by Patti Larsen
Yeah, not so lucky this time, was I? Instead of a quick and easy whoopsie dead man crashing, I hung there, panting and doing my best not to throw up all over his slowly cooling corpse, his bulging eyes staring at me like this was all my fault for at least fifteen years.
Maybe ten minutes. It just felt like half my life. The only glimmer of a silver rim to this particularly uncomfortable and nightmare inducing process was the fact Crew was there with me the whole time, his cool, calm voice never once letting me go.
I clung to the sound of it as he spoke, alternating between addressing me hanging on the line—with Lewis pressed against me despite my best attempts to keep him at arm’s length—and using his cell phone to call for help. Have you ever tried to push a dead body away from you, one that has at least fifty pounds on your weight, while sharing an overburdened zip line? Talk about a lesson in desperate futility. Hideous, anxious, terrifying, nauseating, shock-inducing futility.
“Fee, I’m right here.” Crew’s voice had that kind of level strength I instantly focused on and I did, latching onto the sound like it was the only thing keeping me from losing it entirely. “Stay with me, Fee. Jill, I need backup at the final line, now.” No anxiety, no haste, just the steady tone of his voice, soothing, comforting while I panted my way in circles around hyperventilation while the remains of Lewis bumped me over and over again. “Fee, it’s going to be okay, just hang on. I’m below you now.” I looked down, breaking the dead man’s stare, realizing my throat ached, that I’d likely done a number on my vocal chords. Odd how such thoughts cross the mind in moments of utter horror. “Fee, focus on me. You’ll be all right, I promise. Stay with me.”
His voice droned on, his blue eyes locked on mine. I barely noticed the feeling of the line releasing, the sound of other voices, only realized I was nearer the ground when he reached up with both hands and caught me. Suddenly we were surrounded by people, Jill and Robert, Matt, Jared, and I was in Crew’s arms, the carabiner unhooked from the line, helmet lifted from my head, my head tucked against his shoulder as he carried me swiftly away in long strides.
The blanket Alicia settled around my shoulders felt like a hug, though I instantly missed Crew when he released me and returned to the body, the sight of Aiden manning a winch at the top of the opposite tree telling me how I’d made it to the ground. Carmen stood off to one side with Jared, Crew and his deputies huddled over the body while Matt seemed like he was about as close to puking as I’d been.
Jared joined us as Alicia’s hand gently rubbed my back in small, anxious circles. I’m not sure who the activity was meant to help, me or her, but I appreciated the sentiment. Honestly, now that I no longer hung with the dead man’s face within kissing distance—just ew, I mean like, ewie ew grossness gag—I was quickly recovering my composure to the point I felt bubbling giggles rising in my chest at the thought of telling Daisy about what happened.
Which meant I was lying to myself about the composure thing and likely still on the edge of hysterical. Whatever.
“They’re shutting down the park.” Jared’s misery flared from personal to a wince of worry as he quickly sank to his haunches and grasped my hands, guilt in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Fee. I didn’t mean…” he swallowed hard, squeezing my fingers. “They need to shut it down.” He shook his head, forehead creasing, face ashen, aging him visibly while he struggled internally. “This is a disaster.”
“Babe, it’s not your fault.” Alicia left me and her backrub to hug him around the shoulders, his superior height making it easier for her to embrace him that way. He pushed himself up, hugging her in turn, engulfing her a moment before letting her go.
“You didn’t kill that protestor,” I said, surprised at how level my voice sounded. “You did everything right, Jared.” Cool, I wasn’t going to fall apart at any second. “Stop beating yourself up, please. Whoever murdered Lewis Brown, whether their intent was to shut down the park or not, is to blame.” I met his eyes, watched him relax somewhat, nodded. “Okay?”
Jared cleared his throat while Alicia gave me a brave smile, blinking tears from her lashes.
“Okay,” my handsome young friend said. “Are you okay, Fee?”
I’d probably freak out with a serious case of willies later and my throat ached from screaming, but otherwise, the hysterical need to cackle like a madwoman had eased and the shaking weakness I only now realized kept me from standing up was gone from my knees and thighs. I exhaled long and slow, inhaled without a quiver, nodded again. “All good.”
