Cabin 1

by Amanda McKinney

  “Will you pull my Jeep out? My phone, purse, everything’s still in there, hopefully, anyway.”

  “We’ll take care of it. But not before the police have done whatever they need to do.”

  She nodded, then looked back and forth between me and Ax. I expected the usual “are you twins” question, instead I got—

  “What is this place?”

  “Steele Shadows Security.”

  Her beautiful dark eyes rounded. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.” I wasn’t sure whether to be complimented or wary.

  “I’ve heard of you guys, or your company, anyway. You have offices all over the country. You do presidential detail, don’t you?”

  “We provide personal security to anyone who needs it. Twenty-four hours, seven days a week.”

  Her gaze scanned my body from head to toe, sending a squeeze between my legs.

  “You’re former military, aren’t you?”

  “You’re observant, aren’t you?”

  She snorted and looked down. “I used to think so.”

  “Hey,” Ax and I both said simultaneously, a talent we’d had since breath one.

  “You did not cause this.” My jaw clenched with frustration. One of the biggest hurdles we faced with sexual assault or domestic abuse cases was the victim blaming herself, or himself, for that matter. Although my immediate reaction was to slap some sense into the client, the training that our Dad forced us to take when he started the company—emotional intelligence or some shit—had me biting my tongue, and Ax, too.

  She looked up and watched us closely, waiting for that pep talk we were supposed to be providing.

  Well, she was in the wrong place for that.

  I switched back to the original subject, and began to do what I did best. Lay out a plan of attack. “So, you came to the right place. First, you’ll give your statement to BSPD, then we’ll get your Jeep out once they release the scene…”

  Ax’s phone dinged. “Officer Haddix is here.”

  “The new guy?”

  He nodded. “He’s been with BSPD a few months now, I guess. Met him at Frank’s a few times.”

  I glanced out the window, the night an inky black. “That was quick.”

  “Said he was a responding to a trespassing call.”

  My eyebrows raised. “Trespassing, huh? Where, exactly?”

  “Old man Erickson’s land.”

  I snorted. “That man reports trespassers once a week. Never caught a single soul on his land. Did Haddix see anyone?”

  “Nope.”

  “See any vehicles?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “Yep.”

  “Maybe Erickson has some security cameras we can look at.”

  “Nope. His security is his arsenal of sawed-off shotguns.” A wicked grin crossed Ax’s face. “Trust me, I’ve come face to face with that system a few times.”

  “I have no doubt you have, Bora.”

  “Bora?”

  “The explorer.”

  “You mean Dora?”

  “Yeah, you know, that cartoon chick.”

  “What does that have to do with me being on Erikson’s land?”

  “Because you disappear into the woods for days like a damn nomad, you idiot.”

  A quizzical looked crossed my brother’s face. “… How the hell do you even know what Dora the Explorer is?”

  An impatient exhale escaped my lips. “Am I the only one who watches television around here?”

  “The pay-per-view.” Ax grinned.

  I glanced at Niki, whose eyebrow lifted.

  “The fights.” I grinned and shrugged, then turned back to Ax. “Anyway, Dora hikes and shit like that. You hike. It fit. Lay off me.”

  “At least I remember my hikes… and keep my pants up the whole time.”

  My grin deepened as I cut another glance at Niki, who was now officially avoiding eye contact.

  Just then, a flash of headlights flashed along the walls. My hand instinctively reached for the SIG on my hip as I watched the black and white pull up the drive. It had been awhile since I’d seen the police outside our house. Ax disappeared to let Haddix in and I turned to Niki, who was focused on the car out front, not on me, the only one left in the kitchen.

  “You ready?”

  Her gaze shifted to me, a look of pure steel. “Yes.” She said without hesitation, loud, strong, confident. My heart gave a kick.

  My head turned to footsteps ringing over the stone floor, Ax’s low, quick tone as he updated the officer on the mystery woman we’d found in the woods. I stepped a few inches behind Niki. I would have inched closer if not for the icy gaze I got from Feen as he passed by the window.

