“It’s coming from the drive,” I said, pointing to the cars. A lot of people must have carpooled to the party, and I had seen at least one bus. But all that aside, there was still a ton of cars parked alongside Hemlock Estate’s long drive through the woods. They probably went all the way to the road. Maybe even beyond that.
“It could be anyone,” I whispered. “Maybe someone forgot something. Or they’re just late.”
Freddie gasped. “Someone big and handsome.” He pointed to a man emerging between the bumpers of two parked cars.
My heart thudded in my chest. “You can’t tell if he’s handsome from here.”
“But he sure is big,” Freddie hissed. “And why isn’t he sticking to the path that leads to the front door?”
He was right. Freddie was right. The man wasn’t following the cleared path that led to the front doors. He was veering off onto the lawn. The snow-covered lawn that led around the side of the house to the same view that Freddie and I had. The view into Matthew’s bedroom.
“That’s gotta be him,” Freddie whispered.
Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy.
“What do we do? What do we do?”
Freddie fumbled with his flashlight. “We stick to the plan.” He handed me the Blinder 3000. “You should work the light while I take the picture.”
“What? Me?” It’s not like I wanted to be the one to take the picture either, but … but … this was all just happening too fast! “Are we just going to run out there and ambush the man? What if he has a perfectly good explanation for—”
“For peeping into Matthew’s bedroom?” Freddie asked, fiddling with his phone. “If he does, then we’ll apologize.”
It certainly did look like the man was peeping. “I don’t like this. Maybe we could just ask for his picture?”
“’Cause would-be murderers are so cool with having their photos taken?” Freddie shook my arm. “Come on, I thought Candace was your new best friend. Stop being such a chicken and do this for her. Do this for Stanley!”
My eyes snapped back to Freddie. “Oh my God! Are you tweeting right now?” I could hardly believe my eyes, but Freddie’s face was washed aglow with the light of his phone as his thumb flew over the screen.
“There are thousands of people around the world following hashtag justice for Stanley. They’re going to want to know what’s happening.” He pressed his phone one last time. “There. I’ve got my camera set to rapid-fire. Now put your big-girl panties on and let’s do this thing!”
I gulped down a breath. “So we’re really going to just run out there and snap this guy’s picture?”
“We really are.”
“Okay,” I said shakily. “But, for the record, this is exactly the kind of thing we are not doing in the Year of the Adult.”
Freddie widened his stance and crouched. “And that’s why I say forever young!” And with that he took off, breaking free from the shelter of the trees.
Chapter Thirty
“Erica!” Freddie shouted. “The light!”
I scrambled to catch up, but it was hard to move quickly in a dress and snow boots. Freddie was having no trouble whatsoever. He was speeding across the lawn with his camera outstretched in front of him like a jousting lance. In fact he had almost made it to the startled man.
“Come on! Hurry! The light!”
I felt my dress rip up the side as I pumped my legs harder through the snow.
Almost there.
The enormous man had spun round at the sound of our approach, his hands out to his sides like he couldn’t quite decide which way to bolt. I pointed the flashlight out in front of me and hit the switch.
It was like … like … a brand-new baby sun had erupted from my hand.
The giant let out a surprised yell. His hands flew up to block the light.
I was so focused on trying to keep the light on him that I lost my footing on the uneven ground. I hit the snow hard enough to make my teeth snap shut, but I managed to keep my arm outstretched.
“Erica!” I heard Freddie shout, then, “Oh God! My eyes!”
I spun the flashlight away from where I thought Freddie was as I struggled to my feet, but I dropped the light in the process. The Blinder 3000 toppled in the air, the blast of light hitting me twice in the face before it hit the ground. Suddenly I could really see how this thing might cause seizures.
I fumbled blindly for it in the snow.
“Turn it off!” Freddie shouted.
“I’m trying!” I yelled back, patting ground.
“Seriously, turn it off,” Freddie called out again, quieter this time. “I think … I think he’s gone.”
Finally, my fingers hit the metal tube. Once I had it in my grip, I clicked it off then blinked, trying to restart my burned-out retinas.
“Erica?” Freddie called out again. “Where are you?”
“Over here.”
I heard more than saw him approach.
We took a moment to catch our breath.
“Did you get it?”
“I don’t know,” he said, still puffing. “Maybe. We’ll have to go through the pictures.”
I pressed my fingers against my closed lids. “Where did he go?”
“I just saw him take off. I went blind after that.”
I hauled myself to my feet and looked down at my dress. Wow, the side seam had split almost to my hip. I was also pretty sure that my knee was bleeding.
I tried to smooth my hair back from my face, but my gloved fingers kept getting tangled in the product-drenched clumps. “Let’s just go back inside.”
We trudged our way back toward the house in silence.
When we reached the back porch Freddie said, “You know, next time I’m not going to cheap out.”
“Huh?”
“For ten more bucks, I could’ve gotten us two Blinders.”
I didn’t answer.
“What do you think?”
I still didn’t answer.
“Nah,” he said a moment later. “Maybe not. You, me, and two Blinders? The world’s not ready for that kind of power.”
