CHAPTER EIGHT
Lance had been dealing with Detective Kendrick and his cronies for the last four hours. He’d had a forensics team come in and search the house from top to bottom, unable to find anything else that might give them more understanding as to why a metal tin with keepsake photographs had been hidden inside the furnace or the ductwork of the HVAC system.
Every minute that passed had spawned more questions for both of them.
And they were still ratcheting up in numbers.
This was the first time since he’d made the shocking discovery that he experienced some semblance of balance. Brynn always had been able to stabilize his emotions with a mere look of reassurance. She’d been his rock throughout his junior and senior years, even seeming to understand his need to graduate early and enlist in the Marines.
That life-changing decision had been hard on both of them, but for Lance it had been a foregone conclusion. He would have given anything had Brynn decided to join him after boot camp, but he’d understood her reasoning for staying behind with her adopted family.
Blyth Lake was her home, after all.
It wouldn’t have been fair to take her away from the only people she’d called family just to follow him around from one duty station to another. Lance had seen how hard deployments had been on his fellow Marines’ relationships. The Corps was very tough on the entire family as a general rule.
Yet this was still where he’d found himself compelled to go when he needed a bit of sanity after the discovery he’d made this evening.
“You saw Arthur walking down Seventh Street the night Sophia went to talk to Ms. Osburn?”
“In my defense, I never asked why Sophia and Emma wanted me to drive them into town that night. I was doing them a favor in return for another.” The subtle quality of the premium whiskey had definitely entered his bloodstream, reducing his inhibitions. Some of the shock from earlier was starting to wear off and the warm liquor was chasing away the cobwebs while lubricating his tongue. “If you remember correctly, Sophia promised she’d stand guard while we went for a certain swim later that night.”
A slight flush of color began to cover Brynn’s cheeks at the recollection, though it could have easily been due to the whiskey as well. There was something he wanted to say before they started to dissect past events.
“Brynn, I never did tell you how much it meant to me that you kept in touch that first year I was deployed. Your friendship…well, I didn’t take it for granted. It was hard when we grew apart and you stopped writing.”
Lance selfishly looked over her features, noting the slight differences between then and now. She had the most flawless skin he’d ever seen on a woman, and that hadn’t changed one bit. Her light coloring matched her blonde hair, which was currently pulled back at the nape of her neck. It was easy to see that she hadn’t touched the length, leaving it to fall just below her shoulders as she always had.
Her brown eyes used to remind him of those creamy, soft caramel candies the grocery store carried around Halloween time. It was also the ones his mother used to make those caramel apples that he loved so much. Brynn’s irises were still fawn colored, and damned if they still didn’t make a piece of him melt in her presence.
“Lance, there’s no denying that what we had back then was special for the both of us.” Brynn shifted in unease on the stool she was sitting on behind the bar, as if she would rather be discussing Arthur Fetter and the possibility that he was a serial killer. She always was a woman to face things head on, and now was no different. “Our decisions…we didn’t make them out of spite or in haste. We both chose our paths long before we hit our senior year. Bitterness doesn’t have a place between the two of us.”
Brynn appeared to hesitate briefly before she downed the rest of the contents in her glass. She leaned to the side and set the empty tumbler inside the sink. He was honestly surprised when she settled back into place and continued with the original topic of discussion. He thought maybe his time here had come to an end.
“Did you see Arthur’s car anywhere near where you parked your truck that night?”
Lance thought back to when Sophia and Emma had gotten out of his truck to walk in the direction of Main Street. He’d stayed behind and listened to music on the radio, not really concerned that someone would see his vehicle on that end of town. It was the reason he’d chosen that area to park to begin with, which was why he hadn’t paid much attention to any of the other vehicles on the street.
“I had other things on my mind back then,” Lance said honestly with a raised eyebrow. Another flush decorated her cheeks, but that didn’t stop her from explaining why she’d asked about Arthur’s car.
“He used to regularly visit his wife’s gravesite at the cemetery. Maybe he was either walking toward or away from there when you saw him.”
Brynn tucked that one loose lock of hair he’d been wanting to rub between his fingers behind her ear. She didn’t have to explain how she’d known that tidbit of information, because Lance used to accompany her on the weekends to the cemetery so that she could spend time at her parents’ graves.
Seriously, had there been anything they hadn’t known about each other back then?
“Arthur made a point to go to the graveyard on Sunday morning,” Lance gently reminded her, not needing to point out that a Tuesday evening was a far cry from the end of the week. At least, he thought he’d snuck the girls out on a Tuesday evening. It could have been Wednesday, but the same principle applied. “It doesn’t matter, Brynn. Detective Kendrick had a forensics team go through the house with a fine-tooth comb. While they didn’t find any evidence that he committed murder inside his home, that doesn’t mean—”
Brynn held up her hand before Lance could finish his sentence. She didn’t want to hear that Sophia had been murdered in Arthur Fetter’s house, because that could very possibly mean he’d done the same thing to Emma.
“I refuse to believe gentle-souled Arthur Fetter had anything to do with what happened to either Sophia or Emma.”
“You know, I was talking to Noah this morning about the cemetery being a good place to hide a body. It doesn’t seem so farfetched now, especially after I saw Fetter that night.” Lance lifted the glass to his lips and drained the rest of his whiskey without a flutter of his eye after having gotten used to the satisfying burn. He thought about having another, but he still needed to drive home. Well, to his father’s house, anyway. “Kendrick let me know that forensics didn’t find any blood in the house, but I’ll be staying with my dad for the next couple of days till I get things together over at the house.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Brynn agreed, resting both forearms on the wooden countertop. It was more than apparent she would wait for hardcore evidence before believing Arthur Fetter might very well be a serial killer. “Say you were right and Arthur did see Sophia and Emma that night. Why would he take Emma and then wait a year before targeting Sophia? It doesn’t make sense if your theory was right about him.”
