by Sarah Fox
I backed away from the window. I didn’t know why Jonah had broken into the house, what he’d hoped to find, but I did know one thing for certain—he sure as heck wasn’t looking for his mother’s earring.
Chapter 21
The first law enforcement officer on the scene arrived half an hour later and introduced himself as Deputy Rutowski.
“I understand you reported a break-in,” he said as soon as he’d identified himself.
“That’s right,” I confirmed.
I explained what I’d come home to and told him about Jonah’s flight from the property. Despite my assurances that the intruder was gone, Rutowski told me to remain outside while he went in the house to take a quick look around. I asked him to keep an eye out for Flapjack, worried that Jonah’s intrusion might have frightened him.
I chewed on my bottom lip as I waited, concerned about Flapjack and the whole incident. As soon as the deputy reappeared on the porch, I hurried over to meet him.
“Any sign of Flapjack?” I asked.
“Sorry, no. And no sign of anyone else in there, either.”
I wasn’t surprised about that. Jonah hadn’t given me any reason to believe he’d had an accomplice with him in the house. As for Flapjack, I hoped that he hadn’t escaped out the broken window, although I thought it unlikely. He’d probably fled from the office when Jonah shattered the glass.
“I closed the office door so your cat won’t wander into the room and hurt his paws on the broken glass.”
“Thank you.”
We both turned as another sheriff’s department cruiser trundled its way along the driveway toward the house. When it drew closer, I recognized the driver: Ray Georgeson.
After Ray had climbed out of his vehicle, I went over everything once again for his sake. He and Deputy Rutowski then went inside without me. I sat on the front steps to wait, a myriad of thoughts swirling about in my mind.
Why had Jonah broken into the house? What was he after?
I knew he wasn’t looking for an earring and I knew he’d targeted Jimmy’s office. But why? What could possibly be in Jimmy’s office that Jonah Krantz would want?
Whatever it was, he must have wanted it desperately enough to commit a crime to find it.
And if he’d committed one break-in, had he committed others? Was he the intruder at the pancake house? He’d had an opportunity to steal Leigh’s key, after all.
Was he responsible for the rash of recent thefts in the area and the stash of stolen artwork in the workshop?
If so, had he also killed Jimmy?
I shivered at that thought. If he was a murderer, I probably shouldn’t have confronted him. He might have tried to silence me. Permanently.
But he hadn’t. Did that mean he wasn’t a killer?
Not necessarily. I’d had my phone with me. He could have considered harming me but then decided against it when he realized I was only one push of a button away from summoning help. There was that brief moment when I’d worried he might lunge at me. Maybe the thought really did cross his mind.
Georgeson and Rutowski emerged from the house and I got back to my feet, anxious to hear what they had to say. Although Deputy Rutowski headed straight for his car, Ray stopped to talk with me.
“Rutowski is going to take some photos and dust for fingerprints. After that, you can take a look around and see if anything’s missing.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll know if anything is missing,” I said, “but I’ll take a look anyhow. What about Jonah?” I’d already told him that I knew the intruder, that I’d identified him without a doubt.
“I’m going to head out and track him down. It shouldn’t take long to find him.”
Unless he’d skipped town, like Daryl Willis.
I thanked Ray for coming by and he climbed into his cruiser. As he drove off, I settled back on the front steps, waiting for Deputy Rutowski to finish his work. I didn’t know what to make of this latest turn of events. As far as I was concerned, Jonah Krantz, Daryl Willis, and Gerald Teeves were all good candidates for the number-one suspect in Jimmy’s murder. But I doubted that they’d all worked together to kill Jimmy, so which one of them had done it?
I didn’t have the answer to that question. Heck, as far as I knew, the killer could have been someone else entirely. Ida Winkler, maybe, or someone I hadn’t considered, someone I didn’t know. Yet, although that could have been the case, I couldn’t shake the feeling that at least some of the recent events were connected to Jimmy’s death. But which ones?
With a frustrated sigh, I dropped my head into my hands. My thoughts were taking me around in circles, getting me nowhere. I knew I was missing something important. There had to be something, some clue or bit of information that would connect the dots and make it clear which events were related and which ones weren’t.
The trick would be to find that information. But where would I even start?
I knew Ray would tell me not to start anywhere, to leave it to him and his colleagues, but that was getting harder and harder to do. I didn’t want a killer to go free, and I didn’t want to feel unsafe in this place that had long been a haven for me. I also didn’t want people thinking Jimmy was a thief, as some already did.
But what can you possibly do about any of it? I asked myself.
Before I could come up with an answer, Deputy Rutowski’s footsteps sounded behind me. I stood up as he appeared in the doorway.
“You can come in and take a look at things now,” he said.
I followed him into the house and turned left into Jimmy’s office. Fingerprint powder was visible in several places, including the windowsill, the desk, and the filing cabinet. I hoped Jonah had left behind some prints to back up my eyewitness identification.
