“He must’ve been the one moaning out here. Maybe he lost consciousness and then came to when we passed him. He reached out to me as a last-ditch effort.” She bent her leg at the knee and rubbed her ankle.
“Let’s go.” He tugged on her hand to get her away from the dead guy in the bushes. “From the looks of the blood pumping out of his chest, he was fast on his way out and wouldn’t have survived even if we had discovered him when he was moaning.”
As they burst onto the access road, he aimed his light at the ground and hurried across the gravel and dirt, practically dragging Scarlett behind him as she kept trying her phone.
He didn’t want to run into whatever...or whoever that man had encountered.
When they reached Scarlett’s mailbox on the road, she nudged his arm. “Got it.”
“Let me report it.” He took the phone from her and spoke to the emergency operator, giving her what he could. When he finished the call, he dropped the phone back into Scarlett’s palm.
She asked, “Did you see his face? Do you know him?”
“I didn’t get a good look at his face, but I doubt I know him. It’s been a while since I’ve been back to Timberline.” He held out his hand in front of him and lit it up with the beam from his flashlight. “I got his blood on my hand, though.”
“Ugh. Do you want me to get a towel while we wait for the cops? I have paper towels in my car.”
“I’ll leave it until the sheriff’s department can have a look at it.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “What happened back there? Why’d you stop following me?”
“I—” Her eyes darted to his pocket where he’d stashed his weapon. “I didn’t want to go any deeper in the forest.”
Especially in the company of a man with a gun—a man she’d just met even though they’d been high school classmates years ago. Smart girl.
“And then the guy just grabbed your ankle? Hard?”
“Not that hard but enough to surprise me and trip me up.”
“When did you realize he was hurt?”
“I kicked out when I fell, to loosen his hold. I’d already had my cell phone out for the light. When I was on the ground, the little beam of light illuminated his hand, and I could see that it was limp. His arm wasn’t moving, but I screamed again just in case.”
“I heard you, loud and clear—both times. You didn’t see his face?”
“I wanted to run the hell out of there, but I couldn’t move. My muscles froze. I certainly didn’t want to look at him. Did you see his face?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Maybe you know him. Maybe he was a friend on his way to visit you.”
“Me?” Her dark brows shot up. “I don’t think so. The only people who come out here to visit me are my cousins, Jason and Annie. And that wasn’t Jason’s hand.”
“We’ll find out who he is soon enough.” He held up one finger. “Sirens.”
The revolving lights on top of the emergency vehicles cast an eerie glow in the misty air as they flew down the small road to Scarlett’s cabin.
Jim waved the flashlight in the air to flag them down.
The vehicles—one ambulance, one fire truck and a squad car—squealed to a stop in front of Scarlett’s mailbox.
Jogging next to the squad car, Jim knocked on the passenger window, and the deputy buzzed it down. “You can go up the access road. The body’s in the woods, just off the trail.”
The deputy gestured out his window for the ambulance to make the turn onto the access road, and then he followed it.
Jim and Scarlett caught up just as the officer was getting out of his cruiser. “What’s going on, Scarlett? More shots fired out here? More bear traps?”
Jim shifted his gaze to Scarlett’s face. She hadn’t told him about any shots being fired out here or any bear traps. That’s all he needed for his other leg—a bear trap.
“Cody, you remember Jim Kennedy, don’t you?” She swept her arm in his direction.
With his left hand, Jim shook Cody Unger’s hand. Must be Deputy Cody Unger now. He’d been the high school quarterback and an all-around good guy. Jim hadn’t known him well—different circles.
“Kennedy.” Unger nodded. “Did you find him?”
“Scarlett did.” Jim held up his right palm. “But I checked him out. He has a wound to the chest and lost a lot of blood. This way.”
As Jim led the way with his flashlight, Scarlett asked Unger, “Where’s Sheriff Musgrove?”
“I called him. He’s not feeling well, told me to handle it.”
Jim stopped and pointed to the arm flung out on the trail. “That’s him. The rest of his body is beneath those bushes. I don’t know how he got there, but both Scarlett and I heard a scream or a cry earlier. Must’ve been him.”
“I have a couple of other deputies en route. They can canvass this area.” Unger squatted down next to the body and pushed the bushes away from it while shining his flashlight on the man’s face. “Doesn’t look familiar. Let’s get out of the way and let the EMTs do their thing.”
The EMTs squeezed past them as Jim and Scarlett followed Unger back to the access road.
“Do you mind if we talk inside your cabin, Scarlett?”
“I was hoping you’d ask.” She sniffled. “It’s cold out here.”
They ran into the other two deputies in front of Scarlett’s cabin and Unger instructed them to look for evidence in the area and to check for the man’s ID.
Once inside the cabin, Unger pulled a kit out of the black bag slung across his body. “I’m going to scrape some of that blood from your hand and get it on a slide. Then you can wash it off.”
Jim held out his hand, palm up, and Unger ran a stick over his skin to collect a sampling of the blood. He transferred it to a slide, sealed another slide on top of the first one and dropped it into a plastic bag. “You can clean up now. Thanks for preserving the evidence.”
