by Dani Pettrey
“Someone with knowledge only a climber would have is responsible for Conrad’s death.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then look at his climbing buddy from Anchorage, not your friends.”
It’d been years since she and Brody had been friends, and that point was moot. Someone with access to Conrad’s chalk had killed him. It was her and Jake’s job to find that person, regardless of any ties she may have to them.
“You’re being ridiculous, and you might want to consider that you’re only making yourself look guiltier.”
“Guiltier?” His voice rose. “So you really think I played a role in Conrad’s death?”
A murmur spread through the patrons, looks of disgust on climbers’ faces.
“I’m not saying that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“That if you’re innocent, you sure aren’t doing anything to help yourself.”
“See,” Brody said, addressing the crowd. “I told you she thinks one of us killed Conrad.”
Jake stood behind Kayden, his hand now poised on her back as she continued. “It’s almost a sure thing that someone with climbing knowledge killed Conrad. If you’d just cooperate, we could find his killer a lot faster.”
Brody strode toward her and stopped just short of being in her face.
Jake stiffened behind her—his hand taut against her back.
Brody leaned in. “Go. Home.”
She squared her shoulders. “I will—when we’ve caught Conrad’s killer.”
“You’re no longer welcome here.”
“Too bad, because I’m not going anywhere.”
Brody glanced over at his buddies in the booth, chuckling.
Dinner had been tense, but Jake and Kayden had refused to leave the Roost until they’d eaten. Actually, tense fell short of describing the atmosphere, but Brody’s intimidation seemed only to fuel Kayden’s determination to find Conrad’s killer.
Jake watched her hair flutter in the cool night breeze as they made their way down the pier to her Cessna floatplane. It’d been a long day, and he was ready to have Kayden out of Imnek for a while.
She moved to the front of the plane to start her preflight inspection but stopped short. “Real classy, Brody.”
“What?” Jake stepped around to her side, and Kayden held up her flashlight in the dimming night sky—the light resting on indentations marring her props. Someone had taken a baseball bat or other heavy blunt instrument to the propeller.
“Great.” She sighed. “Looks like we won’t be leaving tonight.”
“Someone did what to your plane?” Landon asked over the speakerphone.
Thanks to Imnek’s sheriff, Jacob Marshall, Kayden and Jake had use of one of the deputy offices while they were stranded on the island.
They wouldn’t be able to locate new props until morning, so they’d definitely be spending the night.
“Someone took a bat or something like it to the props,” Jake said, standing to Kayden’s right.
“Who do you think did it?”
“My guess is Brody and his buddies,” she said, irritation flaring through her. She couldn’t believe they’d messed with her plane.
“Brody Patterson?” Landon said, recognition in his tone.
“One and the same. He wasn’t real keen on the questions we were asking.”
“We got some backlash at the diner where the climbers hang out,” Jake added.
“The Roost?” Landon asked.
Kayden smiled. “You got it.”
“Can the props be repaired?”
“Not a chance. We’ll have to arrange for new ones in the morning.”
“And in the meantime?”
“We’ll get a couple rooms at the hotel downtown. It’ll actually save us a trip back over here tomorrow to speak with Patty Tate.”
Kayden hated to miss out on the last-minute preparations for Cole and Bailey’s wedding, but there were plenty of helpers to fill in, and it was important they keep at the case. The sooner they solved Conrad’s murder, the better.
“So what are you guys thinking?”
“Though the circumstantial evidence surrounding him doesn’t look good, I’d be surprised if Stuart Anderson turns out to be our man,” Jake said, leaning against the file cabinet, his arms crossed, a smattering of whiskers covering his cheeks and jawline.
Her dad had always had the same five o’clock shadow. If he were still around, he’d like Jake. The two had more in common than she’d let herself realize—reserved, understated, intelligent, patient, more at home outdoors than indoors.
“Care to elaborate?” Landon asked.
“He’s too preoccupied with himself, too impulsive, to pull off something like this by himself,” Jake said.
“Kayden, what about you?”
“I agree with Jake. I don’t see Stuart masterminding this. I’d put my money on the wife.” Kayden rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tightness. “She would need help with the chalk, though, so I suppose that might bring us back to Stuart.”
“Tell me about her.”
“She’s smart, savvy, shrewd.”
“To a point,” Jake said. “She says she didn’t know her husband had been having an affair for years.”
“That’s right. Vivienne’s surprise over the duration of the affair seemed quite genuine. Perhaps she knew he’d been fooling around but didn’t realize it’d been with the same woman for the entire time.”
“So you think the wife and Stuart Anderson may be working together?” Landon asked.
“I definitely have my suspicions on that count,” Jake said. “It seems pretty clear the two are more than friends.”
“You think they’re having an affair?”
“It sure seemed that way,” Kayden said. “If not, they’ve got a very peculiar friendship.”
“Interesting.” Landon’s voice garbled momentarily on the other end. “If that’s the case, the pertinent question may be which affair started first.”
“We can ask around tomorrow. See if we can get a more concrete timeline nailed down.” Jake stepped from the cabinet, moving toward the back of her chair.