Matt appeared, crouched next to me, anxious expression mirrored in the tight grasp of his hands on mine. “Are you okay?” The ranger seemed distraught, and I think would have hugged me if I hadn’t leaned away from him. I was just pulling myself together and another embrace would be the end of my thin bit of control.
I nodded swiftly, smiled. Pretended. Because pretending was all I could manage.
Jill hurried over, worried frown focused on me, though when she glanced at the handsome park ranger crouched at my feet something flickered across her face that made me wonder. No time to figure out what she was thinking, though, because she bent next to Matt to take my other hand, face earnest. “Everyone scattered when we came running,” she said. “Toby’s going to check the video feed to try to track down who was here, but it’s a bit of an investigative mess.” She squeezed my hand before letting me go. “Doc Aberstock will be here shortly. He’ll need to examine your clothes where you, um. Had contact. With the victim.” Jill glanced up at Jared and Alicia. “We should probably just take them if that’s okay?”
Ten minutes later my capris and t-shirt bagged and tagged, an overlarge Zip It! sweatshirt hanging almost to my knees over a pair of pajama bottoms from the trunk of my car, I huddled in the entrance building while Dr. Aberstock gave me a quick once over.
“You’re fine,” he said with that characteristic cheeriness that usually made me feel comforted and instead, today, made me want to smack him. “A bit of rest and you’ll be right as rain.”
“Thanks,” I said through gritted teeth. “Because I’ll be sleeping anytime soon.” Every time I closed my eyes I saw Lewis staring back at me. Hello, impending insomnia. Nice to see you.
“Let me know if you need sleeping pills,” he said, patting my hand. “In the meantime, if you’ll excuse me, I have a body to examine further.” He winked at me. “You know how to find the fresh ones, Fee. He’s only been gone maybe a half hour.”
Which meant he’d likely died minutes before I’d found him. Awesome. I let the jovial doctor go without questions despite his willingness to share information, not typical of me and my usual nosiness. Except, of course, there was little doubt in my mind what killed Lewis Brown. The rope wrapped tightly around his neck, his bulging eyes and dark red face pretty much told the tale of strangulation before he’d been cut loose to lie in wait for poor, unsuspecting me.
Wait, hadn’t Aiden reported some rope missing from the entrance? Sure, Fee, start asking questions. Way to distract yourself. “At least they didn’t find any woodpeckers,” I said to no one in particular.
Carmen shot me a glare that told me she wished they had instead of a body. That made two of us.
Toby hurried inside, her sweet face pinched and worried, and she took a moment to cup my face in both hands before she settled into the office chair at the back of the building and began reviewing the security tape, Crew hanging over her shoulder. I needed to go home and now that Dr. Aberstock had my clothes and had checked me out I could go. Except, of course, I didn’t trust myself to drive just yet.
Not to mention my sense of nosey wasn’t going anywhere.
The front door burst open, Grace Perkins barging inside. Robert seemed to have his hands full with her, not to mention the taller, if less aggressive, Philip Davis. The young man who’d run into me earlier caught my eyes for only an instant before his gaze twitched away. Hang on, he’d been hot footing it from the same direction as the tree where Lewis was found. Was that
guilt on his face? He seemed intent on keeping Grace between himself and Carmen who glared at him a moment before looking away.
Grace, meanwhile, sobbed openly, both hands coming down with a loud bang on the front counter. “I demand you arrest these, these,” she inhaled a shaking breath, finger pointing at Carmen and Aiden, “murderers at once!”
Crew’s scowl as he turned wasn’t aimed at the weeping woman but at Robert whose sullen return frown wasn’t doing him any favors. When the sheriff spoke, it was firmly but with compassion.
“Ms. Perkins,” he said, “please allow Deputy Carlisle to escort you out. I’ll have questions for you shortly.”
She shrugged off Robert’s hand on her shoulder, Philip edging himself sideways and blocking my cousin’s next attempt. While normally Robert’s discomfort—especially in the presence of his boss—would make me grin in evil triumph, I could barely muster the ability to give a crap.
