“Okay,” he said after a couple deep breaths and a few more bracing slaps. The night air was crisp and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, which woke him up more than anything. “Why are you pounding on my door at one in the morning? Unless you do want to help me out with that situation you were referring to, in which case, we should go inside. I’m not much of an exhibitionist, and I’m pretty sure your kids could see us from the house.”
“You are such an asshole.”
“Duly noted. You’re pounding on my door in the middle of the night. Why?”
“What were you saying to Aaron at the diner today?”
He frowned. “What?”
“Before you started charming my mother with your polite-as-shit cute cowboy routine, what were you and Aaron talking about?”
He smiled. “Your mom likes me, doesn't she?”
Jena pulled at her hair, obviously frustrated. “Caleb!”
“There are so many better ways you could be shouting my name right now.”
She held up a furious finger at him. She was practically vibrating with anger. “You cannot blame that on the sleep at this point. I will slap you.”
Jena moved toward him and Caleb ducked to the side, slipped behind her, and pulled her back into his chest, wrapping a long arm around her waist as he pulled them back to lean against the cool aluminum siding of the trailer. Then he ducked down and whispered in her ear, “Can’t slap me now, can you?”
She was still tense, but he felt her move into him, ever so slightly, and he smiled. Curious Jena was even better than Dream Jena.
“Let me go.”
“Why are you mad? I was just talking to him. He was sad about Alma.” He paused and leaned his chin down to rest on her shoulder. “I was just trying to help. I’m sorry if I upset you. He’s a great kid, and I hated to see him so down.”
Her shoulders relaxed a little, and he rested his cheek against her neck. “He said you’re going to find out why she died.”
“I am.” He let his nose run along the shell of her ear. She smelled like the bar, but underneath? All Jena. He took a deep breath and felt her shiver.
She put her hands over his where they lay at her waist, but she didn’t pull them away. “You have to stop investigating this. It was an animal attack.”
“I believe you. It was also murder.” He brushed his lips against her temple. “I know it, and you know it. I’m not sure how it all fits together, but—”
“Caleb—”
“I can’t let it go,” he whispered, tightening his arms around her. “She deserves more than that, and you know it. Why won’t you help me?”
Jena stilled for a moment, then slowly pried his hands away from her waist. He let her. She stepped away as he leaned against the side of the trailer, watching her. She didn’t look mad at him anymore. She looked upset, maybe even a little scared. Caleb wanted to rage at whatever unseen thing had put that look on her face.
“You’ve got to stop. Let it be, Caleb.”
“You know I won’t.”
Her mouth firmed and a sad resolve came into her eyes. “Then you better stay away from my kids. I won’t have them hurt because of you.”
His instincts pricked. “Why would they get hurt because of me?”
Jena opened her mouth, then closed it.
“Why, Jena?”
She shook her head and started backing away. “Just stay away from them. And me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Saturday night, Jena and Allie tucked their kids into the den at Jena’s house for a mass sleepover while the grown-ups had a meeting. Tom and Cathy had gone to meet with the other elders about who would take over Alma’s seat on the council; so Jena, Ted, Allie, Alex, Ollie, and Devin sat around the table behind the house, Jena checking carefully to see if there was any movement from Caleb’s trailer. It was completely dark.
Was he out? Where would he go?
“Who’s working The Cave tonight, Ollie?” she asked.
“My cousin Sandra said she could watch it. She’s a pretty good bartender and the band I scheduled for tonight had a breakdown outside of Vegas, so it shouldn’t be too busy.”
“Sandra?” The tall, statuesque brunette from Palm Springs was stunning. And had great hair. Hopefully, it’s a bad hair night.
“Why are you talking about Sandra’s hair?” Ted gave her a funny look.
Oops, must have said that aloud.
“What? No reason.” She looked around the table. “Anyone need another drink before we start?”
Alex waved a hand. “Sit down, Jena. We all know where the beer is. Let’s talk.”
“Fine.” She looked around at her closest friends. “So we all know Alma was murdered. The question is, who was it? There’s no way the police can solve this because they can’t know the real story, but between the six of us, we should be able to narrow it down. Devin?”
The deputy looked up. “Yeah?”
