CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“It wasn’t really that much of a big deal,” Brynn laughed at Lance’s stunned reaction. She rested her forearm in the open window of Lance’s truck, enjoying the morning’s warmth from the sun. He was driving them to his new house, but not if he kept taking his eyes off the road to look at her as if she’d just grown horns out of her head. “It was two dates. Three, at the most.”
“You dated Byron Warner.”
“Yes.” Brynn bubbled with laughter again as Lance made it sound like she’d committed the worst crime possible by spending some time out with a sweet guy. It was the same reaction he had when Byron stopped by their table at the diner to say hello, all but suggesting that he and Brynn should get together for another meal sometime soon. “He really is a nice guy. He was a complete gentleman, and he doesn’t condone how Sheriff Percy runs the department at all. We just weren’t compatible. We’re better as friends.”
It was kind of fun to see him struggle with the vision of a goodnight kiss. Her smile widened when his grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“You’re at a disadvantage, because you personally know every man I’ve dated. Well, except for when I was in college,” Brynn pointed out, really enjoying this conversation. The honeysuckles that Ms. Barmore had planted throughout the town were no longer in season, but the air remained sweet with various flowers still in bloom this late in the season. “I wouldn’t know any of the women you’ve dated, nor would I want to, but it really doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it? How’s that?”
The way Lance worded his question stole her breath, because he was once again signifying that there was something more between them than friendship. Maybe there was the beginnings of something. After all, she’d spent most of last night watching him play pool and enjoying the view immensely.
“What I think is that we both agreed to take our growing friendship day by day,” Brynn reminded him, leaning forward and turning up the radio as they drove toward the old Fetter place. She’d have to get that label out of her head, considering the house was Lance’s new home. The song ended right as they came up to his driveway. “Is there much work to be done?”
“Not so much as you’d think, but it will still take me around a month to repaint, update, and rewire most of the house.” Lance parked the truck in front of the unattached one-car garage, staring at the house with a bit of disbelief. “It’s surreal that my parents did this for all us kids.”
“Do Jace, Mitch, and Gwen know your father and mother purchased them property as well?” Brynn had always pictured the Kendalls as a lot like the Waltons. She loved watching the reruns on television. She used to try and imitate some of the story lines with her parents, but they were constantly traveling on their missionary trips. She gave up trying for the perfect family around the age of nine. “I bet they’re excited to be coming home to Blyth Lake.”
“They don’t even know that Noah and I received our homes as gifts.” Lance removed the truck keys and opened the driver side door. It wasn’t until he’d made his way around the bed of the truck and opened her door that she could see he wasn’t comfortable with keeping the truth from his siblings. “Gwen left a message last night asking how I got the down payment for closing when I didn’t touch any of the mutual funds in my portfolio. I haven’t called her back, because I don’t want to lie to her.”
“You’re not still scared of your sister, are you, Lance?” Brynn teased, hopping down from the cab of the truck and losing her breath when Lance didn’t step back right away. The warmth from his body was a lot hotter than the morning sun. She wanted to soak in his heat, but she reminded herself that she wasn’t seventeen anymore. And he wasn’t the same young teenager, either. “You should call Gwen back so that she doesn’t get suspicious. Just tell her you didn’t need a down payment. Maybe she’ll assume you used your VA loan. If she asks you straight out, tell her it was something like that. She doesn’t need to know all the details.”
“Change of subject here, but thank you for spending time with me this morning.” Lance reached up and took a hold of one of her curls, wrapping the end of the strand around his finger. There was a sadness in his eyes that caused her heart to ache for this difficult transition back into the civilian world. He wiped his sorrow away with the smallest lift to the corner of his lips. “Byron doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
Brynn didn’t argue with Lance, because to do so would reveal that she was the one who distanced herself after only a couple of dates. Byron Warner was older by five or six years, but he was a little too set in his ways for Brynn. She wasn’t the type to kiss and tell, or in this case dine, so she remained silent as Lance led the way to the white pillared porch.
Lance held his arms up in the air with a sparkle of excitement in those blue eyes of his, reminding her of a kid in a candy store.
“Well, what do you think? It has potential, right?”
“I think a simple gallon or two of paint can make this place look brand new,” Brynn said, admiring the fact that the house was in better shape than she would have guessed after sitting empty for so long. “Calvin is going to love having you Kendalls back and fixing up every old house in town.”
Calvin Arlos owned the only hardware store in town. Granted, he liked to keep his own hours due to his love of fishing, but he could get his hands on practically anything anyone needed for a renovation such as this. The Kendalls weren’t known for outsourcing their labor, so it was already assumed they would do their own restorations. At least, most of the ones that didn’t require a qualified tradesman. Even most of that work would be done and only need to be inspected and signed off on the building permit by a licensed journeyman. She knew about all that tedious knowledge from the repairs Tiny and Rose had done themselves up at the lake.
“I think Noah’s business over the last couple of months alone is going to buy Calvin that new fishing boat he’s been talking about,” Lance said wryly, choosing a key on his keyring before even opening the screen door. “Add in the order I’m about to place and he might actually be able to buy his own dock instead of the one he rents from Tiny and Rose.”
Brynn had never before been inside Arthur Fetter’s residence, but she hadn’t expected the living room to be so large in the old farmhouse. The staircase that led up to the second floor was absolutely stunning—solid hardwood worn with time. It only needed a coat of good stain to be brought back to life once again. She could already picture in her mind the matching wood furniture Lance would no doubt make with his own hands.
“Lance,” Brynn murmured as she walked around the room and toward the staircase. “This is truly beautiful.”
