by Dani Pettrey
A fresh layer of dew graced the grass, dampening the earth, blanketing the . . . She stared at the markings trailing across the lawn and stopping beneath her bedroom window. Boot prints.
She stood and followed them across the yard into the trees and back out to the road. Somebody had been watching her. Had the killer called her from outside her home?
Fear coursed anew through her.
16
Kayden took a deep, steadying breath before taking her first step down the aisle.
Pastor Braden waited at the end underneath the wooden arch her brothers built and Piper had draped with a beautiful white linen swag that swayed in the ocean breeze. To Pastor Braden’s left stood Cole, then Gage, then Landon, and finally Jake. All four so dapper in their crisp white dress shirts, sleeves rolled to the elbows, shirts untucked, hanging over new khaki pants rolled up to their ankles with bare feet in the sand. It was the perfect shabby-chic beach wedding.
Instead of matching rows of white chairs, they’d raided their homes for their dad’s handcrafted chairs, along with more from Bailey’s antique shop—the Russian-Alaskan Trading Post. What they had gathered provided an eclectic yet beautiful collection of handcrafted pieces and historical treasures. The end chair in each row was decorated with an abundant bouquet of wild flowers tied with bright turquoise ribbon—the colors bursting in a vivid path lining the walk that would forever change Cole and Bailey’s life. In less than a half hour Bailey Craig would become Bailey McKenna.
Kayden couldn’t imagine what it would be like to become one with a man, but that’s how the Bible described the union, and that’s how her parents lived out their marriage. Unfortunately, seeing the incredible agony her mom had suffered at the loss of her husband, at the loss of her other half . . .
Kayden’s hand tightened on her bouquet.
She refused to ever set herself up to experience such pain. She continued walking down the grassy aisle to where it met the sand.
The sun was warm, the air a gentle sixty-three degrees. Cole smiled as she approached. He looked so handsome and happy. She tried to keep the creepy morning wake-up call and footprints out of her head, but the eerie voice lingered.
Jake flashed a worried look her way. How could he always tell when she was upset? She smiled, trying to throw him off, but something in his expression said he wasn’t buying it. She looked away, focusing on Landon instead as his stare fastened on something behind her. On someone, rather—Piper. Abundant love and happiness swelled in his eyes.
Who would have thought her little sister would find love so early in her life? It wasn’t really surprising, though. Piper was warm, open, caring, giving—such a stark contrast to herself.
And Landon . . .
A smile tugged at her lips. Despite her aversion to their incessant PDAs, they were perfect for one another, and it warmed her heart to know her sister would be loved, cherished, and well taken care of.
Piper took her place beside Kayden as the matron of honor—Bailey’s best friend from Oregon, Carrie Matthews—followed down the aisle.
The music shifted, signaling Bailey’s arrival. Cole straightened, his entire countenance beaming. She was overjoyed for her big brother, and for sweet Bailey. She watched as her future sister-in-law walked down the aisle on Gus’s arm. Her gown was long and flowing—white satin that gently hugged her curves with a simple V neckline and an understated elegance. Her hair was in a soft, loose updo with a white calla lily tucked behind her ear.
Kayden glanced at her brother, at the love shining in his eyes for his bride-to-be. She ached for that, for someone to look at her with such overwhelming love—but it could never be.
Cole’s heart seized at the sight of his bride. His bride. Bailey Craig. The woman he’d loved since he was a teen was about to become his bride.
He glanced up at the heavens—Thank you, Father—then back at Bailey. Blond tendrils spilled out of her side bun and down across her creamy shoulders. He was sure her gown was lovely, but he couldn’t pull his eyes from hers—blue and overflowing with love for him. For me. He was so very blessed.
Gus, family friend and Bailey’s adoptive uncle, handed her off, and together they turned, hand in hand, to face Pastor Braden. This was it. He’d found his happily ever after, and she was standing right beside him.
Pastor Braden began with a prayer and then a passage of Scripture—Ephesians 5:25. “‘Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.’”
He would. He would strive every second of his life to love Bailey as Christ loved the church.
But I can only do it through your strength, Father. Equip me to love her as you created me to. May our lives and our marriage glorify you always.
The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur, so much emotion welling inside him, in the words of love he spoke, in the words of love she spoke to him. Her hands were trembling as he slid the ring on her finger, but the joy in her eyes said it was all out of love. She placed the band on his finger and Pastor Braden said, “You may now kiss your bride.”
My bride. The greatest joy he’d ever known, next to accepting Christ as his Savior, swept over him as he pulled Bailey into his arms and kissed his wife for the very first time.
“Mrs. McKenna,” he whispered against her petal-soft lips.
She smiled, making his insides Jell-O. “I like the sound of that.”
He grinned. “How about this?” He moved his mouth to her ear and whispered words of love only a wife should ever hear, and joy filled him as her smile widened, brushing her cheek close to his. A giggle escaped her lips.
Round tables with white linen tablecloths dotted the grounds, candles glowing in glass pillars at the center of each. Well over a hundred guests were in attendance, everyone smiling and enjoying the festivities.
Jake watched from the periphery as usual. The McKennas’ property had been transformed once again—this time into an oasis beneath the stars.
