In the Waning Light (20 page)

CHAPTER 15

Drawn by the promise of coffee and a sweet pastry smell, Meg stepped into the kitchen. Noah sat on a stool at the counter eating a pile of syrup-soaked waffles. Blake was packing a school lunch. He glanced up sharply, and Meg saw his sudden worry at her appearance. She felt keenly that she was invading their space.

“Morning,” she said to Noah, coming closer.

“Hi. I’m sorry about your house.”

“Thank you.” She shot a questioning glance at Blake. He looked good. Freshly showered. Shaved. Bronzed. The memory of his touch, his taste, surged unbidden into the warm kitchen. She felt her cheeks heat and she didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m taking Noah to school,” he said. “Geoff is still asleep in the cabin, but I can get him to come up to the house and stay here while you get some more sleep.” He set a mug of steaming coffee on the counter in front of her.

“No. I mean, thank you, but I need to go fetch my camper and truck.” She couldn’t stay in this house with this boy and his dad. It was plain as day in this kitchen. Not while they were struggling through Noah’s issues over his mother—Meg still hadn’t asked Blake properly about that incident at her house the other night. And she needed to work.

“I’ve got an interview with Ty Mack’s lawyer in Chillmook at noon. Could you possibly give me a ride to my house, on your way back from dropping Noah off?”

He hesitated, his coffee mug in hand. “You’re not going anywhere alone.”

“I doubt I’m going to be in danger in broad daylight, Blake. Or in talking to Ty’s retired legal counsel.”

“We had a deal. Nothing risky on your own.”

“Lee Albies is not risky. Do I have time for a quick shower before we leave?” Noah was munching away, observing them both as one might watch a tennis match.

Blake set his mug on the counter. “I’m coming with you to meet the lawyer.”

“Look, I really—”

“I want my own answers. I want to hear myself what she says. And if you interview Ike Kovacs, I want to be there, too.” His eyes were narrowed, his posture unyielding. “And until they catch the shooter. Or shooters. Or until you have someone else with you,”—he paused—“you stay here nights.”

“I’m not letting those vandals win. I refuse to be the victim you accused me of being.”

“Don’t twist my words, Meg.” His gaze flickered to Noah, and he hesitated for an instant. “I was the one who found you half dead on the point that day. If the person who did that to you, to Sherry, is still out there—”

“Fine,” she said crisply. “Time for a shower?”

“Five, ten minutes tops. Noah, please will you show Meg where the guest room is.” He met her eyes. “It has a small bathroom en suite. Let Noah know if you need anything.”

Eager to have a role, Noah scrambled off the kitchen stool. “This way, Meg,” he called from the base of the stairs, before clattering up.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth!” Blake called after Noah.

Meg showered in haste, amped on adrenaline. She was thankful she’d had the presence of mind to pack a proper change of clothing and clean underwear, and she dressed quickly in jeans, T-shirt, and sweater. She eased socks over her feet, still tender, but Blake had done a good job of extracting the glass. She rewound the white bandage around her left hand. No time to dry her hair. She made a quick job of trying to run a comb through the tangles, but heard Blake’s diesel truck engine rumbling to life outside.

She hurried downstairs, found her jacket, grabbed her tote with her laptop, camera, recorder, and notebook, yanked on her boots, and pushed out the office door, little bells
chinkling
in her wake.

The air was salty fresh. Cold. Sun had yet to crest over the ridge but the sky was clear, the bay still as glass. A silver Jeep Wrangler was parked in one of the camper sites near the railing above the water. California plates. She guessed it to be Geoff’s. Noah was already inside his dad’s truck, seated in back with Lucy. Blake held open the passenger door for her.

“Your hair’s wet.”

“It’ll dry in the cab,” she said, climbing up into the seat. “
If
we put the heater on.” She smiled. He stilled, held her gaze. And she was suddenly conscious of the intimacy they’d shared in this cab not so many hours ago. She closed the door.

He geared the truck and they started up the gravel driveway. Geoff appeared up at the top of the drive in runner’s gear, and he jogged down to meet them.

“Uncle Geoff!” Noah yelled.

