CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“I have to get downstairs,” Brynn murmured against Lance’s chest, having not one regret that they’d stayed in her bed for another hour. She wasn’t even sure how much commitment she had behind the words she’d just spoken. She could easily be talked into allowing Kristen to run the bar for the entire afternoon. “I’m surprised Kristen and Elm haven’t arranged to have us SWAT ‘knocked yet.”
“Kristen pulled into the lot the same time as I did this morning. I came in through the bar, not your private entrance.” The temporary pause in the light strokes on her arm told her that Lance heard the second name she uttered. “Wait. Who the hell is Elm?”
“My new cook. And he’s a damn good short order guy, so be nice or you’ll be the one hitting the road.”
Brynn didn’t need to issue that warning. In all honesty, Lance was always nice toward strangers. Noah and Mitch tended to cop a bit of an antisocial attitude every now and then, but not Lance. He always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, with the recent exception of assuming Arthur Fetter’s guilt in murdering Sophia Morton. In Lance’s defense, he had just found pictures of three potential victims…maybe more.
The town would now have something else to talk about other than Noah finding a young girl’s body in his house. Brynn should have been bothered by the fact that their midday rendezvous would be this afternoon’s fodder for the gossip mill, but she wasn’t ashamed in the least that the townsfolk were well aware she and Lance were getting reacquainted.
Then again, he had mentioned something else had happened with regard to Whitney.
Brynn squeezed her eyes tight and wished they didn’t have to face the day with all its uncomfortable details. She wasn’t ready for more ugliness, and she certainly didn’t want to hear the same words that had been relayed to her the day after Emma had gone missing twelve years ago.
“I like the tattoo,” Brynn whispered, buying herself more time as she lifted her lashes to brush her fingers over the letters. The words Semper Fidelis were tattooed in script lettering on the left side of his chest, right above his heart. The tattoo was done in black ink, but there was a slight reddish hue surrounding the unique scroll. That wasn’t what caught her attention, though. “What happened here?”
Brynn circled her finger around an old scar on his rib cage that was somewhat ragged in appearance.
She was surprised when Lance rolled her over onto her back and leaned up on his elbow so that he could see her expression. He’d caught on to her tactic to delay the inevitable. The softening of his blue eyes was almost her undoing.
“Please don’t tell me that they found Whitney’s body or anything like that,” Brynn whispered, wishing more than anything that they could resume their pillow talk. Why was life always intruding at the worst moments? “Wait. I don’t want to talk about something that horrible in a place we made our own oasis.”
“Understandable,” Lance replied softly, pulling her on top of him and kissing her until everything else faded away. She’d even kicked off the sheet so that she could settle her knees on either side of him. The heat of his torso chased away the coolness that had tried to invade their refuge. “Better?”
“Yes, very,” Brynn replied after nipping at his lower lip. The ringing of his cell phone popped the bubble of arousal they’d just begun to form. “Damn it.”
“We have to face reality at some point, blondie.” Lance kissed her fast and hard before shifting both of them so that they were half off the bed. Her bare feet made contact with the hardwood floor. “I’ll make us some coffee.”
“Coke. A cold one, too,” Brynn practically begged before walking to her armoire. She didn’t have a closet, but it wasn’t like she had to store two completely separate wardrobes. She didn’t have a corporate job and always wore the same basic denim jeans that made her days comfortable, along with shirts she didn’t mind spilling a beer on in the course of a shift. That didn’t mean she didn’t own a nice dress or two for those rare occasions when something more appropriate was required. “With ice, please.”
“Demanding, aren’t you?” Lance teased from his position on the bed. His hair was ruffled on top in that I just had fantastic sex style and his blue eyes screamed satisfaction. It made her want to take the day off and crawl back into bed with him, but that wasn’t going to happen today. He must have sensed her change in mood. His smile slipped. “One glass of Coke with ice coming up.”
It didn’t take long for Brynn to use the restroom and change into a pair of jeans and her favorite pink t-shirt. She always wore it when she was feeling down and out. This was her way of fending off whatever Lance needed to tell her about Whitney.
