Love Inspired Suspense December 2015, Box Set 2 of 2 (6 page)

He glared at her. “I know what you're doing.”

She batted her eyelashes. “What am I doing?”

“Challenging me. You know how I am. We'll both go to church tomorrow. Then you and I can go see Randall with the photos.”

“He might not be working on Sunday.”

“Then we'll go to his house. If someone's after those pictures, you giving them to the police ends the threat on your life. In fact, we should go right now.”

“But there's nothing suspicious on those photos, and no one knows I have them. After the horrible day I've had, all I want is to go to bed early.”

“Maybe there is and we can't see it, or maybe the arsonists thought there was more than what was in the darkroom. You said that Betty takes tons of pictures to get the right one she wants to use.”

“I've convinced Lawrence to stay here tonight, too,” her aunt announced from the entrance into the kitchen. “I don't like the idea of him being alone with all that's going on.”

Lawrence snorted behind her. “I know how to take care of myself. I have for seventy-three years.”

Aunt Linda shot him a glare. “I think we should stick together until the police find who murdered Betty and torched her house.”

Jake came up and laid his hands on Rachel's shoulders, then he leaned close to her ear. “I think your aunt has a thing for my grandfather, too.” His chuckles slid deliciously down her spine.

Rachel was beginning to wonder if she had
a thing
for Jake.

* * *

Monday morning Jake drove into town with Rachel. “You have some time to grab a cup of coffee at the general store? I could use another one before I meet Randall at Betty's house.”

“That sounds good. This was one weekend I didn't rest. I'm more exhausted this morning than I was Friday when I left work.”

“Nearly dying can do that to a person.” He slanted a look at her. “Take it from me.”

“I still wish you'd let your grandfather call me in August. Finding out after you were out of danger robbed me of praying for you when you needed it the most.”

“I was in a dark place. I thought I'd lost Mitch and might not walk again. I had no words for anyone.” Jake pulled into a parking spot in front of the store, remembering the last time he was here and his tires were slashed.

After they purchased their coffees at the counter, Jake found a table, one of the last in the crowded café, and sat with his back to the wall. “If I see anyone I recognize was here on Saturday morning, I'll tell you. I knew the town had grown, but there are a lot of people I don't know. I discovered that yesterday at church.”

“I've been here the whole time, and I feel that way sometimes. In the summer the tourist season nearly doubles the town's population, and there are more fishing boats going out then, too.”

Jake sipped his coffee. “I'm meeting Sean for lunch at the harbor restaurant. I hope to find out what Betty was like the few days before she was murdered.”

“I'm going to see Tom on the Blue Runner. I know he's been told about Aunt Betty over the radio, but that's no way to learn about it. All he knows is she's dead. Since Chief Quay is letting me give him the photo she took of his boat, I thought I would also use the time to make sure he's all right and see if she said anything to him that concerned her.”

“What time are you meeting him?”

“He'll unload his catch, then be in his slip around twelve.”

“I can't be there, but hearing the details of what happened to Betty is better coming from you than a police officer.” He covered her hand on the table. “Remember, leave the detecting to me or Randall. Tell him about Betty but no snooping.”

“He's one of the people we know didn't kill Aunt Betty. He was at sea with his crew.”

“True, but he could have hired someone.”

“Do you always think that way?”

“I look at all the angles. I've seen a lot of stuff that people do to each other, even ones who are supposed to be in love.”

Rachel shook her head. “I've seen how Tom was with Aunt Betty. He cherished her.”

“I've broken up many couples who supposedly loved each other.” After his own experience and some of the people he encountered as a police officer, he didn't know if love between a man and woman really existed. “Can you get me the names of the boats and crews not in harbor? That should help us eliminate them or at least move them to the bottom of the list of suspects.”

“Yes. I know some because I deliver their paychecks on Fridays. I'll make a list, then you should get with Charlie, the harbormaster, to make sure I have everyone.”

“So Charlie Moore is doing that job now. If anyone knows who was there or not, it would be him.”

“He may have a bum leg that keeps him from working on a trawler, but he gets around and keeps an eye on all the boats. You should see him in the summer. He seems to always be around in the daylight, which means he puts in a lot of hours.”