Growing up with his well-to-do parents, he’d been to his fair share of elegant dinners and dances, but all that paled in comparison to the beauty before him and the rhythmic sound of waves tossing behind him.
Cole had doted on Bailey throughout dinner, and his bride shined. Memories of his wedding day flooded Jake’s mind, and he wished he’d been more mature, more loving, more enraptured. He and Becca, while they loved each other, had been so young, and having recently become the youngest homicide detective in Boston history, he’d been far too cocky. He hadn’t known the first thing about being a good husband, but he’d tried his best, until the co-ed case fell in his lap and he’d become obsessed. He’d let Becca take a backseat to his career, and in the end she’d died because of it—because of him. How he regretted his arrogance, regretted a great many things.
And now he regretted not admitting to Kayden how he truly felt about her—about the depth of love coursing through every fiber of his being for her. The arrogance had been knocked out of him long ago. He was far more mature now, and when it came to Kayden . . . enraptured didn’t even come close. But because he loved her so much, he remained silent. She wasn’t interested in him like that. Despite the gentle looks he caught now and again, she never indicated anything more. It was better than her previous animosity and distrust, but it wasn’t love.
“The bride and groom will share their first dance as man and wife,” the bandleader announced.
Cole and Bailey stepped onto the dance floor they’d set up on the sand—taking great pains to level it out perfectly and place it high enough on the beach that the shifting tide wouldn’t touch it. Old-fashioned glass bulbs fanned out in strings over the dance floor, and white Chinese lanterns dotted the perimeter. “Greatest Story Ever Told,” by Oliver James, played as the two danced.
Jake’s gaze shifted to Kayden, watching from across the dance floor, the light of the lanterns shimmering off her golden skin and radiant complexion. The turquoise bridesmaid dress suited her perfectly, her long brown hair nearly cove
ring the open back.
The song concluded, but Cole and Bailey remained wrapped in each other’s arms.
“The bride and groom request the bridal party join them on the dance floor.”
Kayden’s gaze locked on his.
He smiled to squelch his nerves, but they only jangled harder. This was it. His excuse to dance with Kayden. Surely she wouldn’t refuse. She kept her focus on him as he made his way around the dance floor to her side. Piper and Landon were already dancing, and Gage was taking Carrie Matthews’ hand.
Kayden’s hand. He’d finally be able to hold her hand, to touch her skin, to feel her near him—if only for the length of the song. And it was a great one. “You and Me,” by Lifehouse.
His heart hammered in his throat as he stepped toward her, closing the distance between them.
She looked . . . nervous. Was she that uncomfortable about dancing with him?
“Hi,” he said, reaching her side. Hi? Wow. He was the master of vocabulary tonight.
She brushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Hi.”
“May I have this dance?” He held out his hand, praying he wasn’t shaking as badly as he felt he was.
Without a word, she placed her hand in his—lithe fingers, velvety skin. She felt more delicate than he’d imagined. Not what he’d expected from a climber’s hands.
He led her onto the dance floor, wishing he could lead her all the days of his life, but he’d settle for this perfect moment in time.
He cradled his hand along the supple curve of her back, just below the tip of her lush hair, the silky strands tickling the top edge of his fingers.
He placed her free hand on his shoulder, and they began to move in step with the melody, in step with each other.
The lights overhead reminded him of fireflies in the night during his summers spent with his grandparents down along the western shore of Maryland. His parents had shipped him out to his mom’s parents while they took cruises, visited spas, and toured Europe.
Many children would have been hurt by being left behind, but he’d loved every minute of it. His grandpa had taught him how to fish, to track, and to camp. His grandmother had taught him about comfort, laughter, and joy—all of which were sorely missing from his proper parents’ lives. Best of all, his grandmother had taught him to dance.
It started one night after he was supposed to be in bed. He heard music—the throaty crooning of Patsy Cline—and had snuck down to catch his grandparents dancing on the front porch beneath the full summer moon.
Grandma’s favorite song had been “Fly Me to the Moon,” because Grandpa had always spun her—just as Jake was spinning Kayden now, her long lush hair flowing. The soft hint of a smile on her lips warmed him, and his head spun faster than his body. How did she do that? Utterly captivate him . . .
She was breathtaking, and he prayed this moment would never end.
She lifted a glass off a passing tray. Quite a party the McKenna clan threw. She’d been hearing as much. Shame they didn’t serve alcohol. She could use a stiff drink, but no matter. She took a sip of the wretched ice tea and moved closer to the dance floor, closer to them—the source of her problem. But not for long.
“Don’t they make a handsome couple?” a man said beside her.
“Yes.” She took another sip as Jake twirled Kayden around. Too bad they wouldn’t live long enough to pursue a relationship. Such a pity.
17
The next morning, the whole family and a few friends gathered on the dock to see Cole and Bailey off for their honeymoon. Kayden would fly them to Anchorage before heading over to Imnek with Jake to continue their investigation.
Piper had decorated the inside of the plane with balloons and streamers as a fun send-off, but Kayden would be taking them down as soon as she dropped Cole and Bailey off at Anchorage International. She wasn’t flying around all day with pink and purple fluff.
