Jed made a grab for Hannah too late. A squeak came from the back of her throat, and she listed to the side.
He grabbed her shoulders from behind and pulled her back, toward him, toward the store. “Stay out of the blood. I’ll check his pulse. Get on the phone.”
His staccato voice seemed to snap her out of a trance. Her collapsing frame suddenly straightened, and she took a step back. She dug for her phone as he crept forward, avoiding the puddle of blood as it lazily meandered farther and farther from Nate’s body.
Jed placed two fingers against the side of Nate’s neck. A feeble pulse trembled beneath his fingers. “He’s still alive, Hannah. Tell the 911 operator.”
As Hannah spoke on the phone, Jed leaned in close toward Nate’s lips, which had cracked open. Jed whispered, “Who did this, Nate?”
The man’s eyelids fluttered, and a bubble of blood formed at his mouth.
Jed put his ear closer to the dying man’s lips. “Say it, Nate. Who attacked you?”
Nate’s mouth gaped like a fish a few times, and then he growled out, “Ad, ad.”
“Ad? Adam? Adam who?”
The effort proved too much for Nate, and he lost consciousness, his mouth slack, more blood trickling from the corner.
Jed scooped a T-shirt with the liquor store’s name on it from a box and used it to apply pressure to the bloody wound from which Nate’s life force was slowly leaking.
Hannah hovered above him. “Is he still alive?”
“He’s gone.”
“Ambulance is on the way.” A wail of sirens from the street punctuated Hannah’s words, and she spun around. “I’ll direct them back here.”
When the EMTs arrived, Jed finally scooted away from the body, leaving the blood-soaked T-shirt still bunched in Nate’s midsection.
Once the ambulance arrived, the floodgates opened. The cops arrived, and a crowd of people followed in their wake, their heads bobbing outside the front windows, trying to get a peek.
Jed and Hannah dealt with the cops’ questions, Hannah giving him a sharp look when he told them that Nate had named Ad as the culprit with what would probably be his dying breaths.
They also referred the Whidbey officers to Detective Howard Chu, letting them know the knife attack on Nate could be related to the murders on Dead Falls Island.
After another hour of grilling, the cops let them leave the store. They slipped into a dark bar across the street, where Jed scrubbed at Nate’s bloodstains on his shirt.
Hannah ordered a glass of wine while Jed got a glass of water, hoping to rinse the metallic taste of blood from his mouth.
Hannah took two long slugs from her glass and planted her elbows on the bar. “Who the hell is Ad and how did he get to Nate? How’d he know we were here? Did someone follow us from the ferry?”
Jed sucked down his second glass of water and tapped the mahogany surface of the bar for another. “How’d he know we were at the Keldorf place?”
“I don’t understand how we could’ve been followed there and here—not that I was looking for a tail. Were you?”
“I should’ve been after the fire at the Keldorf barn.”
Jed rolled the glass between his hands, wiping away the moisture on the outside with his palms. The chill reached his spine. “Unless he’s not tailing us.”
“What do you mean?” Hannah downed the rest of her wine in one gulp.
“He showed up at the Keldorf property after we did. He manages to get to Whidbey Island and knows about Nate Keldorf and his liquor store. He didn’t have to be following us. He could have a tracker on one of us.”
Hannah’s fingers curled around the stem of her wineglass, her knuckles white. “How?” Then something dawned on her. “We took your truck both times.”
“Exactly.” He drummed his thumbs against the bar. “As a PI, I feel kind of amateur that I allowed someone to track my truck.”
“First of all, we’re not sure about that. Second, why would you think someone would slap a GPS on your truck? If he’s involved with this case, the Keldorf case or both, he wouldn’t have to be a genius to figure out, both times, where we were going. Watching us head to Whidbey, he must’ve figured we were coming here to talk to Nate.” Hannah raised her finger in the air. “You care if I order another glass of wine? The first one barely made a dent in my nervous system.”
“Go ahead.” Jed plowed a hand through his hair. “What I don’t understand is why kill Nate? Why not try to prevent us from talking to him in the first place? How did this guy know Nate wasn’t going to spill the beans to us at our first meeting? If Nate had told us during our first conversation about this Adam, or whoever, he didn’t need to die.”
