“Nah.” He checked his watch. “It’s early, though, only nine o’clock. The boogeymen only come out to play at midnight.”
“You don’t really believe in any of this, do you?”
Finn shook his head. “Not really. Sure, there might be something unusual happening here after dark but I believe in what I can see, what I can touch, what I can hold. Evidence. Hard facts. Murder is a bloody business, Gemma. It’s a flesh-and-blood business. This? What we’re doing tonight? It’s like an episode of The X-Files. I’ll be shocked if it’s anything other than fantasy.”
“Maybe. As you said, it’s early. Finished?” I stood and stretched. A yawn escaped, and I groaned. “Damn. I forgot dessert.”
Finn stood as well. “Never fear. I know you have an insatiable appetite. I got it covered.”
He took the trash to the bear bag and then ducked in his tent. After a few minutes, he emerged with a bag of chocolate chip cookies and a flask.
“And Finn saves the day, once again.”
He gave me the cookies and took a healthy swig from the flask. “Whiskey?”
After a moment, I nodded. He handed me the flask and I took a small sip, then a larger one. The alcohol burned going down, and I felt a warmth in my chest and a flush in my cheeks.
Finn took the flask back and drank again. “Come with me.”
I followed him down to the edge of the lake. We stared out across it, both of us looking to the far side where we’d found the makeshift campsite, but all we could see was the dark swath of forest.
I shivered, both from the cold and from the taste of the whiskey still burning in my throat. Finn noticed and edged closer. He passed me the flask. I took another swallow, then coughed.
He laughed softly. “Not a whiskey drinker?”
“Red wine’s more my style. But the whiskey was a good idea.” I knelt and trailed my fingers in the water. “It’s so cold.”
“It’s so beautiful.”
The wind picked up and I shivered again and stood up. “I’m going back to the fire.”
“I’ll be up in a minute,” Finn said. He continued to stare out across the water. In the moonlight, his face looked soft and serious and I realized, I think for the first time, how good looking he really was. No wonder women constantly threw themselves at his feet.
I ducked in my tent and grabbed a wool cap, then went to the fire. I found a small log on the ground and fashioned a seat for myself. By the time Finn joined me, my feet were propped and I’d made a serious dent in the bag of cookies. The dessert, combined with the heat of the fire and the whiskey, had me feeling comfortable.
“Are there any cookies left?” Finn stood near the fire, rubbing his hands together.
“Here you go,” I said, and tossed him the bag. “I think there’s two or three. Finish them, please.”
He caught the bag. “You look nice and cozy. What are you thinking about?”
“The case. I wish there were some way to know if Mac Stephens really did tell Sari Chesney about the affair.”
“There might be a way,” Finn said. He took a seat beside me and took another long swallow from the flask. We were shoulder to shoulder, and then Finn adjusted the log behind us and we reclined against it, somewhat sheltered from the wind. “We’ve got a witness who likely knows more than he’s telling.”
“Virgil Salt?”
“Not Salt … I’m talking about Jake Stephens. Sound carries up here. If Mac and Sari argued, Jake would have heard. For that matter, Ally would have, too,” Finn said.
“Let me see that flask.” To my surprise, it was half-empty. We’d had more to drink than I’d thought. “So why hasn’t one of them come forward?”
Finn sat up and threw a fresh log on the fire. Flames shot up, sending dozens of sparks into the air. He leaned back. “Loyalty. They could all be in on it together. One of them kills Sari and the other two agree to cover it up out of some sick sense of allegiance. Jake and Mac are blood; Ally is carrying Mac’s baby. Is it so hard to believe that all three have a stake in keeping Sari’s murder quiet?”
“That might be, but did you read my last email? Forensics came back with a match to the fibers on Betty Starbuck’s body. But they didn’t match to Sari Chesney’s shirt. They matched instead to someone who’d been at Lost Lake. We’re looking for one perp. One person killed both Starbuck and Chesney. Mac and Jake have alibis for the night of Starbuck’s murder. And I can’t think of a single reason why Ally would kill Starbuck.”
