Chapter Twenty

It was the Fourth of July, an exciting day in a place as small as Waterside. Dylan knew Winnie had been looking forward to the trip, knew Emily probably was, too. He looked over at Lane, who sat in the copilot’s seat. At the last minute, he had decided to bring Emily and Winnie along for the day after all.

He wanted to keep a sense of normalcy, stay positive, focus on something good. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t fair for his daughter and Winnie to miss out on such an important day.

Lane gave him a smile as he made a smooth water landing, idled the plane up to the float dock, and shut down the engine.

The town was bustling as they walked up the hill from the dock, everyone excited about the annual parade that was scheduled for 11:00 AM. Dylan intended to leave Emily with Winnie in front of the Grizzly Café. They could watch the parade while he and Lane met with Peter Keller.

The attorney had decided to fly in last night instead of this morning. He’d called Dylan to let him know he was scheduled to meet with Caleb at 8:00 AM. It was ten thirty now. Dylan was set to meet with Keller in his room at the Sea View Motel.

As he reached the boardwalk at the edge of town, Dylan crouched in front of Emily. “You ready to watch the parade?”

Emily vigorously nodded. “Then we’d better get going. It’s almost time for it to start.” He flicked a glance at Lane as he took hold of Emily’s hand and saw her smiling softly down at the little girl.

“I just love holidays,” Winnie said as they walked along the crowded street. “The Fourth is one of my favorites. It always makes me feel so patriotic.”

Especially when the whole town was decorated in red, white, and blue. Flags flew everywhere. Bunting was draped across second-story railings all over town. Emily pointed and laughed as they passed a little boy whose face was painted in red, white, and blue stripes. The boy grinned and waved, and Emily waved back.

It was the warmest day of the year so far, and everyone was in T-shirts and short-sleeved shirts. Dylan wore a black tee with an eagle on the front. Lane had a little rhinestone flag pin on the collar of her white cotton blouse. Emily wore a bill cap in red, white, and blue that Dylan had bought her in Juneau. And Winnie wore a bright red T-shirt with U.S.A. proudly stamped on the front.

He could see the Grizzly Café up ahead. There was an American flag in the window, and Maggie had piped John Phillip Sousa marching band music out onto the sidewalk in front.

“Okay, you two,” Dylan said to Winnie and Emily. “Have a good time and enjoy the parade. We won’t be gone long. If the parade’s over before we get back, we’ll meet you at the café. All right?”

Emily nodded.

“We’ll be there,” Winnie said. Her smile slid away. “Go take care of our boy.”

Dylan reached over and squeezed her hand. “I will. Don’t worry.” But he knew she wouldn’t stop fretting until Caleb was in the clear.

Dylan took Lane’s arm and wove it through his as they headed back up the street to the motel. All the rooms in the two-story building faced the harbor. Peter had taken rooms 212 and 213 on the second floor.

They climbed the outside stairs and crossed the balcony, which was draped with red-white-and-blue bunting. Dylan took a deep breath and knocked on the door of 213, where the meeting was to be held.

The Sea View was one step up from a Motel 6. Nothing fancy, but great scenery outside the windows and easy access to town. Keller had set up one of the rooms as an office. Dylan raised a hand to knock when Keller opened the door.

“You’re right on time. Come on in.”

As he stepped into the motel room, Dylan felt a shock of relief to see Caleb standing next to the round Formica-topped table in the corner. He caught the quick flash of tears in Lane’s eyes when she saw him.

“Thanks, Peter,” Dylan said as they walked in and the men shook hands.

Keller smiled. “Just doing my job.” Although he was only thirty-three, the same age as Dylan, Keller’s hair was prematurely silver. He was six feet tall, lean and always perfectly groomed. Today he wore a white Izod pullover and navy-blue slacks, his feet shoved into an expensive pair of navy-and-yellow Nike sneakers.

Caleb walked over and clasped Dylan’s shoulder. “Thanks, buddy.”

“You okay?”

Caleb still looked a little pale and slightly shell-shocked. Dylan didn’t blame him. “Better now that I’m out of jail. Thanks to you and Peter.”