She struggled to keep her attention on the conversation, but her focus shifted to Jake’s presence behind her. She wasn’t willing to give in to it, but his nearness caused an undeniable pull.
“Let’s run through tomorrow’s agenda.”
Jake went through the list of people they’d be visiting—Patty Tate, Natalie Adams, and Brody. Without any hard evidence of his involvement in the vandalism of her plane, he’d get away with it, and she hated the injustice.
“I’ll get you that warrant as soon as possible,” Landon said. “Sheriff Marshall is connecting me with an Imnek judge in the morning. We’ll see if we can’t expedite things and get you a look at Brody’s books.”
“Thanks,” Jake said.
“You two did a great job today. Now, get some rest.”
Kayden nodded. Rest sounded very good.
Something was rattling. What was Piper up to now? Kayden rolled over, covering her head with a pillow.
The noise shifted to hissing.
Go to sleep, Piper. We need . . .
We. That’s right. She was in Imnek, with Jake. He was in the hotel room across the hall. She wasn’t home. . . . So who was making noise outside her room?
She opened her eyes and cast the pillow aside. 5:11 a.m. Too early for maid service.
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up. Listened. There it was again. Hissing.
Slipping off the covers, she padded to the door and peeked out the peephole. Empty.
She glanced to the sliding door. The hissing had stopped, but she thought it had been coming from that direction.
Grasping ahold of the curtain, she peeled it open . . . and stumbled back.
You’re both dead. You just don’t know it yet.
The words were scrolled across the sliding glass door i
n red spray paint, dripping letters reminding her, eerily, of blood.
Brody had gone too far.
11
A knock rapped on Jake’s door. He rolled over, looking at the clock. 5:20 a.m. Another knock, followed by Kayden’s voice.
“Jake, open up. It’s me.”
Kayden?
He shot up in bed. “Coming.” He raced for the door. Kayden was an early riser, but not this early. If she was knocking on his door, something was wrong.
He yanked the door open to find her in her PJs. A lilac tank top and pastel polka-dot bottoms. Probably not her first choice in nightwear, but they hadn’t planned an overnighter, so she’d had to pick up something at a local store. Maybe they didn’t have a large selection, but to be honest, he liked the soft colors on her. She looked beautiful but shaken.
She stared at him, her gaze lingering on his bare chest and then shifting to his face. She blinked, a soft flush creeping up her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” she swallowed. “Oh. Right. Brody and his crew of miscreants left a message for us.”
He should have known. The level of their antagonism and bravado at the Roost signaled something more was coming.
“Where?”
“My room.”
“Let me grab a shirt.”
Pink flushed her cheeks once more. Was Kayden McKenna actually blushing? And was it truly because of him?
He fought the smile tugging at his lips and slipped into his navy T-shirt.
Following her back to her room, he noticed her tight shoulders. Whatever message Brody left, it had jolted her.
Obviously he hadn’t been clear enough in signaling his protection of Kayden—hadn’t conveyed the depth he’d go to to keep her safe. He’d have to pay Brody another clear and profound visit. When it came to Kayden McKenna, Brody would back away or face Jake’s wrath.
Kayden stepped to the sliding door and pulled back the curtain to reveal words scrawled in red.
You’re both dead. You just don’t know it yet.
She’d taken time to close the curtain. Brody’s threat had really gotten to her.
“It’s time I had a one-on-one with Brody.”
Sheriff Marshall accompanied Kayden and Jake to Brody’s gym after visiting his home and learning from his girlfriend that he’d already headed to the gym for a preopening climb with some friends.
The girlfriend seemed rattled by their appearance at her door so early in the morning but not entirely surprised. Had Brody warned her they’d be coming?
They entered the gym to find Brody, Jason Gellar, and Natalie Adams, of all people, climbing—along with a young man Jake didn’t know.
“Well, that’s an interesting turn of events,” Kayden said with a smile.
Jake rocked back on his heels. “Very interesting, indeed.” And definitely not in line with the picture Natalie had painted of Brody firing her. For ex-boss and employee, the two seemed quite jovial and cozy climbing side by side.
Sheriff Marshall stepped forward. “Brody, we need you to come down. You’ve got some questions to answer.”
Brody looked down, the creases on his face tight. “You brought the sheriff?” He glared at Kayden.
“What’d you expect after you vandalized my plane and threatened our lives?”
“I never threatened you.”
“The graffiti on my hotel door says differently.”
Brody frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Jake slid his hands in his pockets. The man was good at feigning innocence—he’d give him that much.
Brody worked his way down the wall with grunts of irritation. “This is ridiculous.”
“Your behavior is ridiculous,” Kayden countered.
He stepped to her. “I could say the same about yours.”
Her gaze shifted to Natalie descending the wall. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
Natalie jumped the final few feet to the floor and brushed the chalk from her hands. “Just getting in an early-morning climb.”
“It’s interesting seeing you here before hours, climbing with Brody, especially after he fired you.”
“Fired?” Brody laughed. “You told them I fired you?”
Natalie planted her hands on her hips, white palm prints distinct against her black yoga pants. “You let me go right after I started selling climbing supplies. What else would you call it?”
