Ropes and Trees and Murder

by Patti Larsen

  Mom tugged at me as I left the step to go to Matt while Crew answered his ringing phone, turning his back on me to talk quietly into it. I soothed my mother’s anxiety with a pat to her hand so she’d know I wasn’t about to murder Robert in full view of everyone after all before stopping at Matt’s side with my hands clenched into fists.

  Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t be killing my cousin, but the misguided ranger in front of me? Oooh. Boys.

  “What the hell were you thinking withholding evidence?” Because I wasn’t a snooping busybody who’d held a few things back from Crew in the past. Uh-huh.

  Matt flinched, running one hand through his hair, before grinning weakly at me. “I’m sorry. I was going to show it to you last night and we were interrupted.”

  Oh no he did not just put this mess on me. “Nice try,” I snapped, keeping my voice down. “You should know better.”

  He blushed again. “I do,” he said. “It’s just… Fee.” He cleared his throat, looked around and I realized he was about to start saying things that really shouldn’t be said on a sidewalk out in public with the man I wanted to date turning slowly toward us, still talking on the phone. Ack. “I was a jackass last night. I know you and Crew…” he hesitated again and I almost whacked him to stop him from stuttering out what he said next. Instead, I held my breath and did my best not to wince. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you out since you got home.”

  Well, hell in a handbasket. He had to tell me now?

  “Nice going,” I shot back. “What, I was supposed to guess or something?” Sheesh.

  He laughed, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah?”

  Okay, that got a grin out of me, an easing of my temper from the sheer idiocy of the moment. “You’re not just a jackass,” I said. “You’re blind.” I shook my head at him, sighed out the last of the tension I’d carried since I agreed to keep my mouth shut last night in Pamela’s office and decided regardless of what he now thought of me, Crew would be getting an earful from Fiona Fleming, like it or not. For now, though, I had some advice to deliver, Matt frowning at my last statement. “If you’re into blondes, I know one in particular who’d be delighted if you’d get off your hands and ask her out.”

  Matt’s face lit up and he glanced at Petunia’s so fast I felt a bit hurt at the shift in his attention. “Daisy?”

  I was going to punch him for real. “Just ask Jill out, would you? You’re killing me here.”

  This time he looked like I had hit him before his shock turned to speculation. I walked away from him while the wheels turned—wishing her luck because apparently he wasn’t as swift as I’d thought, at least when it came to women—and joined Crew as he hung up on his caller.

  “No sign of the owner of the lens cap,” he said like he expected I’d be asking. “She’s one of the media, a photojournalist.”

  “Yes,” I said, “and I have a lot to tell you about her. I take it she and Pamela didn’t show up at your office this morning.” Well, too bad. She had her night to sort things out. I was done protecting her story.

  Crew shook his head, blue eyes intent. “Leave it to you to have what I need.”

  I wasn’t sure how to take that, but chose to brush off any negative implications. “If you’re interested in talking to her,” I said, turning my back on him, “I’ll be at Petunia’s. Knocking on her door.”

  He followed me without a word, waving to Mom on the way by. She watched me with careful eyes but I ignored her and kept moving, head high, nodding to the guests exiting the front door of my B&B while I did my best to show Crew Turner I couldn’t care less if he judged me or not.

  A quick check of Fleur’s room turned up an empty space, the photojournalist long gone. Crew stood in the middle of the abandoned suite with his hands on his hips, head down, eyes shadowed by his hat. He looked rather delicious in the dim light with a patch of sun beaming down at the tips of his boots, dust motes floating past the tan of his uniform shirt pulled taunt across his broad shoulders, his most shapely posterior firmly contained inside his blue jeans. I wanted to push back the dark hair curving over his collar, knowing from experience how soft his waves were. To cup that strong, tight jaw in my hands, run my thumbs over the faint stubble and feel the warmth of his lips on my mouth.

  Growl. For the last time, down, girl.

  Instead, I planted myself in his way so he couldn’t run for the hills and spoke into the quiet of the room, telling him everything I’d learned from the moment we’d parted until the fight on the street outside just a few minutes ago, leaving out nothing. Including my encounter with Matt.

