as Galloway explained to the Sheriff, “the golden rule of crime scene investigation is do not touch, change, or alter anything until it has been identified, measured, and photographed.”
Dwight, to his credit, listened intently, nodding along. He’d be a wise man to accept Galloway’s advice on this. Once the scene was photographed, Galloway indicated the tree line on the horizon, across the frozen lake. “See the way the body has fallen? That tells us he was facing in that direction when he was shot.”
“Right.”
“And the bullet wound looks to be a direct hit to the heart, so Henry would have died instantly.”
“Okay.” Dwight shrugged, clearly unsure of why that information was relevant.
Galloway raised his arm and pointed. “How far would you say it is, from one side of the lake to the other?”
Dwight scratched his head. “About eight hundred yards or thereabouts.”
“Agreed.”
“Right.”
“So first of all, we’ve got a shooter who is experienced enough to shoot over not water, but ice. The potential for ricochet is high. And incredibly risky. Not to mention a kill shot from that distance? The shooter would have to calculate ballistics in regard to wind and atmospheric conditions.”
“So, you’re saying we have a sniper on our hands?” Dwight frowned.
“A very experienced shooter. This could be done with a rifle and a decent scope,” Galloway paused, letting Dwight digest the information he’d just given him. “Who’s your best shot in Willow Lake?”
Dwight scratched his chin, took off his hat, and slapped his thigh with it before putting it back on his head. “Well now, could be almost half the residents of Willow Lake could make that shot, I would think.”
“Really?” I was shocked that Willow Lake was home to that many sharpshooters. And it made me rethink standing here on the shoreline in clear sight. What if the shooter was still out there, watching us now? What if they decided the best way to avoid getting caught was to kill us all? Okay, I admit, my imagination was getting the better of me… I blamed it on the cold.
“Most folks like to hunt,” Dwight pointed out. “Which means most own rifles.”
“Who lives across there?” Galloway pointed across the lake.
“Most of its national park. And then there’s Greta and Bobby Vaughn’s cabin.”
“And that’s it? No-one else lives over there?”
“Like I said, most of its national park. The Vaughn’s own a small parcel of land. It’s not the best land, despite the view. Most folks choose to buy on this side of the lake.”
“Why’s that?”
“Wind chill factor, north-facing, fewer bears.” Dwight rattled off on his fingers. “Plus, the road leading into the national park runs right across the back of their property, constant traffic, hikers, fisherman, hunters.”
I waited for Dwight to put the pieces together, but it appears he hadn’t connected the dots. Yet. If Greta and Bobby Vaughn owned the only cabin on that side of the lake, and any traffic coming in and out of the national park had to pass by their place, he’d best be speaking with them about who they’d seen passing by in the last twenty-four hours. At least that would be my next move, once he’d gotten Henry’s body sorted.
“Okay, well, thanks for your help, but I’m gonna have to ask y’all to leave. This area is a crime scene.” Dwight surprised me by announcing. I shared a look with Galloway, who shrugged.
“You’re sure?” I was highly skeptical that Dwight had this under control, but Galloway made a little throat-cutting gesture, so I clamped my lips shut.
“I know where to find you,” Dwight replied, turning his back on us and returning to his examination of Henry’s body.
“Let’s go,” Galloway whispered in my ear while wrapping his hand around mine and guiding me toward the path. The ghosts of Ben and Henry trailed silently behind us, while our boots crunched in the snow. As soon as we were out of earshot, I turned to him. “We’re not leaving this entirely up to the Sheriff, are we? Cos I’ve known him for a long time and no offense, but I’m not sure—”
“Relax, super sleuth,” Galloway cut in. “I know you’re not going to be able to keep your nose out of this.”
I stopped, pulling him to a halt. “Does that mean?” I held my breath.
He grinned. “Yes, it means.”
I squealed then clamped a hand over my mouth as my shriek echoed through the woods. Reaching up, I cupped Galloway’s face in my hands and tugged his head down to mine before planting a kiss on him.
“What does it mean?” I heard Henry ask Ben.
“It means they’re going to investigate your untimely demise themselves,” Ben replied.
“Right, right.” A pause. “And that’s a good thing?”
“Definitely. Audrey solved my murder. And Galloway is a damned fine Detective. You’ve got two of the best on the case.”
Galloway slowly broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against mine. “Are you still wearing your PJs under that coat?”
“I wasn’t expecting to be running around outside at dawn,” I protested. “If I had, I would have dressed accordingly.”
“Right, well, you can’t be gallivanting across the countryside in your pajamas. Let’s get you dressed and caffeinated and then take a drive across the lake.”
“To visit the Vaughn’s?”
“I’m curious as to who’s been over there in the last twenty-four hours.”
Me too.
4
I hadn’t realized how long I’d been out in the woods. As we let ourselves in through the back door, Thor rushing ahead of us, I was gobsmacked to find my entire family not only up, but dressed and seated at the dining table.
“What’s the time?” I whispered out the corner of my mouth to Galloway. He glanced at his watch.
“Almost nine.”
