by Dani Pettrey
“Handholds? Are you actually asking me to critique my buddy’s final climb?”
“I’m asking if he was having trouble gaining grip.”
“I don’t know. We weren’t side by side.”
“Was he complaining about anything?”
“I don’t know about women, but men don’t chitchat while climbing.”
She pushed past the insult, knowing she could outclimb him any day. “Do you know where Conrad bought his chalk?”
The light dimmed as the sky darkened a deeper shade of charcoal gray. Jake moved to the light switch situated by the door and flipped it. An older yellow droplight flicked to life overhead, bathing the room in a golden glow.
“I’m guessing the gym he always climbs at. They have a shop in the front.”
“Which gym?” Imnek only had one, so chances were . . .
“Rocktrex.”
That’s what she was afraid of. Brody’s gym.
“What about you?” Jake asked. “Did you use the same chalk as Conrad?”
“I always bring my own gear—shoes, chalk bag, chalk.” He glanced at his watch. “Are we done here? I really should be with Vivienne.”
“We’re done for now. How can we get in touch with you?”
“I’m staying at Vivienne and Conrad’s.” He fished something from his pocket. “Here’s my business card.” He scribbled a number on the back. “That’s my cell.”
“Thank you, Mr. Anderson. We appreciate your help.”
He gave a curt nod.
Kayden glanced over at Jake as Stuart exited the room. “What do you think?”
“Sounds like Conrad Humphries should never have been making that climb in the first place.”
5
Kayden followed the winding dirt road that led to Nanook Haven, a shelter for abused, neglected, and retired sled dogs; the Yancey Veterinary Clinic; and the private residence of the woman who ran both, Kirra Jacobs.
Kirra’s family had moved to Yancey when she was a kindergartner, in the same class as Kayden’s youngest brother, Reef. They’d grown up together, in a sense—the school only large enough to have one class per grade—but there had been no love lost between Kirra and Reef. The do-gooder and the town scamp.
None of that had any bearing on Kayden’s relationship with Kirra, however. Kirra had helped her father run Yancey’s search-and-rescue canine unit, while Kayden worked primarily with aerial SAR operations, but they had worked together often over the years, and Kayden liked and admired the dedicated woman.
After high school, with her parents’ assistance while she was away at college, Kirra had started taking in sled dogs that had been abandoned or were destined to be put down. Conventional wisdom declared the older sled dogs were past their prime, but she trained them as search-and-rescue dogs, with great success. The dogs still had more to give, even after their days of running the Iditarod were over. It hadn’t taken long for Kayden to become fascinated with Kirra’s canine-rescue work, and she’d been volunteering on a regular basis at Nanook Haven for years.
The predawn air wafting in Kayden’s windows was cool as she rounded the last bend. The fresh scent of Kirra’s sweet alyssum blossoms lining the drive drifted in—always such a welcoming aroma.
She pulled to a stop in front of the barn, knowing that was where Kirra would be at such an early hour, finishing up the dogs’ morning feeding before her veterinary practice hours began at eight.
Kayden’s responsibility was running the dogs to keep them in shape. A sled dog was no different from any other athlete—with age, they slowed some, but they never lost the urge to run.
Kirra stepped from the barn as Kayden stepped from her 4Runner—her metallic aqua ’97 SUV that everyone teased her for hanging on to. But it had been a sixteenth-birthday present from her dad, not long before he died, and it still ran great. As long as it ran, she’d drive it. It was foolish to get rid of something just because it was no longer deemed in style.
Kirra lifted her chin in greeting. She was average height and build, with shoulder-length blond hair she typically wore in a braid and vibrant blue eyes—the only remnant of her once-vibrant countenance.
When Kirra had returned after graduation a little over a year ago, she had been different. Maybe it was a result of her parents moving away to deal with her mother’s health issues and her taking over the vet practice from her father rather than partnering with him, as they had planned, but Kayden didn’t know that for sure. She only knew that something had moved Kirra from vibrant to guarded.