Next to me, Finn blew out his breath in one long sigh. “That’s that, then. So we look at Larry Bornstein again. Maybe James Curry, too, and Campbell.”
“Let’s start with Ally, though. We heard Mac’s side. I want to hear Ally’s tomorrow.”
Finn pulled the flask out of my hand and took another long swallow. His eyes were bright in the glow of the fire, and I realized I was buzzed. If anything suspicious did happen in the next few hours, neither of us would be in a good state to handle it.
Finn tipped his head back and looked up at the stars. “Let me play devil’s advocate again. It’s what I’m best at. Coincidences happen all the time. That’s the nature of our universe. Is it so hard to believe that Betty stumbled into something at the museum, say another robbery, and was killed while across town—across a mountain, for Pete’s sake—Sari was killed for some other reason?” Finn asked.
“Okay, if we’re playing that game, who’s to say the lake itself wasn’t responsible for Sari’s death? What if Ruby Cellars was right?”
“Come on, Gemma.” Finn groaned. “I know you’ve got some wacky ideas, but this is just a lake. Secluded, private, beautiful. There’s no one for miles. We should be enjoying it, not trying to make it into something it’s not.”
I shrugged, and Finn turned his head to look at me. We were inches apart. He started to respond, then stopped and simply stared. I froze, sure he could see my heart suddenly thudding in my chest.
Slowly, he lifted a hand toward my face.
I couldn’t breathe.
Then he flushed and his gaze moved from my eyes to the side of my head. He pulled his hand away.
“I thought you had an ember on your hat. I didn’t want you to get burned.” Finn coughed and got to his feet. “I’ll be back in a sec. Too much water on the way in.”
“Watch out for bears!” I softly called after him. My heart continued to pound, sending blood coursing throughout my body.
What just happened?
I exhaled and put a cold hand to my cheek. I was warm, flushed from more than the whiskey, more than the heat of the fire. Desperate for a distraction, I picked the flask up and finished off the whiskey.
I wasn’t sure what scared me more: the fact that Finn wanted to kiss me or the fact that I didn’t know if I would have stopped him.
Chapter Forty
We broke camp early.
I’d spent a restless night tossing and turning, listening first to the wind and then to the sound of Finn in his tent softly snoring. As soon as the sun rose, I was up, getting the fire going again and boiling water for coffee. My head pounded from the whiskey. I felt tired, achy.
The water was calm, flat as a pane of glass. In the early morning light, I saw wildflowers just beginning to bloom along the edge of the trail. The whole area seemed to be suffused with a softness that made it difficult to believe this was the site of so many deaths.
“There’s nothing here,” I whispered to myself. Then I went into the woods to pee and saw fresh bear tracks on the trail. I went about my business quickly and when I’d returned to the fire, Finn was there. I didn’t know how he did it, but he looked rested and ready for the day.
I told him what I’d seen.
“I heard him huffing and puffing. Must have been midnight.”
“Was he close?” I handed Finn an orange and a protein bar.
He nodded. “Fifty feet, maybe. He sounded like a big guy. I must have fallen back asleep. The next time I woke up, he was gone.”
A thought occurred to me: Had I read too much into something that wasn’t there? Had I imagined the look in Finn’s eyes, the way his hand seemed as though it was going to fit perfectly against my cheek?
“You okay?” Finn stared at me, his brows furrowed.
“Never better. Let’s get out of here.”
We doused the fire and then left. As we hiked, we discussed the weather, summer vacations, even television shows we were enjoying. We talked about everything except for what had almost happened the night before.
At least things weren’t awkward. If anything, the conversation flowed better than it had in days, and a part of me wondered what that meant.
As we reached our cars, Finn said, “I don’t know if you were hoping to see something at the lake or not, but I’m sure glad it was a quiet night. You had me convinced a werewolf was lurking in the woods.”
I grinned. “I never said anything about werewolves.”
“See you back at the station?”
“Yes. I’m going to get cleaned up and check in on the baby. I’ll see you soon.”