“Maybe Nate’s killer was following us here on the island. If he were waiting for us outside the liquor store or saw our interaction with Nate inside, he would’ve known we didn’t get what we came here for. He could’ve watched us get a bite to eat, watched Nate try to close up his store and figured we were going back.” Hannah thanked the bartender for her second glass of wine and took a small sip. “Or maybe it was just revenge for talking to us.”
“I didn’t even ask if you knew an Adam on Dead Falls.”
“If that’s even what Nate was trying to say. Maybe Aidan.” Hannah ran a finger around the rim of her glass. “It’s a start, though. When we get back, I’m going to get Maggie’s help and start digging into the files on the Keldorfs’ foster children and their families.”
“Do you think she’ll allow it? Will it get her into trouble?”
Hannah patted her chest. “I’m a child therapist. I’m treating two children of murdered parents. I could easily get access if I went through the proper channels. Maggie knows this. She won’t deny me.”
Jed cocked his head at Hannah. That second glass of wine was going to her head. “Why wouldn’t you go through proper channels?”
“It would take too long. It’s sort of like how PIs can make inroads where the police can’t.” She raised her glass to her lips and winked. “We don’t have to play by the same rules.”
Jed raised his eyebrows. “Okay, we need to get out of here and get back to Dead Falls. I’m sure Chu is going to have some questions for us about Nate’s murder...or at least he should.”
Hannah thunked down her glass suddenly. “Are we late? Do we still have a ride back to Dead Falls?”
“I texted my guy a while ago. He’s good for any time. He has a place to stay on Dead Falls when he makes late runs like this.” He tapped her glass. “Finish up if you still feel like you need it. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you steady on the boat—or least keep you from falling overboard.”
“Thanks.” She pressed a hand over her eyes. “Although I’m not sure I’m ever going to get the picture of Nate and all that blood out of my head.”
He covered her hand with his. “I know. I’m sorry you had to see it. I’m even sorrier we led Nate’s killer to his store.”
“I feel guilty, too.” Hannah gulped. “But how could we know we were putting his life in danger? Do you think that’s another reason he changed his name? To escape this Ad person?”
“I don’t know. He sure seemed nervous about someone, but if he knew who the real killer was, why didn’t he tell the police years ago? Why allow that stain on his brother to stand?”
“I knew you were innocent. I just couldn’t prove it.” And with that, Hannah drained her glass.
The ride back to Dead Falls was cold and miserable, and Jed gave up his jacket to Hannah, keeping his arm locked around her trembling frame. When they docked, he gave a sigh of relief when he spotted his truck in the parking lot under a light. With someone following them, he didn’t know what he expected.
He unlocked the doors with the key fob, and then handed it to Hannah. “Hop inside and start the engine to get the heater going.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to check for a tracker.” He held up his cell phone. “I still have a detector on my phone from my PI days in LA.”
“This I gotta see.”
Jed crouched down and directed his phone along the chassis of his truck as he squat-walked around the back of it. His phone started beeping, and he reached into the wheel well and felt around the oily surface. His fingers stumbled across a plastic rectangle, and he yanked it from the undercarriage.
He rose to his feet, cupping the device in his palm where it caught the light from above. “Bingo.”
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Hannah groaned and dragged a pillow over her face. Two glasses of wine and a murder had left her dehydrated, drained and desperate. When she didn’t feel Siggy’s morning presence, she opened one eye and squinted at the foot of her bed. She cleared her throat and rasped, “Siggy, kitty.”
Rolling to her side, she caught sight of a glass of water on her nightstand and a dark green gelcap. As she sat up to grab the water, the distinct aroma of bacon wafted up the stairs and floated into her bedroom.
No wonder Siggy had hightailed it downstairs. Hannah curled her hand around the glass and popped the ibuprofen in her mouth, swallowing it with a gulp of water.
Jed had insisted on staying the night with her and had also insisted on sleeping in the spare room, despite her best efforts to seduce him into her bed. He had a firm rule about not sleeping with women who were over the legal limit.
She downed the rest of the water and scooted out of bed. As she tottered down the stairs, gripping the banister, she called out, “You didn’t have to make breakfast.”
When she reached the kitchen, Jed turned with a pair of tongs in his hand and Siggy twirling around his ankles. He snapped the tongs together. “Siggy made me do it.”
“You’d better not be feeding that cat any bacon.” She shook her finger at him, and then inhaled the scent of the coffee brewing. “But I can forgive you since you did make coffee and leave me some water.”
