by Elle Rush
There was nothing there. The dry, rotting timbers in the roof had gone up like kindling, as had the rest of the wooden structure. There wasn’t even much left to be cleaned up. The appliances needed to be removed but, sadly, everything that was left would fit into a couple of dump trucks.
He heard snapping branches and muttered grunts coming from the bush behind him. A moment later, Mac Mackenzie stumbled into view. The ash-streaked painter puffed out a greeting. “I thought you might be the arsonist returning to the scene of the crime,” Mac said. He squinted at Aaron. “You aren’t, are you?” he joked.
“Very funny.”
“I know it’s serious, but what is funny is that whoever did it actually did me a favor. Did all of us along this stretch one. We’re lucky the fire was contained, but by removing this eyesore, it may have increased our property values. Who knows—maybe the Pineys will finally sell the land now that their only reason to come to Holiday Beach is gone,” Mac said.
“Are you saying the land is worth more without the cottage on it?” Aaron asked. That added a new angle to the arson investigation.
“That’ll be up to the insurance adjustors, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” Mac stepped back and took in the entire clearing. “Man, we got lucky. If the boys and I hadn’t cleared so much deadfall out of the brush as we did, the rain wouldn’t have helped so much.” He pointed to some scorched saplings along the path coming from his place. “We pulled four full-length logs from in there. Can you imagine what would have happened if they’d been there to catch fire?”
“We got very lucky.”
“Do you think Joe Piney will want to sell? Because I’d be interested in getting this property too.”
“I’ll let you know if I ever get a hold of anybody,” Aaron griped. He still hadn’t had a single returned call from any of the contact numbers he’d been able to find. He’d been calling Joe Piney for three days straight to inform him about the loss of their cabin. Not even his son Gerald had bothered to call him back. If they didn’t respond by the end of the day, he was calling in favors with some police friends in Minneapolis and sending them to knock on doors until he got a response.
“Are you sure you haven’t seen anybody hanging around who shouldn’t be here?” Aaron asked. Mac worked with his younger sibling Doug at Mackenzie Brothers Painting. Aaron knew that kept him busy during the week, which was why Mac had only needed help from Trevor and Caleb on weekends. If he’d had a short day or some free evenings, he might have spent it on his property and seen something without realizing the significance.
“Not really. I missed the party from a couple weekends back. I saw the Soto-Rojas today, so I know they’re around, but other than it’s been very quiet. It always is this time of year. Seeing anybody on this stretch is memorable.”
That didn’t help at all. “What about Caleb Quentin?”
“Well, obviously he’s been around. He was staying here for a while, doing repairs. I guess he finished a couple weeks ago because I haven’t seen him since.”
“Are you positive?”
“Yes. The kid got a bum deal if you ask me. I hope he negotiated a better arrangement for his next place. The Pineys didn’t even leave the electricity on for him. He stayed here during the week. I saw him on the roof, patching spots and replacing shingles that blew off. It was pretty ballsy considering the shape of the roof. He patched some of the siding, got the worst of the deadfall away from the house, and chopped it into firewood. Not that you can tell now.” Mac gestured at the black spot where the woodpile had once stood.
“Are you saying the Pineys knew he was here?”
Mac shrugged. “I assume so. If he wasn’t, nobody cared enough to tell him to leave. Was he not here with permission?”
Now Aaron didn’t know what to think. Until the Pineys bothered to return a call, he didn’t know anything.
“Do you know where Caleb is now? I haven’t seen him in a while,” Mac continued.
“He’s staying at the Mission church shelter over in Bixby.”
Mac swore. “I wish I’d known. I could have found some hours for him, here or with me and Doug. How did you find out he was staying in Bixby?”
“Brooke told me he was sleeping in his car.”
“She knew? And she didn’t do anything? That doesn’t sound like her.”
The painter had a point. “She just found out. She’s been trying to find him a cheap place to stay.”
“That sounds more like it. Did she ask you for help?”
“She didn’t tell me. She knew Caleb was squatting here, and she didn’t breathe a word.”
“Did you want her to tell you-you or sheriff-you?”
What an odd question. “What do you mean? I am always the sheriff.”
“Maybe that’s why.”
People kept telling him that, but he was who he was. “I’m also Trevor’s father. She knows he’s been hanging out with Caleb. Caleb has spent just as many Friday nights at my place as Trevor has this fall. She should have said something.”
“I thought you said she just found out.”
“On the weekend,” Aaron admitted.
“You’d better make up your mind. Holding on to information like that for two days isn’t a crime.”
“I’m just trying to do my job, Mac.”
“She’s not stopping you from doing that. Maybe she was just trying to find a way to solve the problem without calling in the cops. No offense. Is it a crime to try to give yourself a little wiggle room to get out of a situation? Maybe she thought Caleb had permission, like I did.”
“She didn’t. She told me so.”
“You might want to think like someone who isn’t a cop and who has never played one on television. Whatever she thought, I assume she had no evidence that an actual crime was committed. She did know a teenager, your son’s friend, was in trouble and tried to help before involving you as a parent and as the sheriff. What would you have done in her shoes?”