“Our business took a dip, and I had to cut back on instructors.”
“So I lost my spot?”
“You have another means of regular income. My other instructors don’t. Teaching is their only income other than winnings from events, which we both know doesn’t make for reliable income.”
“So you weren’t mad at me for carrying climbing supplies?”
“I wasn’t thrilled. It’s cost me some business, but I didn’t let you go because of it. Come on, Nat, if I was mad at you, you’d know it.”
Natalie blew a stray hair from her face. “Huh.”
“Now that you two are all buddy-buddy again,” Jake said, “let’s address last night’s vandalism of Kayden’s plane and, more importantly, the threat.”
“What threat?” Brody shrugged his arms. “All I said was she wasn’t welcome anymore. That’s a fact, not a threat.”
“We’re talking about the message you spray-painted on my hotel room door,” Kayden said.
Brody stared at her with what appeared to be genuine surprise. If it wasn’t Brody, then who had left the creepy message? Uneasiness rattled through Jake.
“‘You’re both dead. You just don’t know it yet.’” Kayden cringed a bit as she repeated the threat.
“What?” Brody burst out laughing. “Seriously? You think I’d do that? Come on.”
Kayden rested her hands on her hips, her shoulders squared. “I suppose you also didn’t bang up my propeller?”
Brody swallowed.
That is guilt, Jake noted. But he’d shown none over the spray-painted message. Had that been someone else?
“Look . . .” Brody raked a hand through his cropped hair. “I was at work yesterday until six, and then I was at the Roost. The boys can vouch for me.”
The same boys who’d probably helped him damage Kayden’s props, so in other words, they’d lie for him about his whereabouts.
“And at five this morning?” Kayden pressed, her ire fully riled.
“I was in bed, with my girlfriend.”
“And how do we know you didn’t sneak out and slip back in before she woke?”
“Ask Rachel. Her alarm goes off every morning at five, and she hits the stupid Snooze button for a good forty-five minutes. Trust me, she’d notice if I wasn’t there.”
Jake looked at Kayden. If Brody’s girlfriend confirmed his alibi and no other physical evidence surfaced, they couldn’t touch him.
Kayden slammed the rental-car door after speaking with Brody’s girlfriend, Rachel. “Of course she’d confirm his alibi.” Frustration seared inside, making her restless and agitated. He was going to get away with his bullying.
Jake rested his hand on the open car door. “For what it’s worth, she didn’t appear to be lying.”
“What are you saying?” He didn’t believe Brody, did he?
“That I don’t think Brody is responsible for the graffiti.”
That hit her like a ton of bricks. “What? If not Brody, then who?”
“One of Brody’s friends or the killer.”
“And you don’t think Brody’s the killer?”
“Do you? Deep down, do you really think Brody’s capable of murder?”
She pondered that. It’d been years since they’d been close, and Brody’s reaction had raised questions in her mind, but deep down she couldn’t see him killing someone. But that wasn’t her area of expertise—it was Jake’s. “I don’t know. It would surprise me, but I’ve been surprised before.”
“Trust me, I hear you.” He exhaled. “But think about it. Nothing
would please Conrad’s killer more than to get us running around trying to catch whoever caused the vandalism rather than working on Conrad’s case.
“I think Brody and his buddies are definitely to blame for the damage to your props, but the graffiti . . . When you called Brody on it, he truly appeared to be shocked. I don’t think he did it. I think the killer did it to keep us focused on Brody—knowing we’d go right to him.”
“So the killer is close by. Close enough to see what’s happening with Brody.”
“It’s a small island. It wouldn’t be hard to keep tabs on things.”
She sighed with frustration. “So what now?”
“We work the case. We head over to Natalie’s shop and confirm exactly when Conrad purchased the chalk.”
Kayden shook her head. “I can’t believe Brody still won’t let us look at his books without a warrant. What a loser.”
“We’ve called him out more than once in front of his peers. Refusing to let us take a look makes it feel as if he still has some measure of control. Plus, he just wants to give us a hard time, make our job more difficult.”
“It’s only going to work until the warrant comes through.”
“Sheriff Marshall assured me we’d have the warrant before the day is out. It’s only a matter of time before we get a look at the gym’s time logs.”
“That will make Brody even more fun to deal with.”
“Good. Then maybe he’ll lash out again. And this time we can catch him in the act.”
“How?” They couldn’t prove he’d been involved with either case of vandalism thus far. How would they be able to catch him in the act the next time?
“Sheriff Marshall has a deputy watching him. If Brody does anything to scare us off, he’ll be caught red-handed.”
“Nice.” She couldn’t wait to see the look on Brody’s smug face when that happened. She’d thought she knew him, and he’d turned out to be a totally different person than she’d remembered. Had he changed so drastically, or had she never really known him at all?
She took a moment to study Jake. For years she’d thought she had him pegged, and she’d been dead wrong. There was no bravado with Jake—just skill and humble mastery. She respected his strength, and not just bodily strength, though seeing the defined muscles of his torso, his sculpted stomach and arms . . . Her heart had definitely skipped a beat. Hers. Who would have ever thought?