“Does he get any rest in the winter?”

“You'd think.” Rachel chuckled. “I guess he does, but he still knows what's going on.”

“I'll have to stop by and talk to Charlie myself.” Jake caught sight of a familiar face. “The big guy coming into the store. Who is he? He was here on Saturday.”

Rachel scanned the people coming inside. “That's Beau Cohen. He works on the Tundra King. They're going out in a few hours. His brother, Kirk, is the captain.”

“Ah, a crewman from one of the boats in the photos. Who is he talking to?”

“Ingrid. I'm surprised she isn't at work by now. She works in the processing center. So many of the people new to Port Aurora are connected to the fishery. At least I know their names and most of their faces.”

“When do you think the memorial service will be held for Betty?”

“Now that Brad has offered the large hall in the fishery, Aunt Linda told me she and the pastor were planning it for Wednesday late afternoon. Then later is the Christmas tree lighting at the harbor. Aunt Betty always loved that, and Aunt Linda thought that would be a nice way to end the service. Most of the boats will be in harbor, and many of the crew members knew Aunt Betty. She worked at the fishery for years.”

“Since when does the fishery have a large hall?”

“It's temporary until the spring when the processing plant will be expanded, which means more workers. That's the last part of the expansion. It should be up and running by June.” Rachel glanced at her watch. “Oh, no. I'm going to be late.”

“If I don't see you, when do you want me to pick you up?”

“Five.”

“I'll be at your office then.”

“I can meet you outside.” She rose.

“I'd like to see where you work.” Jake started to get up, but Rachel waved him down.

“I only have to go a block. I think I can do that. Enjoy the warmth and the coffee. See you later.”

As she left the store, stopping several times to speak to someone, Jake realized he'd missed her. It hadn't taken long for them to get back into the groove of sharing and talking. He had friends in Anchorage, but no one like Rachel. She was special. In all the years he'd known her, she'd always been there for him. What would have happened if he hadn't left Port Aurora eight years ago?

He'd thought being in Anchorage would be the change of pace he needed to get over Celeste. But now he was back because he'd needed the quiet of the town—and if he was honest with himself, Rachel. She'd always had a way of helping him to see things in a clearer light.

He sighed and headed for the counter to get a cup of coffee to go. When he pulled in to Betty's driveway later, he saw the fire captain shake hands with Randall, then walk to his vehicle. From the grim lines on both men's faces, Jake knew the verdict was arson, which didn't surprise him at all. He finished the last few sips of his coffee, then climbed from the SUV and strode toward the burned remains of the cabin, the scent of charred wood filling his nostrils.

“Captain found three places where an accelerant was used to start the fire. By the front door and window, on one side by the kitchen window and by the back door. It's obvious they didn't want anyone getting out.” Randall pointed toward the first area.

“Yeah, I agree. The bedroom windows would have been impossible, and the bathroom one was iffy. I think when they searched the place the day before they either found some of what they wanted or nothing and decided to come back the next morning and burn it to destroy whatever was inside. Did the captain okay the site to be examined?”

“Yes. In this weather, it doesn't take long for the ashes to cool. I've walked the perimeter and seen little evidence that anything survived. I especially looked at the place where Betty's cubbyhole would have been.”

Jake walked toward the crime scene. “I agree, but I still would like to see if anything that looked like a camera was in the darkroom area. It might not have been in its usual place on the hook.”

“Or the killers took it the day before. I have to meet with the mayor. If you find anything, let me know. So you really think Betty stumbled across something and took pictures of it? I don't see anything on the photos I looked at yesterday.”

“Honestly, I don't know what to think, but if it had been a robbery gone bad, why would they come back the next day to burn the cabin? They knew someone was inside because Rachel's Jeep was out front.”

“I agree.” Randall started for his cruiser. “I appreciate any help you can give me. As I mentioned, we're an officer short and will be through Christmas.”

As the police chief drove away, Jake carefully picked his way through the burned rubble to the place where he estimated the darkroom had been. After sifting through the remains in a ten-foot radius, he straightened and stretched to work the kinks out of his muscles from bending and squatting. He found nothing but the overpowering scent of charred wood.