“You’re here earlier than usual,” Kirra said, slipping her hands into the pockets of her white vet coat.
Kayden glanced at her watch. Only by twenty minutes. “I have a feeling today’s going to be a busy one.” She planned on finishing up at Kirra’s, heading home for a quick shower, and then going straight to the ME’s office, praying the results were in by then and she could feel a sample of the chalk for herself. Simply holding the chalk would tell her so much—texture, consistency, etc.
She had no doubt Booth’s lab results would show discrepancies in the chalk, whether because of poor quality or something more sinister—either way, something wasn’t right.
“Thanks for still taking time to stop by,” Kirra said.
“Absolutely, and I can come back by tonight too.”
“No need to come twice. Carol will be here from eight to four.”
Carol Jones was such a blessing. After Kirra’s parents had left for Juneau, the canine shelter had been staffed by Kirra, herself, Jill from Cole’s youth group in the evenings, and the occasional volunteer or service group. Having Carol now volunteering on a regular basis during the day made covering the basics so much easier.
“I don’t mind coming back.” Kayden watched the dogs eating voraciously around her. “They need the exercise.” She bent down and signaled Rex, her favorite, to come. The husky jaunted over, excitement dancing in his ten-year-old eyes. She rubbed him behind the ear. “Plus it gives me an excuse to exercise.”
“Like you need an excuse.” Kirra laughed. “You’re a workout machine. Just like Rex here. Maybe that’s why you two get along so well.”
Apparently Rex didn’t play so well with the other volunteers, but she and Rex, they understood one another.
“Ready, boy?” She crouched.
He pawed the ground.
“Set.” She smiled.
He howled.
“Go.” She burst into a run, Rex flying beside her, the sun just peeking over the horizon. Life didn’t get much better than this.
Jake rapped on the morgue’s glass outer doors, his breath faintly visible in the early dawn air. Hard to believe they were going to reach a high near sixty-five today, but that’s what the weather forecast claimed. He’d be glad for it.
Last summer they’d had an exceptionally warm streak by Yancey standards. Unfortunately, this one seemed to be following the norm—average daily highs in the low sixties.
Booth Powell waved from the end of the hall—his lanky physique silhouetted by the dim fluorescent lighting overhead.
With a rare smile, he sauntered to the doors, unlocked them, and welcomed Jake in.
“I hear it’s official,” Booth said.
“What’s that?’ Jake asked, stepping inside. The long tile hall still held the chill of night and death.
“Deputy Cavanagh.” Booth turned, heading back for the exam room.
Jake halted at the name. Until recently, it had been more than four years since he’d gone by Cavanagh. After Becca’s and his baby’s deaths, after Joel Markum’s death and his wife’s imprisonment, after leaving his job and Boston behind, he’d left his surname behind, too, going instead by his middle name—his mother’s maiden name. He’d hoped to leave as much of his old self as possible dead and buried in Boston, just as Becca and their baby were.
And now he was Jake Cavanagh again. The McKennas, and all of Yancey by now, knew the truth of his fractured past.
Reinin
g in his thoughts, he followed Booth into the exam room. Conrad Humphries lay on the cold steel table, covered with a sheet from the neck down.
“Come on back to my office. I heard the fax machine start up when you knocked.”
“Think the results are in?”
“Here’s hoping.” Booth moved for the printer tray.
Fresh coffee dripped into the pot of a coffee maker on the counter.
“Mind if I grab a cup?”
“Help yourself.” Booth took a seat behind his desk, his eyes scanning the information.
“Thanks.” Jake grabbed a Styrofoam cup and pulled the pot out. “So is that it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And?”
“And looks like you’ve got your first murder case as deputy.”
Jake shut his eyes as he poured the coffee—the cup warming in his hand—and opened them just before the liquid spilled over. As much as his instincts clamored to be part of an investigation again—fully part of one—he couldn’t help but fear the past would repeat itself. He wasn’t meant to be a cop, no matter how deeply he longed for it. It wasn’t safe—not for those he loved.
