Cold Snap, page 14
STAY AWAY FROM GRADY STEEL IF YOU KNOW WHATS GOOD 4U.
She squinted at the text that came from an unknown source. “You have got to be kidding me.”
IS THIS YOU, CALEB?
She stared at her messages, but the phone remained stubbornly unresponsive.
24
Grady had taken the time to change into all black before he’d headed back out into the snowy night. He’d stuck to the shadows as he’d silently worked his way to the alley that bordered the Sea Spray Café.
Had Brynn sensed something last night? Something beside a feral cat?
Milton Bodurek’s killer perhaps?
Grady stood for a few minutes listening for anyone else who might be out here in the darkness.
The smell of frozen, stale garbage from a nearby trashcan filtered through the ever-present scents of a Down East winter—brine, seaweed, dirty snow.
The gulls were silent for once, but the boats rang out their perpetual percussion to the restless motion of the ocean.
The air felt taut, as if waiting for something to happen.
He inched up the alley until he reached the café and shone his red flashlight over the ground. The slicing wind scoured away any trace of footprints. Even his own had disappeared behind him.
A quiet hiss almost made him jump out of his skin, but he thrust aside the surprise and pushed open the wooden gate that led into the yard of the building next door to the café.
He shone the flashlight quickly around the shadows, but there was no one there except for a ferocious-looking orange tabby who eyed Grady as if he was considering him for dinner.
He ignored the cat and turned his attention to the ground. Paw prints crisscrossed the frozen mud, along with a few bird tracks and a scatter of bloody feathers.
Several shoe and boot prints were clearly visible on the ground along with a smattering of cigarette butts.
Margery Tomey, who ran the high-end gift shop, was a tiny woman in her early sixties. He didn’t think she was the boot-wearing, cigarette-smoking type.
She wasn’t married or living with anyone. Maybe she had someone who worked for her, but it didn’t seem to fit his idea of the woman or her shop. Deliveries went in the front door from his recollection.
He placed a quarter beside the prints and took a few shots with his cell, including some close-ups.
He pulled out an evidence envelope from a vest pocket and collected the cigarette butts. Stuffed them in his pocket.
It was probably nothing. People having a quick smoke. Maybe the cook from the café…
Grady’s FBI colleagues were doing a deep dive into Angus Hubner, but getting a sample of his DNA might speed up the process.
The cat hissed again and Grady wondered if he could find a way to trap it and take it to the vet, find it a nice home in a warm barn somewhere.
The animal seemed to read his mind and turned and jumped up and over the neighboring fence.
He smiled.
Instinct was a beautiful thing.
A moment later something crashed into his skull and Grady was driven to his knees.
He swore.
Another blow had his brain ringing as he lay for a split-second face down in the snow, bleeding like a stuck pig from his scalp.
He quickly rolled, breathing hard. Spotted his assailant, also wearing dark clothing complete with a ski mask, darting out the gate. Grady got to his knees and braced one leg to stand. Nausea hit him in a wave that had him swaying.
Fuck.
He threw up, then staggered to his feet. Followed his attacker down the alleyway. He spotted the asshole jumping into a white van before accelerating away.
Grady braced himself against a lamppost feeling like a goddamn fool. He’d let himself get distracted by a cat. Blood continued to drip down his face and neck, and his vision wasn’t as sharp as he’d like. He spit out the sour taste in his mouth.
The blows could have killed him. If he didn’t have such a thick head, they probably would have. The cold started to penetrate his layers, and he wondered if his attackers’ plan had been to leave him unconscious in the snow, slowly bleeding out and freezing to death.
Grady took photographs of the tire tracks and footprints and watched the crime scene tape flutter at the marina. Then he called his boss.
25
Brynn carried the shopping bags through the door of her parents’ house and placed them on the kitchen counter. “Hey there.”
Her dad turned from the stove where he was tasting from a large saucepan. “You’re early.”
She pulled him down to kiss his bearded cheek. She wasn’t about to tell him she couldn’t sleep because whenever she’d closed her eyes, she dreamed of Milton Bodurek’s pale corpse waking up and smiling at her. Or that someone had used an anonymous text as a cowardly way of warning her away from a man she’d almost thrown herself at last night.
She peered into the pot. “What’re you making?”
The corners of her father’s blue eyes crinkled attractively as he smiled. “Chicken noodle soup. Good for the soul, apparently. Not as good as Angus’s, but pretty damn tasty if I do say so myself.”
“No one is as good as Angus. Let’s hope he never figures it out, or he’ll want a raise.”
“We should probably give him one anyway.”
“I’ll speak to the manager.” She took a spoon and tasted. “Wow, Dad, that’s delicious. I know who to call if we get stuck in the café.”
He chuckled the way she’d hoped.