Would Aaron have gone running to her with accusations of a potentially imaginary crime, pointing the finger at a child who was barely legal? Especially after witnessing Neil Dempsey’s repeated attempts to get him to find a patsy to blame for unproven, minor wrongdoings? Would he have assumed the best of her child’s friend and tried to help, or thought the worst of him?
He used to be the type of man who’d help first. He never used to reach for the handcuffs first and ask questions later. Perhaps Brooke had been right during the conversation they’d had long before the fire. Maybe he was so burned out on being a police officer that he’d forgotten how not to be one, even when it came to his own son and girlfriend. “You know, I’m not a bad cop. I do my job well.”
Mac gave him a disappointed look. “That’s not the question, Aaron. I think you know that.”
Chapter 29
Brooke’s ears ached at the squeal of tires as her car screeched to a stop inches from the big red mailbox on the corner. She closed her eyes when a bright yellow VW bug skidded toward her front bumper, then opened one cautiously when she didn’t feel an impact. Emily Handler looked at her with wide eyes through the windshield.
Up the street, Helen Pham wasn’t as lucky. The navy, extended cab pickup that Brooke had narrowly avoided had glanced off the passenger side of Helen’s SUV and bounced her into a street light.
Brooke turned off the engine and reached for her purse, which had slipped off the seat beside her and ended up on the floor.
Despite how mad Aaron was at her, she had no doubt the person she was calling would answer the phone. “I need your help, Aaron.”
“What’s wrong, Brooke?”
“Neil Dempsey’s son is heading north on Main Street.” She watched the pickup swerve into oncoming traffic at the three-way stop sign on the corner. “Now he’s heading north on Lakeside Drive. He almost hit at least two cars, and he hit Helen Pham for sure. He dropped a bottle in the liquor store parking lot, and from the glaze in his eyes when he drove by, he was already top
ped off.”
“Do you need an ambulance on scene?”
Brooke looked at the crowd gathering around the SUV. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll call for one if we do. Can you stop Ryan before he hurts anyone else?”
“I’m on it. I’ll call in for backup.”
“Don’t let him hurt you either. He’s driving like a maniac.”
“I won’t.” He went silent for a moment. “I’ve got to go.”
“Please call me later,” she said. But he was already gone.
That could have gone better, she said to herself. She expected the brusque tone. Aaron had not been thrilled with the way she’d handled the Caleb situation. He had a tiny point when it came to her sharing that information with him as Trevor’s father; she understood where that came from. What was really unfair was that he was mad as a Holiday Beach sheriff. On that front, she didn’t feel guilty at all. He was one to talk about trust. If she’d known for sure a serious crime was going on, she would have reported it, but he’d already convicted her on his opinion of what he assumed had happened.
She took a breath, then waved at Emily to back up. Once the Bug was safely back on the proper side of the street, Brooke pulled forward until she was in an actual parking spot. Then she got out and went to check on the other accident victims.
“Do you need an ambulance, Helen?”
“No, I’m mobile. I’m going to have to see my doctor, though.” The short Asian woman winced when she looked over her shoulder into the back seat. “I’m very grateful I was on my way to pick up Shelly at school instead of being on my way home with her in the back. Was that Ryan Dempsey behind the wheel? I think he toasted me with a bottle of scotch.”
“I’m not going to comment, but I encourage you to report what you saw, or think you saw, to the sheriff when he gets here.” Brooke was already in hot water. She didn’t need to make things worse.
“Do you think Sheriff Gillespie will catch them?”
“Absolutely. I’ve already called him.”
Helen pressed the ignition button, but the engine didn’t even turn over. “I guess there’s no way to drive this to the garage. I’ll have to call Tom for a tow.”
“I’m sure the police can drive you home,” Brooke said as a cruiser pulled up. She let Helen speak to the deputy first, then gave her own statement when Aaron didn’t appear. She hung around until the damaged cars had been taken away and the officer was preparing to leave.
“Do you know where Sheriff Gillespie is?” she asked.
“He’s back at the station.”
“I see. Thanks.”
She blinked rapidly as she walked back to her car. That news stung. She thought Aaron would have at least come out to the scene of the accident to see if she was okay. Or called her back to let her know that they’d caught the drunk driver. Or even to say, “Thank you for the tip about the crime in progress, Brooke.”
She tried to shake it off. She’d done her duty. She’d been a good citizen and a good friend. The rest was out of her hands.
Brooke thought she’d done a good job of hiding her irritation, but Jordan cornered her while they were doing dishes. Her little girl was taller than her now, so Brooke had to look up when Jordan said, “You haven’t texted with Trevor’s dad in a couple days. Is everything okay?”
“We’re a little annoyed with each other at the moment, so we’re taking some time to cool off.” At least, she hoped that was all that was going on. If it was more serious, she trusted Aaron would be an adult and discuss it with her.
After a long minute, Jordan asked, “Are you annoyed because I published the parking lot piece and he had to deal with Marjory Major?”
“What? No, Cookie, this has nothing to do with you.” Brooke wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulder. “I promise. We disagree on how I handled a situation. It’s a bigger issue that I first thought, but how we handle this will affect how we handle things in the future, so we need to make sure we find a solution we can both live with.”