But he was helping those he loved this time, wasn’t he? Landon was short staffed. Kayden needed someone with her when Landon inevitably sent her to question people at the gym where Conrad purchased his chalk. Time alone with Kayden. It was like a dream come true. Who would have thought it would have come through a murder case?
“You with me, Jake?” Booth asked.
“Yeah.” Jake returned the coffeepot to its warmer. “You going to call Landon?”
“Figured you could let him know, since you’re the deputy in charge.”
He nodded. It was strange how easily Booth and the McKennas accepted his past, accepted the job he’d done for so long.
“I know someone else you’d better tell.”
Kayden. She’d been right. It didn’t surprise him, though. She knew climbing, and everything related to it.
“Speaking of the lady.” Booth nodded toward the glass front doors and grinned over the edge of the paper. He, more than anybody, seemed to enjoy the idea of pairing Jake and Kayden.
“Morning, boys,” she said, sauntering in. She leaned against the doorjamb. “Any news?”
“Booth was just getting ready to explain,” Jake said, giving the ME the floor.
“Conrad Humphries’ chalk—” Booth began.
“Is there a sample left?” she cut in. “Can I take a look?”
Booth smiled. “Absolutely.”
“Don’t you want to know what the report says first?” Jake asked.
“Actually, I’d like to see if I can feel anything that’s off before you tell me,” she said, looking back to Booth.
He nodded. “As the lady wishes.” He led her back into the examination room and lifted a small evidence bag of chalk off the table. “I kept a sample for you.”
“Thanks.” She washed and dried her hands thoroughly and then dumped a portion of the chalk into her palm, rubbing it between her fingers. “Interesting.”
Jake leaned against the counter. “What?”
“It feels normal. Typical texture. Basically the same consistency.”
“Basically?” Jake asked, enjoying watching her work.
“It has a slightly different consistency than the chalk I use, but it could just be the brand.” She lifted her hand to her nose. “Smells the same. . . . Huh.” She turned to Booth, frowning, clearly disappointed. “I give up. What did the report say?”
“There was a small amount of Dodecanol mixed in with the chalk.”
“Dodecanol?”
“It’s a dry moisturizer used in homemade soaps.”
“Moisturizer?” Kayden said.
Booth nodded.
“So what’s moisturizer doing in Conrad’s climbing chalk?” Jake asked.
“Can’t tell you that, but he would have had no reason to put it there himself. And at this concentration, the Dodecanol would have totally negated the chalk’s effects, making Conrad’s hands slipperier than a seal in water.”
“Which would explain why he was going through his chalk so fast.” Kayden brushed off her hands.
Jake shook his head. “So why didn’t the fool stop climbing?”
“By the time it really became a problem, he was probably too far up and didn’t understand the issue. He kept putting on more chalk, thinking that would help the problem, and all the while . . .”
“He was making it worse,” Jake said.
She nodded, then looked at Booth. “So someone definitely compromised Conrad’s chalk?”
“Yes.”
“So we’re looking at murder?”
“Most definitely.”
“We need to go see Landon,” Kayden said.
Jake lifted his chin. “You head over. I’ll be right behind you.”
She nodded, took a moment to wash her hands, and then left.
“So you two are paired up on this one?” Booth said, doing a poor job of smothering a smile.
“She’s the climbing expert,” Jake responded, just grateful to get some one-on-one time with her.
“That she is,” Booth said, no longer bothering to hide his grin. “You two have fun, and try not to kill each other.” He winked.
Jake turned, leaving the morgue and Booth’s wide grin behind, wondering just how painfully obvious his feelings for Kayden were.
6
Kayden and Jake sat silent while Landon read the report Booth had sent over with Jake. Well, Kayden sat; Jake stood. He always felt better standing. A by-product no doubt of his profession—always ready to move if a call came in or danger threatened.
Landon finished the report and set it to the side. “Kayden, you were right. We’re dealing with murder.”
