Reaching the front door, Jimmy turned to them and said with the reverence of someone in church, “Pray for a porn channel and a refrigerator full of ice-cold brewskies.” He pulled out a special pick he’d told them his uncle had given him after winning it in a poker game. He placed a small flashlight between his teeth and bit down to position the beam on his hands as he fiddled with the lock. Jimmy fancied himself as one smooth operator, Skeeter thought.
Nicky rolled his eyes.
Skeeter taunted, “He’s such a wanksta.”
Nicky chuckled. Everyone knew Jimmy was no gangsta, just a wannabe.
“Ta-da!” Jimmy preened victoriously as the door swung open.
As they all burst into the cabin, they got the shock of their lives. A grizzly bear swiped at them. Its paws were the size of manhole covers with claws as long and sharp as Freddy Krueger’s razors. The bear’s mouth was wide open in a snarl and big enough to bite off one of their heads.
They all screamed in unison and bumped into each other in an effort to move out of swiping range. It wasn’t until they realized that the bear was wearing a pink tutu that they knew they were safe. It was a dead stuffed grizzly.
Embarrassed, they laughed self-consciously and shoved each other towards it.
Nicky poked it with a finger. “Jesus. The things people do when they have money.”
Jimmy smirked. “Hopefully they spent plenty of it on alcohol. Locating that is priority numero uno.” He shone the flashlight ahead of him.
Skeeter grinned. “This is a rush, man.”
Jimmy slapped him on the back. “Ain’t it though?”
Skeeter was about to slap him back when he heard something. “What was that?”
“Just Nicky crapping his pants over that bear,” Jimmy said.
“No. I definitely heard something,” Skeeter whispered and surveyed the chalet. It had a spacious open living area on the first floor with very few places to hide. Except for a huge, leather sectional and a TV, which was at least sixty inches, the living room was relatively uncluttered. Although the place was empty, something didn’t feel right. “You’re sure the owners aren’t here and only out for dinner?”
“I already told you a hundred times the Allens only come up here to ski. Do you see snow outside?”
Skeeter frowned. “But there’s something not right.”
“What is it?” Jimmy asked, curious now.
“I don’t know.” Skeeter glanced around the room again and realized it wasn’t anything he could see; it was something he felt. “Does it feel cold in here?”
“No.”
“That’s the problem. It’s got to be seventy degrees.”
“So?”
“So, who leaves the heat on when they’re never here?”
All three boys pondered on it for a moment, weighing the odds.
Then Nicky grabbed Skeeter’s arm. “What’s that noise?”
Jimmy turned his head to listen. “It’s coming from downstairs.”
Nicky started for the front door. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Wait a sec,” Jimmy said, grinning at them. “I bet the Allens left the TV on in the basement. It’s a cheap man’s alarm system. I’ve seen it plenty of times.”
“That doesn’t explain why the heat is on,” Skeeter whispered. He didn’t care now if they thought he was a chicken. He was ready to go.
“You’re spooked because of the bear,” Jimmy said. “They probably left the heat on so the pipes don’t freeze. Let’s check the downstairs. Then you’ll see there’s nothing to worry about.”
On the other side of the bear, an open door led to a set of basement stairs. Pale light glowed at the bottom of the stairs and flickered.
“Like I told you. It’s just a TV,” Jimmy crowed. “Who’s going first?”
Jimmy was a master at volunteering other peoples’ services when there was a job he didn’t want to handle. Before he had a chance to challenge him, Skeeter said, “It’s all yours, Jimmy. Unless you’re scared.”
Jimmy laughed at them, but it lacked his usual pluckiness. He hesitated at the top of the stairs and stared down the depth of it as if he were about to dive into freezing water. He flipped the light switch on the wall next to him. Nothing happened. “That’s weird. The power has to be working because the TV is on.”
He shined the flashlight to the bottom of the stairs before inching his way down. He gripped the handrail running on the right side of the stairs as if it were a safety line. When he finally reached the bottom step, he turned to look up at them and flipped them off before he disappeared around the corner.
A second later, they heard a thud and a loud oompf, like air being forced out of lungs, followed by a crash and the snap of wood breaking.
Then it went quiet.
Skeeter and Nicky turned to each other, horror registering on both of their faces. With apprehension, they looked back down the stairs.
Skeeter hissed, “Knock it off, Jimmy. That’s not funny.”
Nicky nudged Skeeter, pushing him toward the stairs.
The light went out, and they heard a soft swoosh as if a glass sliding door had just opened.
“Stop messing around, Jimmy, and get your ass up here.” Nicky’s voice was much higher than usual.
When Jimmy didn’t respond, Skeeter said, “We should go down there.”
Nicky’s eyes were wide. “You go first.”
They peered down the stairs into the blackness. A dim beam of light rolled into view. It was Jimmy’s flashlight.
Skeeter didn’t want to do it, but he started to make his way down the stairs. Nicky followed right behind him, so close he could hear him breathing.
Nicky whispered into his ear, “I’m going to kill him if this is a prank.”
Skeeter sure hoped it was a prank.