“This is why we’re not detectives.” Lance wanted to make it very clear he didn’t have any intentions of getting involved in the murder investigation any more than he already was, and the same went for Noah. “Detective Kendrick has the photographs now. Maybe he can pull some prints off the pictures or the tin can they were kept in to prove Arthur knew about their existence.”
“Your fingerprints will be on the photographs as well.” It was uncanny how similar the two of them viewed situations, and this proved to him that their connection hadn’t been altered. She also proved that he wasn’t crazy to assume those kinds of things. “And Noah was one of the people to find Sophia’s body. Do you think—”
“Wait,” Lance interrupted with a bit of disbelief. He was totally on board with the fingerprints, and he’d even added his two cents about the cemetery, but Brynn was taking this to a whole new level. “You think one of us could have—”
“God, no,” Brynn protested, sitting up a little straighter as she defended her position. It was obvious he offended her for putting words into her mouth, but there had been an underlying accusation that he wasn’t so comfortable with, especially after tonight’s events. “No. That isn’t what I meant at all. I was suggesting that maybe someone has a grudge against your family and is trying to implicate one or more of you in this crime. Come on. You can’t tell me you don’t find it odd that two out of the five houses your parents purchased end up containing physical evidence that points toward Blyth Lake having a serial killer.”
Well, when she put it like that…
“But Sophia’s body was sealed inside that wall eleven years ago. No one could have known who would end up discovering the body, if anyone did. The pictures I found tonight were taken at least twelve years ago, maybe even longer than that if Detective Kendrick can get positive identifications on the other girls in those photos.” Lance couldn’t see how that could be connected to the Kendalls. “Mitch, Jace, and Gwen weren’t even in town back then. I can’t see how any of this could have anything to do with us.”
Brynn tossed out Jimmy Webb’s name, but Lance automatically rejected that idea. His uncle might not be the most upstanding guy, but he wasn’t a serial killer. To be quite honest, he wasn’t smart enough to pull something like that off without leaving behind evidence.
“The simple fact is that being an asshole doesn’t make one a murderer.”
It was going on zero four hundred before Lance realized it, both of them coming up with numerous scenarios as to who had access to the Anderson farmhouse and the Fetter property. Except for the subject matter, it was the most relaxing conversation he’d had since signing his discharge papers. Then again, that could have had something to do with the whiskey they’d consumed.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow.” Lance waited for Brynn to either accept his invitation or try to find an excuse as to why that wouldn’t be the best of ideas. Honestly, he thought it was a fantastic suggestion. He gently rested his hand on hers when it was obvious she was going to stand and push her stool back. “I’ve missed you for far too long, blondie.”
Brynn pursed her lips to keep from smiling at the old nickname he’d given her back in high school. She’d gone through a phase of listening to the old rock band, and he’d caught her singing at the top of her lungs at one of the intersections in town. It was in that moment when she hadn’t thought anyone was watching that he’d caught a glimpse of the carefree woman she was on the inside. That one hapless unguarded moment had captured the heart of a teenage boy.
There were times throughout the last twelve years that he wasn’t sure he’d ever gotten his heart back, because he’d never been able to fully commit to any other woman. Then again, it might have had to do with the fact that he’d been deployed every so many months. Military life was certainly hard on relationships, let alone committed ones.
“We went our separate ways, Lance,” Brynn said softly, though he could hear her regret. Still, she slowly pulled her hand from underneath his. “We can’t change what was done.”
“You’d be surprised at what could be changed if you want it bad enough.”
Lance stood and reached for his wallet, but the narrowing of her caramel colored eyes had him rethinking his gesture.
“This was two old friends having a drink,” Brynn said, tilting her head to one side as if she were sizing him up for some reason. “I’m not open for business.”
She only ever looked at him like that when she was about to propose something that would no doubt get them in trouble. He held up a finger and tossed her words back at her good-naturedly, though he respectively disagreed with her belief.
“We can’t change the past, as you said, so I’d rethink whatever it is you’re about to suggest.”
“Touché.”
Lance waited a few more seconds, hoping that she would throw caution to the wind and propose whatever had been on her mind.
“Stubborn,” Lance muttered with a shake of his head, her laugh ringing out over the bar as if it were Christmas. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed home until this very moment. What surprised him most was that he thought of her as home. “I have missed you, blondie. I can’t help but wonder how much time we’re both going to waste pretending we’re just old friends.”
Lance slapped the counter as a bid goodbye and then made his way toward the exit. He slowed his gait, hoping that she would change her mind about his invitation. The only sound he heard was running water, indicating that she was already washing away his presence.
He was confident her endeavor wouldn’t be that easy, because he could already tell the night ahead would be a sleepless one…and it had nothing to do with Sophia Morton, Emma Irwin, or Arthur Fetter. He’d done his duty and handed over the evidence he’d found in his house. As far as he was concerned, his part in that particular nightmare was done. What lay in his path was the fact that he had his own troubles to deal with.
No, sleep wasn’t in his foreseeable future, because he had no doubt that a certain blonde was all he’d see when he tried to close his eyes.
Brynn was right, in a funny kind of way.
Some things didn’t change just because some small measure of time had passed.