“Sorry to bother you on a Saturday morning,” he said, moving past pleasantries. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? It could help with a case I’m working on and I’m kind of on a tight timeline here.”
“Not at all.” Delores beamed, waving him inside. “Please excuse the mess. I had a late night working on a story.” She cleared two empty coffee mugs off the small dining room table and motioned to one of the chairs. “Would you like some coffee? I can make a pot really quickly.”
Caleb waved her off.
“No, but thank you. I’ve already had more than a few cups this morning.”
Delores perched on the edge of her seat and slid into a familiar look. Eyes sharp, brows furrowed, jaw hard. She had gone from a slightly flustered, tired woman to a reporter paying rapt attention.
“Alright. So, what can I help you with, Detective?”
“How long have you been writing for the Overlook Explorer?”
She thought about it for a moment.
“Almost six years. Though I moved back home to Alabama for a year during that time. I came back eight months or so ago.” Caleb made a mental note of that. He kept his detective’s pad in the car. If there was one thing he’d learned over his career it was how to keep reporters friendly. In his experience they weren’t fans of role reversal, just like he wasn’t a fan of being questioned as a detective.
“In that time how many stories do you think you’ve covered for the paper?”
“Oh, wow,” she said around a laugh. “A lot. Um, let’s see. The first year or so I actually did more copyediting than writing but since then I’ve written in almost every edition. Minus the year I was gone. So, once a week for around five years. I’ll let you do the math on that one.”
Caleb didn’t have to do it. No matter what the math added up to, it still showed the same conclusion. She had written a lot of articles because she was one of the few staff writers who worked at the paper. It had to be a coincidence. Still, Caleb wanted to finish asking his questions.
“How many times would you say that your stories have been features on the front page, above the fold?”
Delores had to think about that one too. Her eyes unfocused as she tried to remember.
“Since I’m not a senior staffer and also still do split my time between writing and copyediting, I typically don’t cover the stories that land there but I’ve had maybe about twenty or so while at the Explorer. More if you count beneath the fold.”
Caleb could see the curiosity in her pushing to the forefront. Soon she’d be the one asking questions so he hurried to his next point.
“I’m going to list out six of your stories that made it above the fold and then ask you a few questions about those, then I’ll explain. That sound fair?”
Delores nodded. As far as Caleb could tell, no suspicion had crossed the woman’s features. She was no more guarded or worried than he was. It was a breath of fresh air compared to when he had to question obviously guilty parties as a part of his job. There was just something to be said about not worrying that the person you were talking to was trying to figure out if they should fight or flee.
Caleb listed her articles about the fire at Angelica DeMarko’s house, the new restaurant opening on Main Street, Gloria’s fundraiser, the Overlook Pass, the Gentrys trying to revitalize Overlook’s nightlife and the article about his closing the Keaton case. Again, Delores hung on his every word, brows pulled together in thought.
“Okay. I remember all of those,” she said after a moment. “Why do you bring them up?”
“Is there anything about those stories that seemed weird? Something that maybe stood out to you or maybe connected them all?”
Delores looked down at her hands folded on the table’s top. Caleb gave her time to think it through. If she didn’t flag anything then he was going to count this as a dead end. Then he’d go back to the drawing board and hope the arsonist didn’t strike again before he found a different trail.
“I’m sorry,” Delores finally answered. “I can’t think of anything that really jumps out at me other than those were the last six articles I wrote.”
“What do you mean? The last six that made it above the fold or in general?”
“In general.” She held up her index finger and went into the next room. She came back a minute later with what looked like a planner. “Let me make sure.” Caleb saw every day was filled with writing as she flipped through the previous months. She stopped at one in particular and then turned the book so he could see it easier. “The story about Gloria’s fundraiser for strays was my last story in the paper before I went to Alabama. Before that, the fire and the restaurant.” She flipped forward and stopped again. “And this is when I came back. Marla went on maternity leave so I took over the bulk of copyediting with some website work thrown in. That’s why I’ve only written three articles since I’ve been back. It just so happened to be three that landed the front page.”
Caleb chewed that over for a moment. He wondered if his father would have thought that was enough to be a connection. And that caught Caleb by surprise. It had been a long while since he’d tried to puzzle out what his father would have said about a case.
“What’s special about these last few stories?” Delores asked. Caleb decided to answer truthfully. Thinking of his father, no matter how briefly, reminded him of one of his father’s rules in law enforcement.
Give the truth to get the truth.
So Caleb told her about the five fires that had each happened one week after her stories ran on the front page. When he got to his house fire, he even gave her privileged information that fireworks had been the cause.
“All of this is off the record,” he pointed out, after her eyes widened when he was done. “This is still an ongoing investigation. I just wanted to see if there might be a connection or if you had any information I’m missing.”
Delores’s gaze was unfocused again in thought. Caleb pulled out his card. She apologized and stood with him after taking it.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I knew it was a stretch. Just let me know if you think of anything else that might be helpful.”
“I will.”
