Lonesome Lake

by Lesley Appleton-Jones

  Shame made her heart beat faster. Her parents would never have neglected their beautiful home. If the house survived, she vowed to restore it to its former glory.

  ◆◆◆

  Over at the Caxton Police Department, Raines parked next to Holly’s Jeep and sat there staring at a case file on the seat beside him. He didn’t want to open it. There was nothing in there except sleepless nights, but he picked it up anyway. The crime scene photos of his sister-in-law’s dead body were on top. He shoved them to the back of the file to avoid looking at them, except for the one clipped to the case notes.

  It was a photo of Sherry the last time he’d seen her. She smiled up at him from the glossy paper as she had when he’d taken it. They’d been backstage after one of his concerts, the night she’d brought Abbey and Melody to see him play. Nate hadn’t come with them, which she’d been awkward about at first but soon got over it. He remembered how she’d brushed the hair out of Melody’s eyes before cupping her face to give her butterfly kisses like she was a little girl. He swallowed. It had been a bittersweet moment for him. He’d felt a biting loss of what might have been.

  Pulling the image free from under the paperclip, he studied Sherry’s face for any hint of what was to come. He saw nothing, just the same shy smile he’d fallen for as a teenager.

  He ran a finger across the photo and jumped as someone rapped on his passenger window.

  Startled, the photos he’d stuffed in the back of the file spilled out across the passenger seat and onto the floor.

  Holly Jakes opened the truck door and grinned, clearly pleased she’d flustered him.

  “What do you have there, Raines?” she asked as she scooped up the contents of the spilled file and glanced at the photos.

  By her shocked expression, he could tell the images of Sherry’s mutilated body were the last thing she’d expected to find. She took the folder he was still holding, and with great care, she replaced them. Handing the file back to him, she hopped up into his truck, closed the door and gave him a sideways, questioning glance, which he ignored.

  Instead, he clipped Sherry’s photo to the case notes and slid the file under his seat. “What do you want, Jakes?” The morning sun gave Holly’s heart-shaped face a soft, California-girl glow. She was so alive. So vital.

  “There’s a fire over at Gabby’s house. Another arson.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine, and the fire is under control. Do you want to come with me and check it out?”

  In response to her question, he turned the key in the ignition and slipped the truck into gear. It gave a throaty growl as he pulled onto the street.

  Holly buckled her seatbelt. “You’re digging a hole to nowhere. Your brother did it, Raines. We both know he’s guilty as hell. Sherry’s case was completely different. It has nothing to do with Mimi’s. Sherry’s homicide was disorganized. It was a chaotic scene. It lacked the premeditation of Mimi’s, and there was no sign that someone planned to burn down the house.

  “We’re dealing with two very different killers. You know it, but you feel bad for Abbey. That’s understandable. I get how much better for the kids it would be if Nate were innocent, but he’s not. We caught the right guy the first time around. No matter how heartbreaking it is to see the girls struggle with this, you’re not doing them any favors if you begin to have doubts. You’re doing so much for them, but Abbey needs help. She could have been hurt last night.”

  Raines stopped at a red light, removed his sunglasses and turned to her. “Don’t you think I know that? Just drop it, Holly.”

  Most people would have heeded his warning tone and stopped before they crossed the line, but not Holly. He saw her eye twitch just before she blurted, “Knowing and doing are two different things. It’s time to file the case in the closed drawer where it belongs.”

  He shook his head at her ability to talk to him as if he were a five-year-old.

  “Don’t shake your head at me, Raines. You know I’m right.”

  He put on his sunglasses. “You’ve always been such a pain in the ass.”

  “That pain is not me; it’s your butt telling you that you’ve been sitting on it far too long. Abbey’s messed up. You’re going to have to make her see someone.”

  He said nothing, just rolled through the green light. He didn’t need Holly to point that out. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to get her to talk to a therapist. Short of dragging her there, he was at a loss at how best to convince her to go. The more he pushed, the more distant she became.

  Holly nudged him on the arm. “So, are you going to tell me what happened over at Olivia’s or are you going to brood all day?”

  “I’m beginning to regret parking next to your Jeep.”

  “Hey. You’ve been bugging me for days. Now it’s payback. Come on. Spill the beans. How did it go with Jesse and Olivia?”

  “It wasn’t a total disaster. Olivia let me talk to Jesse, who confirmed Abbey’s story. Like Abbey, I felt he withheld something, but he convinced me he wasn’t the one who grabbed her. When I told him about it, it would have taken a skilled actor to fake his shocked expression.” Raines continued to fill her in on the rest of their conversation.

  “How did they take it when you started asking him where he was at the time of Mimi’s murder?”

  “Olivia didn’t appreciate the fact that Jesse had made our suspect list. She shut me down fast.”

  “Well, you can’t win them all.”

  He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you, Jakes?”

  “Pick up the speed and get me to Gabby’s sometime today. You drive slower than my grandmother.”

  “Isn’t she dead?”

  “Need I say more?”

