Chapter Seven
With nary a backward glance at their parents, Brianna and Colt skipped happily into their grandmother’s home, ready to spend the night. Carol had promised them cartoons, popcorn, and ice cream, so clearly junk food was far more important than Mom and Dad.
“Seriously, don’t feed them too much sugar,” Ava warned, already missing her children. She’d only spent a few nights away from them their entire life. “They’ll sleep fine but then get you up in the middle of the night to puke. Especially Colt. He has a delicate tummy.”
Logan’s reassuring hand settled on her shoulder. “They’ll be fine, honey. Your mom’s got this.”
Carol gave Ava a gentle hug. “Trust me, okay? They’ve spent the night before and survived. You and Mary turned out pretty good as well.”
Ava hadn’t meant to imply that her mother wasn’t up to the job. “Of course they’ll be fine, it’s just that I–”
“Worry,” Carol finished for her. “That’s natural. You can call later and wish them good night if you like. By bedtime, they’ll probably be missing you.”
Ava wasn’t so sure. The twins were at an age now where they were seeking ways to become more independent. Brianna wanted to choose her own clothing every day and Colt just wanted to boss Brianna around. That usually went over like the proverbial lead balloon. Brianna was no pushover.
With one last glance at her mother’s home, Ava climbed into the car. They were heading to the park where Lyle was shot. The days in the summer were long and that meant that there was enough sun left to visit the crime scene.
The park wasn’t far from her mother’s home and they parked as close as they could to the yellow tape surrounding the scene. A deputy sat in his cruiser guarding the area and keeping out the curious.
Logan waved to the officer and the deputy exited his vehicle to shake hands. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Wright. You’re something of a legend in this town. I’m Deputy Henry Davenport.”
Interesting. The one thing the townspeople couldn’t say was that Logan sucked at his job. This young man hadn’t worked for Logan and Ava had never seen him before. It appeared that the new recruits were getting younger or perhaps she was simply getting older.
“Don’t believe half of what you hear,” Logan replied, his attention on the scene in front of them. “Drake said that he would keep the scene untouched until I got here. You’re taking down the tape after I leave?”
The young man stood up straighter. “Yes, sir. That’s my orders, sir.”
A smile playing on his lips, Logan nodded. “Thank you, Deputy. I’ll let you know if we need anything.”
The officer didn’t get back into his cruiser, instead leaning a hip against the door and checking his phone. Logan and Ava ducked under the crime scene tape and stood back to survey the scene.
Pulling a diagram from his breast pocket, Logan glanced at it and then pointed to the narrow path. “That’s where he was shot.”
Shivering at the thought of Lyle dying here alone, Ava trailed after Logan to the exact spot. Standing there she did a three-sixty, looking all around for a likely place for the shooter to hide. In wait.
Assuming of course that Lyle wasn’t a random kill. That the shooter had intended to murder Lyle and not just the next person who came along that path.
“There are a few spots he might have hidden,” Ava said, studying a clump of trees about twenty yards away. “Maybe there.”
“Possibly.”
That’s what Logan always said when he didn’t agree with her but he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Once the autopsy was complete they’d have a better idea of the angle of the shot but for now they were just conjecturing.
“What are you thinking then?”
Her husband was playing like the Sphinx and not saying much. His expression was blank which wasn’t that unusual when he was in thinking mode, but her natural impatience wouldn’t allow him to be quiet for long. He needed to talk about what was going on in his head.
“If I were going to kill someone in this park in the early morning hours…”
Logan’s voice trailed away, his gaze trained farther up the path.
“If,” Ava prompted. “If you were going to do it…?”
He didn’t respond, instead striding up the path with her following behind until he got to a scrub of bushes. Crouching down, Logan hid behind the greenery. “Here. I’d wait for Lyle here. I’d have a clear shot and a good view. Can you go back down the path a ways and see if you can spot me?”
Jogging back to where Lyle was shot, Ava turned and tried to see her husband but couldn’t. She ran back as Logan was climbing out of his hiding place.