  Crew didn’t respond, listening and holding still, while I used a crisp and calculated tone to share everything I knew. I did my best to stay impartial, to drop all of my information in the exacting and logical way I knew got through to him the most clearly. But when I finished and he didn’t move, I snapped, my temper waking once more despite myself.

  “Now you know what I know,” I said. “Except this final thing, Crew Turner.” That turned his head, caught his attention, his blue eyes fixing on me, silent and watchful. “If you plan to listen to someone like Robert Carlisle over trusting me, if you want to be a jealous ass who judges something he didn’t even witness, you can take a walk right now and keep walking.” I stepped aside from the door to the room and gestured for him to go. “Because I’m not that girl. And I never will be.”

  Now, in all honesty, I had no idea what he was thinking, or even if my worry about what he might have surmised from Robert’s little tattle tale session was a reality or fantasy. I was running on instinct, obviously, and the renewal of the hurt I’d felt when Ryan cheated on me and left me bereft and adrift. So, to be fair, this wasn’t about Crew and I likely sounded far more over reactive than I needed to be. But there it was and there we were.

  Crew exhaled into the quiet dimness, hands dropping from his hips. He closed the distance between us in two strides. I had no idea the misery that engulfed my heart until he embraced me, hugging me tightly to his broad chest. In that moment the hurt lifted and I suppressed a shudder at its passing.

  “I know,” he whispered. “Robert’s a jerk. And so am I.”

  So he had doubted. I couldn’t bring myself to be angry anymore. Well, not much.

  “I have no idea what’s wrong with me.” Crew pushed me back, smiled down at me, open honesty in his gaze, the man I was falling in love with standing before me again. “You’ve been patient and I’m being ridiculous.” He bent and pressed his lips to my forehead, the brim of his hat brushing over my hair. “God, you make me crazy. You know that?”

  I choked on my answer before finding my voice again. “Same here.”

  We stood a long moment, absorbed in each other, while my heartbeat returned to normal and the fear and doubt and judgment I’d turned against myself—Ryan had so much to answer for and I had a lot of digging out of what was left of him to do—withered and died under Crew’s calm, gentle gaze.

  I kissed him finally, just a short, sweet touch of his lips on mine before punching his arm. He grinned, rubbing the spot like it hurt (poor baby) and sighed.

  “No kissing on the job,” he said, gruff but teasing.

  “Whatever,” I eye rolled.

  He stepped around me, his turn to gesture at the door. “Miss Fleming.”

  “Where are we going?” I arched an eyebrow at him, but preceded him out into the hall without an answer.

  “I have a photojournalist to chat with,” he said, paused to smile at me. “I could use an introduction.” Another brief moment of quiet followed. “Are you coming or not?”

  ***

  Chapter Thirty One

  Of course, when we arrived at the Gazette office, the doors were locked and despite a call to the house, Aundrea informed us the journalists weren’t home.

  “Pamela’s not answering her phone.” Aundrea sounded nervous, but that was a typical state for her so I did my best to reassure her before signing off.

 
Crew frowned at his hands where they rested on the steering wheel, eyes distant. “Would Fleur King have a motive to kill Lewis Brown?”

  Hmmm. There was an idea I hadn’t considered. “She seemed pretty adamant about keeping her story to herself until she published it,” I said. “But wouldn’t she want him alive when she did that?”

  Crew nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. It’s not like hanging him from the zip line was a crime of anger, either. So if he confronted her about her story, wouldn’t she just have maybe struck him in defense?”

  “Exactly,” I said, staring out the window at the passing foot traffic, at the towering statue of Captain Reading and sighed, headshaking over the graffiti phallic symbol the local unknown artist refreshed sometime last night on the front of the bronze’s breeches. “Why make a statement like that? Take the time to hang him before sending him down the zip line?”