The Morning After
“That … that was horribly done.”
Freddie snickered.
“What’s so funny?”
“Well, I was just replaying the whole thing in my mind and suddenly the thought popped in my head, Hey, good thing I didn’t give her a gun.”
A snort escaped me before I slapped a hand over my mouth.
“It’s funny because”—Freddie’s laughter was growing—“you would have shot my face off!”
Strangely that made me laugh even harder.
“And your own!”
“Twice!” I added.
We laughed for a good solid couple of minutes then Freddie wiped at the hysterical tears escaping the corners of his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungover.”
My laughter settled and I coughed out, “Yeah, you’d think we’d been drinking all night.”
With that thought our mood settled back down into something much darker.
“Something’s not right. I mean, obviously so much is not right. But the whole drinking thing? We would have had to have started super early to be this hungover.”
“Yeah,” Freddie said, shaking his head no. “And I don’t remember visiting any of the bars.”
I rubbed my face. My cheeks were all pins and needles from the laughing. “I think I might have gone to the martini bar to see Mrs. Watson … but I’m pretty sure I didn’t drink anything.”
“It doesn’t make sense. We were being pretty responsible for us. Competent. Like even with the whole Blinder 3000 mishap, we still got the picture.”
“We did?”
Chapter Thirty-one
“No. No. NO!” Freddie must have taken a couple hundred pictures in under a minute with his rapid-fire.
“Lovely shot of a tree,” I said dryly.
“Well, you take the pictures next time.”
We were standing
on the terrace outside Matthew’s room. Freddie was swiping furiously through the photos. We were going to go inside, but Candace was still passed out, and we didn’t want to wake her if we didn’t have the shot. There was still no word from the twins or Tyler … or Grady.
I was feeling both exhausted and on edge all at the same time. After that last adrenaline rush, it was hard to think straight.
“Snow blur,” I said as Freddie flicked to the next shot. “That one looks like there might be a Yeti hidden in it.”
Freddie swiped back and brought the photo closer to his face. “Nah, it’s just a snowman.” His thumb slid across the screen again. “Wait! What’s that?”
I leaned toward the screen, squinting. It was hard to say for sure, but it did kind of look like … an elbow? “Keep swiping! Keep swiping!” More and more of the man appeared, moving in slow motion, as Freddie swiped at warp speed.
“Gah!” he shouted. “He’s got his hands over his face!”
“Just keep swiping!”
“I’m trying. My thumb is tired.”
“Give it to me.” I grabbed Freddie’s phone and starting swiping with my fresh thumb. Photos whipped across the screen. Almost there. Almost there. Wait … wait … his hands were dropping …
“Bam!”
Freddie grabbed my hand to bring the phone closer to his face. “Whoa,” was all he said when he caught sight of the image.
I nodded. “I know. Candace’s killer is—”
“Super hot,” he finished.
I yanked the phone back and shot him a withering look. “I was going to say that he does kind of look like Grady.”
“Actually, no,” Freddie said, snapping his fingers. “You know who he looks like?”
Our eyes met.
“Who?”
“That werewolf from the vampire show.”
I frowned. Now what was Freddie going on about? “Werewolf? Which one? The one with the teenage vampires?”
“No, no,” he said, grabbing his phone back. “The other one. From a while back. It was set in the South and had all that nudity?”
“Oh, I know who you mean,” I said, wagging an excited finger at him. “You mean the actor who married that actress on that funny show from Colombia.”
Freddie frowned as his eyes darted over my face. “I don’t watch Colombian shows.”
“No,” I said, swatting his shoulder. “She’s from Colombia. The show’s American.”
“They’re married?” Freddie asked, looking back down at his phone.
“I think so.”
“Oh wait,” Freddie said. “Didn’t she have some sort of lawsuit with some other guy about frozen embryos?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said with an excited nod. “I think you’re right.”
Freddie sniffed. “That’s why I’m not freezing my embryos.”
I gave him the side-eye. “Yeah, that’s why.”
We exchanged challenging looks then went back to looking at the screen.
“He is hot. I’m surprised I didn’t notice him earlier,” I said again, huddling in by Freddie’s shoulder to get another look. Well, to get a better look and to try to stop myself from freezing to death. His fur coat was radiating warmth.
Freddie let out a slow breath and frowned. “Why would someone this hot want to kill Candace?”
I threw him yet another look. “I can’t help but think that maybe those two things don’t have anything to do with each other.”
“Of course they do. Nobody this handsome should have to resort to a life of crime.”
I huffed a laugh. “Tell that to hot mug shot guy.”
“Hot mug shot guy?” Freddie asked.
“You know,” I said, searching his face. “That guy whose mug shot went viral?”
Freddie’s expression didn’t change. “That explanation supplied me with no further information.”
“You know the guy with the ice-blue eyes—”
“Oh yeah! I totally forgot about—”
“Oh my God! What is wrong with us! Why are we standing out here? Let’s go wake up Candace!”
“Yeah, Grady could be bleeding out as we speak.”
“I’m going to regret telling you that, aren’t I?”
“Probably.”