  Raines reached for the manual floor shifter, changed gears and the half-ton pickup’s flathead V8 responded with a mean rumble.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  They found Gabby standing in the middle of the lawn, staring up at her house. Firefighters darted around the building with efficient energy. Some coiled hoses, others stowed nozzles, axes, a pry bar and their air packs.

  When Gabby spotted Raines, she hurried over and slid her arms around his waist, the distance created by years of separation falling away as she turned to a friend she knew she could rely on.

  Raines hugged her and felt her body shaking. “You okay?”

  “I am, but my house isn’t.” Her voice caught.

  “All that matters is that you and your family are safe.”

  “I know. I’m so thankful the kids weren’t home. What a shock.”

  “Can you tell us what happened?” Holly asked.

  Composing herself, Gabby let go of Raines and turned to her. “I came home to finish an article. This is weird, but I write my best articles down in the basement surrounded by all my junk. Anyway, as soon as I walked into the house I smelled gasoline and saw smoke coming from the basement. I didn’t hang around.”

  At that moment, Sully emerged from the house.

  Anxious, Gabby called out to him. “How is everything?”

  The Fire Chief walked over to them. “You’re lucky. Most of the damage is in the basement. Looks like an amateur. Someone poured gasoline on a stack of paper down there but didn’t realize how volatile the vapors are. I suspect the furnace’s pilot light ignited the fumes before he had a chance to finish the job. The fire didn’t get going because the papers are tightly packed. It’s not easy burning a stack of paper. The house is structurally sound, but there’s some smoke damage.”

  Another firefighter exited the house carrying a cage.

  “Squeaky!” Gabby cried, rushing over to him. “How could I have forgotten about the guinea pig?”

  The firefighter called out, “It’s okay. The little guy’s still alive.”

  Sully took the opportunity to give Raines and Holly a more detailed report. “There’s a broken window down in the basement. I bet that’s how he got in, but I think he exited through the back door. It was open. Gabby
said she used the front door. He dropped the gasoline container out back. If we’re real lucky, we’ll get some prints.”

  “Any similarities to the Milbourne scene?” Raines asked.

  “Nothing except the gasoline. I’ll have more later.”

  Raines watched Gabby lift the furry animal out of the cage, kiss the top of his tiny head and hold it close to her chest. It squeaked loud enough for them all to hear. He turned to Sully. “Setting a fire in broad daylight is high risk, and high-risk behavior fits the profile of Mimi’s killer.”

  Sully’s phone beeped. He checked the text. “We just got lucky. Robert Beaupré is being treated for burns at Caxton Memorial Hospital. The pattern is consistent with splash burns from gasoline.”

  “Now that’s interesting,” Holly said and called out, “Gabby, what do you have down in the basement?”

  She walked over to them, carrying the guinea pig with her. “My research is down there and copies of the newspaper. We’re tight for space at the office.”

  Raines gently stroked Squeaky’s back. “Who else knows that you store your files down there?”

  She shrugged. “Pretty much everyone who knows me. My husband is always complaining about it.”

  “Any chance Bob Beaupré would know?”

  “He could, I suppose. And all of his surveillance information is stored down there.”

  “As soon as you’re allowed to reenter the house, we’re going to need everything you have on Beaupré,” Holly told her.

  “Do you think he did this?” Gabby asked.

  Raines pulled his keys out of his pocket. “We’re about to find out.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Lost in thought, Abbey stood in front of the oven and watched the cheese bubble on top of the lasagna she’d made for dinner. Since being chased out of the woods the night before, her uncle had checked on them periodically throughout the day, but she refused to talk to him. She was talking to Po, though, who also kept vigil. Out in the woods, police patrolled the trails on ATVs, which meant that she hadn’t had a chance to sneak out to meet Jesse. She’d texted to let him know, but she hadn’t heard back, and it was driving her nuts.

  The cheese finally started to brown, and Abbey removed the casserole dish from the oven. As she placed it on the counter, Melody strolled into the kitchen and sniffed. “Don’t tell me you made lasagna again.”

  Abbey glared at her little sister and snapped, “You want something different, you cook it.”

  “Why do you always have to make lasagna?”

  “I like it, that’s why.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “You’re such a brat. Po and Uncle Cal never complain, but nothing is ever good enough for you.”

  “It’s different for them,” Melody retorted.

  “Tomorrow is your turn, so you get to cook whatever you want.”

  “I’m not cooking.”

  “You’re so freaking obnoxious.”

  Melody ignored this comment. Retrieving milk from the refrigerator and Nesquik from the cupboard, she slapped them down on the counter next to the offending lasagna. With great exaggeration, she poured milk into a glass, spooned in mounds of chocolate powder and topped off her act of defiance with a noisy stir of the glass.

  Abbey pointed at it. “You should have more than that.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You need to eat something. You’re practically anorexic.”

  “You’re not my mother.”

  The words delivered a sucker punch to Abbey’s gut, and an image of the hurt expression on her Uncle’s face the night before flashed into her mind. She’d practically yelled the same thing at him. It took her a couple of seconds before she was able to mumble, “Whatever.”