The hairs on the nape of his neck tingled. He rotated in a full circle, searching the woods that edged Betty's property. A movement in the midst of the spruce trees riveted his attention. He started for the woods, glad he had brought his Glock. Suddenly, the sound of an ATV filled the quiet. Knowing he couldn't outrun a vehicle, he stopped and studied the trees. Nothing. Had someone been watching him?

CHAPTER SIX

“I
'll see you at the memorial service on Wednesday.” Rachel waved goodbye to Charlie at the harbormaster's office and stepped outside into the bright sunlight.

Although a chilly wind blew off the water, the rays warmed her. She paused at the railing and scanned the various sizes of boats in port. Spying the Blue Runner tying up to its slip, she strolled toward the trawler. She was not looking forward to talking to Tom Payne. She'd gone over what she was going to say, only to discard it. Tom had made no bones that he loved Aunt Betty, whereas she wasn't eager to marry again. Rachel certainly understood not wanting to marry after having an abusive husband. She didn't want to marry after seeing her mother go from one husband to the next, as though she were sampling an array. She'd seen few examples of a loving marriage.

As she neared the Blue Runner slip, she felt eyes boring into her. She looked around, her gaze skipping from one boat to the next. Finally, it lit upon the Tundra King maneuvering out of the harbor. On the deck she caught sight of Beau dressed in the common yellow outerwear that protected fishermen from the bitter cold wind and water. He brought the binoculars he'd been using down to his side, but she still felt the singe of his perusal. She shuddered.

Rachel shook off her apprehension about Beau. He'd once asked her out on a date, and she had turned him down. Ever since then, he'd been standoffish and almost hostile, which only confirmed he wasn't the type of man she wanted to go out with. She rarely dated, even though there were over twice as many men in Port Aurora as women, but if she did, it wouldn't be someone like Beau.

She stepped down onto the Blue Runner and called out, “Captain Payne?”

A tall man with bright red hair poked his head out the back door into the cabin. “Good to see you, Rachel. If you hadn't been here, I was going to find you at your office. Come in. While the men are finishing up, let's talk in the wheelhouse. It'll be quiet there.”

When she entered, Tom's stoic expression evolved into a look of sorrow. “I almost came in early, but that wouldn't be right for the crew. They count on the money they get, and that depends on the catch.” He indicated the captain's chair. “Take a seat. I'm too agitated to stay still. What happened to Betty? She was fine on Wednesday when I left.”

As Tom paced the length of the wheelhouse and back, Rachel told him about Friday and finding Aunt Betty's body in the woods. “The police are investigating it as a murder. What you might not know is that the next day someone set fire to her cabin. Aunt Linda and I were over at her place trying to straighten it.”

“Yeah, Betty...” His voice faded, and he swallowed hard several times. “She would have hated the mess.” He stopped at the front window and stared outside. “What I don't understand is why anyone would kill one of the sweetest women in Port Aurora.”

“I agree. We don't understand why, either. Earlier that day she'd told me she needed to talk to me. She looked afraid. She'd wanted to talk to Jake, too. I tried to get her to tell me what was wrong when I saw her at the processing center after she left me a message on my phone, but she just said ‘later.' I figured she didn't want to talk until we were alone, so that was why I stopped by on the way home from work. Do you have an idea why she would put this photo—” she passed him the one of the Blue Runner “—along with photos of the Tundra King and Alaskan King and a storage area in the shipping warehouse in her hiding place, or why she would be afraid?”

He shook his head, tears welling into his eyes. “I didn't know she had a hiding place. At the house?”

“Yes, in the kitchen, but the cabin was nearly burned to the ground.”

“Then how did you get this?”

“The police chief wanted to know what, if anything, was stolen. The TV and other items a robber might steal were still there. But we never found her camera. We checked the cubbyhole for the few pieces of jewelry that are worth something. They were there, along with these photos. We were in the process of examining the darkroom when I smelled smoke and discovered the fire in the living room and kitchen.”

“When I left last Wednesday, she was excited. She was starting to work on her photos of the harbor, the boats and the fishery. She'd had pictures of the fishery before the expansion, and she wanted some after.”

