by Raven Snow
He glanced up from the large textbook he was reading and straightened up from the curb. Once he was in the car, I took off, ignoring the glares I got from the teacher for my tardiness. It wasn’t like she could give me detention or something.
Then, like he’d read my mind, Cooper said, “My teacher says she’s going to send you to the principal’s office if you’re late again.”
“Ooh, I’m so scared.”
He grinned. “I’ll pass that on.”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
He paused during which he put away his book. “You’re going to find who did that to Hope’s dad, right?”
I took my time in replying, thinking it all over. I was always honest with Cooper, often discussing details of the case openly, but I was having one of those rare moments of doubt.
Kids couldn’t be relied on to keep their mouths shut, generally. And I didn’t need to hurt Hope further by exposing details of her father’s murder or Kosher’s involvement. She didn’t like the detective any more than I did, but she did live with him. She might not feel safe in her own home, if she thought he’d murdered her dad and fed him to a lake monster.
“This stays between us,” I said, finally.
He nodded, eyes wide. I’d never asked him to keep quiet before.
“The case isn’t going very well,” I admitted. “The only evidence we have is against Kosher. There are suspects and motives all over the place, but I’m not sure I’m any closer to catching his killer than I was the morning they found the body.”
“What about Hope’s old babysitter?” Cooper asked, proving his intellect. “What if she got into town before the funeral?”
For a moment, I just stared at my kid, mouth slightly agape. Then, I gave him a big smooch on the cheek and made an abrupt right turn. The contents of the car shifted, including Cooper, who was thrown against the door.
“You’re a genius, kid,” I told him. “One day, you’re going to be better than your dad and me combined.”
“If I live that long,” he said, rubbing the spot where he conked his head against the glass.
“There’s always that.” I made another right turn. “You don’t mind running a little errand with me, right?”
“I was supposed to study for a history exam.”
“Lame. Don’t you want to help catch a killer?”
I had him there.
The motel where Kosher had been staying loomed over the horizon. I drove into the parking lot and parked the car. After wagging a finger at Cooper, I said, “Stay.”
Like always, the manager was pretty easy to convince. I couldn’t count the number of times he’d given me the room number of a guest while staring at my butt. Today, the attention reminded me a little of Chris, which only served to excite me. I was on the trail, and I was going to solve this.
After obtaining the babysitter’s room information, I grabbed Cooper from the car, and we walked over. It was on the opposite side of the motel from where Kosher had stayed. Unsurprisingly, as the rooms over here were a little nicer, having been built more recently.
I grinned at Cooper and knocked on the door. Katie, as Vic told me she liked to be called, answered in a pink, fluffy robe. She had a facemask on, and her hair was wrapped in a thin, motel towel.
“Harper Beck, I said, sticking my hand out to shake hers.
She took it reluctantly, seeming a little shocked. “Um, hello?”
Taking that as an invitation, I wormed my way past her into the room. Cooper was right on my heels, using his charming, little smile to get her to let him through.
I was so proud.
“I’m investigating the death of Chris Prandon,” I said.
A little bit of her confusion cleared up. “So, you’re with the police or something?”
Or something.
Nodding, I said, “You knew the victim, correct?”
She sniffed. “He was the love of my life.”
How anyone could describe Chris that way was a bigger mystery than who killed him. But I kept my face sympathetic as I pulled out a pocket notebook and wrote her words down. It was a trick I picked up watching Wyatt. It made people think you were interested and professional.
“But you weren’t seeing him at the time of his death?”
Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment. “We had a fight about a month ago, but we would’ve gotten past it.”
That was about the time Chris showed up in Waresville. I wondered if Katie would be so quick to call him the love of her life if she knew he had been sleeping with someone else and trying to get back with Vic.
But it wasn’t my place to tell her any of that. At least not while I was trying to get information out of her.
“Of course,” I said, placating her. “And when did you arrive in Waresville?”
“This morning.”
“Is there anyone who can verify that?” Her eyes narrowed, and I quickly said, “It’s procedure.”
“I was staying with my mother.” Her tone dropped to icy levels. “And I think you should be going.”
She slammed the door behind Cooper and me.
“See, Coop?” I said. “That’s rude.”
The police would check Katie’s alibi, but I had a feeling she was telling the truth. That put me back to square one. A place I was unfortunately becoming quite intimate with.
But meeting with Katie had given me an idea about following up.
“What now?” Cooper asked as we got into the car.
“Now, we break some rules.”
Chapter Eight
I showed up on Kosher's front porch dressed in all black. The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon, so I was sweating a little. Gotta love a Florida winter.
Luckily, he was the one who answered, because I wasn't sure what to say to Hope or Vic. For the former, I was afraid of being called a failure for not yet finding her father's killer. For Vic, I just wasn't sure she'd gotten all the brawling out of her system.
Kosher's face was set in grim lines, and the swelling in his nose had risen to epic proportions. I wondered what hurt worse: the nose or the fact that his girlfriend had screamed, "Get away from my husband," in a jealous rage.
