I followed Rebecca out into the backyard and down to the gifts table, where everyone had positioned themselves near heaters with cups in their hands, a few of them trembling from the cold. It was a sign of how out of touch the Cooks were that they thought hosting a birthday barbecue was appropriate in this weather.
But the barbecue was on hold.
Jackson sat on a chair in the center of a wide circle of friends and family, gifts all around him. Hazel stood behind his chair, grinning from ear-to-ear.
“Thank you all for being here today,” Jackson said, apparently unaware of the chill in the air. He had on a tank top, for Pete’s sake. “I just appreciate all the love and support we’ve received so much. Everyone in Star Lake is so kind. Thank you.”
“All right, all right,” someone shouted. “Let’s see what you got already.”
The group chuckled.
Hazel glanced around the gathered people, offering a few of them direct smiles. She looked confident, but when she spotted Rebecca watching, her smile faltered. It had to be tough for her, helping her husband start a new business with the Bakers group breathing down their necks.
I didn’t feel pity for her if she’d murdered Nora, though. But the motive was there.
Hazel grabbed a present from the pile and held it out. The package was long, thin and rectangular, and wrapped in silver gift wrap. “This one’s from me, honey bunny,” she purred.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Jackson gave her a kiss on the cheek. He unwrapped the gift at a leisurely pace, enjoying the attention from all his guests. A black box emerged from within, and he held it aloft. “What’s this?” He shook it next to one ear and then the other. “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like a watch.”
A few people chuckled.
“You’ll like it,” Hazel said. “I promise.
Jackson opened the box and revealed a slim, stainless steel knife with a silver hilt within. A chef’s knife.
One I would recognize from a mile away.
Because it was the very same knife I had received from my father, a month ago on my birthday. And Hazel had given it to Jackson.
Two knives missing from the case. One used to stab the victim. The other was taken.
Fireplace in the house. A burned soggy glove? Did Hazel drop it by accident? On purpose? The Bakers group logo torn off the glove because she was angry at the time?
I circled the outside of the group, getting as close to Jackson as possible as he cooed over the knife. “It’s amazing. Gorgeous.” He held it upright, and I caught the glimmer of my initials at the base of the blade. M.P.
Nobody else noticed, but, of course, they weren’t looking for it.
“My wife sure knows how to shop for gifts,” Jackson said. “I hope this didn’t cost you too much.”
“Oh, honey bunny, you know it’s not polite to ask how much a gift cost.” Hazel tittered a laugh, her gaze darting left and right, nervously.
Was she insane? Why would she have given that knife, with my initials, to her husband? She had to have heard by now that the knives were mine. Did she not realize that I would spot it?
“All right,” Jackson said, setting the knife aside on the table. He clapped his hands. “Next gift!”
The crown laughed again, and Hazel handed him the next gift. Their backs were to the table as he unwrapped it, and I circled toward them quickly, removing my phone from my pocket. I snapped a picture of the knife once I was within range, then backed up, hurriedly.
“What are you doing?” Luca asked, in my ear.
“Do you make a habit of sneaking up on women?” I asked.
“Definitely not. But you’re easy to surprise.”
I glanced at Hazel and Jackson then back at Luca. “I need your help,” I whispered. “Make sure that Hazel stays here. I’ve got to make a call.”
“Stays here? Why?”
“I don’t have time to explain. Just… if she tries to run, tackle her to the ground.”
The one corner of Luca’s mouth quirked up. “Tackle her.”
“Please.”
He opened his mouth then closed it again. Finally, he said, “OK.”
“Thank you.” I zipped off toward the back door of the house, taking the stairs two at a time and not bothering to glance back. I had to trust that Luca would do the right thing if Hazel tried to take off.
I navigated back toward the living room and directly to the fireplace. I grabbed the metal fire poker and poked around in the logs, carefully, but there was nothing there. No burnt remnants of—
“Got you,” I whispered.
Near the front of the grate, furthest from the fire, as if it had been thrown toward the logs but fallen just short, was a charred swatch of fabric. On it was the half-burned word, “Bak–” in that swirling text.
I took a picture of that too, then sent both of the images to Detective Freedman via text.
Nothing put a damper on a birthday party quite like the hosts being arrested.
Detective Freedman had arrived in a blaze of… blue and red lights, not so much glory, and had arrested both Jackson and Hazel Cook under conspiracy to commit murder. Jackson was a surprise to me.
I watched from the front steps of the house as Hazel was ushered into the back of a police car, her friends and family watching. Jackson was in another car, red in the face, and glaring around, challenging anyone who looked his way with his stares.
“What have you done?” Luca asked. “Gone and solved another murder case?”
He had appeared beside me like a wraith out of the fog again. Why was he so good at that? It was seriously creepy. Or maybe it was creepy that I was pleasantly surprised by it every time.
“It depends on if I’m right,” I said. “The evidence points toward Hazel. Jackson, I’m not so sure about.”
“The police must have evidence against him if they’re arresting him, right?”
“Yeah.” I hoped so. My experience with the Detective hadn’t been great so far. “Oh, did you have to tackle her?”
“Nope. She didn’t hear the cops coming until they were right on top of her,” Luca said. “People were cheering the fact that Jackson got a new fishing rod on his request when the cops arrived.”
“Lucky.”
“Eh, I don’t know,” Luca said. “I played football. It would’ve been fun to tackle Jackson, at least, if he made a run for it.”
I laughed.
Luca was so open, so willing to make conversation and talk about his past. He was unlike me in just about every way, and I was starting to think that was a good thing.
The police cars holding the accused drove off. I didn’t doubt the cops would chase us all off after taking our details for witness statements. Soon, Gran and I would be back at her place. We’d bring Waffle along, invite Sue over, have some lunch and celebrate the fact that my name was clear again.
And Luca would be gone. I’d see him at the cafe again, probably. Or maybe I’d run into him. Or…
“Luca,” I said, forcing myself to turn to him.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to grab coffee sometime?” My pulse thundered along. He could so easily reject me, just like I’d done to him.
His tan, handsome face lit up. “I thought you’d never ask.”