  “Abbey…”

  “Just drink your milk and shut up.”

  Melody ducked her head, and from behind the long bangs that seemed to protect her from the outside world, she whispered, “It’s just tough sometimes.”

  Abbey turned to the sink and gripped it. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  With a harsh, accusatory tone, Melody snapped, “You don’t remember, do you?”

  “What?”

  “Mom made lasagna for us that day.”

  Abbey frowned. “She did? I don’t remember that.”

  “No kidding. You helped Mom make lasagna before you went over to Penny’s house. We had it for dinner. Mom always made lasagna because it’s your favorite.”

  Abbey felt dazed. She hesitated, thinking: That’s right. We did have lasagna.

  She stared at the browned mozzarella. Meat sauce bubbled and oozed up the sides of the Pyrex dish. A massive lump formed in her throat and tears filled her eyes. “How could I have forgotten?” A tear splashed down onto the counter.

  Melody stammered, “It’s no big deal.”

  Abbey wiped her eyes. “I don’t want to forget her, Mel.”

  “Don’t worry,” she replied. “We won’t ever forget her.”

  Feeling closer to her sister than she had for over a year, Abbey said, “I’m sorry.” And she meant it.

  Melody shrugged. “Maybe I’ll have a hunk of that lasagna. It doesn’t smell too bad.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I know, but I want to try it.”

  Abbey cut a square and used a spatula to place it on a plate. Then they stepped into the stirrups of the stools and mounted the saddles at the kitchen counter in unison. Just like we’re mounting up to ride the range together, she thought. Uncle Cal had surprised her with the stools when they’d moved in, and she loved them.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Melody blow on it to cool it down before swallowing a mouthful.

  “It’s good,” she said, but it was obvious she was fighting the gag reflex.

  Abbey felt a flood of warmth for her sister that had been missing for a long time. They’d been close once, but Melody’s refusal to believe in their dad’s innocence had torn them apart.

  It felt good to be there together, sharing a meal, as they did after school. It felt normal—something neither one of them had experienced in a long time. It was a sign, Abbey decided. Melody was finally ready to talk about what had happened. “I’m going to visit Dad next week.”

  The forkful of lasagna that Melody was about to eat dropped to her plate. It should have been a warning, but Abbey had only one thing on her mind. “Why don’t you come with me? It would mean so much to Dad.”

  “I don’t want to.” Melody’s voice was low, almost a growl. She hopped down from the stool and started to walk toward the stairs.

  “I think it would be good for you.”

  Her sister turned to face Abbey. “I don’t want to see him.”

  “It will help you remember what happened that night.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve told you. I don’t remember what happened.” Then Melody started to rock back and forth.

  Abbey knew she should stop, but she couldn’t. Her sister looked close to breaking. “Dad’s in prison. If only you would remember, you could help get him out. Don’t you want to bring him home?”

  Melody yelled, “Just leave me alone.”

  As if sensing trouble, Po chose that moment to walk in. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  Melody ran past him, heading for the stairs.

  Po had a crabby expression on his face. “What were you talking about?”

  She stared down at her plate. The lasagna looked disgusting. “Dad.”

  “Didn’t you agree not to push her about that night?”

  Anger forced her to raise her head and glare at him, which was something she’d never done before. She usually reserved that particular look for her uncle. “She knows something, and she’s had enough time to get over it. We need to push her. Get her to tell us the truth.”

  He softened the gruffness of his bear-like voice. “We’ve been over this. If Melody knows anything, which I doubt, she’ll tell us in her own time.”
/>   Abbey shoved her plate away. “And all the while Dad has to sit in prison.”

  “You need to let this go.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. Your father isn’t rotting in a cell.”

  “I know, honey.”

  “If only you could see what’s happening to him. He’s lost weight. And last time I saw him, he had a bruise on his cheek.” She had to stop and choke back a sob.

  Po placed a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you go and talk to someone about this? Someone who can help you cope with your feelings.”

  She tensed and shook his hand off her shoulder. “I’ve told you and Uncle Cal that I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

  “It will help.”

  “I talk to you. That’s good enough.”

  “But not as good as talking to a counselor.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me. All I need is for you and Uncle Cal to help find this killer and get him to confess to murdering my mother. That’s what I need. Can you do that?”

  By the way he’d paled, she suspected the desperation in her voice must have scared him worse than any takedown he’d been on with the DEA. It took him a couple of seconds to say, “I don’t think Cal is chasing the same person who killed your mother, but you know I’ll support him any way I can.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “Good.” Exhausted, she wanted to put an end to the discussion. “Do you want some lasagna?”

  “You make the best lasagna, and you know how much I love it.”

  He lied. He was a meat and potatoes kind of guy, but she hacked out a large piece and placed it in front of him. The sight of it made her queasy now.

  He took a huge bite and declared, “Now that’s tasty.”

  She tried to smile. “You never get fed up eating it, do you?”

  “What? Are you kidding me? I could eat it every night and for breakfast, too.”

  “You’re such a liar. I could see you doing that with burgers but never pasta.”