He pointed to the kitchen table, set with the sunflower place mats and a jar of flowers in the center. “Sit.”
Pulling out a chair, she raised her eyebrows. “How long have you been up, and when did you get so domestic?”
“I’m trying.” He held up the pot of coffee. “Cream? Sugar?”
“The works, but grab me some sweetener.” She planted an elbow on the table and balanced her chin in her palm. “How do you have so much energy after the night we had?”
“I wish you meant that in a good way.” He winked at her. “I already talked to Chu this morning. He’s not happy that we went looking for Nate Keldorf.”
“Of course he isn’t, but does he admit now that the Keldorf murder is somehow connected to these current murders?”
Jed lifted his shoulders as he delivered a mug of coffee to her, the surface a swirl of white cream. He dropped several packets of sweetener on the table next to the cup. “He said he’s going to put a guy on it.”
“One guy?” She ripped open a packet and dumped the crystals into her coffee.
“They’re busy tracking down a woman who complained about Chase Thompson.”
“You told him Nate’s dying words about someone named Ad, right?”
“I did.” Jed laid out the remaining bacon on some paper towel and divided the scrambled eggs between two plates. “Can you find out the names of the surviving Keldorf fosters today?”
“I think I can. Maggie doesn’t play it by the book all the time. I’m sure she can get me in the database.”
“I think it’s about time we get the story from those two. Find out if they know someone named Adam or Aidan, or something like that.” He sat beside her and dug his fork into the pile of yellow eggs on his plate. “They’re probably not going to be too happy about being tracked down, but maybe they’ll be more willing to talk to us than the cops, anyway.”
“Yeah, ’cause we did such a great job with Nate.” She slurped up some coffee, her eyes meeting Jed’s over the rim.
“Not our fault, Hannah.” He pushed her plate toward her. “Eat. We’re going to have a busy day.”
When they finished breakfast, Jed had a few appointments to get to—including a stop to buy ammo for her gun. After watching Nate bleed out last night in the back of his store, Hannah didn’t think Jed was overreacting anymore.
After she cleaned up the kitchen and fed Siggy a proper meal, she showered and dressed in work clothes. Then she went out to her office, taking that thumb drive from her father’s things with her. In between a little work, she planned to plug that in and see what her father felt was so important to keep from Jed’s case.
As she inserted the key into the dead bolt, a snap of twigs had her spinning around, clutching the keys like a weapon.
Dr. Robbins held up his hands. “Sorry. Did I frighten you?”
His unctuous smile did nothing to slow down her pulse. She pressed a hand to her heart that was thumping in her chest. Why did she think his face was pleasant? “Dr. Robbins! You did scare me. Where did you come from?”
She peered over his shoulder, hoping to see someone else with him. How did he even know she had her office back here—out of sight of the road?
“I was just driving by on my way to my office, saw your car out front and thought I’d drop in.”
Hannah tilted her head. There were probably about three things wrong with his explanation, but she wasn’t going to cross-examine him. She licked her dry lips and stood in front of her office door. If she had to make a run for it, she didn’t want to be trapped in that office with only one way in and out.
“The children? Did you want to discuss the children?”
He shifted from one foot to the other, the soles of his expensive shoes out of place on the unpaved entrance to her office. “Not the children so much, but the...mothers.”
He just couldn’t get over those unfit mothers. She buried her hand in the folds of her voluminous skirt, still clutching her keys between her fingers. “If you know something about the mothers, you should probably talk to the sheriff’s department.”
“Oh, not in that way.” He rubbed at a spot on his forehead, brushing a dark curl out of the way. “I just want to clarify what I meant yesterday when I said those kids might be better off without their mothers. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“It sounded...”
“Cruel and unfeeling.” He hung his head, as if in shame, but the quick glance up to monitor her response ruined it. “Sometimes when I talk to other professionals about patients, I lose my bedside manner. You know, I treat children who have injuries and illness due to neglectful parents. Sometimes I direct that anger at the parents—only in my head. I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”
If he didn’t want her to get the wrong impression, he should’ve never shown up at her place like this. “I understand. We all see things we’d rather not. It’s difficult not to blame the parents, but...”
“You’re absolutely right. We can judge them, but nobody deserved to die like those two women did.” He brushed a speck of something from his jacket. “Did we clear the air?”