Blake slowed, wound down the window. Leaned his elbow out.

“Thought you were still sleeping.”

Hands on hips, breathing hard, Geoff grinned, his eyes light. “Been for a run. Does wonders to clear the head.” He bent down, peered in at Meg, then Noah. “You guys taking Noah to school?”

“Yup. Catch you later?” Something in Blake’s voice caused Geoff’s smile to fade. He gave a small salute and resumed his jog down the driveway. But as they were about to crest the top of the driveway, a sheriff’s cruiser swung into their path, and came to an abrupt stop, barring their exit.

Blake hit the brakes. “What the—”

The cruiser doors swung open. Out unfolded Kovacs and the female deputy, Hoberman.

“Great,” Blake muttered under his breath, winding down his window again. He kept the engine running.

“Dave, hey, we’re going to be late for school, what’s up? You find who did it?”

Kovacs looked beyond the truck and raised his hand. “Geoff Sutton! Whoa. Got a minute?”

Geoff stalled, turned, hesitated, and came slowly back up the driveway. Hoberman, however, made her way down toward the Wrangler. She reached the Jeep, looked inside the windows.

“It was bovine blood,” Kovacs said, waiting for Geoff to reach them, his thumbs hooked into his duty belt.

“Cow?”
Meg said, leaning forward in her seat to hear.

Kovacs’s gaze remained fixed on Geoff. “Sutton,” he said as Geoff reached them.

“Dave, hey.” He smiled, but his eyes were flat. “You look just like your dad these days—all business.”

“That your Jeep?” He jerked his chin at the Wrangler. “With the California plates?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Can you tell me where you were around four a.m. this morning?”

Geoff glanced at Blake. Noah sat wide-eyed, his hand going to rest
on Lucy, as if for comfort.

“I was driving around town. Taking a look-see at the old
haunts.”

“At four a.m.?”

“Yes. Nice and quiet. Feeling introspective. Been a while since I’ve been back.”

“And this introspection took you into the Forest End subdivision, into the back street along the woods?”

Geoff regarded Kovacs. A beat of silence hung. “What is this about?”

“A witness puts a silver Jeep with Cali plates on the street outside Meg Brogan’s house around the time she heard gunfire.”

All eyes were on Geoff.

“Were you on the street, Mr. Sutton?”

“I drove around to see the old Brogan house. Yes, I was on the street. Briefly.”

“Why?”

Geoff caught Meg’s eyes. Her pulse quickened.

“I told you,” Geoff said slowly, his face darkening, his eyes narrowing. “It’s been a long while since I’ve been home, and I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to see all the old haunts. I drove all over town, not just to Forest End. I had the radio on and when I got back to the marina, I heard the reports of gunfire in Forest Lane.”

“And you assumed the shooting was at the Brogan house.”

“No. They
said
it was at the Brogan house. It’s been the talk of the town for attracting graffiti and vandals, the radio announcer said. Everyone knows it. I woke Blake and told him, and he asked me to watch Noah while he went to see.”

Kovacs eyed him. “Mr. Sutton, do you own a .22 rifle with laser scope?”

Blake swung open his door, and dropped down out of his truck. “Okay, Dave, you’ve overstepped here. I need you to move your vehicle, so I can get my son to school—”

“Yes, I do,” Geoff said.

Blake spun to face his brother. “What?”

“The one Dad gave me—hunting rifle. A .22 with infrared sight.”

“You brought it with you?” Kovacs said.

Meg’s pulse beat faster. “What’s happening?” Noah said, his voice rising. She reached in back, placed her hand on his knee. “It’s okay. Dave Kovacs is just doing his job.” The bastard. He was messing with them. There was no way Geoff had shot up her house and painted it with cow blood. Was there? Mistrust unfurled slowly in her belly. “Stay in here, Noah.” She got out of the truck, marched around to where the men stood.

“I often take the rifle with me when I travel,” Geoff said.

“You like to hunt when you travel?”

“Yes, I like to hunt. I like to eat clean, wild food. I’m not one for factory-farmed crap. How about you, Deputy? You hunt your meat, or do you just hunt lowlife humans?”

