by Kat Bammer
“You want me to step back, don’t you?”
“Yes, I need you to take a big step back from the case. Disentangle yourself. Maybe even consider some professional distance with the parties involved.”
Peter’s eyebrow shot up. “Again. I can separate my private life from my professional life, no problem. Did it all my life.”
“I know you can, Peter. It just feels off. I want you disentangled, and I want your focus on your job. This is not a dress down. You are good at your job and I appreciate that a lot. I just need you to get some perspective. A little distance.”
“She was my sister, Rich.”
“I know and the FBI will not forget this. But you are out. As of right now. You take a wide berth around everything related.”
Peter’s first impulse was to argue this decision, but deep down, he knew Richard was right. Professionally, at least.
He was emotionally invested in the death of his sister and in Lisa. He would step back, officially. But nobody could tell him what to do in his free time and nobody could order him to stay away from Lisa.
“I want you to talk to someone.”
The hair on Peter’s neck stood up. Was he suggesting a shrink? Honestly? This was a little over the top. Even for Richard.
“Thanks, but I’m fine. I don’t need to talk to someone.”
Richard smirked. Obviously, he knew where Peter’s train of thought was going.
“I want you to talk to Agent Holt. She’s the one who takes the lead on the investigation.”
An interesting-looking woman entered the office a minute later. Petite. Strawberry blonde. A pointy nose and mesmerizing clear, blue eyes. Peter had seen her before but couldn’t place her immediately—maybe at a crime scene. It would come to him.
“Agent Holt, meet Deputy Sheriff Fisher. He will get you up to speed on the investigation and all the current developments regarding that case.”
Peter’s eyebrows shot up. He should get her up to speed? Didn’t he just tell him to step back and now he promoted him to liaise with the FBI? This didn’t make sense. At all.
“Deputy Sheriff Fisher.”
“Agent Holt.” Peter bowed and shook the hand of the FBI agent.
They both eyed each other until the telephone rang and Richard took the call but covered the speaker with his hand. “Take this outside, would you? Get her up to speed. Then stay back and play nice.” He shooed them out of his office and Peter and Agent Holt closed the door behind them.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
Peter’s eyebrows shot up. Shit. Who was this woman? “You look familiar, but it doesn’t come to mind.”
“Leanne Cutter—” She offered him her hand again. “We went to kindergarten together. My family lived right next door. But we moved away!”
Now it dawned on him. She hadn’t changed much. She still looked like the little girl who had a rabbit soft toy in her hand and who sucked on her thumb whenever she got nervous.
It was a small world after all.
26
It has been exactly one month and seven days since the party at the Inn. One month of happiness. Of butterflies. Of good sex and good communications.
Well, all that had come to a screeching halt with Peter throwing her in jail two days ago.
Well, he didn’t literally throw her in jail and everybody at the sheriff’s office was pretty nice. But anyway.
Lisa hadn’t talked to Peter since. Not once. And every time she replayed in her mind the condescending things he’d said about her, she was pretty sure she didn’t want to talk to him ever again.
Luckily she found other things to keep her occupied. The best kind of escape. Even though she was a tad cold. Now that they were out of the water.
“Hey, Marty, this was great. Thanks for taking me. I really missed this.”
“You’re welcome. It’s a good start for the day, huh?”
Lisa nodded her head and watched her old diving instructor refill their tanks.
Initially, she’d called Marty about offering diving tours to their guests, but that actually never came up. Instead, he invited her down here for an early morning dive.
Their meeting was as if she’d never been away. Like old times. Hopefully he was interested in collaborating with them at the Inn.
“Hey, Marty?”
“Yeah,”
“My partner Claire and I were thinking about offering diving lessons to our guests—maybe even beginner courses, down at the Inn. Would you be game?”
Marty scrubbed his clean-shaven chin. “I guess so. As long as it doesn’t collide with my own clients. But then again, you would do the instructor part, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, but we would rent the equipment from you—the tanks, stuff like that. I don’t want to take business away from you.”
“Oh, that’s fine. There’s enough business for the both of us.” Marty chuckled, and before they went out front to the patio, they moved the refilled tanks to a storage rack behind the small building.
“Coffee?”
Lisa nodded and watched a gull land on the calm surface of the lake. Marty really was a great guy.
Marty’s Diving had always been Lisa’s escape and probably would still be. Under water and on Marty’s patio, she didn’t think about anything that stressed her out in her life. Well, at least that had held true during her last summer at home, before she started her journey. But somehow, now, that same strategy didn’t seem to work so well.
How could it be that Peter got under her skin so fast? And what he said the other day hurt so much. Lisa should’ve known better than to get involved.
Somehow, he always found a way to hurt her feelings.
Marty handed her a cup of steaming coffee and gave her a half-smile that nearly hid the concern in his eyes. He probably realized she was a bit under the weather. Or, far more likely, the rumor mill of Moon Lake was in full swing and he had heard about what had happened.
Lucky for her, Marty was such a genuine, kind man he didn’t ask too many questions.
A wise, old man. Even though he probably was only in his late forties by now.