At home, I showered quickly, reluctant to step out of the hot water but wanting to spend an hour or two with Grace. She was excited to see me, and we played on the rug in her room as Clementine went for a run and then took her own shower.
I didn’t know what I would have done without Clementine. With Brody away, she’d been holding things down on the home front and keeping Grace happy with what seemed to be an unlimited supply of energy.
She handed me a small black sack as I was gathering my things.
“What’s this?”
“Lunch. I found the bag in the back of your pantry. There’s a turkey sandwich, apple slices, string cheese, and orange juice,” she said. “I know you like soda, but I thought the juice might do you good.”
She lowered her voice. “I threw in a few aspirin, too. You looked like you could use them.”
Blushing, I thanked her. “I’m going to be spoiled at this rate, Clem.”
“Don’t worry. I’m keeping a running tally of all the extra things I’m doing for you. I’ll invoice you when Brody’s home,” she muttered. She gently lifted Grace’s arm up. “Wave bye to Mommy! Wave bye!”
At my desk, I called Allison Chang and explained that I had a few questions for her. I was deliberately vague, and when she asked if the conversation could be handled over the phone, I said no. “Let’s talk in person, Ally. It’s easier for me to take notes that way.”
“Sure, I understand. I can come by after work? About five?”
“Great. See you then.”
I hung up and then swore as a reminder popped up on my computer calendar that my yearly fitness test was coming due. I’d been slow to reach my pre-pregnancy fitness levels; early morning runs and a lean diet were so much less appealing than extra cuddles with the baby and second servings of ice cream.
But the yearly fitness test was something I had to pass.
Groaning, I pushed back from my desk and headed to the women’s locker room. I kept a small bag of workout clothes, toiletries, and extra sneakers there for exactly this purpose.
I changed and walked to the small gym that was annexed to the back of the police station. A couple of guys were doing timed sprints on the treadmills, so I moved to an exercise bike in the corner and slipped a set of headphones on. I needed serious motivation and only one artist would do: Janet Jackson, circa the early nineties.
I was eleven miles into a preset workout that was heavy on the hills, sweat pouring from my forehead, quads trembling, when Chief Chavez appeared in the corner of my eye. I wondered if he could smell the alcohol that seemed to be seeping out my pores.
“Chief,” I gasped. I pulled out my headphones and hit pause on the bike. “You’re just in time. I think I’m dying.”
I laughed, but he wasn’t smiling in return. He laid a hand on my forearm. “Gemma, there’s been an accident. It’s your grandmother.”
* * *
Julia sat in the back of an ambulance, face scrunched up as a paramedic applied butterfly bandages over a cut on her forehead. I parked and opened the car door in time to hear him tell Julia that she really should go to the hospital.
Bull stood nearby, talking with two patrol officers. At one point, all three glanced over at my grandmother’s yellow Mercedes, and Bull shook his head sadly. Julia had ended her escapade on the front lawn of a brick ranch house, her car crumpled against a stately ponderosa pine tree.
A woman in a pink terry cloth bathrobe stood on the front porch, a small white terrier at her feet. The dog kept up a constant yap at all the excitement and, as I joined my grandmother and the paramedic, Julia shouted, “If someone doesn’t shut that rat up soon, I’m going to light a fire under its ass.”
“You love dogs, Grandma. And you quit smoking twenty years ago.”
“So? Your grandfather still enjoys the occasional pipe. I’ll borrow his matches. And excuse me, but that is not a dog.”
“Are you badly hurt?”
“I’m fine, darling,” she said. “Such a fuss over nothing. Doc here is worried about my heart. He thinks I’ve had a sudden stress.”
She mocked the paramedic with her tone, but he continued to apply the bandages to her head, seemingly ignoring her.
Bull joined us and, when I glanced at him, he merely shrugged.
I took a deep breath. None of this was his fault, and it was unfair of me to punish him. He was trying to do the best he could in a situation that had no positive outcomes.
“What happened?”
