And he was left to pick up the pieces.
But, later. Right now—“Are you coming or not?”
“Of course I am. But I’m driving. I’d like to live, please.”
Jericho narrowed his eyes.
“And I know a shortcut.”
Jericho slapped the keys into his hand.
14
Pastor Neil’s wordsabout a new heart echoed in Harley’s mind as she stood in Pete Barrow’s kitchen, the man’s body sprawled over a puddle of rusty blood.
Jericho would be so proud of her. She hadn’t charged in alone, hadn’t let her need for answers override common sense. She’d been downright calm.
Not at all impulsive.
Fact was, she hadn’t even planned on showing up at Pete Barrow’s house. Not when she had coloring to do with Daniel, and maybe even some catch-up with Gabe.
And then she made the mistake of mentioning the conversation with Barry Kingston about Pete running fuel shipments to Gabe who had insisted on coming with her to Pete’s place. Just to talk, he’d said.
Suddenly she ended up in her rental Jeep with her brother, an eerie version of a future she’d hoped to have with her dad.
Fighting crime together.
Except Pete wouldn’t be talking to anyone, not anymore.
A brisk wind keened through the eaves of Pete’s cabin, which sat about seven miles from town, on a service road to the skihill. The kitchen was a 1970s time capsule—avocado green appliances, faded contact paper on the cabinets.
The afternoon sun slanted through unwashed windows, painting Pete’s body in amber. He was sprawled on the scuffed linoleum, face-up, blood pooled beneath his head, neck opened in a precise crimson line. The scent of stale coffee burned against something that caught in the back of her throat.
“I called Deke,” she said, her voice coming from down the hall to Gabe. “We have about ten minutes.”
“Give me a second here, would you?” His voice came from the back bedroom.
Maybe she should try Jericho again. She’d called three times, texted once.
She’d bet he and Hudson were elbow-deep in some greasy project at the Eagle’s Nest. Bonding.
Next to her, Orlando sat, whined. She put a hand on his head. “It’s okay, bud. We’re safe.”
But oh, the urge in her to see if Orlando could pick up some sort of scent, maybe hunt down the killer, nearly made her do dangerous things.
Yeah, good way to get Jericho to murder her—unauthorized use of his scent dog.
Gabe came out of the room holding a laptop in his gloved hands. “Why’d you have to call it in?”
“Because I’m a licensed investigator who follows proper procedure and calls law enforcement immediately upon discovering a crime scene.” She pointed to the computer. “You just going to swipe that?”
“Yep.” He put the computer on the table. Then he started to open kitchen drawers.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for anything connecting Pete to whoever killed him.”
“That’s tampering with a crime scene.”