She watched him take a sip of his coffee, the skin on his hand leathery from being out in the water and sun all day, every day.
“Hey, Marty?”
“Hmm.”
“What do you do in winter?”
“Sleep.”
Lisa snorted, then drew her eyebrows together. How could Marty afford to keep all this afloat if he wasn’t working in winter?
Marty chuckled when he saw her pinched face. “Oh, Lisa, lighten up. I usually work somewhere else. Somewhere warm. And in spring I come back here.”
Lisa nodded. That made sense, but why was he coming back? “Why?”
“Why do I work elsewhere?”
“Why come back?”
Marty’s face turned from carefree and relaxed to dark. Like he remembered something from the past. Then he shrugged. “This is my home. My roots. Same as you, I guess.”
Lisa inhaled, but before she could contradict him, a keen sense of calm washed through her. He was right. This was her home. This was where she would stay. So she had to talk to Peter. Get things out in the open. And set things right again.
Lisa got up and grabbed her bag.
“Thanks for the coffee, and the dive. But I gotta go now. I’ll stop by so we can talk some more soon, okay.”
Marty nodded and Lisa rushed to her mother’s old pickup.
First, she needed to stop by the Inn, then she needed to talk to Peter.
* * *
When Lisa turned into their road Peter was in his car right in front of her. Maybe he’d had the same thought.
Or, maybe not.
Lisa watched members of the FBI enter and exit the Inn, and her chest tightened. Would this nightmare never end?
She parked right next to Peter, and fury bubbled inside her when she exited the car.
“What now?”
Before he could sa
y anything, the back door flew open, and a disheveled Claire, followed by Blake, came running toward her.
“They arrived half an hour ago. They’ve got a search warrant.” Claire’s voice broke and Blake pressed her to his side and kissed her head.
Okay—there was definitely something going on there. But the thought just flashed through Lisa’s mind, before she focused back on the people at the Inn. She stormed toward the Inn but Peter’s strong hand held her back.
“Stay in the kitchen. Let me check things out first, okay?”
Lisa wanted to scream at him. Tell him it was all his fault, but that wouldn’t help one bit. Maybe it would be wise not to unleash her rage, just now. She nodded, and together with Claire and Blake, they entered the kitchen.
Peter turned left and exited the kitchen through the other door, into the hallway.
Should she really wait? This was her home. Her family. She was the one in charge now. Not Peter.
She peeked out of the door through the hallway, to the lobby where Peter talked to a young woman.
She heard Blake’s chuckle behind her.
“She doesn’t take orders that well, hmm?”
“No, she’s an independent woman, who doesn’t need a man to fix things for her,” Claire answered, which made Blake chuckle even more.
Lisa looked back and saw Claire pressed against Blake’s body.
Their eyes met and Claire immediately stepped out of the embrace and cleared her throat. “Can I get you a coffee?”
For a moment Blake looked like he would kiss Claire right then and there, but he obviously changed his mind in a split-second decision. Lisa could see the change in his body posture even from behind. One second he was relaxed, approachable, the next second he got all steely, closed-up, and alert.
Eerily similar to Peter.
“Yes, please, a coffee would be just the thing.”
Lisa turned around, about to step into the hallway, when she bumped into Peter.
“Couldn’t wait, huh?” He passed Lisa and sagged onto a chair.
“Coffee, Peter?” Claire said.
He looked up and nodded.
Lisa shifted from foot to foot, not sure if she should hear what Peter had to say, or go talk to the lady in her lobby.
“So, what’s going on?” Blake thankfully asked the exact same question she would have asked if she knew how.
“They got a search warrant for the Inn and the cottage,” Peter answered. He didn’t elaborate, and he avoided looking at her.
“Why? They don’t get a search warrant out of thin air,” Blake said while Lisa stopped breathing. There was something in those documents that had led them to believe her father was somehow involved.
“The documents Carl had in his workshop. He’s a potential suspect now,” Peter replied.
Enough was enough. Lisa marched through the hallway. How dare the FBI accuse her father of doing such awful things.
“Excuse me, Mrs.—”
The woman turned around. She was tiny. Not that Lisa was particularly tall, but next to this woman, she felt like a giant.
“I’m Lisa Reynolds. Can you tell me—”
“Hi, I’m Agent Holt. Nice to meet you. I’m really sorry, but we need to search the Inn and the cottage.”
The agent was nice, almost apologetical, and Lisa’s anger somehow evaporated. The tightness in her chest turned into numbness, and moisture gathered behind her eyes. What the hell went wrong with her life? “But why?”
The nice agent took a wad of paper and pushed it toward Lisa. “I’m really sorry.”
Lisa looked down at the court document. Couldn’t they catch a break? Now she had to go tell her mother, and Lisa just knew how bad that would go.
“I have to go, tell Mom.” Agent Holt nodded and Lisa turned around and trotted back down the hallway, through the kitchen, and out the back door.
“Hey, where are you going?” Claire grabbed Lisa’s shoulder and stopped her on the stairs.