Lane leaned over and gave Caleb a hug he briefly returned. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

“Lane, this is a longtime friend of mine, Peter Keller. We went to school together in Anchorage when we were kids. Peter went on to law school at Berkley, graduated at the top of his class. At the moment, I’m damned glad he did.”

Dylan turned his attention to the attorney. “Peter, this is Lane Bishop. She’s helping me remodel the lodge.” Even as he said the words, they didn’t sound right, didn’t sound like enough. Lane meant more to him than just a woman he had hired to do a job.

“Nice to meet you, Lane.” Keller shook hands with her, then tipped his head toward the table in the corner. Four black vinyl chairs surrounded it. “Why don’t we all sit down?”

Dylan seated Lane, then took a seat himself. Caleb and Peter also sat down.

“So how did you get him out?” Dylan asked.

“Caleb hadn’t been arraigned yet, so there was no way to post bail. The thing is all the evidence against him is circumstantial. I told them they would be looking at a lawsuit for false arrest if they kept him locked up. I also said if they’d release him, you’d personally guarantee he didn’t leave the area. I hope that was okay.”

“No problem.”

“The bad news is, their case is beginning to look pretty good.”

Dylan’s stomach tightened. “So they’ve come up with new evidence?”

“Yesterday afternoon, they found the primary crime scene. It was fifty yards from Mad Jack’s Saloon. One of the high heels Holly was seen wearing in the bar was found in the bushes, along with a thin silver chain she was known to wear. That was confirmed by a woman named Maggie Ridell, the owner of the Grizzly Café where Holly worked part-time.”

“Evidence of rape?” Dylan asked.

“Medical examiner says the vagina showed no signs of tearing, no bruising, nothing like that. There was evidence she’d had sex, but it looks like it was consensual, and the guy was wearing a condom.”

Caleb looked sick.

“So no DNA,” Dylan said.

“The river isn’t far from Mad Jack’s,” Peter continued. “Her body was waterlogged and battered pretty badly by the rocks as it floated to the sea. But those injuries were post-mortem. She wasn’t beaten, died before she had a chance to put up much of a struggle. The supposition is, whoever killed Holly carried her to the river after she was dead and dumped her body to make sure they didn’t find any DNA.”

“And it worked.”

“Apparently it did. The police believe Caleb waited for Holly outside Mad Jack’s. They had sex in the woods, started arguing again, and he killed her. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe he did it on purpose.”

“I didn’t kill Holly,” Caleb said darkly.

“No one here believes you did,” Dylan said.

“Did they find her purse?” Lane asked, drawing Dylan’s attention and a hint of respect, since it was a damned good question.

“It wasn’t in her car or at the crime scene. They figure he took it with him, probably tossed it into the river along with the body.”

“Who reported her missing?” Lane asked.

“Her car was still in the lot, registration in the glove box. One of the local cops saw it and put two and two together.”

Lane reached for Caleb, gently touched his arm. “Dylan and I are going to find out the truth. We’re going to dig around, ask questions, see if we can find the person who killed her. There were people in the bar that night. Someone has to have seen something that can help us.”

Caleb sat back in his chair. “In the meantime, what am I supposed to do? I can’t just sit around and wait for them to put a noose around my neck.”

Keller leaned toward him. “That is exactly what you’re going to do. You’re going to put yourself under house arrest. You’re going to go back to Eagle Bay and stay there. You’re going to make sure someone knows where you are every minute of the day and night. You got it?”

Caleb’s black eyes studied Keller. “You aren’t worried there might be another murder and I’d get the blame?”

“It’s happened before,” Keller said.

Caleb rubbed a hand over his face.

“You listen to your attorney,” Dylan warned. “You sit back and let us do the work.”

Caleb sighed. “Okay, okay. I’ll do whatever you say. I didn’t kill anyone and I don’t want to go to jail.”

“Anything else we need to know?” Dylan asked.

“Not at the moment. I’ll be heading back tomorrow. The police aren’t ready to press formal charges. They want to be sure they have all their ducks in a row.”

Peter stood up from his chair and the others got up, too. “I’ll be in touch,” Keller said. “Keep me posted on whatever information you come up with.”

“Will do.”

“It might be a good idea to hire a private investigator. But sometimes you can make more headway going in low-key. You know these people, Dylan. I’m guessing they like and trust you. Give it a go, see if you can make any progress.”