“And just what, exactly, have you two been up to?” My sister, Laura, demanded, shoveling a piece of pancake into her mouth while pointing her fork at us. “You’re all flushed!”
I rolled my eyes, not missing the innuendo. “Get your mind out of the gutter, it’s not what you think.”
“Couldn’t sleep, love?” Mom asked, eyeing me up and down. “Were you outside in your pajamas?”
“Yes. And I know it was a bad idea, okay?” Because despite pulling on a coat, hat, scarf, and gloves, I was pretty sure my legs were frozen solid. I hadn’t noticed it while outside, but now I was in the toasty warmth of the lake house, I could feel the sting of pins and needles as they started to defrost.
“Audrey Fitzgerald,” Mom tskd, “go upstairs and straight into a hot shower. The last thing we need is you with hypothermia.”
“I can think of better ways to warm up,” my brother, Dustin, teased. Amanda smacked his arm but her lips curled in a cheeky grin.
“Okay, okay. I’m going. But guys, some bad news… Henry Peterson is dead. Galloway will fill you in.” I flashed Galloway a silent apology for leaving him with the fallout of my announcement as I hightailed it upstairs, Ben and Henry following. At the bathroom door, I stopped and turned.
“Right. Rule one about ghosthood. No following ladies into bathrooms.”
Ben smirked. “Where’s the lady?”
“Har har, smarty pants. You may wait here and talk to me through the door.”
Henry frowned. “Won’t pe
ople—your family—notice?”
“Sure. But they think I’m nuts anyway.” I winked and closed the door. “Now, tell me everything!” I demanded. “What exactly do you remember from yesterday? Who did you talk to? Where did you go? Any little thing can be a clue.” Flipping on the shower, I stripped out of my PJs. The pant legs were cold and soggy, and I tossed them into the tub so as not to leave a puddle on the floor. “Start from when you got up in the morning, I want to know your movements.” There had to be a reason someone shot him. He crossed someone’s path, whether it was yesterday or days ago, I couldn’t say, but there was no doubt in my mind that Henry had been specifically targeted.
“Oh, and speak up so I can hear you over the shower.”
Stepping beneath the water, I let out a little shriek as the needles of hot water hit my cold legs.
“Everything okay in there?” Ben called out.
“I’m fine. Cold legs, hot shower. C’mon Henry, you’re up, tell me about your day.”
“Well, it started out pretty normally. I got up, had my breakfast. Ken dropped in.”
“Oh? What did he want?”
“We often have a morning coffee together before he goes out taking photos of things. Though lord knows what he finds so darn interesting through that lens of his. A snowscape is a snowscape is a snowscape,” Henry grumbled. I grinned. Much like Henry’s obsession with Christmas, Ken was photography mad. When he wasn’t playing Santa at the Christmas Eve Concert, he was running around, taking photographs of everyone and everything.
“Okay, then what?”
“I went into town. I had a doctor's appointment. And I needed to grab some more hot chocolate. Ken spilled the last of it, got it all over his coat too, what a mess he made.”
I lathered myself up as I listened to Henry’s rendition of his day. Nothing jumped out at me. He’d gone for his checkup, picked up a few things from the store, had called in to check on prep at the town hall for the big concert, then he’d gone home. He’d stopped at the stop sign. He hadn’t had any near misses with pedestrians nor other vehicles. Why, then, had someone shot him?
Turning off the shower, I stepped out, quickly wrapping myself in a big fluffy towel.
“Oh, hey, I think Ken’s here!” Henry said, his voice fading.
“You still there, Ben?” I wiped away the condensation on the mirror and tugged my hair out of the tie it had barely managed to scrape into. The blonde strands stuck out in every direction. While it would have been nice to wash it and spend way too long trying to style it into something resembling a style, I gave it a quick brush before pulling it back into the untidy ponytail I’d adopted as of late.
“Yep. You decent?”
I glanced down at the towel. “Kinda. Come on in.”
He walked through the door, his ghostly form eerie in the steam of the bathroom. “You look suitably ghoulish,” I told him in the mirror, squirting moisturizer in my hand and rubbing it over my face. Amanda would be horrified at my skincare routine, which was basic, to say the least. I’d seen her toiletries bag. Jars, and tubes of expensive skin creams and cleansers, lotions, and potions.
“Henry’s a nice guy,” Ben said, ignoring my comment. “Hard to believe he’d have any enemies in Willow Lake.”
“I know, right? We need to get out to the Vaughn’s place, see what they know.”
“Don’t trust the Sheriff to do his job?”
“Ha!” I scoffed. “Dwight has no clue. I don’t want the investigation into Henry’s death botched. He deserves better. He deserves his killer being brought to justice. Even if it was a hunter from across the lake that mistook him for… well, I don’t know what you’d mistake a man dressed in a Santa suit for, but there has to be an explanation, and I’m determined to get to the bottom of it.”
“Better get dressed and get your butt downstairs then, because, by the sounds of things, your family wants to get involved too.”