* * *
“Do you recognize this man?”
Freddie and I offered Dr. Reynolds and Rhonda a break from their bedside duties. Rhonda didn’t seem too keen to leave, probably because she knew we were going to question Candace, but she really had to use the restroom. There was no sign of Jessica. She was off probably falling in love with Matthew, like in the ballroom scene from Cinderella. Not that I cared. Much. I totally wished them well. Stanley was sleeping on a pillow near the fireplace. He looked so painfully cute with the IV bandaged to his little paw and his oversized cone of shame. We heard secondhand that Jessica didn’t want him gnawing at the needle, and she had one of the plastic contraptions in her van what with her moving offices. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the right size. But still, he did look adorable. In a miserable kind of way.
No word on Grady.
We had Candace propped up on pillows and somewhat awake. She was holding the phone up to her face, but if her hand wasn’t swaying then her face was. Finally she was able to lock onto her target. “Hey! I know him. That’s Joey.”
“Isn’t that the name of the werewolf guy in real life?” Freddie said with an amused smile. “You don’t think—”
I cut him off with a look. “That he really is a werewolf? No.” We had no more time for tangents. “Candace, how do you know this guy?”
She collapsed back against the pillow with a contented smile. It must be nice to be in that place where your troubles can’t reach you. Of course, they’d probably get her with a vengeance in the morning. “We’re pen pals.”
“Pen pals?” Freddie and I exchanged a look. Who had pen pals anymore?
“For over a year now,” she said, leaning over and grabbing my wrist to get me to sit down on the bed beside her.
“Would he…” It looked like Freddie was struggling to find a delicate way to phrase his next words. “Have any reason to want you dead?” And he failed.
“Joey?” Candace said with a laugh. “Joey would never do something like that. He’s found God.”
Well, this was getting curiouser and curiouser.
Candace didn’t seem to think her accident in the boathouse was anything more than an accident. I thought about trying to explain it to her—I mean, she certainly had the right to know—but it seemed kind of like a fool’s errand given her current state. Not to mention it did also seem kind of mean given our whole conversation earlier about everyone hating her. And she was so happy right now.
“Hey, so where exactly did he find God?” Freddie asked.
“Oh, in jail.”
I found myself blinking rapidly. Freddie was too. “I’m sorry, did you say jail?”
Candace nodded. “He just got out yesterday. I remember thinking it would be nice for him to get out in time for New Year’s. He wanted to come visit me,” she added with a cute deepening of her dimples, “but I didn’t think Grady would like that, and we have enough problems.” For just a second, she looked quite sad. Then she laughed and jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow. “Erica knows what I mean.”
I chuckled awkwardly. “So you and Joey were close, I take it? How did you meet?”
She flashed me another smile again. “Through the church. Our pastor thought if we exchanged letters with inmates, it would help with their…” She paused, looking very confused. “Rehabilitation,” she said suddenly. “That’s the word. But we’ve never met in person. I’ve seen pictures though. He credits me with saving his life. You know, because of the support of my letters. I think he had a little crush.” She pinched a little air between her fingers. “But I told him we couldn’t be together.” She shook her head no in a big side-to-side movement. “That I had a boyfriend.”
“And how did he take that news?”
“I don’t know.” She squinted and looked off at nothing. “I never got another letter after that.”
Freddie and I exchanged looks again.
I cleared my throat. “Do you know what he was in prison for?”
“I never asked,” she said with a thoughtful-sounding sigh. “I didn’t want him to feel judged.” Suddenly she slapped the mattress. “I think I’m ready to go back to the party now. I feel much better.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” I pinned her hand to the bed. “What do you say we hold off on that until we get Dr. Reynolds to check you over one last time?” Keeping an eye on Candace, while finding Grady, and being on guard for the werewolf, would really tax our resources—especially if Rhonda started testing all of Candace’s drinks for poison again.
“Really, Erica, I’m fine. And I need to talk to Grady.”
I’d be happy just to know he was all right. “I get that. I really do. Just hang on a sec—”
“Erica, can I talk to you?” Freddie asked, jerking his head for me to follow him to the far side of the room. He then held up some placating hands to Candace and mouthed the words, I got this.
As I walked toward him I mumbled, “You’re not seriously thinking she should go back to the party, are you?”
“Of course not,” he whispered. “I just wanted to be able to talk about her in the same room without her worrying that we are talking about how we are going to keep her in this room.”
I nodded. “Right. Right. I think I get that. Good plan.” Just then I noticed a large plastic box at my feet filled with medical equipment. That must be Jessica’s stuff. There was also a sharp astringent smell in the air. I looked in the garbage can beside the box. Broken glass. “What happened there?” I asked, pointing at the can while looking over my shoulder at Candace.
She frowned. “I think I heard that pretty vet saying some kid dropped her stuff?”
Freddie sighed. “Tyler. He’s got butterfingers.” He then threw a smile over my shoulder at Candace and whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “So what are we thinking here? That this is some kind of if I can’t have her, no one can–type scenario?”
Ring In the Year with Murder--An Otter Lake Mystery Page 16