Boone settled on the recliner with his laptop and called up the file his cousin had sent him. Reading her breezy e-mail was a knife stab to the chest, but he owed it to her to find out what had happened. He opened the file, then blinked. It was all gibberish.
“What the heck?”
He went back to her e-mail, saved the file again, but got the same result when he tried to read the newly saved document. A conversion problem from the e-mail, or had she protected it in some way? Maybe Mason had figured it out after taking Allyson’s computer.
He glanced at his watch. Only nine so it wasn’t too late to call the sheriff.
Mason answered on the first ring. “Boone, how you doing?”
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything, Mason.”
“Nope, just got Zoe down for the night. Hilary is working on a campaign speech, and I’m sitting here trying to decide between watching Fixer Upper or a ball game. What can I do for you?”
Hilary wouldn’t have any trouble winning reelection for Rock Harbor mayor. “You have Allyson’s computer, don’t you? At least I saw it was gone from her cabin.”
“Yeah, for all the good it’s done us so far. Most of her files are encrypted. I have our computer guru trying to figure out the password she used in the program so we can access them. Why?”
Boone told him about the e-mail from his cousin. “So she knew she was in danger. She must have stumbled on the identity of whoever killed my sister.”
“Whoa, Boone, you’re jumping to conclusions. She was poking around a lot, but she could have seen something else that got her killed. Maybe she ran into a smuggling operation.”
Boone gripped his phone more tightly. “You have evidence of that?”
“There was the hole in the ice. I’ve got divers going in there tomorrow to see if they can find anything. But it’s hard to say what happened. We have to look at all of it objectively.”
“Do you have cause of death yet?” Boone wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with the mental images that were sure to come, but he had to know.
“Yeah. The coroner found water in her lungs. She drowned.”
Drowned. Just like Renee. “And you still think it wasn’t that guy she called the Groom Reaper? Come on, Mason.”
“I admit it looks suspicious, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. I have a call into the detectives in charge of both of the other cases Allyson was investigating, including your sister’s. But again, let’s not leap to conclusions. Good police work means we don’t get set on an answer until we examine all the evidence.”
Boone knew Mason was right, but as far as he was concerned, everything pointed to whoever had killed Renee. Allyson had figured it out, but why hadn’t she called immediately and told him? It didn’t make sense.
Boone closed his laptop lid. “Any unusual phone calls? Like from someone out of town? Maybe she called whoever she suspected of being the killer, and he came after her.”
“I thought about that too. We’ve got a court order in to get her phone records, but they haven’t come through yet. I’ve got orders to check the phone’s location too.”
Boone rubbed his forehead. “Man, everything takes forever.”
“I know it seems like it when you want answers, but it’s only been a day and a half.”
“It seems like weeks.”
“I’m sure sorry, Boone. Just be patient. I won’t stop looking until I find out who did this.”
“I know you will, Mason.” The words felt like a lie on his tongue. The detective in charge of Renee’s case had promised the same thing, yet here they were three years later and no closer to an arrest.
“I’m actually glad you called. I was going to stop by in the morning. I don’t want you or Dana to pull another stunt like you did this afternoon. That could have gone south really fast with a man as volatile as Waterman. He had a gun, and I doubt he was afraid to use it.”
“He had it out. I had a firearm too, but I couldn’t use it with Dana in the way.”
“And that would have put you at a disadvantage. You could be dead right now. Do I have your word that you’ll leave the investigation to law enforcement? If it makes you feel any better, I’ve called in the state boys to help. This case has everyone’s full attention.”
“That’s good.” Boone couldn’t bring himself to make the promise.
“Boone? I want you both to stay out of it.”
“I’ll do my best to at least notify you if I find anything.”
Mason heaved a sigh. “Just focus on your business and let me do my job. I’ve got resources you don’t have.”
“Will you let me know if you figure out how to decode those files? I’d like a copy of them. Something in them might trigger a lead. I knew her better than you.”
“True. Okay, I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thanks, Mason. Have a good evening.” Boone ended the call and opened his laptop again. Maybe he could figure out the encryption. But nothing he tried worked.
Too restless to give up, he changed into his swim gear—a wetsuit, neoprene hat, boots, and gloves—then called Spirit. A cold-water swim would enhance his mental focus. Spirit barked and wagged his tail, then ran to the door. Boone jogged to the beach where he left his towel and waded into the water, then dove into the waves.
The shock of being submerged in icy water brought him sputtering to the surface before he found his determination again and set off for the rocky outcropping twenty yards out into Superior. He reached it, grabbed the rock to catch his breath for a moment, then turned and swam back to shore.