  Officer Haddix strolled into the kitchen, a six-foot, solid two-hundred pounds of muscle and tanned skin. I’d never met him. The man was bald, all shined up like a cue ball, but he looked to be only in his mid-thirties which meant he either had pre-mature balding or took a page right out of the ‘how to look like a beat cop’ handbook. A walking stereotype, my guess was Haddix was teased in high school, and therefore, committed his life to getting drunk on authority and pulling over the ‘popular kids’ that had once teased him. In an ironic twist of fate, those popular kids were now nothing more than rotting bones of opioids. Yes, a walking stereotype… or hell, maybe the guy just liked the bench press.

  He zeroed in on Niki, and I took a mental note of possessive rattle that flew over my bones. I wondered what the hell that was about. I hadn’t felt possessive over a woman since… ever. I needed to cool it.

  Remaining behind my client, I extended my hand and introduced myself. “Gage Steele, and this is Niki,” I said as if I owned her.

  His shake was quick with the aggressiveness of someone who needed to prove something, and enough pressure to let me know he didn’t care too much for me. A cop didn’t like me? Fucking shocker.

  “Lieutenant Colson is held up,” he said. “He’ll be out, but it’ll be awhile. I already stopped by the scene.” A glance to Niki confirmed it was as bad as she’d explained—most slit throats were—but he lingered, watching her closely for a second with a look I couldn’t quite read. Then, he said, “I’d like to get started while everything is fresh in your mind.”

  “I’m ready when you are.”

  Heart, another kick.

  Haddix nodded, then looked at me. “I’m going to need to ask you to step out.”

  “I’m going to need to ask you to remember who’s house you’re in.”

  “Listen, Mr. Steele, this is—”

  “My house.”

  “Please, guys.” Niki rolled her eyes. “Can we just get started?”

  Haddix held my gaze for a second, doing his best intimidation stare, then yanked a notebook and pen from his pocket. Ignoring me now, he started the questioning with all the typical introductory questions—what’s your name, birthday, the bullshit mandatory get-to-know-you questions. I noticed the guy watched her like a freaking hawk while she answered. It was as if he’d forgotten I was in the room. And I didn’t like that. I listened closely to Niki’s answers, too, although I already knew some it, and God help me, I wish to hell I hadn’t.

  Niki Avery had gone to Berry Springs school, as my brothers and I did. Despite the fact she was more than a few years younger than us, her life’s story had made it all the way up to my grade. Niki grew up poor. I mean, food-stamp, hand-me-down-clothes poor. Rumor was she grew up in the middle of nowhere without running water or electricity. Electricity, okay, but no running water? The thought was as foreign to me as not having television. Or, Dora, for that matter. That was enough to earn plenty of bullying and gossip in a small town like Berry Springs, but no, that wasn’t what sent her up the stratosphere. Niki Avery’s fate as forever unpopular was sealed in stone the day her dear daddy went nuts. Rumor was, the guy started his mental break by pawning the only thing worth a dime in their house—her grandmother’s wedding ring that had been passed down
generations. Son of a bitch then met his long-time mistress—a part-time cashier at the discount grocery store—at a seedy hotel on the outskirts of town, skipped out on that bill, then blew every penny in his wallet at the casino bar. Then decided to mug the Oakwood sisters, two eighty-something-year-old church-going widows. He capped off that genius move with a stop at the liquor store where he stole a six-pack of PBR and got into a fist fight with the part-time help. He was caught an hour later, walking butt-ass-naked down County Road 2332, whistling the theme from Andy Griffith. It didn’t stop there. Niki’s dad lied his way through the interviews blaming the government, global warming, and a group of random teenagers for the shit-show that was his afternoon. That erratic behavior earned him a visit to the local psych ward, where he remained on psychiatric hold for forty-eight hours. After that, he was tossed in the county jail before packing up and leaving town—and his family—for good. ‘Ol’ Loony Avery’ was the name he’d been given by the gossips. A nickname that didn’t settle well with his daughter, apparently. A week after the incident, Niki Avery got into a fistfight with three of her classmates for making fun of her dad. Rumor was, she kicked their asses, making her a target for the rest of her school career. Niki’s family was the laughing stock of the town for months. Her dad was a cheat, a liar, and a thief, and as I stared down at the back of Niki’s head, I couldn’t help but wonder if the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Maybe Niki was on a psychotic break like her dad had been.