“I’m not sure it needed clearing, Dr. Robbins.” She turned her body sideways to her office door. “I do need to get to work.”
“Of course. I’ve heard such good reports of you. Sorry to take up so much of your time.” He crunched back down the path, and then cranked his head over his shoulder. “You’ll let me know if you need to consult with me about those children.”
“Yes, I will.” She held her breath until he disappeared about the corner. Then she pushed into her office, slammed the door behind her and locked it. “That was creepy.”
She sank into the chair she used with the older kids. She usually sat on the floor with the young ones. A white disk slipped onto the floor and bounced onto the area rug. She dropped to her knees to retrieve it.
After discovering the tracker on Jed’s truck, she’d had the bright idea of putting one of those GPS tags in Sheldon’s shoe and tracking it on her phone, in case he took flight again. She slipped the disk into her pocket and backed up into the chair again as she placed a call to Maggie. She listened to the recorded message before leaving her own.
She patted the other pocket of her skirt and pulled out her father’s thumb drive. As she made a move toward her laptop, Maggie called her back.
“Hey, Maggie. Did that message make sense to you?”
“It did. Don’t you already have a log-in to the CPS database?”
“Only on an as-needed basis depending on my patient.”
“Well, I’d say this is one of those cases. Both of those children have files with CPS. No reason why you shouldn’t get in there and look at them.”
“Thanks, Maggie. How do we do that?” Hannah bit her bottom lip. She didn’t say, and Maggie didn’t correct her, that she had access only through a social worker, usually Maggie, who printed out the files for her.
Maggie huffed out a breath. “Look, I can talk to IT about a temp password, but that could take forever. You can use my log-in credentials.”
Hannah collapsed back into the deep, soft chair. “Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”
“No, you’re a lifesaver for those kids, Hannah Maddox. I’ll e-mail you the link and my username and password. How many days do you think you’ll need? I’m going to have to change my password when you’re done. You understand.”
“Absolutely. Give me two days, Maggie.”
“You got it. Relatives of Sheldon and Chrissy are incoming any day now. It will be up to them to decide if they want the kids to continue their sessions with you.”
“If they don’t, I can recommend someone wherever they land with those children.”
“Excellent. Look out for the e-mail, and I’ll talk to you soon.”
Hannah tilted her head back and yelled at the ceiling. “Yes!”
She launched out of the chair and swept the laptop from her desk. She brought it back to the chair with her, balanced it on the overstuffed arm and powered it on.
She drummed her fingers on the keyboard, waiting for Maggie’s e-mail to come through. As she watched the blinking cursor, she burrowed into her skirt pocket and pulled out the thumb drive. She skimmed her fingers along the side of her computer, feeling for the port. Tracing the rectangular opening, she fed the thumb drive into the side of the laptop.
She double-clicked to open the file and blinked at some security footage that showed the front of a store.
Her computer dinged at her, and she switched to her e-mail. She double clicked on Maggie’s message, copied and pasted the link she’d been sent into a browser and entered Maggie’s username and password. She rubbed her hands together as she watched the CPS database come to life on her screen.
Hannah ran the cursor across the tabs at the top of the window and zeroed in on the archives tab. She hadn’t confirmed with Maggie, but she hoped the archives went back thirty years. She clicked on the green tab, and a list of year ranges popped up on the screen.
With her breath coming in short spurts, she scrolled down and clicked on the link for the Keldorf murder years. The tab for the Keldorf family jumped out at her immediately. They’d had a long, successful history with CPS as foster parents, but it had ended in disaster. They exhibited no problems before this massacre. CPS wasn’t a law enforcement agency, so the database included just a brief summary of the facts—but she knew the facts. She wanted names.
Hunching forward, she trailed her finger down the screen, jabbing it when she reached the family. She read them aloud. “Chet Keldorf, his wife—Sheila Keldorf—and the kids at the time of the murders. Four-year-old Selina, six-year-old Jacob—both dead—and the surviving siblings... Alyssa Abbott, thirteen, and her biological brother Addison Abbott, fifteen.”
Hannah grabbed a notepad and pen from the end table beside the chair and scribbled down the siblings’ names. Her pen jerked across the page. Addison Abbott? Not Adam. Addison.
Nate Keldorf didn’t fear the parents of one of these foster kids—he feared the kid.