“Excuse me,” Carmen snapped at Grace who spun on her with a flare of anger behind her tears. Only Philip’s hand on her arm kept her from lunging at the young owner of Zip It! while the girl spoke. “Did you find any evidence of wrongdoing on our part?” She sounded furious, vibrating with it, her own tears imminent, I was sure. “Any sign of your precious woodpeckers or proof any of us did anything to hurt anyone?” She didn’t wait for an answer, her hands falling to fists at her sides, chest heaving as she visibly fought for control of herself. “We have been nothing but accommodating to a pack of rabid trolls, led by you and Mr. Brown, Miss Perkins. And you blame us for his death?” She spun until her back was to the accusing older woman, hands now clenched in front of her. To keep her from striking out? Maybe. I had a temper, so my stomach twisted in empathy for Carmen’s battle over her fury. “You’ve ruined us and for what? For nothing. The same nothing Mr. Brown died for. You have yourself to blame for that.”
Grace seemed floored by Carmen’s attack, her sobs silenced a moment before she started up again, both hands over her face, wailing loss escaping her fingers as if she tried to contain the sound with that gesture. Philip’s arm slipped around her shoulders, his face tight while Carmen took two strides past Robert and exited the room, slamming the door behind her.
“I can’t believe he’s gone.” Grace turned, hugged Philip who embraced her back. “What are we going to do without him?”
The better question was, why did the protestor die the way he did and for what motive was he killed? While possibly the reason for his untimely end, if Lewis wasn’t killed over the woodpecker issue, why was he? Who had it out for him and did it have anything to do with the park? I wrinkled my nose at myself, rubbed my arms with both hands, felt a grin try to pull at my lips despite the situation. I was obviously feeling better.
I followed Carmen outside, needing fresh air and maybe a stiff drink and some way to erase Lewis’s staring eyes from my mind, shivering as I exited into the falling afternoon. While it had been a gloriously warm day, it was still May and the disappearing sun left a chill in the air I wasn’t prepared for. I caught sight of Carmen disappearing into the trees and followed her, though I should have gone home. The impulse to try to comfort her came as a surprise, but instead of sourced from my usual busybodiness, it came from a sense of solidarity.
I’d been through what she was going through, had a dead body in my koi pond two weeks after taking over Petunia’s. Things might look grim, but I wanted my fellow female entrepreneur to know it wasn’t necessarily the end of the world. She deserved a bit of support after all this.
That intent in mind, my knees still a bit weak but my heart in the right place, I followed Carmen’s path, waving to Jill who just shrugged and let me go. It wasn’t until I passed beneath the first big maple, the last sunlight flashing over the edge of the mountain rim, I caught the flare of light on glass deeper in the woods. I stopped in my tracks, recognizing the photographer from earlier as Fleur King disappeared in the opposite direction Carmen had.
I didn’t think, my best attribute, and immediately shifted course, going after her.
***
Chapter Thirteen
I wasn’t expecting a companion in my pursuit and almost leaped out of my new sweatshirt when a big hand caught my arm and turned me around before I could make it two strides. I meeped in fear, catching myself from screaming all over again when I realized it was Matt staring down at me, his handsome face tight with concern.
“Fee, where are you going?” His hand slid down to grasp my fingers, holding me in place with that simple touch. “You need to go home, lie down.” His free hand touched my cheek, tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Do you need a ride? I’m sure the sheriff can spare me if you want me to drive you to Petunia’s.”
I brushed off the odd feeling in my chest at the attention, shaking my head to clear it. What the hell was wrong with me? Yes, he was cute, and I was a bit of a mess, but seriously. Hormones? At a time like this? “There’s a photographer,” I blurted. Pointed at the trees. “She’s been taking pictures of license plates.” That was better, more focused. “She’s been lurking around.” Not that lurking was illegal and, in all honestly, there had been tons of media in the park today. But Fleur’s telephoto lens and previous activity made her suspicious to me.