Scarlett tapped his arm. “Bathroom’s the first door on your right.”
The art gallery spilled over to the bathroom with a border of flowers and cupids painted on the wallpaper and a mirror that looked fit for a wood sprite, with carved leaves and flowers curling around its edges.
Jim soaped up his hand and removed the blood. He didn’t want to mess up any of Scarlett’s artfully placed towels with residual blood, so he plucked a couple of tissues from the box and wiped off his hands just in case. He dropped them in the toilet and flushed.
He hunched forward, studying his reflection in the mirror, and grimaced. How the hell had he gotten mixed up with a dead body his first week back in Timberline? Not exactly the way to keep a low profile.
When he returned to the front room, he interrupted Scarlett reenacting the moment when the man grabbed her ankle.
“So, I kicked out, fell on the ground and screamed, just not sure of the order of those actions.”
Unger turned to him, his notebook in hand. “That’s when you returned? When you heard Scarlett scream?”
“I ran back, she pointed out the body and I felt his pulse and his chest.” He wiped his damp hand on his jeans. “That’s how I got his blood on me. I felt for a pulse first and listened for his breath, too. He was dead.”
“You ever had any CPR training, Kennedy?” Unger tapped his pencil against his pad.
“Six years as an army ranger sniper. I know the signs of a dead body when I see ’em, and I know when it’s too late to render aid.”
As he held Unger’s gaze, he heard Scarlett’s sharp intake of breath.
A slow smile spread across Unger’s face. “I guess you know what you’re doing. Did either of you recognize him?”
“I didn’t get a good look at his face and Scarlett didn’t see his face at all. He had a beard. I felt that when I listened for his breath.”
“Older guy, beard, long, reddish hair. I haven’t seen him around, but the conditions out in the woods are not optimal for identifying a body.” He shoved his notebook in his pocket. “I got your stories. If I have any other questions, I’ll let you know. It could just be an accident. I don’t know yet what caused his wound, but if it turns out to be homicide, we’ll call in the boys from county and they might have additional questions for you.”
Jim followed Unger to the front door and stepped out onto the porch with him. Scarlett tagged along, slinging her jacket over her shoulders. Did she plan to go out again?
Unger pointed to the trees crowding close to Scarlett’s cabin. “You should get those removed, Scarlett. Most cabins out here have some sort of clearing around them. I don’t know why the Butlers never did it when they had the place.”
“It’s one of the features that drew me to the cabin—the privacy. I need it for my work.”
Jim crossed his arms. “Don’t artists need natural light?”
“Not for the kind of work I do.”
He knew nothing about art or artists, except the kind that did tattoos, so he’d keep his mouth shut.
Scarlett gasped and grabbed his arm. “They’re bringing him out.”
Peering through the trees that ringed Scarlett’s property, Jim could make out the EMTs wheeling a gurney from the woods onto the access road.
They all made their way down the path, through the trees, and stopped short of the gurney at the mouth of the ambulance doors. The EMTs had yanked the white sheet over the dead man’s face.
One of the guys turned to Unger. “Looks like he succumbed to a stab wound to the chest—multiple stab wounds.”
Scarlett swayed beside him, and Jim put a steadying arm around her shoulders. “Did it happen here, on Scarlett’s property?”
The EMT shrugged. “I can’t tell. That’s for those deputies thrashing around out there to figure out.”
Unger whistled. “I’ll call Sheriff Musgrove right away. We’re going to need county out here now.”
“Should we wait for the county coroner?”
“Take him to the morgue at the hospital. The county coroner can work there.”
Unger turned to go back into the woods and Jim held up his hand to stop him. “Is Scarlett safe here? The guy could’ve been murdered twenty-five yards from her front door.”
Scarlett’s body stiffened beside him and he drew her closer.
“I’m calling the county sheriff’s department right now. They’ll probably be here the rest of the night. I don’t think Scarlett has anything to worry about.” Unger charged off toward the crime scene.
As the EMTs adjusted the straps on the body, Scarlett said, “Wait. C-can we see his face? I just want to make sure it’s not anyone I know, although if Cody didn’t recognize him I doubt I will.”
“Sure.” The EMT whipped back the sheet from the man’s face.
Jim clenched his jaw as sour bile rose from his gut. Scarlett and Unger might not know the murdered man, but Jim did.
And if the man hadn’t already been dead, he might’ve killed him himself.
Chapter Three
Scarlett swallowed as she studied the dead man’s face, half obscured by his bushy beard and mustache, some sort of tattoo creeping up his neck with an L and a C intertwined. She’d never been a portraitist, but if she had been she’d want this guy’s likeness on canvas. Even in death, he wore his life story on his face, etched in every line and wrinkle.
She blew out a breath. “I don’t know him. Jim?”
“Never saw him before in my life.”
The EMT tugged the sheet back over the man’s face and loaded him into the ambulance.