“What?” Flinging open the bathroom door, I dashed across the hall to the room I shared with Galloway. I’d been pleasantly surprised by how cool Mom had been about us sleeping in the same bed. I’d thought for sure she’d make him camp downstairs on the couch, but she hadn’t batted an eyelid when we’d rolled in, and I’d instructed him to take our bags upstairs to my room. Not that we’d done anything other than sleep!
“The last thing we need is that lot steamrolling any evidence,” I grumbled, hurrying over to my suitcase and rummaging for a clean pair of jeans.
“They might be useful,” Ben said, obediently turning his back when I twirled my finger in the air. Dropping the towel, I dressed in record time.
“How so?”
“Give them tasks to make them feel a part of it,” he suggested. “Everyone likes to have a job to do, to feel included or involved.”
“Tasks? Like what?”
“Come on, Fitz, do I have to do all the thinking? You’re a bonafide PI now.”
True. Okay. Tasks to keep my family occupied but also out of harm's way. If they accidentally stumbled across the killer, any one of them could be in his—or her—crosshairs, and the chill that shot up my spine was terrifying. If anything happened to my family… I deliberately halted that train of thought.
“No. I’ve decided I can’t risk it. There is absolutely no way they are getting involved.”
“You all have your assignments,” Galloway addressed my family, who was still seated at the dining table, looking up at him with rapt attention. “Get to it.”
I scowled, arms crossed over my chest, while they all shot to their feet, wrapped themselves in coats and scarfs to ward off the cold, and bustled out the door en masse. Ben and Henry followed them out, which was a small consolation.
“It’s going to be fine,” Galloway sighed, draping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me in for a hug. I stood stiffly in his arms, not appeased in the slightest.
“You don’t know that,” I grumbled.
“They are adults, and they won’t take any stupid risks. Plus, no-one will suspect that they’re fishing for information, not a bunch of out-of-towners with kids in tow.”
My heart almost stuttered to a stop. Seeing the expression on my face, Galloway cupped my chin in one strong hand and forced me to meet his eyes. Damn him for being all gorgeous and mesmerizing.
“It will be fine. I won’t let anything happen to them. They’re just going into town and basically listening to the locals. Word will have gotten out about Henry’s death. They can be our eyes and ears while we go out to the Vaughn’s.”
He had a point. “I still don’t like it.” But I melted against him and basked in his warmth, especially when his hands slid down to my lower back and slipped beneath my sweater. “How long do you think they’ll be gone?” I was mentally calculating if we could squeeze in a little lovin’ before investigating when Thor, who’d been asleep in front of the fire, yawned and stretched. “Have that lot gone?” he asked.
“Yes, they’ve gone. Why’s that?” I snapped my fingers. “No, wait, don’t tell me! You’re hungry.”
He sniffed, tail in the air. “I am a little peckish, but actually, I thought I’d slip next door and have a nose around.”
“What? You want to help find who killed Henry as well?” Color me surprised.
“I have a nose for these things.” He trotted over to the door and looked at me expectantly with his big orange eyes.
“Fine. Just be careful, okay?”
“I’m never not careful.”
I opened the door, and he breezed past me, trotting down the stairs and in the direction of Henry’s cabin, lifting his paws up high to clear the snow. It’d have been comical if I wasn’t so worried.
I jumped when Galloway wrapped his fingers around my nape.
“You’re really stressed today,” he murmured, massaging my tense muscles, “what’s that all about?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Maybe because this one is so close to home? Like, Henry? He is one of the nicest people. Wh
o would want to kill him? It’s just so… and my family… ” I chewed a fingernail.
“It’s sad about Henry, for sure,” Galloway said. “But I meant it. Your family will be fine. They’re just on edge. If we give them something to do, it will help focus all that energy.”
“You’re right.”
“I know.” His smirk spoke volumes.
I punched his arm. “Come on then, let’s go visit the Vaughn’s. I don’t want to leave Thor out in the cold too long.”
“He has a fur coat,” Galloway pointed out.
“Can’t you just humor me?” I pouted, accepting my coat that he handed me and shoving my feet into my boots.
“I can do anything you ask.” Then he kissed me, and if there was anything I knew about Captain Cowboy Hot Pants was that his kisses could melt ice and distract me from pretty much any topic under the sun.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” I said against his lips.
“What’s that?” His voice was a low rumble, hinting of deep desires, and long hot nights.
“Distracting me.” I pushed him away. “Come on, Detective. No fooling around until Henry’s murder is solved.”
He slapped my rear as we headed out the door. “Now, there’s an incentive I can get behind.”
5
It took half an hour to drive around to the opposite side of the lake. I’d been out here a time or two, visiting the national park, but I’d never given the ramshackle house you had to drive past to get to the park entrance much thought before, although it looked vaguely familiar. I eyed the building with critical eyes. Smoke plumed in the air from the chimney, and the faded green truck with patches of rust that sat in the driveway had definitely seen better days.
Galloway pulled in behind it and killed the engine.
“They’ve got a security camera,” I pointed to the camera that was affixed to the eves, aimed at the driveway.
“That could come in handy. Providing it’s working.”