“I’ll go fetch the rest of the shopping before—”
“I’ll do it. You go in to see your mother. She’s sick of my face. I’ll bring you some brunch through in a little while. In the conservatory.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Brynn slipped off her shoes then unwound her scarf and draped it over the back of a bench that sat under the kitchen table. She slipped off her coat and did the same, then braced herself before walking through the formal living room to the bright sunny conservatory that her dad had put on the house years ago. Even though it was January, the room was full of lush, blooming plants and two matching recliners. Her mom sat in one, her eyes closed, her skin almost translucent. Today she wore a soft T-shirt and stretchy pants. Her mom had gained a few pounds, either from the treatment itself or the fact she wasn’t as active as she used to be. Her formerly thick red hair was shaved off, and she wore a silk scarf on her head that was deep crimson.
Brynn knew her mother’s changed appearance bothered her, but hair grew back, and people could regain their fitness—as long as they were alive.
Brynn held her breath, unwilling to disturb her mother’s rest but Gwendolyn Webster must have sensed her presence and opened her eyes. She scanned Brynn up and down as if to reassure herself that she was okay.
Brynn came fully inside the room, leaned over, and kissed her papery cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than I did yesterday. I thought you weren’t coming by until this afternoon. It’s not even eleven.”
“I woke at the crack of dawn and knocked out the projects I needed to get done in record time. Figured I’d come over early and scrounge some food.”
“Ha. Hardly scrounging. We owe you so much for coming back to run the café.” Her mother’s smile was slightly bashful. “I guess your father and I both secretly hope you might decide to stay.” She squeezed Brynn’s hand. “But we also realize that’s selfish. I miss you when you aren’t around, though.”
A wave of guilt rushed over Brynn.
“And I want you to be happy.” Her mom might be sick, but she didn’t miss much. “Ever since that idiot left, I’ve been worried about you.”
“I don’t want to talk about Aiden.”
Brynn sat in what was usually her dad’s recliner. From here, they could look outside and see the birds on the feeders that her dad had hung on high branches out of the reach of deer.
In summer, the hummingbirds returned, and those feeders were maintained religiously.
Her parents had five acres surrounded by a mixed forest of evergreens and deciduous trees. A small stream ran behind the property. They had a large vegetable plot and a flower garden that was full of daisies, salvia, lavender bushes, and hydrangeas when it bloomed. A climbing rose sprawled over the brick wall of the original part of the house. The addition sat at a right angle.
Her mother was the architect of what went where in the house and the garden, but Brynn’s father was the brawn. A former military man, he enjoyed the work. He might grumble when he had to move a shrub for the third time, but Brynn had a feeling he secretly loved it. As long as her mother was happy, he was happy.
“I hear we have a new server?” Her mom thankfully changed the subject.
“You spoke to Linda?”
“I did indeed. I could hear Kent grumbling in the background about wanting his wife back.” Gwendolyn rolled her eyes. She wasn’t a fan of her friend’s husband.
“Kent wants her to retire. You both should think about retiring.”
“And do what? Sit here day after day driving your father batty?”
“That’s generally what happens.” Brynn reached out a hand and took her mom’s. “Travel maybe? Get a hobby?”
Her mother snorted. “Maybe I’ll take up horseback riding.”
“Why not?” asked Brynn. “You have fields for a couple of horses and room in the barn for dad to make a stable. And just so you know, I put an ad in the paper for another server.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Can we afford two new hires?”
Brynn leaned back in the chair and flicked the mechanism so it went back. “Yes, you can afford two new hires, and I can’t afford to neglect my own business, which I have been doing the past few weeks. Jackie isn’t reliable, and Linda wants to cut her hours or retire. Hiring two new people would give us all some breathing room.”
Brynn watched her mother through her lashes. She didn’t look happy, but she also didn’t look like she was going to fight her on this either.
A welcome change.
She heard the rattle of the trolley, and a moment later, her father rolled in two bowls of soup, freshly made bread still steaming from the oven, and a plate of cheese, crackers, and fruit.
“You’re not having any?” asked Brynn.
“I’m going to nip out to the hardware store and pick up a few things. I want to make a chicken coop and start producing our own eggs.”
Her mother’s expression was not impressed, nor was her tone. “Chickens.”
“What’s wrong with chickens?” her dad asked patiently.
Her mother’s lips quirked. “Who’s going to look after them when we retire and travel the world?”
Her dad grinned. “Maybe Brynn will house-sit.”
“She’s not going to meet a man sitting out here looking after chickens.”
“I don’t want to meet a man,” Brynn muttered in annoyance. Nor did she particularly want to look after chickens.
“I heard that Grady Steel has matured into quite a hotty.” There was a gleam in her mother’s eyes. “I always liked that young man despite what some people said about him.”
Brynn’s brows stretched high.
She thought about the kiss she’d pressed to his cheek last night. It had been chaste, and it was almost sweet that he hadn’t grabbed her and tried for more—possibly disappointing. But she was quietly relieved that he hadn’t been home when she’d gone upstairs, although she did wonder where he’d disappeared to. She realized now she wasn’t quite ready to make the leap into a physical relationship. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be truly ready to make that leap again.
“You and Linda apparently had a lot to discuss,” Brynn said wryly.
Her mom cackled then started coughing. Her dad quickly raised the back of her chair. Her mom waved him away as she recovered. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Go buy your bits and pieces you need for your chicken coop. Although, why you don’t already have everything in that enormous workshop of yours…”
He hovered beside the chair. “You’re sure you’re okay, love?”
