Friday, August 21
I pulled up outside the cabin, and my hands started to shake. I’d not been here since the police carted us off, and I didn’t want to ever go back inside. I had to though. There had to be something the police missed because I was going crazy. Thinking the people I trusted most in the world were capable of something so heinous was not OK with me. There had to be clues in that cabin. You couldn’t murder two people in such a violent and bloody way and not leave some sort of evidence behind.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I stilled. I slid the phone from my jeans, and my finger hovered over the screen. Kyle had already called me eight times today and I’d ignored them all. He’d never been so insistent before. On a heavy sigh, I clicked my phone to silent.
Blake’s Warrior sat in the driveway, but that wasn’t surprising. He didn’t really have anywhere else to go to get away from his family, and I thought being at his mum’s must have been awkward as hell. He couldn’t go back home to his dad’s because we all had to stay in town.
Police tape cordoned off the cabin, but the front door was open, so I guess Blake didn’t care that it was a closed crime scene. Neither did I. Usually I was a rule follower, but there was no time for that now. Someone needed to figure out what had happened—and fast. What if the murderer started coming after the rest of us?
I walked into the cabin, ignoring the thudding of my heart, and looked around for Blake. The place was a mess. Everything had been turned upside down. Sofa cushions were on the floor. Furniture had been moved. Photographs had been taken down from the walls and spread out on the side table.
Blake was by the window, staring out in a daze. I cleared my throat. His head snapped around in my direction, and he arched his eyebrow. “What’re you doing here?” he demanded.
Not letting him intimidate me, I stood up straight. Trying to prove to myself that Kyle isn’t the killer and find out who is. “What are you doing here?”
“This is my cabin. Your turn.”
“Looking for…” I trailed off, frowning. I slouched in defeat. Who was I kidding? I had less than no clue how to catch a killer. “I don’t know. Anything I can, I guess.”
Blake cocked his head to the side. “You’re looking for a murderer. What makes you think you’ll find any clues that dozens of police officers and detectives couldn’t? They’ve gone through this cabin with a fine-tooth comb, Mackenzie. There’s nothing to see here.”
“Well, they don’t have as much to lose as I do, and we don’t know they haven’t found anything.”
He sighed. “So dramatic.”
“What happened here?” I asked, ignoring his comment.
“Police would’ve been searching for the murderer’s clothes. They have the knife. It was one of ours.”
“They do?” The knife! There must be fingerprints on the knife. “And?”
“And they have the knife,” he deadpanned. “We all used them when we were cooking dinner together…and most of the other utensils, actually. Doubt they’ll find much there.”
“The point is that the killer’s prints might be on it too!”
My heart spiked with hope. Please let them find someone else’s prints.
Blake smirked, lighting up his striking blue eyes. “So what have you got planned, then? Sniffer dogs?”
“Are you going to help me or what?”
“Did I offer?” he replied, frowning.
“Fine, Blake, just stand there and look out of that window. Pretend I’m not here.”
“That’s hard to do when you’re talking to me.”
“What’s your problem?” He was being a total bastard. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing,” he grunted. “Just tired of all this shit. I want to know who killed my little brother, and I want all your friends to stop looking at me as if I did it.”
“And I want to know who killed my friends.”
“Friend,” he corrected. “You hated Josh, remember?”
I gritted my teeth. Somehow Blake had shifted the blame onto me when I was the one—the only one—who had his back. “Fine. I want to find out what happened to my friend and her boyfriend. Better?”
Ignoring that particular response, he asked, “Where do you want to look first?”
My head spun. Being around him was like being a human yo-yo; he’d reel me in and then shove me away. “You’re helping now?”
“Don’t make me change my mind, Mackenzie.”
“Right. Sorry. Well, I’ve no idea where to start. You know this place better than me. If he or she didn’t use the doors, then what about the windows?”
He folded his arms. “They were all closed—properly closed—from the inside.”
“Yes, I know that, Blake.”
“Then why are you looking there?”
I glared. He made me want to kiss him and punch him all at the same time. He was pushing my buttons, and I was seconds from snapping. Why was no one taking this as seriously as I was? I needed to check, just in case. “Just do your own bloody thing!”