Jordan squeezed her back. “Or he could just apologize to you,” she suggested.
“How do you know I’m not the one who needs to apologize?”
“Because you would have done it already.”
“You are, by far, my favorite child.”
“I’ll remind you of that the next time Principal Kelly calls.”
“What? Are you already working on a new story, or do I have the rest of the month off?”
“Mom, it’s already the twenty-third. That’s not much of a vacation.”
“Let me dream, Cookie.” It didn’t matter if Jordan had a dozen more stories coming out. Brooke pulled her over to kiss her cheek. “You are always the best part of my day. Don’t worry about me and Aaron. We’ll figure it out.”
She decided to give the stubborn man till eight o’clock to call her and update her on the Ryan Dempsey situation, among other things. If he hadn’t called by then, she would.
But she didn’t have to. Three minutes before the deadline he didn’t know he had, Aaron’s face appeared on her phone screen. For a brief moment, she considered turning her irritation on him and letting it go to voicemail, but she shook off the thought. Jordan disappeared to her bedroom, leaving Brooke in the living room, moonlight streaming through the window. “Hey there,” she said quietly.
“Hey yourself.” The line went quiet. “Sorry, I yawned there. How are you? Deputy Sanders said you were okay at the scene, but this is the first chance I’ve had to check.”
The accident had been hours ago. Knowing he’d inquired about her gave him a smidgen of goodwill since he hadn’t come to see her. “Are you still at the station?”
“I’m parked outside the house trying to find the energy to make it inside. It’s been a very long day.”
Brooke swung her feet onto the sofa and pulled the throw blanket over her legs. “Want to tell me about it?”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Where were you when I called?” she suggested.
“At Shelley’s Shack. Or what’s left of it.”
“Hmm.” She hoped she sounded supportive. The only reason he could be out there was if he was looking for clues for the arsonist. Despite Caleb’s alibi, she knew the teen was still Aaron’s best suspect.
“I ran into Mac while I was there. He knew Caleb had been staying in the cabin. He was under the impression Caleb had permission to be there. Since the Pineys haven’t bothered to call me back yet, I have no reason to think otherwise.”
Brooke clenched her teeth together so tightly her jaw ached. That was exactly what she’d said to Aaron, only she’d been dismissed without a thought. “Hmm,” she managed to say again.
“I was on my way back to the station when you called, so I was already on Lakeside Drive. I saw Ryan coming. Fortunately, I had time to hit my lights and the two other cars between us managed to pull over before he went screaming past me. By the time I managed to turn around, he’d already plowed off the road, through the guard rail, and into the lake.”
“Oh, no,” she breathed. The thick metal bands that lined the shoulder along the river were good for marking the edge of the road, but they weren’t meant to stand up to that kind of impact. “How was he?”
“Wet, but fine. After we fished him out and were loading him into the ambulance, he asked the EMT to go back and get the rest of his scotch from the front seat because he was thirsty.”
“Does that count as a spontaneous admission of guilt?”
“Have you been watching Law and Order repeats again?”
“It’s research!”
This is where they used to be. Teasing each other. Sharing their days. Brooke could pretend that they were again, but that was ignoring the problem. Sooner or later, they were going to have to talk about it.
“That will be for the judge to decide, but it’s not looking good for him.”
“I’m glad you got him before he hurt anyone else. I’ve been thinking of what would have happened if thi
s had been a week from now with all the little trick-or-treaters on the street.”
“Now I’m going to have that nightmare.” A heavy silence stretched between them. “How’s the studying going?” Aaron asked.
Brooke glanced at the textbook on the coffee table beside her. “It’s going. My midterm is on Monday.”
“That’s a big one, right?”
“Thirty percent of my grade.”
“I’ll let you study then. Have a good night, Brooke.”
“You too, Aaron.”
Coward! She wasn’t sure who that was aimed at—Aaron or herself. Jordan had been right. If she thought she’d been in the wrong, she would have apologized already. She assumed Aaron felt the same. But somebody needed to be the grownup and bring the discussion to the table, and today both of them had fallen down on the job. She’d been so grateful to hear from him that she hadn’t wanted to break the mood. Now her eagerness left a sour taste in her mouth.
She stretched and pulled the textbook and highlighter into her lap. She was too upset to sleep now, so she might as well study. She could at least keep that part of her future on track.
Chapter 30
Patrolling was supposed to be mindless. That was why he took the afternoon shift. Aaron cruised Main Street, then along Lakeside Drive, enjoying the sun glinting off the calm water on the lake. The air was cool, but the sky was bright and clear. It was no wonder that he turned the corner to find Gene Wyatt leaning against his backyard fence, rake in hand, taking in the nice afternoon.
“How goes the battle?” Aaron called through the open passenger side window.
“Leaf bags four, oak trees a lot more,” came the cheerful reply. “But I’m gaining on them.”
Aaron had never known the sprightly, white-haired senior to be caught resting on his laurels. Or even on his front porch. The Wyatts’ backyard was an ocean of blooms in the spring and summer. It took them a good month to get it ready for winter. It looked like Gene was halfway there. “Do you need a hand?” Aaron asked.