“You want to help us out any, Mr. Deputy Sheriff?”
“Uh… Jen, the only dead people I’ve ever investigated ended up being killed over a woman or drugs, so I’m not sure how much help I’m gonna be.”
Ollie said, “I think it’s fairly safe to assume that neither of those motives is going to match Alma’s case.”
“Well,” Jena said, “what motives would? Are we all assuming this has something to do with the resort vote?” She saw Alex pale and quickly added, “It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah…” He frowned. “But it kind of is. I wish I’d never even—”
“Suggested something that could benefit the town tremendously?” Ted asked. “This had nothing to do with you, Alex. It had something to do with a killer not getting their way and thinking getting rid of Alma would help them. This is not your fault.”
For some reason, Jena knew Alex needed to hear it from someone other than her. She was grateful Ted had spoken up. “She’s right. The only one to blame for this is whoever killed Alma.”
Alex still looked guilty, but his expression steeled, and he nodded.
“Getting back to what Ollie was saying,” Allie said, “what would be the motive?”
Jena shrugged. “It’s like Ted said. They thought it was going to help them somehow. And if their goal was to get the resort built, it probably worked. My dad and I have talked about it. He thinks it’s worth the risk of exposure to save the jobs. I’m pretty sure he’ll vote yes.”
“So whoever killed Alma is getting what they want,” Devin said. “Who would have benefited the most from this resort?”
Alex raised a hand. “Me.”
Sitting at his desk, Caleb stared at the whiteboard he’d started. He didn’t have much else to do on Saturday night since he didn’t feel like going down to The Cave alone. A little voice in the back of his head told him that he probably wouldn’t have to leave alone, but he shoved it aside. He was still fixated on Jena and didn’t want to bother with anyone else. It was an unusual feeling, but he was getting more and more comfortable with it as the weeks passed.
Jena. The damn woman turned him inside out and left him wanting more even when she was mean to him. And she was royally pissed that he wouldn’t back down about Alma’s death. She hadn’t spoken to him since the night at his trailer.
So, Caleb’s hot Friday night consisted of staring at the murder board he’d started for the woman no one would admit had been murdered. The first name that hit him was Alex McCann.
McCann had motive, for sure, but something struck Caleb as not quite right about that theory. For one, he was obviously close to Jena. Family, almost. McCann was unlikely to kill a woman who had fed him cookies as a child. Of course, he could have ordered it done. He had the money for it and the motive. On the other hand, he didn’t really have all that much to lose if the resort didn’t happen. He could always move back to L.A. and continue his real estate business, which was—from all accounts—very successful.
Although… he was a hothead who was used to getting his way.
No, that didn’t seem to fit, either.
Maybe that was Caleb’s hang-up with the man as a suspect. He was too hotheaded. He’d lose his temper with Alma, but commit a murder so careful that he’d covered any evidence of it even being a murder in the first place? He didn’t think McCann thought that way. Caleb would check his alibi, but McCann wasn’t high on the list.
Alex continued. “I obviously didn’t kill her, but let’s face it. I had the most to gain.”
Ted spoke up. “Not really. You had the most to lose, too, since you were putting up the money. If this doesn’t work, you can just go back to your life in L.A.”
Alex shrugged. “I’ve told my dad I’m moving back anyway. I’m done with L.A.”
“You are?” Ted looked surprised.
“The whole pack knows. Theoretically, one of them could have tried to pin it on me, but I don’t see why.”
“I thought it was a cat. We think it could be one of the wolves?” Allie looked uncomfortable with the idea of the pack being involved. Though she was a fox and didn’t belong to the pack in the strictest sense, all the canines had family connections.
“We’re fairly sure it’s a cat,” Alex said. “Jeremy said the strongest scent at the site was definitely feline, but there were others, too. Alma wasn’t a hermit. She had lots of visitors. Jeremy scented lizard. Bird, obviously. Canine. Bear. Cat was just the strongest scent.”
Caleb moved to the next person who had caught his attention. Good old Mayor Matt.