When he reached the bottom step, Skeeter poked his head around the corner. Movement caught Skeeter’s eye. A curtain fluttered in the wind. Someone had left the patio door wide open. He picked up the flashlight and shined it around the room. Jimmy lay on his back in the middle of a broken coffee table. He wasn’t moving.
Chapter Fifty-Three
The cold woke Abbey. She was curled up in a fetal position on the bathroom floor clutching a towel. It felt late, but she had no idea what time it was. Standing, she brushed her teeth to rid her mouth of its nasty, sour taste and washed her face.
Walking into her bedroom, she stared out of her window into the darkness. Somewhere out there in the menacing night lurked her mother’s killer. She could feel it. Feel his seething rage radiating out from the woods to destroy her. But his anger was no match for what burned inside her. It was time to make Scotty Pepper pay.
Without turning on the lights, she changed into black clothing and crept downstairs to her uncle’s office where he kept his gun safe. She’d spied on him one night as he put his weapon in there and knew the code. Opening the locked door, she found just what she needed—a box of 9mm cartridges. Next, she turned off the security lights at the electrical panel and ran over to the barn, making sure to stay off the gravel.
Granite fidgeted in his stall, clearly agitated about something. He came to greet her. She ran a hand down his neck to soothe his nerves before heading toward the tack room and the shelf where she kept her father’s gun.
“Abbey?” a disembodied voice called softly from the gloom.
Startled, she jumped and was about to scream out for Po when a familiar voice said, “It’s Jesse.”
“What the hell?” she hissed as he stepped out of the murkiness. In the faint moonlight filtering in from the windows above, she saw a flash of white teeth as he grinned. “What are you doing here?”
“I knew you’d come out to feed the horses at some point.”
“I did that hours ago.”
“It feels like I’ve been waiting hours. Your uncle told me what happened last night. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yes. It is. I s
hould have walked you home.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
She heard his concern. “I’m pissed, but Scotty Pepper is not going to scare me.”
“You saw him?”
“Not exactly, but I just know in my bones it was him.” She walked into the tack room, heading right for the shelves and took down the box that contained her father’s gun.
Jesse came in, closed the door and turned on his flashlight. “What are you doing?”
As she pulled out the gun, he shined the beam on her hands. “What are you planning to do with that?”
She released the magazine and pushed in the cartridges. “I’m going to pay Scotty Pepper a visit and force him to tell me the truth.”
“That’s a bad idea.”
She continued loading the gun. “No one else is going to do it.”
“Holy shit, Abbey. Not only has he been trained for combat and to withstand interrogation by terrorists, but he’s going to have guns bigger than that tiny thing.”
She held up the loaded Kahr K9. “But I’ll have the advantage of surprise and get to him before he gets to his weapons.”
“Are you nuts? You’re gonna get killed messing with that guy.”
“I need something I can use against him before I go crazy.”
Jesse reached out and wrapped his hand around her gun hand. “This isn’t the way to do it, believe me. I know.”
At his touch, something fluttered soft and light inside her, something contrary to her roiling anger. “What do you mean?”
His eyes never wavered from hers. “Where I grew up. People got shot. Just trust me. This isn’t the way.”
“I have to get proof.”
“I know, but not this way.”
His fingers touched the back of her hand.
Her grip tightened on the gun. “Jesse. Don’t.”
His thumb caressed her wrist. “Trust me. You don’t need it.”
“No. I do.” Although she protested, her grip loosened a bit.
“That’s good, Abbey. Just let it go,” he whispered.
She didn’t want to, but her fingers opened as if they had a will of their own, and he took it from her.
Leaning forward, she rested her head on his chest. Wrapping his arm around her, he whispered into her hair, “It’s going to be okay.”
“It’s never going to be okay, Jesse. Why doesn’t anyone get that?”
After a minute or so, she stepped away and watched him eject the magazine, place it and the gun back in the box and return it to the top shelf. “I’m still going over there. I’m going to find proof he knew Mrs. Milbourne, just like he knew my mother. But I’m going to do this on my own. I don’t want you to get into any more trouble.”
“There’s no way you’re going on your own.”
“This is my fight,” she said, pointing to her chest with her thumb. “Not yours. I’m going alone.”
“If you leave without me, I’ll go get Po.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Just try me.”
She eyed him for a moment, trying to judge how far he would go and decided he was serious. “If we get into trouble, don’t blame me.”
“I won’t,” he said and followed her out of the tack room.
“Just tell me your bike is parked somewhere near here.”
“In the bushes at the end of your driveway.”
“Great. Let’s go but be quiet. Po has the hearing of a freaking bat.”
She took a convoluted route from the back of the barn through the woods to the road. He didn’t have a spare helmet, so he made her wear his. She gave him directions, then climbed up behind him. The bike snarled to life, its engine loud and demanding. A thrum of excitement surged through her.
Wrapping her arms around him, she squeezed to let him know she was ready. Secretly, she was glad he’d insisted on going with her. He clicked the bike into gear with his foot, and she felt his leg muscle bunch with the motion. A shiver ran up her spine. He barely revved the bike, keeping the noise to a minimum. As they moved away from the property, he picked up speed, and the wind played with his hair.