  I’d heard stories of women crying sexual assault when it simply wasn’t true. They enjoyed the attention it brought them. Liked the pity, wore the title of victim proudly, as if it were a badge of honor.

  Was that Niki Avery?

  The enigma of the woman sitting in front of me was deepened even further when I learned that Niki held a bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice and Psychology, a masters in Legal Studies, and a law degree, and had recently accepted a job with a local law firm. She was only eight months into her career as a prosecuting attorney. Holy shit. Niki wasn’t only hot, she was smart. And a freaking head doctor of all things. I inwardly laughed at this—she’d have a hell of a time analyzing my family, and me? Well, I’d have her running for the hills if she caught a glimpse of what went on in my head on a daily basis.

  I learned she’d recently purchased her first home, a small cabin on Summit Mountain, and in an awkward back and forth, I learned that she didn’t have any close friends. This surprised the hell out of me, but that was nothing compared to when I found out that Niki Avery was single.

  I watched their back and forth, Haddix’s laser gaze on her sending my instincts piquing. There was more to this interview than just the questions. Haddix was eyeing her with both skepticism and an edginess like he was expecting her to lunge forward and attack him at any moment.

  Why?

  Then, Haddix went in for the kill, asking her to retell the story of what got her lost in the woods in the first place. I listened to the story of the attack for the second time, my heartbeat increasing with each time her shoulders slumped and she forced them straight again. Every time she shuffled her feet under the table. My pulse was pounding by the time she explained the dirt in her hair. My fists clenched at my sides, the heat of raw fury climbing up my body like a poison. Her tone never wavered, her face expressionless as she told the story as if it had happened to someone else. Facts; she’d spit them out one after the other. No grey area, just that is what happened, officer.

  I found myself inching closer to her. Why? No clue other than I wanted her to know I was there… and perhaps I wanted to remind Haddix I was there. Again, that possessiveness. Of her. This brought up a whole slew of emotions in me, a swirling mess taunting the professionalism I was supposed to have.

  She finished her horrific story, cool, calm, and collected other than the incessant tap, tap, tap of her knee under the table.

  A second of heavy silence slid by. Then, Haddix began his follow-up.

  “Aside from the attendees at the yoga retreat, who knew you were going there tonight?”

  “No one.”

  “You didn’t mention it to any friends? Post on social media?”

  “No.”

  “Do you recall anyone behind you as you drove to the resort?”

  “Not that I noticed, no.”

  “How many men were at the retreat?”

  “I couldn’t give you an exact number. I’m sure the instructor could, but I’d say no more than ten, maybe less.”

  “Aside from the masks and dark clothing, what can you tell me about your attackers?”

  “They were Caucasian. The bigger one was shorter than the skinnier one.”

  “How tall would you guess?”

  “The skinny one… maybe a little taller than six feet.”

  “Tattoos? Piercings?”

  “I couldn’t tell.”

  “You’re sure they were drunk?”

  “I smelled liquor on one of the man’s breath, yes.”

  “Did either of them say anything to you during the attack?”

  “Aside from a few fuck you bitch’s when I fought back, no.”

  My brows lifted, along with the corner of my lip.

  “And no,” she cut off the officer before he could speak. “I didn’t recognize the voice.”

  “Do you recall the size or type of the knife?”

  “It had a black hilt, I remember that. It was a big, thick blade. Like a big hunting knife.”

  “Six inch blade? Eight?”

  “Maybe eight.”