I wandered around the office, checking to see if anything obvious was missing or out of place. The computer seemed untouched, and the same was true of the few pictures and knickknacks adorning the room. I took a quick peek into the drawers of Jimmy’s desk, but aside from more disarray than usual, I didn’t know if anything was different. As for the filing cabinet, I had no idea what had been in there before Jonah’s break-in, so I had no way of knowing if he’d removed anything.
If he’d had something in his hands when I confronted him, I would have noticed. I also probably would have noticed if he’d had a sheaf of papers or anything else stuffed up his shirt. So if he’d removed anything from the house, it wasn’t anything big or bulky—maybe a few papers he’d folded up and put in his pocket or…
The figurines!
I rushed across the hall and into the front living room. My eyes scanned the room, counting the figurines on display. I didn’t think any were missing, and the crystal vase still sat on the end table. He couldn’t have removed something of that size without me noticing, anyhow.
My shoulders relaxed.
“Nothing missing so far?” Deputy Rutowski asked.
“Not that I know of.”
“We should check the rest of the house, just in case he strayed beyond the office.”
Together, we went from room to room. I found Flapjack under my bed, huddled among some dust bunnies, but he refused to respond to my attempts to coax him out into the open. Deciding to leave him alone for the time being, I continued to go from room to room with Rutowski until we’d checked the entire house.
Aside from the office, nothing seemed disturbed. I told Deputy Rutowski as much and we returned to the front door.
“It’s probably going to rain,” the deputy said as we descended the front steps, “so you should get that window boarded up until you can get it fixed.”
“I can help with that.” Brett made his way around Rutowski’s parked vehicle to approach us.
At the sight of him I immediately felt better, if only slightly.
He nodded at Rutowski. “Hey, Kyle.”
“Brett,” Rutowski returned with an amiable smile. “How’s it going?”
“All right. What happened here?” Brett eyed the b
roken window.
“Break and enter,” Rutowski replied.
“By Jonah Krantz,” I added.
Brett’s concerned gaze shifted to me. “You’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I assured him.
“I’ll be on my way,” Rutowski said, carrying his camera and other gear back to his cruiser.
“Thanks for everything,” I called to him.
A moment later, he started up the cruiser’s engine and set off along the driveway. I rubbed my arms, the chill of the gray afternoon getting to me through my jacket.
Brett surveyed the broken window. “Kyle’s right. We’d better get this boarded up before the rain starts.”
“I don’t think Jimmy has any plywood around here. I haven’t seen any, at least.”
“Not a problem. I’ve got some over at my place. I’ll go grab it.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, you wait here. My van’s parked out on the street.” He set off toward the road. “Won’t be long.”
Watching him go, I hoped we’d have more of a chance to talk once he returned. I didn’t know what he thought about seeing me with Michael and I wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any awkwardness between us. The last time we’d been alone together had been amazing and I wanted to feel that spark again, even if it was destined to last only until I returned to Seattle.
While Brett was gone, I retrieved a garbage can from around the side of the house and dragged it over to the broken window. He drove up in his van a few minutes later and I helped him unload a piece of plywood and a stepladder from the back.
“Why would Jonah break into Jimmy’s house?” Brett asked as he set the ladder next to the office window.
“No idea,” I said. “Maybe he was after some sort of evidence that could tie him to Jimmy’s murder?”
Brett eyed me as he tested the stability of the ladder. “You think he’s a suspect?”
“Sure. He’s shifty and he committed a break-in. Who knows what else he’s capable of?” Something occurred to me then. “Maybe he was looking for the artwork. When he realized it wasn’t in the workshop anymore, maybe he thought I’d moved it into the house.”
“Artwork?”
Realizing that Brett didn’t know about the paintings I’d found in the workshop, I filled him in. Then I brought up another possible connection that had crossed my mind earlier. “Maybe Jonah was the person in the pancake house the other night, too.” I watched as Brett pulled on a pair of work gloves and checked the window frame for any remaining glass. “Except, now that I think about it, I don’t think Jonah was looking for the artwork. He searched Jimmy’s desk and filing cabinet.”
“Maybe he was after business documents of some sort.” Brett removed a shard of glass and dropped it into the garbage pail.
“Maybe. Although I can’t think why.”
Brett ran his gloved hand across the windowsill one last time before grabbing the piece of plywood and hoisting it up so it covered the window. “Can you hold this here?”
I used both my hands and one shoulder to keep the board in place while Brett climbed the ladder, taking a cordless power screwdriver and screws with him.
“I think it’s more likely that Daryl put the artwork in the workshop,” I said after Brett had driven the first screw into the plywood.
“Because he was hanging around the other day?”
“Partly, but there’s more to it than that. I was talking to Michael about him last night.” My heart skipped a beat as I said those last words, and I watched for Brett’s reaction.
“Right. I saw you guys coming out of CJ’s.”
Neither his voice nor his face betrayed what he thought about that, if anything.
“It wasn’t a date, at least not in my mind,” I said quickly.
He drove another screw into the plywood before glancing down at me. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”
“But I want to. I don’t want you thinking I’m interested in him.”
“I don’t.”