Five minutes later, she tapped him on the shoulder to indicate he should pull over. “Let’s hide the bike here. Pepper lives over there.” She pointed to an overgrown driveway with a dented mailbox that hung suspended from a tree by chains. “I can’t see any lights on, and his truck’s not there. Where could he be at this time of night? It would be interesting to know what he’s up to. After this, we should cruise around and see if we can find him.”
Jesse nodded his consent.
They walked cautiously toward the house. “How about we check out that RV first?” she suggested. The door was locked, but Abbey walked to the back of it. “Hey. Look at this. The window is covered in plastic.” She picked at a strip of duct tape, and before he could stop her, she tore back the protective covering, ripping the corner of the plastic.
“Abbey. He’s going to notice that.”
“So what. Come on. Help me get up here,” she muttered, gripping the metal window frame and holding her foot out for a boost.
“This is a seriously bad idea.”
“Got a better one?”
He shook his head and cupped his hands, hoisting her up high enough so she could scramble in. She landed with a loud thump and knocked over something that rolled and clanked.
“Jesus. Can you make any more noise?”
“Did any lights come on in the house?” she asked.
“No.”
He handed her the flashlight through the gaping hole. In one fluid motion, he pulled himself up and over the cold aluminum frame, landing with far more grace than she had.
They walked the length of the Airstream, and Jesse said, “This is cool. Must be his office.”
“What’s all that stuff?” she said, heading for the desk.
Jesse picked up a pair of bulky binoculars. “Looks like night vision gear.”
“That’s real creepy,” she said. “Something a killer would use to spy on his victims.”
Jesse replaced the binoculars. “He’s a PI. He would need it for surveillance.”
“Yeah, and that’s the perfect cover if someone catches him spying.” She glanced around the RV. “Hey! Look at these shoeboxes.” Moving to the other side of the desk, she lifted a lid. “Invoices,” she read out loud. “Here, hold the flashlight.” She licked her finger and started rifling through the pile of invoices and business receipts. In the second box, she found what she had been so desperately seeking. “Here it is,” she said, flapping a sheet of paper at him. “I found an invoice addressed to Mimi Milbourne. I knew we’d find something incriminating. What are the chances he’d know two murdered women?”
Jesse shrugged. “A town this size. It could happen.”
She folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket. “But Mrs. Milbourne didn’t live here all the time, which makes it less likely. Let’s check his house.”
“Not a good idea. He could come home any time.”
Jesse had a point. Besides, she had the evidence now. “How about we just peek in a few windows?”
“Make it fast.”
She went out through the door, not caring that she was leaving it unlocked. As they walked up a narrow path leading to the cabin, Jesse said, “Did you hear that?” He turned to check behind them with his flashlight. From deep in the forest, something glinted back at them. “What’s that over there?”
Abbey squinted. “It’s a shed.”
“A woodshed?” he asked.
“Not that far back in the trees. If I had anything to hide, it would be back there.” The excitement was unmistakable in her voice. “Let’s check it out.”
Abbey switched on her flashlight. The shed had seen better days, but there was a brand-new padlock on the door that had caught the flashlight’s beam.
“Can you smash it open?” Abbey asked as he studied the lock.
“No. It will make too
much noise.”
Abbey walked all around the shed, checking for another way in, and came back to the door. “No windows. This is weird.”
He said, “It has to be for storing wood.”
“Who locks up their logs?” she asked with a hint of disdain. “Give me the light.” She walked around it again, this time with the light shining on the planks. Bending down to inspect a board, she gave one of them a good yank. The board came loose. Straightening up, she kicked at it and freed it.
“Shush! Can you make any more noise?” Jesse glanced over his shoulder to the driveway. “You’re pushing our luck.”
“No one is here.”
“They could have heard it in town. You kick harder than your horse.”
She grinned. “Shut up and hand me the flashlight.”
He did.
Abbey dropped to the ground, shined the beam and peered inside. “This is weird. There’s a sleeping bag, a plastic crate with a couple of tins of tuna on it, some water bottles and a box of saltines.” She glanced up at him. “I bet Pepper keeps hostages here.”
“Come on,” Jesse whispered. “We need to get out of here before he comes back.”
“Hold on.” She repositioned herself on the ground and redirected the beam of light. “I can see the butt of a gun.”
“He’s a soldier. He’s bound to have some guns.”
“There’s something not right about this place, Jesse. I’m getting a bad vibe.”
“No kidding. But who is going to lock someone up and leave weapons in there? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I’ll tell you another thing that doesn’t make sense,” a deep voice rumbled from somewhere out of the dark. “And that’s what the hell you’re doing on my property.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Startled by the low, threatening voice behind her, Abbey dropped the flashlight. It clattered to the floorboards inside the wooden hut and rolled out of reach, but there was enough moonlight to see the handgun trained on Jesse.
“You on the ground,” the man hissed. “Stand up. Real easy.”
Abbey weighed her options. She could refuse. She could make a run for it, or she could confront Scotty Pepper and get him to confess.
Lonesome Lake Page 26