"I'm not in the mood," he said, moving as if he was going to slam the door in my face.
Didn't anyone have any manners anymore?
I held my hand out to stop him. "Are you more in the mood for prison, then?"
His sigh was the only concession I was going to get, so I told him to go upstairs, dress in dark clothing and quiet shoes, and meet me in the car. He said nothing, shutting the door, so I could only assume he was doing as I asked.
He joined me in the front seat a few minutes later, looking no less annoyed. It must have been his default setting when I was around.
"This couldn't have waited ‘til morning?"
I shook my head. "We're going to do some sneaking under the cover of darkness. Less chance of being detected that way."
Face completely blank, Kosher just sat there and stared at me for a moment. "If I counted how many times I've caught you and your little friends sneaking around at night, I'd have to use my toes."
He did have me there. If Oliver or I so much as sneezed during a break in for evidence, Kosher was unluckily there with handcuffs at the ready. Personally, I thought it was more of a comment on the cruelness of the universe than my sneaking skills.
Starting the car, I said, "I guess it's a good thing none of my little friends are here tonight. Just you. Think you can handle it?"
"Just drive, Beck."
When we pulled up at the vacant police station, Kosher started vehemently shaking his head.
“Absolutely not. No. No way.”
“We need to see what’s inside those police reports,” I told him. “You don’t have access, and I won’t put Wyatt’s job in jeopardy by asking him.”
“Just my job, then,” he said, glaring.
“You don’t have a job.”
I winced as
soon as the words came out of my mouth. “What I mean is—you don’t have a job right now. But you will. Soon.”
The door swung open. “Get your foot out of your mouth. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it quickly before I can change my mind.”
I rushed after Kosher into the dark, deserted building, a little surprised that he was leading the charge. When I pictured this, I practically had to drag him.
We went straight to Wyatt’s desk only to be disappointed. It was clear after a two second inspection that the report wasn’t there. My husband kept a very organized desk. He would’ve kept an organized home to match, but I was the wrench in his plans there.
“If not here, where?” I hissed under my breath.
There were no other cops working on this with him. Vic, his usual partner, had taken a leave of absence due to the whole dead ex-husband thing. And even if she had been here, the department would’ve kept her far away from this. Too much conflict of interest.
“Has he been working with anyone else?” Kosher asked.
“How should I know? You work here.”
“And you’re his wife!”
We split up and checked the other desks. Not one of them was as neat as Wyatt’s, so it took a bit of time. I had to shuffle through wrappers, coffee cups, and old grocery lists just to get to anything important, only to find out what I’d thought was important was actually just files filled with government red tape.
“I don’t like this,” he said, coming back to my side after we’d both finished our sweep. “We should just get out of here before someone comes looking.”
Rolling my eyes, I wished Oliver or Vic were here. Bailing at the first obstacle was a rookie mistake. Who exactly did he think was coming to an afterhours police station to work through the night? Not even Wyatt was that dedicated.
“It’s not here,” Kosher said under his breath, glancing around with open paranoia. “We’ve looked everywhere.”
A thought occurred to me. And it wasn’t a pleasant one.
“Not everywhere.”
I pulled Kosher over to a very official looking door with a gold nameplate on it. For a moment, he stared at me blankly, not comprehending. Then, horror cut through his features like a heated knife through butter.
The office we’d come to belonged to the Chief.
“You are trying to get me fired.”
“Not at this moment,” I said. “It’s the only place we haven’t checked.”
I tried the door, and it didn’t give.
One look at my face, and Kosher said, “I’m not picking the Chief’s lock.” There was steel in his tone, and I knew he wouldn’t budge.
Luckily, I didn’t need him to.
For the second time in as many days, I grabbed onto my inner power. I pushed a burst of it through the lock in a way that had become second nature to me. Essentially, I made the air inside tangible in the shape of the key. Like making an instant copy. Inside the mechanism, I heard a click.
I allowed myself one congratulatory smile. Not too long ago, I wouldn’t have been able to get in using magic without breaking the lock, which kind of defeated the point of sneaking around.
I’d half been hoping there’d be a file waiting for us on top of the boss’s desk, but it seemed nothing was going to be easy in this case.
Quietly, I unlocked all the compartments in the desk, carefully going through all the papers inside. Beside me, Kosher stood rooted to the spot as if frozen by fear. He kept chanting, “The Chief’s desk…we’re going through the Chief’s desk.”
Frankly, I was a little concerned that I was going to have to call Vic and tell her I broke her boyfriend.
Finally, I found the folder I was looking for. Despite his reluctance on the breaking and entering, Kosher was eager to read over my shoulder, and we both held our breath in anticipation.
“Looks like Nancy was right about the prints,” I said, a little miffed. “They can definitely put you on that boat.”
“A man shouldn’t be held accountable for where he goes when he’s that drunk.”
“Oh, yeah, I think I read about that in the Constitution.”
“Wait, look,” he said, drawing my attention back to the report. “There’s something else.”