Delores walked him back outside but hung in the doorway as he opened his truck door. For a moment it looked like she didn’t know what to say. Then she called out to him.
“The fire at your house... Was anyone hurt? I mean, I assume not because you didn’t mention it, but I just wanted to be sure.”
Caleb meant to smile, to be polite, but he couldn’t stomach it. He shook his head.
“All I lost was everything I owned.”
Delores didn’t respond. Instead she closed her door with a sinking frown.
Caleb’s mood had fallen, too. He pulled out of the parking lot and, for a moment, found himself wishing there was a raven-haired woman sitting there with him. Hours later, sitting frustrated at his desk, that feeling surfaced again.
It left just as quickly as before, though not of his volition.
Jazz’s ID scrolled across his phone’s screen. As soon as he answered she was talking.
“Caleb, something’s happened and it’s not good.”
Chapter Eleven
Caleb met Jazz in the hospital’s lobby. Declan arrived separately but timed it just right, walking up to them before she could start to talk. She had her detective’s badge around her neck and a scowl across her face. There was blood on her blouse. Caleb already knew it wasn’t hers but the sight made him angry. Outside of his siblings, Jazz was his best friend.
“How is he?” Declan asked, phone pressed against his ear but attention fully on the detective.
“Tough to look at.” She motioned to the blood on herself. “I barely touched him when I was helping the EMTs get him out of his house and still had this happen.” She shook her head. “There’s a strong chance he won’t
survive the night. It’s a miracle he’s even breathing now. My personal and professional opinion? Whoever did that to him didn’t intend for him to live. I think they just got spooked by the girlfriend showing up and bolted before the job was done.”
“What do we know? Any idea who did this?” Caleb asked. “Did the girlfriend know?”
“No. She came over after her shift started when she found him. She heard a car drive off but was too hysterical to look for it. She said that everyone loves him and can’t imagine who would do such a thing but, honestly, I think that’s just shock talking. We had two people in the last week or so press charges against him.” Jazz gave Caleb a wary look. He decided to get out in front of the accusation, whether or not she would make it.
“I called Claire on the way over here and, like every Saturday afternoon, she was at the shop. And Nina has been with Mom and Molly all day. There’s no way either could have attacked him.”
Jazz held up her hands in surrender.
“All I was saying is that Daniel Covington doesn’t have this great track record his girlfriend thinks he does. To be honest, I don’t even think she knows about the email he sent Nina.”
Caleb pushed down his anger. Even if he didn’t like Daniel, what he disliked more was the timing of the attack. The creep who had taken Nina’s picture at the stream and then taunted her with it was now clinging to life in the hospital. It didn’t feel right.
“I need to talk to his girlfriend,” Declan declared. “Where is she?”
“Down there and to the left. They’re prepping Daniel for surgery, so Brando is waiting in the hallway with her.” Jazz pointed behind them to her husband, who sat with a girl Caleb didn’t recognize. “He was already here at the hospital visiting his sister, so that was a stroke of good fortune on our part. He had to use his magic soothing voice to calm her down.” She stopped Declan before he could leave. “She’s not a fan of the cops, which is another reason why I left Brando with her. Tread lightly with this one. I have a feeling she’s close to shutting down on helping us soon.”
Declan nodded and was off. Jazz redirected to Caleb. She was frowning.
“Daniel may be annoying but we’ve never had him pop up on our radar like this before,” she said. “The last offense that caught our attention was when he taped that freshman boy to that tree when he was seventeen. Now we have a decent amount of creepiness, harassment and trespassing? And then he gets beaten nearly to death in his own home? Why? What do you think we’re looking at here? Another coincidence?”
“I’ve been throwing that word around a lot lately and I don’t like it,” Caleb admitted. “Do you know if whoever did this broke into Daniel’s place or did Daniel let him in?”
“As best as I could tell he was let in. There were no busted windows or locks. Either the door was unlocked or Daniel let them in. I’m about to go back there now and take a better look. We have two deputies sitting on the place so no one disturbs it.” Jazz looked at him with a considerable amount of concern. “Daniel camps out in the woods, takes a picture of Nina, breaks into Claire’s office, uses her personal computer to send that picture and then gets caught. He gets arrested for breaking into Claire’s and then bailed out. Then he gets attacked and almost killed a few days later. And during all of this, someone burns down Overlook Pass, the Gentrys’ house and yours.” She took a small step closer and lowered her voice. “We went from a relatively sleepy town to whatever this is in the stretch of two weeks? Caleb, what’s going on?”
Caleb wished he had a concrete answer.
He didn’t.
* * *
THE NIGHT WAS cool and beautiful.
The town was far enough away that the lights from Main Street didn’t reach the ranch. Nina stood in front of the Retreat, staring up and marveling at the stars. They were scattered across the sky like electric sand. Dazzling. Worth more than just a second of her time.
Yet there was somewhere she had to be.