“So she wasn't upset?”

He plowed his fingers through his red hair, then massaged his nape. “No, the opposite. She said she would have some to show me when I returned.” He blinked, and a tear rolled down his tan cheek.

Rachel gestured toward the photo he still held. “Chief Quay said you could keep that. He made a copy of it, but he didn't see how it was tied to her murder.”

“I remember when she took it. She'd been on the boat and had left to go back to work. She shared her lunch with me on...” He closed his eyes. “I'm sorry. I need time alone.”

Rachel stood and gave Tom a hug. “I understand. If you remember anything that might have upset her on Friday, please let me know.”

“I will,” he said in a thick voice.

“I can find my own way out.”

“Thanks for giving me this photo.” His chest rose and fell as he expelled a long breath.

Rachel climbed onto the dock and started back toward the fishery headquarters. She still had a lot of work to do this afternoon before Jake picked her up. She needed to catch up on the paperwork that was put on hold because of last Friday's payroll, especially since she would be taking off half a day on Wednesday to help set up Aunt Betty's memorial service.

When she entered the building, Brad walked into the lobby with his wife, Celeste. Rachel greeted them. She received a cool reception from Celeste, but Brad was always polite and gentlemanly. She wondered if Celeste ever felt bad about how she'd treated Jake. Calling off an engagement in front of half the town wasn't the best way to do it.

“Rachel, wait a sec,” Brad said as he opened the front door for Celeste and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. When his wife left, he turned toward Rachel. “What can I do for the memorial service?”

“You've already done it by letting us use the hall. It will hold twice what the church will.”

“Did you talk with Tom yet?”

“Yes, and he didn't take it well.”

“I'm not surprised. He proposed to Betty the weekend before last.” Only five feet eight inches, Brad always seemed taller by the way he carried himself, but at the moment his shoulders were hunched. “I didn't think Tom would ever marry.”

“The same with Aunt Betty. She never said anything about the proposal.”

“She told Tom she had to think about it. She was going to give him her answer when he returned from this last fishing trip.” Brad began strolling down the main hall toward his office.

“Oh,” was all Rachel could think to say. Why didn't Aunt Betty say anything to her and Aunt Linda? Most unusual. Was that what Aunt Betty wanted to talk to her about on Friday? Then why did she want to talk to Jake, too?

“Tell Linda I can contribute money for the food, whatever she needs.”

“I will. Thanks.” Rachel rounded the corner and hurried toward her office at the back of the building.

Once there, she started working her way through the pile of papers on her desk while she ate her sandwich. The hours flew by and before she knew it, Jake stood in her doorway, watching her, with Mitch on a leash next to him.

“It's five already?” She glanced behind her at the dark landscape out the window.

“Afraid so. I can wait a while in the lobby if you want.” Jake moved to her desk. “I brought Mitch. He wanted to get out of the house.”

“Oh, he told you that?”

“Yes, he did. He brought me his leash.”

Rachel laughed. “I like a dog that knows his own mind.” She reached toward the German shepherd and began to rub his head.

Mitch stepped back and sniffed her hand, then sat and barked twice.

Not sure what just happened, Rachel glanced toward Jake. His frown unnerved her. “What's wrong with him?”

“That's his signal when he smells illegal drugs.”

“On me?” Rachel stared at the hand Mitch smelled. “I haven't been handling any drugs. Just papers all afternoon.”

“What kind of papers?”

“Lists from each boat of the crewmen and hours they worked. Also shipping notices and orders. The typical paperwork that needs to be put in the books.”

“Where are they?”

Rachel waved to a foot-tall stack on the table behind her.

“Step out in the hall and let me see what has triggered his response.”

Rachel moved to the corridor and leaned against the wall while Jake released Mitch by the entrance and commanded him to find the drugs. Starting on his right, the German shepherd sniffed around the room until he came to the pile of paper she'd been recording. He sat and barked again.

When Rachel came back into her office, she asked, “Could this be what Aunt Betty found out?”

“Possibly. Can you take this stack home with you without being detected? Then I can spread them out and see which sheets have the strongest scent on them.”