“In any other season that spot wouldn’t have worked. It was all the leaves that covered you.” But she couldn’t resist pointing it out. “The other spot would work as well, though. He’d have a clear shot from there.”
Now Logan was grinning. He loved debating with her.
Who was she kidding? She loved it, too.
“I don’t think so.” Logan shook his head. “He would have a clear shot but he wouldn’t have the best view while he was waiting. Up here he had both.”
“But he could also possibly be seen from the road,” she pointed out. “Over there he’d be completely hidden.”
“And have a terrible view of the path.”
They both made good arguments. There was only one way to settle this.
Peeking up at him from under her lashes, she waggled her brows. “Care to make it interesting?”
Stroking his chin, Logan’s smile became downright evil. “Perhaps. What did you have in mind, good girl?”
Her heart stuttered in her chest and she drew in a sharp breath. It brought back so many memories of when they were first together.
Good memories. Hot, sweaty ones.
She shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “I dunno. How about a thirty-minute backrub for whichever one of us is right?”
“I’m going to need something better than that.”
That had only been her opening salvo.
“A thirty minute backrub…and, well…what do you want?”
That I wouldn’t give you willingly and gleefully.
That smile. No one smiled like Logan Wright.
“The backrub and some of your famous lasagna and chocolate mousse.”
To anyone listening in, that remark would have sounded completely innocent. Totally G-rated. But Ava knew better. Lasagna always led to a night where they put that chocolate mousse to good use, licking it off each other’s bodies.
“Deal. Now what do I get if I win?”
“Anything you want, baby,” Logan vowed. “You can name your price.”
“So now we wait. In the meantime, have we learned anything here? Other than the shooter likely hid behind those trees.”
Chuckling, Logan didn’t correct her. “Remember that the sun was barely up. With all this tree and leaf cover, it had to be pretty dark. The shooter either had to know his target or he didn’t care.”
It was an intriguing hypothesis. “You think there’s a chance this could be random? If that’s the case, then things in this town could get very bad.”
Ava distinctly remembered the D.C. Sniper attacks several years ago. Terror and fear had reigned until the father and son duo were caught.
Logan was staring at the path again where Lyle was shot. “I have no evidence either way. All I have is Aaron swearing that everyone loved Lyle and that no one would have a motive to kill him. If that’s true, then it only leaves us with either a random shooting or a case of mistaken identity.”
“We have to talk to the jogger who found him. She might be the target.”
“She might be the shooter,” Logan replied, shoving the diagram back into his pocket. “I want to check her out and make sure she’s clean. She’s probably just a woman who had terrible luck, but we have to be thorough. No stone unturned.”
Was that her husband’s way of warning her that he was going to investigate Mary? It hadn’t occurred to her that he wouldn’t.
“Mary’s scared. She wants me to help clear her.”
“Good. The spouse is always the first suspect. She’ll need all the help she can get, especially as I don’t think she’s telling us the truth about their marital issues. Her eyes went a little shifty and so did Aaron’s when I asked him about it.”
“Mary is a total bitch but she’s not a killer.”
“That’s what Aaron said,” Logan laughed. “She does have an interesting reputation. But I do want to clear her and get her off my suspects list. I’ll have Drake pull all the traffic camera footage around her house so that we can rule her out.”
Logan seemed to forget they were in Corville, not Seattle.
“Traffic cameras? Just how many of those do you think they have here?”
“I saw one when we came into town. Let’s hope there are more. I’ve also requested Lyle and Mary’s phone records. We need to know who they were talking to these last few weeks or months. You can help me look through those, plus their business and financials.”
Ava blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. “You always say you’ll help me and then you run off and do something else.”
“Nobody combs through files better than you, darlin’. I just slow you down.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“I know how to get you sweet,” Logan declared with that smug grin. “Now let’s get home and get started. We have a lot of work to do.”
Another mystery to solve here in Corville, and like the last one it hit close to home. Too close. So many questions and so few answers.
Who would want to kill Lyle Bryson?
It simply couldn’t be Mary, and Ava would prove it.