The wind pierced his wetsuit, and he grabbed his towel and wrapped it around him. On the way back to his cabin, he saw a bobbling light in the window of Allyson’s cabin.
Someone with a flashlight was inside.
He took off at a run, but as Boone went in the front door, he heard the back door slam. By the time he got there, the intruder was long gone.
Most people Dana talked to thought a dispatcher had the inside scoop on everything going on in the sheriff’s office, but the truth was, most of the time the dispatchers made an effort to gain that information. The moment a dispatcher sat in front of her bank of computer screens, the new day’s emergencies pushed yesterday’s out of the way.
Today was no different, and though she desperately wanted to know about the investigation into Allyson’s murder, she found herself answering a host of calls ranging from a dog attack to a kid hitting a tree on his sled.
Her shift was nearly over by the time she got a chance to take a break. She rose and stretched. “I’m going to get a snack. Need anything?”
Her coworkers shook their heads, and only Karen spared her a glance.
Dana escaped the stuffy room with its cacophony of phones and keyboard noises. She stopped at the break room long enough to grab a bottle of water, then headed for the sheriff’s office down the hall. Mason’s door stood open, and he sat at his desk tapping at his keyboard.
She rapped her knuckles on the door frame until he looked up. “Hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Nope, come on in. Settling into the job?”
It had been three days, and she already felt at home, though her coworkers had done little to make her feel welcome. “Fine.” She advanced to the desk. “Um, I wondered if there was anything new on Allyson’s murder.”
He nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Here’s a shocker—she had water in her lungs. That maniac held her head in that hole until she drowned.” His eyes narrowed, and his lips flattened. “I’m going to find him and make him pay.”
Drowned. Dana clenched the back of the chair in front of the desk to steady herself. She licked her dry lips. “Um, did you know Allyson was investigating two murders in other states? One in Washington and one in Oregon.”
Mason frowned and reached for his keyboard. “Hang on a second. Let me get down anything you have to say. The state boys want anything we know available to them online.” Lines appeared between his eyes, and he grunted. “Stupid computers have ruined good investigations.” He looked up. “Okay, so about these other two murders. Are you talking about Renee’s murder and the Rogerson case?”
“Of course Boone would have already told you. Allyson thought they might be connected and that the killer was the same man.”
“Did she talk to you about it at all? Maybe she told you something she didn’t tell Boone.”
Dana shook her head. “Not really, but she was killed the same way they were. And when she called emergency dispatch she said, ‘He’s going to kill me next.’ So that makes me wonder if the killer found out she was on his trail and made sure she didn’t talk.” Did she mention Garret’s name?
“Blasted computer,” he muttered and resumed his typing. “You’re sure she said ‘next’?”
“Positive. That’s why I think she found out something about the Groom Reaper.”
He lifted a brow. “I’m sure you know Boone told me all this. Why are you really here?”
She had to tell him. “She was looking into my ex-fiancé. H-He tried to drown me once, and he travels all over the country. Both of the murdered women’s fiancés were pharmaceutical reps. And Garret often traveled to both states in which the women were murdered, and he could have pretended to be with pharmaceuticals to conceal his true profession.”
Mason frowned and shook his head. “There are thousands of reps in the country, maybe tens of thousands. And plenty of abusive boyfriends, unfortunately. You’d think Allyson had more to go on than that.” His scowl deepened. “Still, he’s here in town, or at least he was. So that scoots him up a notch on the suspect list. Have you heard from him this week?”
“Not since Tuesday when Boone and I confronted him.”
“So he could be gone.” He grabbed the phone. “I’ll get a search warrant to check his cell phone records. That will tell us if he’s still in the area.” He paused. “Thanks for coming in, Dana.”
“I guess I didn’t have all that much information for you. I hope it’s not Garret. I feel like it’s my fault she’s dead. If I’d never come here, she might still be alive.” Her voice quivered, and she swallowed.
“You get that out of your head. You didn’t turn him into a killer.”
She started to answer, but he spoke into the phone and gave her a wave of dismissal. As she walked back to the dispatch room, she tried to talk herself out of her funk. The sheriff was right. She wasn’t responsible for Garret’s actions. But even though her head knew the truth, her chest tightened and her eyes burned. But who could he be working with? She ran through the list of his friends she’d met, and she couldn’t imagine anyone killing Allyson.
Maybe she was on the wrong track altogether, and her suspicions were just that—unfounded suspicions.