Lisa blinked away the heat behind her eyelids. She looked up at Peter and Blake who stood in the doorframe and then back to Claire. “I gotta go prepare Mom. Tell her they are coming.”
Then she turned back around, her feet getting heavier with every step she took. Tears dripped off her chin which she furiously wiped away. She could feel Peter’s presence beside her, but avoided directly looking at him, or thinking about him. If she did that, she was pretty sure her heart would crack.
“Would you please leave?” Didn’t he realize that he made everything worse?
“I’m just backup. In case you need me.”
Was that what he still thought? That she needed him? Hell. He was the one who brought this on. Without him overreacting like he did, none of this would’ve happened. Lisa just walked, her eyes fixated on the wobbly image of the cottage’s door. She didn’t have enough energy for another fight with Peter. Or with her mother, for that matter. But her feelings obviously didn’t count.
When her mother opened the door, still in her bathrobe, Lisa physically felt the waves of disdain. But Lisa didn’t waver. This wasn’t about her. This wasn’t something she had done wrong. Even though her mother’s wrath was directed solely at her. Lisa steeled herself, so her mother’s words couldn’t hurt her.
“Mom—enough. Get dressed, get prepared. This is happening so there’s really nothing more to say.”
Her mother looked like she had plenty more to say but turned on her heel and stormed inside the cottage. At least this was getting easier. Lisa turned around to face the Inn and nearly bumped into Peter, who was still at her side.
“Let’s head back to the kitchen,” Peter said.
Lisa pressed her eyes closed. Couldn’t he just go? Her whole body hurt, and his presence made everything worse. Why didn’t he see that?
Peter took Lisa by the elbow, but Lisa shook him off. “Don’t touch me.”
“Lisa…”
There was something off with his voice. But it could’ve been the dull thud of her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
She raised her hands. “Look…I just can’t right now, okay.”
The look on his face clearly stated it wasn’t okay. But that was something he had to deal with on his own.
Back in the kitchen they settled around the breakfast nook and Claire scurried around until everybody had a coffee in hand.
“Why do they search the whole place?” Claire said.
Peter drew a breath and released it slowly. “They have to make sure there isn’t more evidence…or something that points to Carl. Which I’m sure there isn’t.” He ran his hands through his hair and made it stand up.
Lisa slammed down her mug on the table, forceful enough for the coffee to spill over and burn her hand.
“Why didn’t you at least give us a little warning?”
Claire got up and when she returned, Lisa snatched the cleaning rag from her hands and wiped furiously at the mess.
“Look, I’m really sorry.” Peter’s voice was quiet. “But Travers took me out of the equation. Too much personal involvement.” He hesitated. “I hoped he would keep me in the loop, but clearly I was wrong.”
He sounded miffed about this but shrugged it off. “But either way I couldn’t have said something. That’s the job.”
Oh right, she was talking with Mr. Ethical over there.
“So, there was really nothing you could do,” Claire clarified and looked expectantly at Lisa.
What did she want from her? To say it’s okay? Well, it really wasn’t.
“Or, maybe he shouldn’t have overreacted in the first place, then my father wouldn’t be a suspect and all of this wouldn’t have happened.”
Peters eyebrows pinched together. Then he folded his arms across his chest, and Lisa mimicked his movement and glared at him across the table.
Peter held eye contact, but after a few seconds he shook his head and sighed.
“Look, that’s my job—that’s who I am.” His voice cracked and he cleared his th
roat. “I’d handle it the same way again. This isn’t about what I want, or what you want. This is about what’s right and what’s wrong.”
“My father’s a good man. And now, thanks to you, he’s a suspect. Good to know how much more important it is for you to do the right thing, than to have my back.”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “I have your back all right. But this”—he made a sweeping gesture through the room—“this has nothing to do with the two of us. If he is innocent, they will find out. I believe in the law.”
“If.” Lisa stood up and leaned over the table with her nostrils flaring. “Did you really just say if? Out.” She swallowed against the sour taste in her mouth and jabbed her finger first at Peter and then the door. “I want you out of my house.”
“Lisa—”
“Now.” She might have screamed. Hard to say with the pounding in her ears. She was so done with all of this. She just wanted to go hide in her room. Pretend like none of this had ever happened.
Her hands clenched and unclenched. “My dad is not a serial killer. How dare you doubt that for a minute.”
Peter grumbled something unintelligible but left the table. At the door he turned back. “I’m on your side. I have known your father since childhood. Carl isn’t a killer, so let them find that out and rule him out as a suspect. It’s their job. And mine.” He turned around and left.
When the door closed behind him, Lisa plonked back down and laid her head on the table as tears gathered in her eyes. This was really fucked-up. Just an hour ago, she’d thought things between them would be okay, but now…now she just didn’t know. He was so cold. So matter-of-fact. And she turned into a crazy bitch around him. This wasn’t going to work. They didn’t work.
Then Blake stood up and Lisa was immediately embarrassed.
“I’m going to head out too.”
She raised her eyebrows when he kissed Claire on the lips, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, then he squeezed Lisa’s shoulder.