Blake’s eyebrows shot up in shock. Before he could reply, I left the living room and walked into the kitchen. The kitchen was the most logical place for someone to enter or, at least, exit. The murders happened in the kitchen, and whoever did it would have needed a quick escape.
The sight of the floor that I’d seen covered in blood made me want to run back to my car, drive home as fast as I could, and hide in bed—but I couldn’t allow myself that weakness. I didn’t want to stop and think. I didn’t want to face the reality of what happened.
“Mackenzie?” Blake called. I ignored him and shoved at the little window over the sink. The handle was down, and the window didn’t budge. I was hoping the latch was broken and it would open with a little force. The police would have tried that already, of course.
“What?” I replied, shoving the wooden frame with as much force as I could muster. “Damn it!” I slammed my palm against the glass in frustration. “Why won’t it just open?” I shouted, my frustration fizzing over.
“Stop.” His strong hand gripped the top of my arm and pulled me back. “This is ridiculous. It’s not going to magically open, Mackenzie, and you’re just going to end up hurting yourself.”
I held my finger up as another thought sprung to my mind. “Maybe I’m starting in the wrong place. I should find the murderer before I find out how they did it.”
“OK, Sherlock, where are we starting?” If I were Sherlock Holmes, I would have figured it out by now. I had no absolutely no clue, not even a hint.
“A hideout.” I turned on my heel and walked out of the cabin, rubbing the ache in my chest. The killer would need somewhere to hide, to wait for the perfect moment. I was sure of it. Sort of.
Blake’s footsteps thudded behind me, crunching dried leaves on the ground. “You don’t even know where you’re going,” he said.
“No one knows where they’re going before they actually go,” I replied, power walking ahead. “If you’re just here to annoy me, then please turn around now.”
“You can’t just go wandering off into the woods by yourself.”
I stopped, turned around, and glared. “Why do you care?” Blake blew hot and cold all the time. I had no idea where I stood with him.
He was right behind me, his gaze burning into mine.
I couldn’t figure him out. Blake was a mystery and a pretty annoying one.
“Got nothing else to do,” he whispered, giving me goose bumps. His proximity made my earlier anger toward him fizzle out completely—almost completely.
“Liar.” There were probably hundreds of other things he’d rather be doing, including nothing at all.
His eyes narrowed, clearly disliking how I challenged him. “I want to find the killer too. No one else can give me answers, so why not tag along with Detective Mackenzie and see where it leads me? Besides, I can’t stand being at home.” His voice lowered at his confession. I could only imagine what it was like for both him and his mom.
“I’m sorry.”
He smiled halfheartedly and shrugged one shoulder. “What are you looking for?”
“A shed or cabin,” I replied. “Anything the killer could have been hiding in.”
“Are you expecting to find bloody clothes and the murderer’s ID too?”
“Hoping, not expecting. There any places you can show me?”
“A couple.” He walked past me, headed in a different direction.
“Do you still know the way to them?”
“Please,” he said, turning his head to smirk at me. “I’m a man.”
I followed closely behind him, weaving around the trees. The deeper we walked into the woods, the darker it became and the more I wanted to head back. “Are you sure this is the way?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.
“What do you think, I’m leading you into the middle of nowhere to slit your throat?”
“That’s so not funny, and I don’t think that’s what you’re doing. I think you’ve gotten us lost. No man would ever admit to that, so I think you’re taking us around in circles, hoping we’ll eventually come across the cabin again.”
He sighed. “Just ahead you’ll see a crappy, old shack. Josh and I found it years ago when we were looking for somewhere to play with our water pistols.”
“You needed shelter for that?”
“We needed a base. Every good military operation has a base.”
I grinned, imagining Blake as a child, running around and playing fantasy games. We started walking again, slower this time. “Quite the imagination you have.”
“Had,” he corrected. “Life screws you over eventually.”
“Pessimist.”
“Hopeless optimist.”
“How far does the river go?” I asked.
He shrugged. “How should I know? Far, I assume.”