There certainly was. The techs had been very thorough, testing everything they’d found on the boat. Including Kosher’s badge. Some of the prints had obviously come back as his, but there was one they couldn’t match.
When he heaved a sigh of relief, I shook my head. “Don’t get too excited. One unidentified fingerprint doesn’t put you in the clear.”
But it was a hell of a good step in the right direction.
“It’s not that.” He smiled sheepishly, and it was a strange look on his hard face. “I was beginning to doubt myself. I don’t remember much from that night, but this evidence supports what I think happened.”
I could have smacked my head against the wall. Not only was almost all the evidence against Kosher, but he was practically strapping himself into the electric chair. What had I been thinking when I took this case?
“Do me a favor,” I said, slipping the file back where it belonged, “keep your confessions to a minimum from here on out. I’m not a miracle worker.”
Our time in the office was cut short when we heard the front door open, squeaking ominously. My head snapped toward Kosher, whose expression matched mine down to the last detail. His eyes were bugging out of his skull, sweat dripping down his forehead, and I’d seen better color on a corpse.
Even a corpse that had been gnawed on by something that lived at the bottom of the lake.
“Who’s stupid and paranoid now?” he hissed.
“I never said you were stupid and paranoid,” I said, locking the desk up quickly. “I just thought it.”
We fell silent when we heard footsteps in the main room, making their way closer to where we were. With the door closed, it was impossible to tell who had come to break up our little party, but it was probably someone with a gun. Just my luck.
“Okay,” I said under my breath, pulling Kosher toward the door. “We’ve got to run for it.”
“Run! So they can shoot us in the back?”
“Would you shoot an unarmed person in the back as they ran away?” My hand closed around the doorknob, and I tensed, preparing myself to break a few speed records.
“Absolutely.”
I stopped what I was doing for a moment. “God, you’re a horrible cop.”
And then, I whipped the door open, and we were sprinting through it. The building had a back entrance, and I amazingly didn’t even have to communicate my plan to Kosher. We just moved together like two halves of a whole.
It was unsettling to say the least.
I heard the cop behind us shout, but we didn’t stop. Charging through the door, the sound of my feet slapping the pavement and my heartbeat roaring in my ears. Behind that sound was the cacophony of someone giving chase, screaming at us to stop in the name of the law.
It only made me run faster.
From his heavy breathing, I knew that Kosher was right behind me. I didn’t dare stop or look back as we flew down the street, taking random turns and alleys to throw our pursuer off our trail.
Eventually, we started slowing down, and then we were at a stop. I leaned against a brick wall, panting and sweating like a pig. Kosher wasn’t in any better shape, but at least those were the only sounds we heard, having lost the cop.
I slapped Kosher on the back. “Let’s hope he didn’t recognize you.”
He nodded, still getting his breath back. “That evidence gave me an idea.”
“Oh?” This probably meant I couldn’t go home and crawl into my bed next to Wyatt. I hated ideas.
“Right. So, you know now how the tech guys miss stuff all the time?”
“My tax dollars at work.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not that. It’s just that in a murder like this, there’s a lot of ground to cover. And a lot of eviden
ce was probably washed away.”
I had a sinking feeling I knew where this was going, but I sure wasn’t going to help him get there.
“I say, we go back to the scene of the crime and duck under the crime scene tape while we’re at this breaking and entering. See what we can see.”
He had a point, so we headed back to where I parked the bug. Our footsteps were silent, and we regarded every shadow with suspicion. I, for one, had done enough running that night to last a week. It was almost as bad as that jog with Stan.
Once again, the road to the lake was hell on my shocks. We bounced right past the bait shop, where all the lights were off. There was no movement in any of the windows, though we made enough sound to wake the dead. I found myself wondering where Sawyer spent his nights. I’d been under the impression he lived in his shop.
As predicted the tape was still up when we pulled up to the dock. Kosher lifted it up for me, just like Wyatt would have done. Both of them were Southern gentlemen down to the core. Maybe that was why Wyatt found it so hard to believe that Kosher could have done this.
The step from the dock to the boat was a big one, and I could see the dark water swaying gently under my feet. It wasn’t hard to imagine something living down there. Waiting.
I hesitated.
Kosher snorted. “Not afraid of a little water, are you?”
Sniffing, I put my nose in the air. “Of course not.”
I stepped down onto the deck on the boat without looking so as not to chicken out in front of Kosher. The humidity had made the deck slick, and I almost went down, the sound of my shoes slipping across the boards like gunfire on the quiet lake.
“Keep it down.” Kosher joined me in a far more graceful manner, looking put out.
There were beer cans everywhere I looked, along with a few buckets filled with smelly fish and fishing poles lined up against the cabin where the steering wheel was.
“God,” I said, holding my nose. “Couldn’t they have thrown those overboard?”
“That’s called tampering with evidence.”
He headed towards the door to the inside of the boat which had been locked the last time I came. A jiggle of the handle told us both that it still was.