Lance gave her a tour and painted a vision of warm colors, welcoming handmade furniture, and a décor that would envelop guests with open arms. A few of his ideas would require more than a few weeks and some paint, but at least he’d be able to move in while finishing up most of the renovations. She honestly couldn’t wait to see the finished product.
His phone rang right when she’d opened the door to the basement.
“Gwen?” Brynn guessed from the aggravated look on Lance’s face. He never was one to lie, which was usually why he ended up grounded back in high school. “Just answer her call and get it over with.”
“Easier for you to say,” Lance grumbled, swiping the display on his phone before pressing it to his ear. “Hey, sis. How are things going?”
Brynn motioned that she was going to finish her tour before flipping the switch to the lightbulb above the stairwell. She could only imagine how dark it would be had it been nighttime, but it was clear there was a window due to the sunshine lighting the bottom of the steps. She could see why Lance would want to rewire some of the electricity, especially if he were to finish the basement properly. As it stood, Arthur Fetter must have only used the basement for storage and shelter during storms.
It was decent-sized, and she could easily picture this being made into some type of game room, maybe with a pool table or a large television where he and his siblings could watch a football game while ragging one another. She stood in the middle of the room picturing another scene from the Waltons when something shiny caught her attention in the corner by the window.
Was that broken glass?
Brynn walked closer to where one of the daylight windows was installed, instantly noticing the change in temperature and the rise in humidity. Half the window had been shattered and part of the frame was damaged. The lever was clearly not latched, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out someone had broken into the house very recently.
“Lance!” Brynn spun around in dread and scoured the entire basement, figuring there could only be one hiding place. She’d seen enough horror movies to know she shouldn’t walk to the back of the cellar and underneath the stairs. Whoever had broken in could easily be hiding behind the furnace. “Lance, come down here quick!”
Brynn never took her eyes off the furnace unit underneath the stairs, not even when she heard Lance quickly descending the steps. Too many things had happened around Blyth Lake recently to take this type of thing lightly, especially considering what Lance had found inside this very house.
“Brynn, are you okay?” Lance asked worriedly, still holding his phone as he searched the basement for any reason she would have called out to him in fright. His gaze immediately landed on the broken glass and he held up his hand in warning as he walked directly to the only place one could hide down here. She braced herself for someone to rush forward and all but tackle Lance to the concrete floor, but nothing like that happened as he finished his short-lived search. “Son of a bitch.”
“What?” Brynn quickly stepped forward to see what had caught Lance’s attention. “What is it?”
“The cover to the furnace filter has been removed.” Lance reached out to show her, but was very careful not to touch the metal plate. His fingerprints were already on the metal, but he wouldn’t want to contaminate any other prints that the police may be able to obtain. “See? Someone didn’t slide the cover back onto these two tracks properly.”
Brynn looked over her shoulder at the damage to the window, wondering why someone would want to explore the same area where Lance had discovered the photographs. Her stomach revolted in disgust. The police had already combed through the grounds quite thoroughly. She suppressed the slightest of shivers.
Had the police missed something in their search that the killer wanted to retrieve? Did those pictures actually belong to the killer in the first place? Had he come back to place more evidence that could implicate Lance’s guilt?
She couldn’t stop her imagination from working overtime.
“Detective Kendrick?” Lance’s greeting on the phone had Brynn looking back at him to gauge his reaction to the detective’s response. “We have a problem. Someone broke into my house last night and messed with the furnace where I found the small tin of pictures. You might want to have your forensics team come back here to dust for prints, or search for whatever evidence that may have been left behind. No, I haven’t touched it.”
Brynn would have said yesterday that the pictures could have easily been mementos, though she couldn’t come up with a valid excuse as to why someone would have hidden them inside a furnace or its ductwork, let alone Arthur. It made no sense. So why in the world would some stranger have…
“That’s it,” Brynn exclaimed excitedly, resting a hand on Lance’s shoulder. He was listening intently to what Detective Kendrick had to say on the other end of the line, but this couldn’t wait. “Lance, ask him if it’s possible if someone planted those pictures to throw suspicion on Arthur or to shift blame onto the Kendall family.”
“Brynn Mercer is here with me.” Lance didn’t have to explain who she was, considering she’d spoken to Detective Kendrick over a month ago about Emma’s disappearance. Brynn hadn’t been able to add anything that hadn’t been in the original report, but she still held out hope that a fresh set of eyes might see something now that hadn’t been seen before. “Yes, sir. I’ll be here.”
“Well?” Brynn assumed that Detective Kendrick was on his way out here, but she’d love to know what he thought of her suggestion. “Does he think it’s possible?”
“First, let me just say I don’t like the excitement in your voice at thinking a serial killer is coming in and out of my house as if he owns the place.” Lance’s gaze drifted over the shards of glass in anger. “Second, Kendrick said he’s taking everything into consideration. He isn’t excluding any possibilities. He’s on his way, along with another forensic tech.”
“Lance, you’re misunderstanding me,” Brynn argued with a shake of her head. She waved a hand toward the window. “This proves that Arthur Fetter isn’t the serial killer. One, he’s in Florida right now. Two, he’s not in good enough health to break a window, crawl through it and drop four feet onto the concrete floor without breaking a hip, and then have the strength to hoist himself back up there on the ledge if he used the same way to get out.”
“That’s what worries me, Brynn.” Lance shot a quick glance of concern her way. “If Arthur Fetter isn’t the one we’ve been looking for, then the serial killer is most likely still here in Blyth Lake.”