“I know you two will have an amazing time,” Piper said, hugging Bailey. “I can’t believe you’re going to Australia. Take lots of pictures of koalas for me.” If anything came in second to Piper’s love of moose, it was koalas.
“I will,” Bailey promised.
“Okay, Piper, let them go,” Kayden said. “They’ll only be gone two weeks.”
Piper made her annoyed face. “I know. I’m just so excited for them.”
And she was going to miss them. Kayden could read it on her sister’s face. It was sweet how much she loved them all and enjoyed being with them, but it was only for a couple of weeks.
She turned to Cole. “We better get going if we’re going to make your flight.”
He nodded and scooped Bailey up in his arms. “Time to go, Mrs. McKenna.”
Bailey laughed. “I think you can stop carrying me over thresholds now.”
“Nope. You get the special treatment for at least another day, maybe another week.” He pressed a long kiss to her lips.
“Okay, lovebirds.” Kayden tried scooting them along while keeping her gaze off Jake. What was wrong with her? Every time she saw one of her siblings express affection with their partner, her mind went directly to Jake—wondering what his lips would feel like, longing to be back in his strong arms, to feel his hand splayed on her lower back while they danced.
Stop it! You will not swoon over Jake. Over anyone, for that matter.
But that was just it. She’d had boyfriends growing up, but she’d never swooned over anyone. Not until now. Not until Jake.
Kayden lifted off from Anchorage International Airport. They’d seen Cole and Bailey off to their connecting flight for Sydney, and after refueling and grabbing a bite of breakfast, she and Jake were on their way to Imnek. An entire day of just her and Jake together, with all the raw emotions of last night’s dance still welling inside. Great.
“Some wedding,” she said, feeling the need to fill the silence.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “I especially liked the dancing.”
Her mouth went dry, and she blindly scanned the instruments, even though the plane practically flew itself, struggling to think of something lighthearted to say. “Yeah. Gage puts on quite the show. I particularly enjoyed his ‘Thriller’ rendition.”
Jake laughed. “That was hysterical.”
Gage always was the life of the party. “And did you notice how he raced to Darcy’s side after his obligatory dance with the matron of honor was over?” It was so sweet.
“Obligatory?”
“Yeah, you know, the obligatory wedding dance.”
“Right. Obligatory.” He shifted back in his seat. “I got it.”
What was he . . . ? Oh. Real smooth, Kayden. She’d just made it sound as if she’d only danced with him out of obligation. In a way it was true. She never would have gone up and asked Jake to dance on her own, but what she’d felt during the dance was far from obligation. Her heart was still racing. When he’d cradled her back in the palm of his hand . . .
Gooseflesh rippled up her arm.
“You cold?” he asked, always too perceptive.
“No. I’m fine.”
“I’ve got a jacket.”
“No. Really. I’m not cold.”
He studied her a moment, no doubt taking in the flush on her cheeks.
A slight smile curled on his lips, and she knew she’d been had. Fortunately he was a gentleman and didn’t call her out, but the smirk dancing across his lips was painful enough.
She still hadn’t told him about the creepy phone call or the footprints outside her window, and she almost wanted to let it just slide, knowing it would only distract him from the investigative plans he had for the day, but he’d want to know.
“Jake.”
He looked over, his green eyes dazzling in the sun streaming through the Cessna’s front window. “Yeah?”
“I need to tell you something.”
He shifted toward her. “Okay.”
“I would have said something sooner, but I didn’t want to distract from Cole and Bailey’s day.”
“I knew it.”
“What?”
“I could just tell something was bothering you.” He rested his hand on the back of her seat. “What happened?”
She explained the phone call and footprints, then tried to read his stoic expression.
Jake clamped his hand on the headrest, his knuckles bulging. “Brody’s just going to keep pushing until he ends up behind bars.”
“That’s just it.” She swept her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t think it was Brody.”
“What? Why not? Because we didn’t catch him leaving the note on our windshield?”
“You still think he left the note?”
Jake looked down.
“You don’t—the pieces don’t fit—so why is it so hard to believe the creepy call was someone else too?”
Jake looked at her, concern filling his face. “Because Brody’s easy. Containable.”
“And whoever called me?”
Jake swallowed. “Why do you think it was someone else?”
“Because it felt different.”
“Like the spray-painted message?”
“Yeah. The banged-up propeller rang true for a bunch of guys buffed up on alcohol and testosterone—stupid, but not dangerous—but the messages, they felt darker.”
Jake sighed, releasing his grip on the seat and folding his hands in his lap. “I agree.”
“Then who do you think is sending them?”
“Conrad’s killer.”
“Meaning . . . Viv and Stuart?”
“They’re a strong possibility.”
“But . . . ?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I’m loath to trust my instinct after—”
“Rebecca.” She reached out, touching his arm.
He closed his eyes, resting his hand over hers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He nodded, letting the moment pass silently.
18
Jake wasn’t sure if he was thankful for the interruption of his ringing phone or not. The moment he and Kayden had been sharing was one of the most profound of his life. She’d reached out to him in more ways than one, and his heart hadn’t stopped hammering since.