He gave a wry smile. “Your grandmother finally pulled a fast one on Laura while she was in the restroom. I was in the backyard and didn’t hear a thing.”
“How did Julia get the car keys?”
“Beats me. She must have had a spare we didn’t know about. I’ve got them all locked in the—well, you know where they are.”
“And the front door?”
“We’re not Fort Knox, Gemma. The door is kept bolted, but we’re not living on lockdown. She got out.”
“She could have been killed, Bull.”
Julia squeezed my hands hard. I pulled them away. “Ouch, Grandma.”
“Please don’t talk about me like I’m not here, Gemma. You all are acting like I’m some common criminal. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong.” She crossed her arms and frowned. “I’m supposed to be at the ballet, and I’m a mess.”
I stared at her clothes: bowling shoes and satin pajamas. Bull just shook his head.
The paramedic finished. “Are you sure I can’t give you a ride to the hospital, ma’am?”
“There’s absolutely no need. I’m fine.” Julia slid off the ambulance’s back step and stood. “See? Just fine.”
The paramedic said to Bull in a low voice, “I can’t force her to go. She’s in your hands now, buddy. Good luck.”
As the ambulance and the patrol officers left, a tow truck arrived. We watched as it slowly extracted the Mercedes from the ponderosa pine, the three of us cringing as we saw the flattened front end, the flaking paint. The car was totaled. It was a miracle that Julia hadn’t been badly injured. As it was, she’d likely have a nice scar as a reminder of this adventure.
I followed them back to their house, where an upset Laura scolded Julia, then forced her to take a nap.
Bull grabbed two cups of coffee and joined me in his “chambers,” the small study just off the front living room. He handed me a coffee, then took a seat behind his desk.
I stood, scanning the framed photographs and newspaper articles that lined the wall behind the old brown leather couch. When he was a judge, Bull had been something of a minor celebrity in town. It seemed everybody wanted to be friends with the man who one day might run for mayor … maybe even Congress. But politics had never been Bull’s passion, and the longer he spent i
n retirement, the more time he spent here, at home, with Julia and Laura as his most constant companions.
I sat on the sofa. Bull faced me, his face grim, his fingers tented together and resting on the desk blotter.
“This is serious, Bull. What if a child had been in that yard? You and Laura … you can’t keep her here, not safely, not anymore. It’s too big a burden.”
He lifted a finger, pointed at me. “It’s not a burden. It’s a gift to be able to care for her.”
“Burden, gift. I don’t care what you call it. It’s too much. What about her social life? She doesn’t go out with friends anymore, or see people other than her family. Don’t you think it might do her some good to spend time in the company of others like her? I visited Carver Estates. A resident there is the mother of one of my murder victims. It’s a nice place, Bull. It’s affordable and safe and, most important, Julia could be with people who understand her.” I sipped my coffee, set the mug down. “She’s only going to get worse. What will it take for you to admit that?”
He put his head in his hands, rubbed his scalp. “I pray every night, Gemma, that your grandmother has only peace and love in her last few years here on this earth. Shoot, we might not even have years. It might be months. I feel like we’re staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, waiting for it to go off. I’d give anything to trade places with her. What am I going to do after she’s gone?”
“I don’t know. We’ll get through it, though, I promise. As a family. But right now, we have to consider what’s best for Julia. And for you. You’ll run yourself into the ground if you keep going like this, and we need you to be here, to be strong. Brody, Grace … we need you in our lives, Bull.”
He looked up at me with tears in his eyes. “You do?”
“Of course we do! We love you, and I’ve only ever wanted what is best for you and for Julia. And I have to say, I think we’re at a point where what’s best is a move to an assisted living facility. You will still be her guardian, her voice. Nothing will ever change that, Bull.” I handed him a tissue from a box on the end table, and he blew his nose mightily. “We don’t have to make a decision today. But please, give me your word that you’ll think seriously about this. After my cases are done, you and I can tour Carver Estates. If you don’t like it, there’s another care center in Avondale that has an excellent reputation.”
Lost Lake Page 27