Sure enough, Lance was in her kitchen wearing nothing but his jeans. Even those were unbuttoned at the top, tempting her once more to forget about her responsibilities. The sight of a cold glass of ice with Coke poured over the cubes gave her the strength to face what was to come. She took a fortifying drink of the caffeine and sugar, steeling herself against the bad news. She waited for the addicting contents to hit her stomach before letting him know with a quick nod that she was ready to hear what he had to say.
“When I spoke with Detective Kendrick this morning, he informed me that another photograph was found on the seat in Whitney’s car.” Lance brushed her hair away from her cheek. She’d yet to secure it away from her face. It was more than apparent he was using the time to choose his words carefully. “It was a recent picture of Whitney, and yesterday’s date was handwritten on the back of the picture.”
Brynn almost choked trying to swallow around the sudden constriction in her throat. She was glad she’d taken a drink of caffeine first. It was obvious he was leaving something out from the hedging glance he’d thrown her way, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it. She blinked away the moisture that had gathered in her eyes and nodded once again, letting him know she was prepared for the rest of it.
“From what I understand, Whitney wasn’t alive in the picture, Brynn. According to the state forensics team’s preliminary examination of the photograph, it was more than obvious she was deceased.”
The blow from the news was overwhelming. Her chest tightened quite forcefully as she absorbed the news. She couldn’t imagine what Jeremy Bell was going through, nor could she fathom the hell Whitney must have dealt with in the facing her imminent death. She hadn’t been the nicest woman in Blyth Lake, but no one deserved to die at the hands of a vicious serial killer whom they thought to be their friend. It was as if the act was a double betrayal of the victim’s confidence, realizing your trusted neighbor wasn’t who you depended on them to be.
“I didn’t ask for details from Detective Kendrick, because I doubted he wanted to share them at this point in the investigation.” Lance leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms, but not because her apartment was cold. “None of this explains why someone would break into my home, though. It was all over town that forensics had gone through the house with a fine-tooth comb once again.”
“It would explain everything if the killer isn’t from our town,” Brynn said, almost with a sense of relief. It was a conceivable, however slim the chance. Somehow, it was better believing that Whitney hadn’t known the person who had taken her life. “Did Detective Kendrick give you any other ideas as to why someone would break into your basement?”
“None that makes any sense to me, if it’s at all related to the original case.”
“So what now?” Brynn asked, wondering if the state police would now request the help of Blyth Lake’s residents. She took another sip of her soda, needing the energy for what the day would bring them. “Do we canvass the wooded areas? Do we put together search parties to try and find her body? We can’t leave her out there or wherever the hell he might have…”
Brynn had been going to say the word dumped, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter the word. It was far too callous.
“Kendrick expressed his desire for the town to go about its normal business.” Lance ran a hand down his face in exhaustion. He was running on less sleep than she was, and she was partly responsible. She truly hadn’t thought he’d react in such a way to her leaving his place to sleep in her own bed. “So that’s what we’re going to do. He wants to meet with me and Noah later today, though.”
Brynn stepped forward and set her glass down on the counter before wrapping her arms around his waist. They’d just made love, so her support should be evident.
“I’ll go with you.”
“You mean you’ll get my six?” The smile Lance gave her didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’d normally welcome that, blondie, but you have work to do here. Noah and I are meeting him at my place in a couple hours.”
“Did Detective Kendrick say why he wanted to meet with you two?”
Brynn didn’t like that Lance was still being drawn into an investigation more than he already was in terms of those pictures being in his house. She didn’t want either one of them to get too close to whatever evil was circulating this town.
“No,” Lance replied, pulling her closer and resting his chin on top of her head. Tension was radiating off his shoulders. She wondered if there was anything she could say to pause time. “But I’m pretty sure it has to do with the fact that two of the most recently purchased houses by the Kendalls are tied to at least one of the murders, a disappearance, and possibly more if those photos mean anything. Honestly, I believe some folks are beginning to think I’m somehow involved in this investigation. The question remains…does Detective Kendrick?”