Matt looked up, followed my pointing with his eye line, then nodded. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, sounding oddly like some kind of silver screen hero riding into battle. I let him go, eye rolling to myself, though sagging as I realized he was probably the better choice to pursue her considering the weakness I was feeling all of a sudden.
Stupid adrenaline had to wear off now, didn’t it?
But, instead of turning back as he’d likely intended, I instead veered and headed in my original direction, looking for Carmen. I could at least finish what I’d started and do some good before going home to collapse and hug my pug.
The path ahead split, the one on the right going deeper into the park while the left one led to the last tree and the crime scene. I suppressed a shudder but took the left fork, figuring that was likely where Carmen had gone. At least, it would have been my choice if I was her. And the need to poke around as usual outweighed the simmering fear still clinging to me. Maybe if I could find some answers—while comforting the young woman, naturally—I could help myself at the same time.
Sure, Fee. Way to make excuses for sticking your nose into Crew’s crime scene.
Though, I argued as I forced myself forward, off the side of the path to skirt the tape and under it, it was kind of my crime scene too, right? I stumbled as I circled the big tree that marked the beginning of the last line, my foot catching on something tucked between two roots and scowled with a surge of disgust at the protest sign leaning haphazardly into the depression formed by the side of the towering tree. A large partial footprint, deep in the damp soil of the root system, seemed oddly out of place. The climbing ladder to the zip line was on the other side of this tree. I looked around, frowning. No one would have any reason to be on the forward side unless.
Unless.
I reached for my phone, realized I’d left it in the car, grumbled to myself a moment while I backed carefully away from the shoe print and the sign. Likely neither had anything to do with the murder but I wasn’t taking chances, not now that Crew and I were finally making headway.
“Fee!” Matt came to a panting halt at my side, hand settling on my shoulder. I looked up at him, then pointed at the possible evidence.
“Can you photograph that?” Likely Robert or Jill already had, but still. “Just in case.”
Matt whipped out his phone and did the job, speaking in a rather excitable tone as he did. “I lost her,” he said, snapping a couple of pictures before tucking his phone away again. I guess he wasn’t used to this kind of thing like I was. And that, in itself, had the kind of hilarity to it that made me want to curl up on the couch with a pint of double chocolate chunk ice cream and drown my sorrows in sugar. He was the one with the gun and the training, after all.
“You think she’s the murderer?” He sounded so eager, so young.
I shrugged, wondering why I felt like a jaded old PI from a bad movie all of a sudden. “Doubt it,” I said, my voice raspy and aching, a perfect fit for the previous mental image. “But she might have some pictures that could help the investigation.”
“Right.” He practically bounced on his toes as he looked around. “I’ll keep looking for her. But we need to get you home.” There was that kindness again, that soft, sweet worry. I honestly didn’t know what to do about it and instead of trying to figure it out in my present state of mind, I shrugged and let him lead me to the entrance again.
Crew looked up from where he talked with Jill, a faint frown at the sight of me emerging from the trees making me want to sigh in frustration. Wait, Jill seemed to be unhappy about seeing me with Matt, too. What was wrong with people today? I stopped in front of the sheriff, crossing my arms over my chest, wishing I could find that happy sense of light excitement that had dominated the last few hours, instead feeling cold and tired and dirty and just wanting a long shower and Petunia.
“I’m going home,” I said. Crew didn’t argue, though the glance he shot at Matt told me what he was about to suggest. “I’m fine to drive. I promise.” I hesitated while the handsome sheriff leaned toward me, lips almost touching my ear.
“I’ll check on you later,” he said, deep voice gruff. “Forget about dinner for now.” Crap, right, dinner. Damn it, that made my eyes prickle with the need to cry for the lost opportunity, a surefire sign I was in no shape to carry on any kind of mealtime conversation anyway. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I refused to break down. Refused outright and utterly. No freaking way, not right here in front of Jill who seemed nervous and a bit edgy for some reason, and now Robert, Matt and least of all Crew. Nope, not doing it. Instead, I stepped firmly past him and strode like I meant it—like I had the strength to make it to my car without stumbling or collapsing or breaking into sobs—all the way to the blacktop and, miracles never cease, into the driver’s seat of my car.