“Yes.” She smiled patiently. “I’m fine. Now go so I can eat before it gets cold.”
“I’ll be here, Dad. Take all the time you need.” Brynn knew looking after her mom had taken a toll on him, not just the daily care, but taking her to treatment, worrying about her constantly. Maybe Brynn should move back home and help out more. She’d wanted to maintain some independence, and her mother didn’t like being fussed over at the best of times but…
Her dad hesitated. “If you’re sure.”
“Get out of here. I want to pump Brynn for information about hot guys, and you need a break. Go relax for a few hours.”
He rested his hands on his hips. “I’m going to buy wood, not hit the spa.”
“Do you want to hit the spa?” her mom asked.
“I’d rather stick pins in my eyes, but I’ll go if it makes you happy.”
Her mom’s eyes grew shiny. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
Her dad leaned down and kissed her. “I’m the lucky one. You concentrate on getting better.” Her father’s voice wasn’t quite steady as he squeezed his wife’s thin shoulders and strode quickly out the door.
Her mom watched him go, and they both listened as the car started and he drove away.
“The man is a damn saint to put up with me all these years.”
Brynn rolled her eyes. “I think he likes it well enough.”
“I guess. Promise me you’ll look after him if anything happens to me, Brynn.”
“Don’t think that way.”
“I have cancer. I have to think that way.” Her mom arched the bare skin where her eyebrows used to be. She meticulously drew them back on when she went out and wore a stylish wig, but she didn’t bother when at home. “Promise.”
Brynn huffed out a breath and picked up her soup bowl. “Eat your lunch, and I’ll think about it.”
“Stubborn minx.”
She sipped her soup. “Who do I take after, I wonder?”
Her mother’s smile grew sad as she carefully picked up a hunk of bread and slowly started chewing.
“So is Grady Steel hot, or is Linda exaggerating?” her mom asked after a few bites. “I mean, she married Kent.” She chuckled at her own joke.
“I suppose.” Brynn shook her head in exasperation. “Well, he looks like he works out.”
“Ha!” Her mother was delighted with the observation. “Did he say why he was in town beside the obvious that we’ve all seen on the Internet?”
“Only that he was deciding what to do with his grandmother’s house while the FBI cleared his name.” Brynn took a hunk of bread to go with the soup and thought about that text warning her off the guy. “I can tell you one thing you are not allowed to share, not even with Linda.”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky swear.”
“He didn’t know Crystal was using the place as an online B&B.”
“What?”
“From what I can gather it’s his house, but she was supposed to be looking after it for him.”
“But she told us it was both of theirs and that she bought him out.”
“Apparently not.” Brynn spoke around the bread she chewed.
“That’s hateful. She’s spent years ripping into him when he’s not here to defend himself, and the whole time she was fleecing him. What a miserable human being Crystal Grogan is.” She ate another swallow of soup. “Why aren’t I allowed to share? Might make the people around here a little less liable to think badly of him. Ban her from the café.”
“I’m not going to ban her from the café. Grady doesn’t want to give her a reason to hate him more.” She cleared her throat. “And it’s possible I already banned Caleb Quayle and two of his asinine friends from the café for attacking Grady in the bar last night. Probably shouldn’t ban everyone in town if we want to survive.”
“Caleb Quayle is like his father and uncles. A drunk and a bully. I take it Grady dealt with them?”
“Yeah. He wasn’t hurt. Caleb was drunk and said some things that upset me. I banned him for life.”
“You were in the bar?” Her mother wore an innocent smile.
“I went for a quick drink after I closed up—”
“With Grady?”
“Don’t read anything into it,” she warned.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The smile on her mother’s face suggested otherwise.
“I’m not interested in relationships. Not after…”
“Who is talking about a relationship? A fling would be fine.”
“Mom!”
“You’re twenty-eight years old, Brynn, not seventy-eight. Just because you married a loser doesn’t mean you have to stop living.”
Brynn froze. “I haven’t stopped living.”
Her mother picked at her bread like a little bird. “You’re scared, love. I understand that.” She finished her soup and put the spoon on the tray. “But life is short, and it’s a crime to waste it.”
“Dammit, Mom.” She held out her hand and gripped her mother’s. “How am I supposed to argue with you right now?”
“Don’t argue. I’m always right anyway. Live a little. Enjoy yourself while you can.”
“Ironic, given all those years you spent telling me not to have sex…”
“When you were a kid, sure. That’s my job.”
“Remember when I went on a date with Darrell York those few times? You practically frog marched me to the doctor’s office for birth control.”
Her mom gave an exaggerated shudder. “You were going off to college. The idea of you getting pregnant when the world was on the verge of opening up for you horrified me.”
Brynn didn’t disagree. “You needn’t have worried.”
She’d had some old-fashioned notion of saving herself for someone special. Unfortunately, that someone special had destroyed her. But she smiled remembering that awful first date with Darrell. “The best contraception in the world was spending a little one-on-one time with the good deputy.”