Smoothing down the pale blue dress she’d bought from a boutique that morning, Nina tried to quell the nerves that had taken over since she’d gotten back from the barn. Dorothy, Molly and she had spent the entire day shopping, cleaning and decorating the old red barn a few minutes from where Nina now stood. It was supposed to give them an idea for future ways to entertain Retreat guests but had had a more immediate effect.
Molly’s mood had gone from annoyed to cheerful.
The weight pulling down Dorothy’s shoulders, despite her winning smile, had turned into a fierce determination.
And Nina? Well, she’d forgotten for a while that her plan to stay beneath the radar and out of trouble had failed. That the only chance she had at a new life was hanging on a Retreat that may or may not ever open. That, even though she was two states away from Florida and the tragedy of her mother’s untimely death, smoke and fire had found their way back to her.
Putting together the party had lifted all of their spirits.
Nina inhaled the cool night air before releasing one long, body-dragging exhale. The tension in her shoulders lessened. Her weight shifted the heels of her sandals into the dirt. Somewhere in the distance the melody of insects started up, much closer was the sound of a man clearing his throat.
Her cheeks flushed with heat as she turned. Caleb was wearing what she had come to think of as his trademark grin.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said. “But if I didn’t, my growling stomach would have.”
Nina tried not to look the man up and down—really tried—but with the soft glow of the office’s porch light behind him, she couldn’t help but take him in. All the pieces of his work and day-to-day attire were there. His classic button-up shirt, crisp and fitted, his blue jeans, dark, fit him in all the right places and his boots made up the ensemble she was used to seeing.
Yet it was like they had been repurposed somehow. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and the neck of his shirt was unbuttoned to just beneath his collarbone, showing off some of his bare chest. It was still tucked into his jeans and there was a casual swagger to the way they hung on his hips. Like the artist Michelangelo had painted them on the cowboy.
Or maybe Nina was just full of it.
She’d already noticed, several times in fact, that Caleb always looked good. Smile or not, she couldn’t deny he stirred something in her just by being near.
Her eyes slid down and then up his body before landing on that grin. From there they traveled to those baby blues. There she stayed.
“Did you walk here?” she asked, trying to still the nerves that had just sprung alive in her stomach. Her car was the only one in the parking area that she could see.
Caleb nodded.
“After everything that’s happened, I was itching for a nice night.” His grin grew. “And just like that, I got one. I thought I’d take advantage of it.” He sidled up beside her and held out his elbow. “How do you feel about taking a stroll to a barn that Desmond once told me was haunted by the ghost of the Roaming Mountain Lady?”
Nina surprised herself by hooking her arm through his and laughed.
“The Roaming Mountain Lady?”
“A faceless woman with bangles that clatter up and down her arms, and several skirts and scarves made for suffocating little kids who have the deep misfortune of hearing her moaning in the rafters.” Caleb laughed at Nina’s questioning look. “Desmond had a flair for the dramatic when we were younger. I think that’s why he’s so good at his job as a businessman. He’s good at helping people see his vision and ideas. He’s always been able to spin a story, truth or otherwise, in a pinch. Still, I’m not above admitting that, to this day, the barn gives me the heebie-jeebies. You might have to save my life again if she makes an appearance. I don’t think my gun would work on a ghost.”
Nina patted his forearm with her free hand.
“I’ll do my best, detective. I won’t let the mou
ntain lady get you.”
They followed the dirt path that led through the Retreat before branching off and cutting through a stretch of nothing but grass. Nina told him about their tentative plans to turn the barn into an indoor–outdoor camping ground in bad weather plus a few other ideas the three women had thrown together as they decorated. The soft sound of music in the distance became louder, pulling them in. Caleb thought their ideas were great but the closer they came to the music and the barn, the more his steps slowed. Nina glanced over and saw his eyes weren’t entirely focused on the world in front of him.
“Is everything okay?” she asked timidly. Since he hadn’t come right out and told her any news about the arsonist, Nina assumed he’d found nothing but dead ends. She’d decided not to push it, waiting for him to open up instead, something of a pattern when it came to how she interacted with the man. However, this time, her patience ended. Caleb’s thoughts were being drowned by something. “Did you get a chance to talk to Delores today?”
“Yeah, I did, but it wasn’t as enlightening as we’d hoped.” He recapped what he’d learned, ending with a sigh. “I even talked to Arlo, the owner of the paper, on the phone today and poked around a bit. He confirmed what Delores said and even gave her alibis for three of the fires due to work. I wasn’t accusing her of anything but Arlo is a good guy and wanted to make sure we knew she was on the up-and-up. I also think he wants her to marry his son, but that is just a piece of gossip I heard from Mom.”
Nina smiled into the night. The way Caleb talked about his mother, no matter how small the detail, rang clearly with love. It was touching, even if the end of their lead was not.
“So, back to the drawing board, then?”
Caleb slowed to a stop. The back of the barn was visible in the distance. The outdoor lights made the once derelict building glow with joy. Yet Caleb had turned his entire focus on her.
Reining In Trouble (Winding Road Redemption Book 1) Page 10