Blake clamped his arm on Geoff’s, steadying him.

“Can I see the gun?” Kovacs said.

Geoff marched down to his truck where Hoberman stood. Meg and Blake hurried after them. Geoff fished in his pocket for keys, opened the back of his vehicle. He froze. What looked like a metal toolbox in the back had been forcibly wrenched open. Geoff lifted the lid. “It’s gone,” he whispered. “It’s all gone.”

He turned to Kovacs and Hoberman. “It’s been stolen. The rifle and fly rods were in here. Someone’s taken everything.”

Meg swallowed, glanced at Blake. His face was tight.

Kovacs stepped forward. “I’d like you to come down to the station with me, Mr. Sutton.”

“What for? I didn’t do anything. This is ridiculous. Why on earth would I want to take potshots at Meg’s house?”

Kovacs motioned to Hoberman. She stepped aside to place a call.

“We need to take in your vehicle, sir.”

“Surely you need a warrant for that,” Meg said.

“We’re getting one. Mr. Sutton, can you come this way, please.”

“Are you arresting me?”

“We’d prefer it if you came voluntarily, just to answer a few questions and to let us take some prints. For elimination purposes.”

“Geoff, you don’t have to,” Meg said. “They need a—”

“It’s fine.” He held his palms up. “It’s fine. I’ll go. I have nothing to hide.”

Kovacs motioned to Hoberman, who killed her call, presumably made to secure a warrant. She joined Kovacs. “Take him up,” he said quietly.

“This way, please, sir.” Hoberman touched Geoff’s arm and led him up to the waiting cruiser. She opened the back door, and placed her hand on the back of Geoff’s head, folding him in.

“Dad!” Noah yelled out of the window he’d wound down. “Uncle Geoff—where are they taking Uncle Geoff?”

“It’s okay, Noah,” Blake called, making his way back to the truck. “Geoff’s just going to help the police sort out some confusion. It’s going to be fine.”

Meg made to join them, but Kovacs held her back, placing his hand on her forearm. She glared at him, then his hand. Slowly, he removed it.

“What was in those file boxes on the table last night?” he said.

She glowered at him.

“Look, you’re reading me wrong, Megan. I want answers to this thing, too, now. And I want them fast.”

“Because otherwise it will mess with your campaign?”

“Like I said, don’t get me wrong. I’m a cop. I’m a good cop. Something is off here. If it ties back to Sherry’s case, I want to know about it.”

“You’d reopen the case?”

Something flickered through his eyes, but they remained mostly hidden under the brim of his Stetson. “You’re implying there’s reason to reopen it?”

She swallowed. “I’m saying things might not be what they seemed.”

“Because of what was in those files.”

She said nothing.

“If there’s something in there that—”

She took a step closer to him. “I’ll tell you what,” she said quietly, her eyes locked on his. “You get me an interview, on the record, with your father, and you can sit in and hear exactly what is in those files.”

His mouth firmed into a grim line. She turned and marched back to the truck, climbed in, her heart thumping.

Noah got out of the truck, shouldered his backpack, and made for the school entrance. Meg watched him. He walked slowly. He walked alone. Others running and laughing around him. Small for his age. Delicate and pale against some of the other wild-haired boys who bounced around like big and boisterous puppies.

“What’s going on with Geoff?” she said quietly to Blake, now that Noah was out of the truck.

“I’m not sure.”

She glanced at him. “Why was he out last night?”

“You heard as much as I did—he’s got his own dragons to slay here, Meg.”

“Why now?”

The heat of irritation darted through his eyes. “I told you—he’s getting married. He wanted to deliver the news in person. While he’s here he’s dealing with his own past.”

“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

He caught her eyes. “Nothing that isn’t personal between me and
Geoff.” He reached down, put the truck in gear. An uneasy feeling sank into her stomach. Blake erected subtle walls when it came to his brother. It made her realize just how much she wanted to trust him. Wholly. It worried her that she didn’t. What ate even deeper was Geoff. It was strange seeing him again. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him—she’d always been fond of Geoff. But something felt off in her gut when she met his eyes, and she couldn’t quite articulate it.