He nodded. “If I hit a brick wall, I’ll call Nick. Till then, we’ll do what we can on our own.” Dylan shook Peter’s hand, then settled a hand at Lane’s waist and urged her toward the door.

“Winnie and Emily are with us,” he said to Caleb. “I’ll be flying all of us back home this afternoon. In the meantime, it’s the Fourth of July. Let’s go watch the parade.”

Caleb actually managed to smile.

 

 

The Waterside High School band was bringing up the rear of the parade, marching down the street playing “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” The Wolverines cheerleading squad darted along beside the band, shaking blue-and-gold pompoms in their hands.

As the crowd began to disperse, Lane spotted Winnie and Emily up ahead. Emily ran to Caleb, and he caught her in his arms and swung her up on his shoulders. Lane could see the disappointment on Dylan’s face that his little girl hadn’t dashed over to him.

“How’s my favorite kid?” Caleb asked, but of course Emily didn’t answer.

“I’m starved,” Dylan said. “Anybody else hungry?”

“I could eat a bear,” Winnie said, clearly relieved to see Caleb. “Tail end first.”

Emily laughed. Caleb set her on her feet as they reached the door to the café, and Dylan pulled it open, ringing the little bell above. There weren’t too many customers inside. A lot of people were heading for the picnic in Waterside Park that Winnie had told Lane about.

Dylan spotted a booth that had just emptied out and started guiding them in that direction. He had almost reached it when Maggie came out from behind the counter and stormed toward them, wedging herself between Caleb and the rest of their party.

“You aren’t welcome in here,” she said, clamping her hands on her curvy hips. “Not anymore.”

Caleb’s dark features went pale. “You think I killed her? You think I killed Holly?”

The customers all turned in their seats, their attention locking on the scene playing out in the middle of the café.

“The two of you were involved. You’d been sleeping together. She told me so herself.”

“Well, she was lying. I’ve only talked to her a couple of times and I haven’t slept with her since we broke up six years ago.”

“I want you to leave. Holly’s dead. She was only a kid. If it turns out I’m wrong about you, I’ll apologize.”

“That’s enough,” Dylan warned. “Let’s go.” He urged them firmly toward the door. “We don’t need the hassle.” As they walked outside, he stopped and turned back. “I’m going to hold you to that apology, Maggie.” And then they were outside and back on the boardwalk.

Winnie was utterly horrified. “Well, I never. I always liked that woman. Not anymore.”

“Holly was Maggie’s friend,” Caleb said, defending her even after what she had said.

“Well, she’s no friend of yours.”

Caleb made no reply.

“I’d rather have pizza anyway,” Lane said brightly, reaching down to take Emily’s hand. “How about you, Em?”

Emily looked at Caleb as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t force out the words. In the end, she just nodded.

Dylan led the small group down the walk and turned onto a side street. The Pelican Pub was a wooden building with neon Bud Light beer signs in the window.

“Best pizza in Waterside,” Dylan said.

“That’s right,” Winnie agreed. “And the service is as good as the food.”

And with any luck, Lane thought, the owner wouldn’t accuse Caleb of murder.

After the scene at the Grizzly Café, Dylan changed his plans. He’d intended to go to the police, tell them about the man who had been watching the lodge. Trouble was there was a good chance the police would think Caleb was that man.

Since Caleb lived in one of the cabins by himself and hadn’t been there the night Lane had seen a man on the deck, there was no way to prove it wasn’t him.

Deciding, at least for the moment, to try handling the problem himself, after they finished their pizza, Dylan rounded up his small group of travelers and headed back to the plane.

He wanted to be sure the lodge was locked up tight before dark, and he planned another night of lying in wait for the watcher. With Caleb and Paddy’s help, maybe they’d get lucky and catch the son of a bitch. If not, he’d talk to Payuk again, see if he had made any progress.

Tomorrow, he’d return to Waterside and start digging. He wanted to talk to the employees at Mad Jack’s Saloon, speak to some of Holly’s friends, and take a look at the crime scene.

There had to be something, some piece of evidence that would send them in the right direction—and clear Caleb’s name. Dylan was determined to find it.