  “Smooth or serrated?”

  “I don’t know. I dropped it right after I…”

  He nodded. “Miss Avery, did the two talk to each other during the attack?”

  “To each other?”

  “Right.”

  “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

  “Did they both seem to be there willingly?”

  “Willing? What do you mean?”

  “Meaning, did it appear that they were both in on it together?”

  “They were together when they ran me off the road. Got out together, so yeah, I’d say so.”

  “And to confirm, the man who threw you to the ground was—who you refer to as—the fat one?”

  “That’s right. The skinny one punched me initially, then the fat one pushed me to the ground.”

  “The fat one that you killed, correct?”

  “That’s right.” Her voice cracked.

  “And it didn’t appear that one was forcing the other to participate in the attack?”

  My eyebrows squeezed together, trying to figure out where the hell Haddix was going with this.

  “No. I was the only one being forced to do anything,” she said, attitude coloring her tone.

  “What was the skinny one doing while the other had you on the ground?”

  “Watching.”

  A moment ticked by.

  Haddix leaned forward on his elbows.

  “Miss Avery, does the name Ian Lee mean anything to you?”

  Niki frowned. “No…”

  “Never heard the name? Doesn’t even ring a bell?”

  “No. Why? Who is he?” Her face paled. She leaned forward. “Is that him? The man I…”

  Haddix flickered me a glance. “According to the wallet in his pocket, yes.”

  “You know him?” I asked the officer.

  Haddix nodded. “Everyone at the station does. Several DWI’s, and one drunk and disorderly. Can’t count how many times we’ve been called to his apartment for noise disturbances.”

  “Does he have a roommate?”

  “Not that I recall. We’ll check into all that.”

  I made a note of the name. “The second attacker has got to be one of his friends. Check his social media—”

  “I wouldn’t immediately draw that conclusion, but we’ll check all angles.”

  “What do you mean, you wouldn’t draw that conclusion?”

  Fully annoyed with me now, Haddix dismis
sed my question. He picked up his phone and after a few taps turned the screen around to show a round-faced punk with a shaved head and neck tattoos. “Recognize him?” He asked Niki.

  Her mouth dropped, looking into the face of the man she’d killed. “No…” she said, her tone breathless. “I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

  Haddix shoved the image closer to her face, his eyes boring into her. I wanted to slap the damn phone away.

  “You have no past with this man? He’s never wronged you, in any way?”

  “No, I just said, I’ve never seen him before.”

  “No issues with him and any of your family members?”

  “No. I have no connection to this man. Why do you keep asking?”

  “Just trying to connect the dots.” He finally pulled the phone away from her face. “To confirm, the top was off your Jeep this evening?” His eyes scanned her barely-there tank and tiny shorts.

  “Yes.”

  He glanced at me as the same thought had crossed my mind. Misfit Ian Lee and his buddy on their way into town for more booze, sees a hot-ass woman in a low-cut tank top, alone in a vehicle in the middle of nowhere. Easy target. Done. A random act of sexual assault.

  That ended up with one man dead.

  Haddix closed his notebook and stood. “I’ll speak with the bars in the area, and check security cameras if they’ve got any. We’ll run the names of the yoga retreat attendees, as well as the guests of the hotel.”

  “And the truck?” Niki asked.

  “Yes, we’ll check with the DMV to see if anything matches the description along with your presumed height, race, and gender of the other attacker.”

  A lot to filter through was the undercurrent of his tone. But he wasn’t done.

  “Now…” He pulled a small camera from his pocket. “I need to get pictures of your wounds.”

  I shoved my hand on Niki’s shoulder, squeezing. “Hang on just a minute. Don’t you have a woman on staff that can come do it?”

  “It’s midnight. I can call, but it’ll be awhile.”

  “No,” Niki glowered over her shoulder with a look that’d make a normal man piss his pants. “Let’s get it done. Now.” She swatted my hand away, stood from the table, ignored me and addressed Haddix. “Where do you want me?”