“I wish I was wrong. Hard to believe someone in the climbing community would do something like this.”
“How do you know it was someone in the climbing community?”
“Only someone with climbing expertise would know how Dodecanol’s interaction with chalk would affect a climb.”
“So either a climber or someone with a climber to help them out?” Landon said.
Jake nodded.
“Kayden, are you available to head over to Spruce Harbor with Jake today? We could really use your expertise on this one, not to mention your ties to the climbing community.”
Jake moved instinctively closer to her. Killing a fellow climber was cold, unforgivable, but Imnek Island’s climbers wouldn’t appreciate her coming after one of their own. He wanted her to know he’d be there to run interference.
“No problem,” she said. “I’ll do everything I can to see whoever did this behind bars.”
“Start with the widow,” Landon said, “and then move on to the climbing gym. See if that’s where Conrad purchased his chalk.”
Jake followed Kayden back to the home she shared with her sister, Piper. It’d been their family home, and after their mother died, the siblings stayed. Gradually the brothers moved out, and now the girls shared it, but soon it would just be Kayden’s. Piper would be moving in with Landon after their August wedding.
Hard to believe all the changes that had occurred in the last year—Cole and Bailey getting engaged and in a couple days married, Piper and Landon soon to follow, Gage meeting Darcy and the two now dating. It left only Kayden and Reef single. That number would drop in half if he had any say about it, but sadly he didn’t. Kayden might be intrigued by him, but she clearly didn’t love him.
Rori, the girls’ husky, bounded down the porch steps the minute Kayden stepped from her vehicle.
“Hey, girl.” Kayden bent, patting her up.
“I think she’s ready for another plane ride,” Jake said, laughing at Rori’s exuberance.
“Maybe next time, when we don’t have suspects to question.”
Piper stepped from the door, a picnic basket in hand. “Hey, Jake.”
“Hey, kid.” As the youngest McKenna,
all her siblings referred to her as kid, and during his time in Yancey, he’d taken on the habit. The fact that she was going to be Landon’s wife in less than two months signaled yet another change needed to be made. She was clearly no longer a kid.
“Landon said you’re heading over to Spruce Harbor.”
“Yeah. We need to speak with Conrad Humphries’ widow and the climbing-gym owner,” Jake said.
A look passed between Piper and Kayden, but neither said a word. Curious.
“I figured you could use some munchies.” She handed the basket to Jake.
“Thanks. That was thoughtful of you.” And so very Piper—always looking out for others. Kayden did, too, just in a very different way.
“See you two later.”
“See ya.” Kayden pulled her hair back into a lopsided bun and looked at Jake. “Ready?”
He nodded and followed her down to the Cessna floatplane. She wore her typical T-shirt, casual cotton capris, and tennis shoes. He couldn’t wait to see her in a dress for the wedding. It would be a first. She’d apparently worn them on dates, but he’d always been careful never to be present when she was going on one—it was simply too painful.
They climbed on board, set the picnic basket on one of the backseats, and strapped in side by side. Jake loved watching Kayden fly. Flying and climbing were the only times he got to see the unreserved her—in her element and full of joy. It was addictive. If only being in his presence had the same effect.
Reef approached the house as the Cessna lifted off the water around back. He clasped Anna’s hand. “Guess you’ll have to meet my older sister later.”
Anna’s eyes darted up to the floatplane. He couldn’t wait to introduce her to all his siblings. Couldn’t wait to see their happiness that he’d finally brought home a good girl—a stellar one. She was a pastor’s daughter, sweet, thoughtful . . . and most importantly, serious about her faith. He’d met her his first day at Calvary Chapel. She’d greeted him with a warm, welcoming smile when he hadn’t believed he belonged, hadn’t believed he’d ever belong.
Last winter had been a stark wake-up call, and while he would have been glad to avoid the death of a friend and all it led to, perhaps it had been the kick in the pants he needed to make some serious life changes.