“That’s a lot of opportunity for someone to dump the evidence in the water. And a lot of forest too. Do you think they’ve hidden it all somewhere? The clothes, I mean.”
“No, they’re probably doing their weekly shopping in them,” he replied dryly.
I narrowed my eyes. “Bastard.”
“The forest is huge. You could lose anything in there. The ground is covered in leaves and crap, so you could probably bury a lot in there too.”
“Great. We have no hope.” Finding clues seemed impossible. If Blake was right, and he knew this area better than me, the murderer could have already hidden the evidence anywhere in the miles of woodland. The police would need the murderer’s clothes to match fibers to.
“Want to explain why we’re doing this?” he asked, lifting his dark eyebrow at me. I knew what he was thinking and I couldn’t disagree. This was stupid, beyond stupid, and a huge waste of my time.
“Because I have to do something, Blake!”
What else could I do? I’d never been the type of person to sit back and do nothing when people I cared about were in trouble.
He pointed ahead. “There you go.”
I frowned, but as I took another step, I could see the side of something wooden. “We’re here?”
“No, I took you—”
“All right, thank you!” I rolled my eyes and muttered under my breath, “Sarcastic arse.”
Blake grinned wide, flashing his teeth. He was a little too good at shoving his emotions aside. I could do it well enough to function, but Blake could do it well enough to be himself.
We walked closer, and I stopped. No way am I going in there. The whole structure looked as if it was about to collapse. It looked like the type of shack you screamed for someone not to go near in a horror film.
“It’s creepy,” I said as a cold shudder ripped through my body.
“It’s an old shed, Mackenzie. What do you think it’s gonna do? Bite you?”
I ignored him and nodded toward the door half hanging off the top hinge.
Blake’s smile grew. “Ladies first.”
“Shut up and go.” I didn’t understand how he could continuously make jokes when what we were doing was serious. And I hated that I didn’t completely hate his humor. “Unless you’re scared?”
He rolled his eyes. “Reverse psychology doesn’t work on me. This is your crusade. You lead the way, detective.”
“Fine.” I stood taller, trying to fool myself into believing that I was braver than I felt. “But for the record, you have no balls at all, princess.” I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be, whether he would continue the cocky attitude or bite back, but I didn’t wait around to find out. I swallowed my dread and stepped into the run-down shed. Cobwebs plagued the top of the doorway, but the bottom half was clear, maybe from where someone had cleared it recently. I peered inside, but the dust-clad windows prevented much light from coming inside.
I looked over my shoulder and was met by an incredibly smug-looking Blake. “Want me to go first, sweets?” he asked.
“Is that a genuine offer?”
He bit his lip, pretending to think, even though we were both aware that he already knew the answer. He sighed. “Move out of the way.” Swiping at the remaining cobwebs with his hand, he stepped inside.
“What’s in there?” I whispered.
“No one. No reason for you to whisper.”
I took a deep breath, gritting my teeth. “What’s in there, Blake?” I hissed.
“Bugger all. Come in.”
He could have been lying, and I would walk in to see a skeleton or something, but for some reason, I trusted him. Blake drove me crazy with his attitude, but I knew he wouldn’t put me in any danger. Well, not real danger at least. He would probably let me do something like walk into a room with a skeleton to scare the hell out of me.
I took a small step and was halfway through the door when the musty smell made my nose sting. Blake wiped the cracked glass with his hand. A shaft of light poured into the small room, giving enough light so we could see.
The inside of the shed was filled with dust, mud, and more cobwebs. The floor was littered with empty packets of chips and bottles of drink. I frowned. “We’re not going to find anything, are we?”
Blake scratched the back of his neck. “If you want to continue looking for someone else, I’m with you.”
“But?” I prompted, sensing he had more to say.
“But I think it was one of your friends.”
I gulped and shook my head. “No, it couldn’t have been. They wouldn’t.”
“That’s what they want you to believe, yes.”
“No. I need to keep searching. Check the use-by dates on the litter. Some might be recent.”
“And that will prove…?”