“Yes, but I shuffled them into different piles before putting them in that stack. If it could transfer to my hands, then why not to other pieces of paper?”

“It could. But maybe I can narrow it down some. If I take Mitch through all the boats and the fishery, we could scare off whoever is handling drugs. It could be something as simple as a worker dealing or taking drugs or a bigger problem than that.”

Rachel grabbed a canvas bag and stuffed the papers into it. “Bigger problem?”

“That the fishery is being used by someone to smuggle drugs.”

“I've worked with most of these people for years. Your grandfather worked for the company up until five years ago. I...” What happened to Aunt Betty made more sense if large amounts of money were involved.

“As a police officer I've seen a lot of illegal drugs on the streets. It's a big business.”

Rachel stared down at her hands. “I hope I can get this smell off me.” She wondered how many times in the past she'd handled something that had the same scent. She grabbed her coat and purse. “Let's go.”

“We can't tell anyone about this except Linda and Gramps.”

“Not the police?”

A hard edge entered his blue eyes, darkened to a stormy sea color. “No, not even the chief, at least for the time being. If I could keep this from Linda and Gramps, I would, but I don't see how we can since they are already involved with Betty's murder. Not much gets past my grandfather.”

“Nor my aunt. She'll probably be wondering why I'm scrubbing my hands over and over.”

“Not much gets past a dog. One trained to smell blood can find where a drop of blood has been cleaned up.”

“That's amazing.”

“K-9s are being used more and more for various jobs. Their sense of smell is much keener than ours.” Jake held the door open for Rachel.

When she stepped outside into the dark of night, the lights from the harbor and the fishery taunted her. How pervasive was this problem in Port Aurora? Now murder and drugs? What was happening in her small, peaceful hometown?

* * *

That night Jake stood outside while Mitch sniffed around. The air was crisp and cold, but clear, too. The silence surrounding Jake helped him to relax after a day spent running down leads that hadn't gone anywhere. He'd searched the woods by Betty's cabin and sure enough there were ATV tracks coming from the main road and going back that way. Someone had been in the trees watching. A curious person or one involved with what happened to Betty?

He heard the door open and glanced back. Rachel came outside, carrying two mugs. The colored lights from the Christmas tree and on the house reflected on the snow and bathed her in their glow.

She gave him a cup. “Hot chocolate with one big marshmallow.”

“You remembered?”

“Of course. In the cold months that was our drink.” They used to do almost everything together—until Celeste came along and he thought he could have it all. The woman. Marriage. The career he wanted. Why hadn't he seen through Celeste's charade? Now he didn't know what he wanted.

Rachel took a sip of her drink, ending up with marshmallow on her upper lip. “Do I have a mustache?”

“Yes, and that hasn't changed, either.”

“It's because I like three marshmallows in my hot chocolate.” She licked her tongue over the area. “Did I get it all?”

“Yes, but you might as well wait until you're finished with your drink.”

“Good advice as always.” She released a long sigh and stared up at the sky. “It's gorgeous. Not a cloud around and a million stars.”

“I forget how clear the view is away from the city.”

“I should have turned off the Christmas lights. It would have been perfect.”

“Nah. I like them. They're welcoming.”

She angled toward him. “I thought you were going to tell Aunt Linda and Lawrence about the drugs.”

“Since they both were exhausted with planning the memorial service and went to bed, I think we can get away with them not knowing anything until we know more.”

“That sounds fine. How long is Mitch going to take?”

“He finished five minutes ago. I just like the quiet.”

“And I came out and ruined it.”

“No, you came out and joined me. We're sharing the stars.” That thought eased the tension thinking about Celeste had caused. In the years he'd been gone, he'd been sure he had dealt with the betrayal and the bitterness his relationship with Celeste had produced. Was Rachel right? Was he not over her? No, when he saw Celeste, he'd felt nothing.

He slung his arm over Rachel's shoulder and looked again at the black sky overhead. Their closeness brought back fond memories, something he'd needed after the past months. Peace wove its way through him, and he didn't want this moment to end. Rachel snuggled closer, sending his pulse zipping through him.