Bree stepped through the door of Laura and Jason’s small ranch house. She paused in the family room entrance. Memories assaulted her. Memories of decorating the place with Laura, parties in the family room, barbecues on the large deck, and frequent afternoons when she and Laura popped popcorn and watched chick flicks or just talked about their lives while Jason went golfing.
Then there was the day Laura brought Ella home to the nursery Bree had helped decorate. Oh, the joy. Indescribable for Jason and Laura, and for Bree who served as Ella’s godmother. Never did she imagine she’d have to fulfill her promise to step in and become Ella’s mother.
An involuntary cry of anguish escaped, and she clamped a hand over her mouth as tears ran down her cheeks.
Clint came up behind her. “I should have realized how hard this would be for you. I could have come over here alone.”
She shook her head, but she couldn’t form a word in response.
“It’s okay, honey.” He turned her into his arms. “I’m here for you. Go ahead and cry it out again.”
He was right. He was here for her. For now, but he wouldn’t be here for long. His leave would end, and he’d go back to risking his life on dangerous missions. She didn’t want that. Not at all. Her crying ramped up.
“Shh,” he kept whispering as he patted her back.
She should pull away before she became too dependent on him, but she clung tightly and let the tears fall. When she could cry no more, she leaned back and looked up at him. His eyes were soft with compassion. Marveling at the depth of caring in his expression, she brushed her fingers over his cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she lost herself in his eyes.
He started to speak, then stopped and cleared his throat. “We were always good together, weren’t we?”
“Yes,” she whispered, letting her hand drift to the spot on his shirt dampened by her tears. “It was the apart that I couldn’t handle. I still can’t handle it.”
“And I can’t change jobs.” The emotion had left his voice, leaving a flat, disappointed tone.
She drew back. “And that leaves us in the same place.”
He didn’t seem like he wanted to agree, but he nodded. “And if it’s possible, I hate it even more that we’ll have to go our separate ways when this is all over.”
Sadness and disappointment drew her toward him to nestle in his arms and take comfort, but she resisted. Clinging to him would only increase the urge to have him in her life.
She pushed from his arms. “We should try to limit the time we spend alone together, and it’ll be easier.”
“Maybe,” he said, but he didn’t seem to believe it. He gestured at a desk in the corner holding Jason’s laptop. “The computer should be a great place to find work information. At least if it’s not password-protected.”
“As usual, Jason thought of everything. In the paperwork that came with the will, he left detailed instructions on how to access his laptop so I could locate information about his accounts.” She crossed the room, sat in the leather chair and booted up the computer where she entered the password she’d committed to memory.
Clint came to stand behind her. “Email’s a good place to start.”
She forced her attention to the screen and clicked on the email icon. A window opened displaying two profiles. One was labeled work and the other home.
“Start with work,” Clint suggested.
She opened the account and clicked on the last email received before Jason died. The message was from an Isaac Ellison.
“That’s one of the names Shawn gave us,” Clint said.
The email referenced an insurance issue with Jason’s client. There was no mention of the client’s name, just an account number, but Isaac demanded to talk to Jason about the client.
Clint pointed at the email signature. “Looks like Isaac was Jason’s boss, and he doesn’t sound very happy with Jason.”
Bree peered up at Clint. “If work spilled into their personal lives, he could also be the guy who argued with Jason at the marina. And from there it could have escalated to murder.”
* * *
Isaac Ellison led Bree and Clint down the hall toward his office located in the outskirts of McKinney. Bree mimed for Clint that Isaac was of the right physical build to be the man who’d fled from the marina earlier that day. Clint nodded his understanding and agreement.
Isaac stepped into the small space and gestured at chairs sitting in front of his desk. Bree took a seat and ran her gaze over the room. The office was nondescript except for boating pictures on the wall. Bree didn’t know much about boats, but it was obvious that the cabin cruiser in the pictures matched the one they saw in the marina that could have damaged Jason’s boat.
“Nice boat,” she said. “Is it yours?”
“Yes.” He frowned. “Jason and I were good friends. We often went boating together. I still can’t believe he’s gone.”
She hadn’t seen this man at Jason’s funeral, much less heard Laura or Jason mention him, so she doubted they were good friends. Was the man simply exaggerating—or was he outright lying?
“I’m not convinced that Jason would be careless enough to die from carbon monoxide poisoning,” she said.
“I found that odd, too. I know he was careful not to run his AC at night.”
Interesting. “Did you tell the police that?”
He shook his head. “I figured it was just too hot that night, and he decided to risk running it.”
“If his death wasn’t an accident,” Clint said, “can you think of anyone who might have wanted to kill Jason or Laura?”
Isaac shook his head.
“Maybe Jason had a disgruntled client,” Bree suggested as she and Clint had decided not to tell Isaac that they’d read the email and to wait for him to offer information.
“Not that I know of, and I gotta think that if someone was angry enough to attack Jason over one of his decisions, that Jason would have told me about it.”
“What exactly did Jason’s job as an adjuster entail?” Clint asked.
“He reviewed insurance claims and either approved or denied them.”
“So he could have made someone mad by denying their claim.”
“Sure, happens all the time, but mad enough to kill? Nah. I can’t see that.”
“Would you mind checking his case files just in case he failed to mention an extremely upset client to you?” Bree asked.
“Sure, yeah. I’m glad to take a look, but he had a heavy caseload so it’ll take some time.”
He was going out of his way to seem helpful and agreeable, but after reading his email to Jason, Bree suspected it was a front. She doubted he’d follow through and actually contact her about any clients and they’d have to question him again about the email.
“Have you been here all day?” Clint asked.
“Yeah, why?”
Clint shrugged. “What about the night Jason died? Where were you then?”
Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was home with my wife.”
“One of the marina workers told us they saw Jason arguing with a man of your size and build on the dock just before he died,” Bree said. “Could that have been you?”
Isaac’s narrow lips dipped in a frown. “Wasn’t me.”
“You’re sure?” Clint asked, and Bree knew he doubted Isaac just as she did.
“Positive.” He glanced at his watch then stood. “I’m swamped this afternoon. I’ll walk you out.”
He rushed them out the door and to the exit.
At the elevator to street level, Bree peered up at Clint. “He sure was in a hurry to get rid of us.”
“Agreed.”
She boarded the elevator. “I’m thinking he was the guy who argued with Jason. And the guy who was watching us earlier today.”
“I don’t know about that, but I don’t think he was completely truthful with us.”
“Maybe we should have asked him about the email.”
Clint shook his head. “I still think it was best to wait. We don’t want to scare him into destroying any evidence.”
When the door opened on ground level, Clint’s gaze turned razor-sharp, and his arm went around her waist to snug her tight against his side. She didn’t know if he’d seen something suspicious or if he was just being cautious, but she gladly accepted his protection and stayed close until she climbed into his truck.
He sat behind the wheel and she swiveled to face him. “Do you think we should go back to the marina and question the woman who saw Jason’s argument?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.” Clint stared ahead.
“What are you thinking?”
He peered at her. “That Jason’s death is work-related, and Isaac knows about it, but isn’t going to admit it, and that we have our work cut out for us.”
“Knows about it…as in, he knows who did it? So you don’t think he’s the killer himself?”
“Not necessarily. He got flustered toward the end, when we had him talk about his whereabouts. He wasn’t expecting those questions. But he was calm and collected when it came to talking about Jason’s angry clients—as if he’d practiced saying that part and had planned his answers.”
“But if he wasn’t involved in the murders, why lie about the clients? Why not just tell the authorities about whoever had a grudge against Jason?”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t involved,” Clint replied. “I just think this might have been something more complicated than a simple denied claim. Maybe there were other factors involved—bribes or payouts of some kind. Or maybe there was some kind of deal or scam that went wrong.”
“Are you suggesting Jason was involved in something unethical or illegal?”
“Maybe.”
“No. If you knew Jason, you’d know that wasn’t possible. He was a man of faith and principles. He’d never do anything unscrupulous.”
“You’d be surprised what good people are capable of doing,” he replied.
“Not Jason.”
She turned away and caught sight of Isaac rushing out of the building. “Look.”
Clint swiveled. “So much for being swamped.”
Isaac climbed into a white SUV and roared past them.
“Do you think our visit spooked him?”
“Let’s follow him and find out.” Clint started the truck and eased into traffic.
He hung back, and Bree kept her gaze fixed on Isaac’s SUV until he turned into the marina parking lot.
Clint pulled to the side of the road. “We’ll give him a chance to park and get out of his car so he doesn’t see us.”
Bree wanted to race after Isaac, but Clint had experience in evasion tactics so she tried to be patient. Clint finally eased forward, and Bree saw Isaac starting down the gangway toward the slips.
Clint parked near Isaac’s SUV. “I don’t like the idea of you getting out of the truck here, but I like leaving you behind even less. So stay next to me and follow my directions.”
Bree nodded and, by the time she stepped down from the truck, he’d jogged to her door. She expected his arm would settle at her waist, and once it did, they moved at a quick clip, trailing Isaac into the maze of boats.
“He’s boarding his boat.” As she spoke, he ducked into the cabin.
“If he’s in the cabin, he’s not leaving the dock.”
“Maybe he has something onboard that he needs to get.”
Clint picked up speed. “I’m going straight inside. You stay behind me. Move softly to keep from alerting him.”
He stepped onto the platform then helped her board. Holding her hand now, he quickly led her toward the cabin door.
“Stop!” he shouted at the cabin door, apparently having seen something that made him discard his stealthy approach. He dropped her hand and rushed forward.
Bree entered behind him and saw papers burning in the stainless steel sink. Isaac held a trash can over the sink as if he planned to add the items in the can to the flames.
Clint knocked the can from Isaac’s hand. She thought he might wrestle Isaac to the ground to stop him, but he stood glaring at Isaac instead.
“You have no right to be on my boat,” Isaac snapped. “Get off now.”
“We just want to talk.”
“Is that so?” Isaac’s breath came hard and fast. “Is that why you’re trespassing and assaulting me?”
“Trust me,” Clint said. “If I’d assaulted you, you wouldn’t be standing upright.”
“Well you’re certainly trespassing.” Isaac dug out his phone from his pocket. “And if you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”
Clint raised his hands. “Relax. We’re going.”
He backed toward Bree, but stopped by the trash can. “What’s with the bloody tissues in the trash?”
“I get frequent nosebleeds.”
Clint didn’t respond, but Bree could tell he wanted to say something. Instead, he gestured for her to step out first. Outside the cabin, he took her hand again.
“Did you believe the nosebleed comment?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“But why?”
“He came up with the answer too fast for it to be a lie. And if he’d hurt himself on Jason’s boat he’d have emptied his trash a long time ago.”
“But you looked like you wanted to say something else.”
“Say something? Nah. I thought about grabbing a tissue for Shawn to compare to the blood found on Jason’s boat.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“He was watching us—he could have accused us of theft. Anyway, if what he says is true about frequent nosebleeds, we’ll have a chance to collect a bloody tissue in the future.”
“The future,” she mumbled. “Sounds like you don’t think this will be resolved anytime soon.”
He met her gaze and held it. “I’m sorry, Bree. But I don’t. We may have a few leads, but it’s going to take time to track them down, leaving you in danger for far longer than I’d hoped.”