“Of course he knows that you and Noah aren’t involved.”
Right? She had to believe that the state police were more competent than Sheriff Percy. Now that man would have thrown any of them under the bus had it meant closing an investigation.
“Lance?” Brynn was uncomfortable with the possible connection that crossed her mind, but she’d been taught by Rose and Tiny that saying a fear out loud took away its power. She didn’t want to be right, so she whispered her inquiry and prayed he would deny her train of thought. “You don’t think Harlan could be…”
Brynn couldn’t finish, because it was a betrayal to verbalize the link she was still denying in her head. She’d known Harlan her whole life, and the man had never done anything to suggest he could do something so horrible to another human being.
“I don’t know,” Lance hugged her tighter, as if he too had wondered the same thing. “I don’t want to believe that anyone we know could have anything to do with those murders and kidnappings, but someone had access to both homes somewhere along the line.”
“Miles Schaeffer?” Brynn winced as she tossed out another name. These individuals had been a part of her and Lance’s childhoods. “He had access to both homes, didn’t he? I remember Miles helping Arthur out a few times around his property.”
“Honestly, I think every single resident in Blyth Lake had access to both properties at one time or another. Think about it. I have a pond on the edge of my place that has been known to be the best local site for bluegill fishing for more than twenty years. Noah’s barn, pasture, and pond were used by every teenager for years as a hangout and tailgating spot since we were in high school.” Lance’s sigh was one of frustration and resignation. He kissed the top of her head before pulling away and meeting her gaze with reassurance, though his body language was telling her something entirely different. “I’m sure this meeting is just to go over our limited involvement in making these discoveries and our knowledge of local comings and goings. It’ll be fine, blondie. Promise.”
Lance pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before stepping away and leaving the kitchen area to grab the rest of his clothes. She picked up her glass of Coke, taking a sip and looking over the rim to enjoy the view. One thing her parents’ death and Emma’s disappearance had taught her was to enjoy every precious second life could give her.
Slipping back into their old roles had almost been too easy, but she didn’t regret a moment. Brynn had no idea what the future held for them both, and that was okay too. She’d also learned to take her life day by day…one moment at a time.
Why, then, did it feel as if those minutes and hours were limited?
Brynn had gone through that sense of loss in her junior year, knowing that Lance was graduating early and would leave Blyth Lake the instant he had his diploma in hand. Those ticking sounds on the clock had been one of impending doom.
Was it because of Whitney’s death? Was it because evil had unknowingly slithered into Blyth Lake years ago, touching each of them in a manner that couldn’t easily be dismissed? Or was it simply that being with Lance brought up these pensive emotions?
“Why target the Kendalls?” Brynn muttered, focusing on something other than the fact she’d just opened herself back up to be hurt like she’d done so many years ago. She was getting involved once again with the man who held her heart and had the ability to crush her soul. It had been that way when they were teenagers, and nothing had changed since.
Her gaze dropped to the ice floating in her soft drink. The cubes were helpless against the beverage’s carbonation. The process of disintegration was similar to what the town was experiencing in regard to the tragedies that kept unfolding before them.
Hell, look at how easily she’d thrown out names of those residents she’d known her whole life. Hadn’t she wondered how long it would be before the townsfolk started to turn on one another? The media wasn’t helping, seeing as they were trying to sow seeds of distrust with how the Kendalls were connected to Sophia’s murder, along with the pictures found in Lance’s home.
Was that why Detective Kendrick wanted to speak with Lance and Noah? Did the state police buy into the hype? Did they believe that the Kendalls were involved? Brynn couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that the walls of this investigation were closing in, but she’d be damned if she were going to step aside and allow them to close in on the man she’d just allowed back into her life.
“Lance, I changed my mind,” Brynn called out, setting her drink on the counter and heading for the bathroom to make herself more presentable. “I’m going with you to your meeting with Detective Kendrick.”