  “How about Philip Davis?” Crew turned to meet my eyes, leaning one big shoulder against the side window as he pivoted toward me, voice deep and thoughtful. “If Blackstone is behind the fake woodpecker story, would they want to stir up controversy by killing off their bought and paid for protestor? I would think their typical process would be a quiet ending and murder doesn’t play into that.”

  “Unless Philip took matters into his own hands.” Did I believe that? He’d sounded annoyed on the phone, angry about the circumstances. “Who does that leave?”

  “Aiden and Carmen,” Crew said. Hesitated. “Jared.”

  “Again, why go to all the trouble of setting up the park to take the fall?” I sighed as I chewed my bottom lip. “It’s their livelihood, right? Their dream.” Carmen’s at least. “What if Aiden knew about Carmen and Philip and was trying to ruin her?” But didn’t he have his own stake in Zip It!? “Do you know if they were all equal partners?”

  “Actually, most of the money came from Carmen,” Crew said, nodding as he followed my train of thought. “And Jared. She inherited from her parents when they died and invested that trust fund in the park. Aiden had a small nest egg and Jared fronted the rest. But the majority of the risk was hers.”

  “So, if Aiden wanted to hurt her for hurting him…” Still, murder was a long way to go. “I could see him killing Philip, maybe. But why Lewis Brown?” It didn’t make any sense. “And if Lewis was working for Blackstone, could it have been some other protestor?” I thought about Grace. “What about his partner?”

  Crew shook his head. “I’m afraid Fleur is off base there,” he said. “I know for a fact Lewis wasn’t working for Blackstone.”

  Oh really. “Former FBI coworkers come through for you, maybe?” I didn’t mean to approach that information so archly, but Crew flinched a bit before shrugging.

  “I meant to tell you,” he said. “Didn’t seem important for you to know I used to be with the Bureau.”

  Uh-huh. “Why would she think so, then?”

  “He was recently under investigation,” Crew said, “for his part in the fraudulent claims of endangered species popping up around the country. Turns out he was getting paid quite well to chase the claims. But there’s no connection to Blackstone.”

  “Then who was paying him?” That didn’t make sense either.

  “Some shell corporation,” Crew said. “The FBI is still chasing down who owns it, but they suspect from the online payment activity it’s an activist fund, privately owned and meant for jobs such as this, to sabotage land sales to large companies. Trouble is, if they’re breaking the law, while it might be well intentioned it’s still illegal.”

  I didn’t comment that sometimes illegal action against corporations like Blackstone might be the only defense for small towns like ours. “If Lewis wasn’t working for Blackstone, we’re back to Philip. He might have killed him and set up the murder to make an example of Lewis and the people funding him.” Something still didn’t feel right.

  “We both saw him just prior,” Crew said, staring out the windshield now.

  “It wouldn’t have taken much to get his hands on some of the line that was used to strangle Lewis,” I said.

  Crew grunted. “Aiden confirmed the rope used was the same that was taken from Zip It! that morning.”

  “The theft happened pretty early on, though it was Aiden who specifically reported it.” To hide his tracks? “Philip is a pretty solid guy. If Lewis was already up the tree…” I left it hanging. No pun intended. “What about the footprint? The discarded sign at the bottom of the tree?” I thought about Matt, wondered if he’d forwarded the image to Crew or not.

  “Jill spotted it,” he said. “It’s on my list. I have her checking shoes, but there were a ton of people there that day. Not only have most of them already skipped town, the few we managed to take imprints from all wore the same brand so it’s a bit of a dead end.” He sounded about as frustrated as I felt.

  “I still maintain the lens cap isn’t a clue,” I said. “There was no blood on Lewis’s body.”

  “Agreed,” Crew said. “It’s likely Fleur climbed the tree to take pictures of the crime scene and left it behind. Still, I want to ask her that directly.”

  “Did Dr. Aberstock confirm strangulation as the cause of death?” I picked at a stray thread on the thigh of my jeans as my mind turned over and over.