“No?”
He held another screw in place. “Maybe I was worried there for a bit, but you’ve put my mind at ease.”
“Good,” I said as a wave of relief washed over me. “I just wanted a chance to talk to him, to see what he knew about Daryl,” I continued. “It turns out Daryl has a record for theft and assault.”
“So you think he might be responsible for the recent burglaries and Jimmy’s murder?”
“It’s possible.”
“Just be careful, okay, Marley? I don’t want you asking the wrong questions of the wrong person. That could be dangerous.”
“I know. I’m being careful.” I thought I was, at least.
We didn’t speak for the next few minutes while he finished securing the plywood over the window. I wished my mind would stay focused on the recent crimes, but it refused to do so. My eyes followed Brett as he climbed down from the ladder, and my stomach did a nervous backflip. I wanted to pull him toward me and kiss him, to forget about everyone and everything except him, but all my familiar worries had resurfaced.
Some of my unhappiness must have shown on my face, because when Brett glanced my way his eyes darkened with concern.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Marley? You look upset.”
“I guess I’m a bit muddled,” I confessed.
He watched me as he folded up the ladder. “You’ve been through a lot the last few days. Will you at least consider coming back to stay with me and Chloe? I really don’t like the idea of you being here on your own, especially at night.”
“I’ll be all right,” I assured him. “But thanks.”
Brett shoved the ladder into his van and pulled off his gloves, his gaze resting on me again. “Is there something specific that’s got you muddled? Something other than the break-in and Jimmy’s murder?”
“Yes.” I hesitated, not knowing what words to use next.
“If I crossed a line yesterday—”
“No,” I said, cutting him off, not wanting him to think that even for a second. “It’s not that.”
His eyes hadn’t left my face. “Then what’s wrong?”
I drew in a deep breath and let it out before replying. “I’m leaving in a few days, going back home. That’s not going to be easy.”
His deep blue eyes held mine. I thought I caught a flicker of disappointment in them, but I couldn’t be sure. I waited for him to speak, dreading what he might say.
“You’ve decided to sell Jimmy’s properties?” he asked eventually.
“No, I don’t want to sell them, but I’ll have to hire a manager to look after The Flip Side, and maybe rent out the house.”
He nodded, his eyes shifting away from me. “I knew you were only here temporarily, but I guess I hoped you’d consider staying.”
My chest constricted, making each breath difficult. “I did. And I want to stay, for a lot of reasons.” I fought back the tears that wanted to flood my eyes.
Brett returned his gaze to me. “Then why leave?”
I closed my eyes briefly before reopening them. “I don’t see how I can stay here. I’ve got a job in Seattle and…” I didn’t bother to finish. Even to my own ears, my reasoning sounded feeble.
Brett nodded, tension evident in the set of his jaw. “I understand.”
My heart felt like it was sinking to the bottom of the sea.
He tried to smile, but it was barely a ghost of his usual grin. “Call me if you need anything over the next few days, okay?”
I nodded numbly, unable to speak.
He hesitated for a split second but then stepped toward me and kissed me on the cheek.
“Take care of yourself, Marley.”
I wanted to wrap my arms around him, to hold him close so he couldn’t leave, but he was already climbing into the driver’s seat of his van.
The door slammed shut and the engine revved to life. I caught one last glimpse of his profile before the van set off along the driveway
. I stood and watched it go, certain I’d just made a terrible mistake.
Chapter 22
I wished the stiff breeze could sweep away my heartache. I hated that there was now a wall between me and Brett, and all my doubt and indecision weighed heavily upon my shoulders. The damp air had me shivering inside my jacket, but I didn’t care. Not knowing what to do with myself, I shoved my cold hands into my jacket pockets and headed for the beach.
At the edge of the property, I climbed up on a log and looked out over the water. Still tinged with stormy gray and topped by whitecaps, the ocean seemed to mirror my mood. I felt a kinship with the turbulent waters as I remained on my perch, soaking in the sights and smells of the beach, until the first raindrops pelted down on my head.
Drawing in one last, deep breath, I turned around to head back to the house. I’d just jumped down from the log when something caught my eye. Forgetting my troubles for the moment, I swept aside the mass of curls blown into my face by the wind and took a closer look.
No, I wasn’t mistaken.
Logan Teeves stood at the top of the beach in front of his father’s property, casting furtive glances in my direction. When he realized I was watching him, he made a move to retreat toward his house, but then hesitated, his eyes once again straying in my direction. He seemed so uneasy and uncertain, and that piqued my curiosity.
Ignoring the rain that continued to splat down with large drops, I struck off in Logan’s direction, picking my way around a jumbled pile of logs and driftwood. As I drew close enough to see the expression of alarm that crossed Logan’s face, he again turned toward his house.
“Logan!” I called out.
Another hesitation on his part gave me the time I needed to catch up with him.
A flush spreading up his neck to his face, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stared at his sneakers.
“How are you, Logan?” I asked, deciding to start out with an unthreatening question.
He shrugged and mumbled, “All right, I guess.”