I don’t know! “Please, Blake,” I said. I knew I was looking for a needle in a haystack and searching rubbish was plain ridiculous, but I had to find evidence that pointed to an intruder. I couldn’t accept the killer was one of my friends.
He held up his hands. “All right, let’s look at rubbish.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
This is absolutely absurd. We’re checking litter. This investigation is at an all-time low.
Blake knelt down and picked up a faded packet of chips. I wanted to tell him that the bag had clearly been here a long time, but he was doing me a favor. “I hope your friends appreciate you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’re doing everything you can to prove their innocence—innocence you don’t even know is there—including sifting through crap. What’re they doing for you?”
“I don’t do things to get something in return.”
“No, but perhaps you should ask yourself if you’re being appreciated a little more often.”
I didn’t respond, but picked up a crumpled biscuit packet. Gasping, I shoved the packet toward him. “Blake, look!” There was blood on it. Not a lot, but I hoped against all the odds that it was blood to link the real murderer to the crime. A frown slipped onto his forehead as he studied it.
“How long do you think it’s been there?” I asked.
“How the hell should I know?”
“Well, does it look like old blood?”
He shrugged. “I dunno.”
Outside, I heard a snap and froze. Gripping Blake’s arm, I looked at the doorway in horror. “Did you hear that?” I whispered.
“Uh-huh,” Blake replied, taking a step forward and tilting his head. I tightened my fingers around his bicep and kept myself rigid, trying to hold him back. He looked over his shoulder. “I need to check it out,” he said in a low voice, dropping the bloodstained packet.
Shaking my head, I tugged him closer, but he barely moved. “Don’t. It could be them.”
“It could be an animal.”
“Please, Blake, I’m—” Another snap had me clenching my teeth together and my heart sinking to my toes. “Don’t go out there,” I discouraged.
Blake reached down and pulled my hand from his arm. “Stay here.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Not half as much as I’m starting to think you are.” His eyes darkened as he leaned closer. “And don’t ever question my mental health again.”
I took a step back, away from him.
“Stay here, Mackenzie,” he growled.
Holding my breath, I watched him cautiously step out of the shed. I couldn’t let him go out alone. What if the killer was out there? It was unlikely, but I hadn’t thought something bad could happen at the cabin either.
Gathering as much courage as I could, I stepped into the woods and held my breath. Blake rounded the corner of the shed and almost slammed into me. I jumped backward and scowled as he smirked.
“It was a deer,” he said.
“Huh?”
“Deer—four-legged creature that lives in the woods?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I know what a deer is. Are you sure that’s what it was?”
“Well, if not, it was a very ugly person.” He reached down and picked up the packet from just inside the doorway. “So you really want to take this?”
“Yes,” I replied. It’s just a deer, calm down. “I think the blood looks new…ish.”
Blake laughed and shook his head. He thought I was an idiot, but at least I was being proactive.
“This isn’t funny, Blake. Why aren’t you taking this seriously?”
“Because you’ve got us sifting through garbage. I’ll humor you and we’ll take this to Wright.” He stood up. “Now come on, before you find a dead bird and accuse that of—”
“All right, thank you.” I turned on my heel and stomped away. Keeping my cool with him was hard, even when he was trying to help.
“Mackenzie?”
“Yeah.”
“What will you do if one of them is the killer?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I said, and tried to shake the thought from my mind. “Will you help me? No one else seems overly enthusiastic about investigating. I need someone,” I whispered.
He frowned. “Are you gonna cry? I don’t do well with hysterical women, remember?”
“I’m not going to cry. Not yet.”
“You’ve set a timer?” he teased.
I smiled. “When this is all over. Until then, I’m strong Mackenzie.”
“Your friends really are lucky.”
I shrugged off his compliment. It’s what anyone would do for the people they cared about. “So will you help?”
The corner of his mouth pulled up, and he did a little bow. “I’m at your service, Detective Keaton.”
I breathed out sharply, relieved that I had someone to go through all this with—even if that person drove me insane most of the time. I knew that, together, we could figure out the truth of what happened.
He reached out and brushed his thumb over my little finger. His touch sent a bolt of electricity through every inch of my body.
“Thank you, Blake,” I whispered.