Unger returned with his deputies. “The county sheriff’s department should be out here shortly, Scarlett. They don’t need to disturb you tonight, but the lead detective will probably want to talk to both of you tomorrow. Going anywhere, Kennedy?”
“I’m staying at my...my place.”
Scarlett glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. The Kennedy cabin had been the closest residence to hers, but nobody had lived there since she’d bought the Butler place. Apparently, Jim Kennedy, the town enigma, had been off to war with the army rangers all these years.
When the EMT had lifted the covers on the dead man, Jim had moved away from her. She hadn’t minded his arm draped over her shoulders or the solid presence of his muscular frame, although she’d never been one to lean on a man. Her own father had died in a car accident along with her mother, and her uncle had been a black sheep, ostracized from the reservation.
She scooped her hair back from her face. “I’m going to call it a night. Tell those county deputies they can talk to me anytime they want, but mornings are best, before I get to work.”
Unger smacked the side of the ambulance as its engine started. “I’m going to back out and let these guys out of here, but I’m sticking around to wait for the county guys.”
“Okay if I leave, Unger?” Jim shoved his hands into his pockets where he must’ve still had his weapon stashed.
If the man had been shot instead of stabbed, would Jim have told Unger about his gun? If he had a gun, maybe he had a knife.
Scarlett closed her eyes and dragged in a deep breath. Nothing about Jim screamed cold-blooded killer, but she couldn’t shake the coincidence of his appearance followed by the discovery of a dead body on her property.
“You can leave. Again, just be available in case anyone wants to ask you any more questions.”
Scarlett pivoted on the gravel. “Hope you can figure out what happened to that poor man.”
Jim drew up beside her with his flashlight. “I’ll walk you back to your place, if that’s okay.”
“If you want, but I think I’ll be fine with half the Timberline Sheriff’s Department on my property and the county sheriffs showing up in a few.”
“I can take a look around and check your doors and windows—for when all those deputies leave.”
A little chill zapped the back of her neck, and she hunched her shoulders. “That’s a creepy thought.”
“Not my intention to scare you, but sometimes a little fear is a good thing.”
They returned to her cabin and Jim flicked the broken dead bolt. “You can start here by getting this replaced, and you might want a peephole in the door so you don’t have to look out that window.”
“Funny enough, I noticed those deficiencies myself when you banged on my door.”
“Why don’t you give me a tour?”
She spread her arms. “This is the great room, perfect for entertaining three guests at one time.”
His lips twisted as he checked the front window. Then he moved to the other two. “At least they all have working locks.”
“At least?”
“Anyone can smash a window.”
“Thanks for that.”
“But then you’d wake up and the intruder would lose his advantage, and you could always come at him with this.” He strolled to the fireplace and replaced the poker she’d snatched for her defense when he’d first come to her place. “Do you have a gun?”
“A gun? I hate guns.”
He pulled his own gun from his pocket and caressed the handle. “You hate guns because you’re afraid of them. If you learned how to take care of a gun and all the safety measures associated with gun ownership, you might feel differently.”
Shaking her head, she gritted her teeth. “I doubt it. Almost everyone around here has at least a shotgun and spends a lot of their time hunting defenseless animals.”
“I agree. You don’t have anything to fear from a wild animal.” He returned his gun to his pocke
t. “I spent my time in the army hunting a different kind of animal—definitely not defenseless.”
“You used to hunt, though, didn’t you?” She snapped her fingers. “That’s why you became a sniper. You were a great shot.”
“Something like that.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “Do you have a back door?”
“Two of them—a side door off the kitchen and then a back door from the addition. That’s another thing I liked about this cabin. The Butlers had added a room to the back of the house, which made a perfect studio.”
He checked the kitchen door and tapped the wood. “You need a dead bolt on this door, too.”
“I’ll get someone out to do both doors, same key.”
He stood in the middle of her kitchen, dwarfing it. He’d even been buff as a teenager. Instead of playing team sports for the high school, Jim had spent his time working out and lifting weights.
From the way his shoulders filled out his jacket, he hadn’t given up the weights.
“You know what you need in this kitchen?”
“Besides a twenty-four-hour chef?”
“A landline telephone. You can’t keep running to the end of the road in an emergency.”
She hunched over the kitchen counter, planting her elbows on the tile. “I came back here, bought this cabin to get away from it all, to work, not to get all plugged in.”
“After what just happened out there—” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder “—you need to think about your safety.”
She widened her eyes. “Why? Do you think there’s a serial killer on the loose or something? I’m not happy that someone died outside my cabin, but I don’t think it has anything to do with me. From the looks of the guy, it could’ve been a bar fight or drug related.”
Jim straightened up so fast from where he’d been bent over looking for a phone jack, he almost hit his head on the bottom of the cabinet.
“Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know. He looked a little rough around the edges, could’ve been using.”
“The point is, we don’t know his story.” He limped from the kitchen and tipped his chin toward the short hallway. “Okay if I take a look in the other rooms?”
Army Ranger Redemption Page 2