  “He did,” Crew said. “No other signs of trauma.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “The fact is, Carmen has an alibi, despite chasing Philip. Lewis died in the window she was with the reporters. But Philip didn’t appear on camera and she chased him after Lewis was dead.” Okay then. “Aiden is off the hook, too, from the footage I viewed. But Jared isn’t, Fee.” Well, that sucked. “I’m going to have to bring him in for questioning.”

  Maybe I should have been more worried. Except I had little doubt my friend was innocent so I shrugged. “Alicia was there.”

  “Not until after you found the body.” He was being careful with me. I really needed to cut him some slack if he felt he couldn’t be honest.

  “You have a job to do, Crew,” I said. “So do it. But if you think Jared has a motive, I’d like to hear it.”

  Crew sighed softly, squeezing my fingers. “If I’ve learned one thing on this job, it’s that people’s motivations are about as convoluted as the idiotic politics in this town.” I couldn’t argue with him there. “Let’s think about it, though. If Jared thought Lewis was working for Blackstone, maybe he saw him as a threat. Everyone knows the kid’s been overworked since his father died and left him holding a bag of fraudulent business dealings as deep as Cutter Lake.” He didn’t have to remind me. “Lewis was threatening his venture, his friends. He might have snapped.” I wasn’t so sure about that. Crew must have sensed my argument because he went on in that same level, logical tone. “I have enough evidence of his failing temper, Fee,” he said. “If two fights in public aren’t enough for you, I don’t know what is.”

  I almost spoke up, offered excuses, and realized he was right. The Jared I knew was on the edge. I’d seen it in him before this even started. And hadn’t Carmen mentioned she was worried about him? But did that make him capable of murder? “I’m going to back away from that,” I said, hating that my tone was so soft and unsure. This was Jared we were talking about. “He was defending his friend.”

  “And his business.” Crew sounded bummed about it, at least. “I like him too, Fee, but.”

  But.

  “I have it on good authority Jared’s stretched himself pretty thin these days. Financially, emotionally, mentally. He’s trying too hard, Fee, and that’s a dangerous combination.”

  Damn him, why did Crew have to be right? Just enough I doubted?

  Crew seemed like he didn’t want to go on before he released my hand and spoke again, this time without looking at me. On purpose. “I’ll have to talk to your father, too.”

  That made two of us. “Dad had no motive for murder.” But he was working for Blackstone and Philip Davis. That still rankled, honestly.

  Crew laughed at tha
t, a rumbling sound without an edge that woke a grin on my own face. “Don’t worry,” he chuckled, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger before sighing out the last of his amusement. “I’m not even going there. The Fleming family gets a pass from now on unless I catch one of you in the act or with the murder weapon.” He winked at me, blue eyes sparkling. “Anyone else?”

  “Just Lewis’s fellow activists,” I said. “If they thought he betrayed them…? Sold them out?” They were a pretty passionate bunch. “Grace?”

  Crew thought about it a moment. “A definite possibility,” he said. “But she’s older and not very agile, from what I’ve seen. According to the footage she didn’t take a harness or helmet. She left the climbing to Lewis.” I would have to trust him on that, I guess, since asking to see said footage would likely end in a resounding no. “Could she have even made it up the tree?”

  “She might have had help.” I thought about her reaction to his death. “She seemed really broken up by his loss.” A good actress or innocent of wrongdoing? I clenched my hands in my lap as the last pool of suspects crossed my mind. “What about the Pattersons?”

  Crew didn’t respond right away. When he finally answered, he sounded thoughtful, not worried, despite his words. “I don’t want to think about them right now.”

  Hmmm. Okay then.

  Crew drove me home, pulling up in front of Petunia’s. Before I could leave the cab, he put the truck in park and leaned toward me, one hand sliding around my neck, cradling my head as he bent close and kissed me. My heartrate quickly increased, my breath catching as his lips parted from mine after a long, lovely moment.

  “Keep me posted, Master Detective,” he said. Grinned.

  I grinned back. “You too, G-Man,” I winked.

  Crew laughed and let me go. “Get out of my truck,” he growled.

  I watched him drive away from the curb, wondering how many more secrets of his I’d have to uncover and shivering a bit at the delight of knowing I’d get the chance.