Something about the overly friendly man bothered him and it wasn’t just the abundance of aftershave. No, Matt was shifty. More, he was frustrated by a sense of his own unachieved greatness. He had the appearance of power, but none of the real deal, and Caleb could tell it was eating at the man. This resort was something he’d worked on with McCann, and it represented a concrete contribution to the town. It was the Big Deal. The legacy that everyone would point to if things went right. If that greatness were held up by one old woman…
Well, that could be mighty frustrating.
Could Matt have planned something this carefully? Caleb had an easier time believing it than he did with Alex McCann. Matt was a politician and, by nature, untrustworthy. In Caleb’s experience, they had a deft hand at saying one thing and meaning another. And politicians were especially good at justifying their actions if they thought it was for the “greater good.” Even if it was a small corner of the world, it was Mayor Matt’s corner, and he had yet to make his mark.
Ego, Caleb had learned, was more of a motivator than most people realized.
“So we’re not sure it’s a cat?” Ollie asked. “What else—?”
“There were claw marks, Alex. Fresh claw marks at the back door. I saw them. That’s a hard coincidence to dismiss.”
Alex held his hands up toward Jena. “I know, and I’m not saying we dismiss them, but…”
“There are other things with claws,” Ted said.
“Like what?”
“Birds.” Devin looked uncomfortable even saying it. “I mean…”
“Someone in my family?” Jena was incredulous. “Our clan is pretty small, Devin. And most of them don’t even live here.”
He shrugged. “I’m just throwing it out there.”
“What about canines?” Allie added. “A desert fox or a coyote—”
“They were too narrow for canine claws,” Jena said. “Too sharp.”
“Lizards,” Ollie said in a low voice. Everyone turned to him. “Hey, there are lots of lizards that have claws and some of them are pretty damn big. Ever seen a Komodo dragon?”
“Have you ever seen a Komodo dragon?” Ted stared at him. “Who around here has a Komodo dragon as their natural form? Gila monster, maybe, but dragon?”
“Any shifter with skill can turn into any species with enough practice,” Ollie said. “Even if a rattlesnake was your natural form, you can still shift into a lizard. I saw Sean shift into a Gila monster once to scare Sarah Ryan.”
Allie murmured, “The things high school boys do…”
Alex said, “He’s right. It could be a lizard.”
Jena held up a hand. “One, it would have to be something big enough to take down a full-grown owl. Alma was not small in her natural form, and I doubt she would have shifted to anything else if she was panicking. Two, we’re talking about a moon night. Shifting into another species is possible most of the time, but on a moon night?” She paused. “Come on! Have you guys ever even tried it?”
Devin raised a hand. “Okay, non-shifter here, but aren’t the old people good at doing that?” Everyone stared at him and he started to squirm. “I’m just saying, isn’t that skill supposed to come with age? Maybe one of the elders could shift into something like a Komodo dragon if they tried.”
One of the elders? Jena’s stomach dropped even thinking about the possibility.
Caleb stared at the picture of Old Joe Quinn. Damn. He liked the old guy. Really liked him, despite the innate criminal vibe he got off the man. But if he was considering suspects, Old Quinn had to be on the list.
He’d heard the man himself, railing to anyone who would listen at the farm supply store about that “damn old bird” who was going to ruin his family. The Quinns owned the land adjacent to the McCann’s and Caleb knew Alex had already spoken to Old Quinn about buying the property. The Quinn family was big, and from what Caleb could tell, kind of broke, too. Most of them lived on the edge of the town. A few seemed to be pretty successful, but a lot of them made up the unemployed masses that had been laid off with the recent base closures. Joe Quinn was the head of a whole clan of unemployed, borderline shady people, who had the opportunity to make a lot of money before the possibility was snatched from under his nose.
But was he smart enough to plan a murder?
Damn it, he was. The old man had a mind like a steel trap. More than that, he had the type of scheming smarts that effective criminals and shady lawyers seemed to share. Caleb grimaced. If he had to pick one man in Cambio Springs who could plan a criminal operation, Joe Quinn would be it.
His shoulders slumped, Caleb decided that it was time to go home.
The next day didn’t improve much when Alex McCann stormed out of the police station, ranting about “good-for-nothing outsiders who need a damn hobby.”
Caleb turned to Jeremy, who was eyeing him with caution. “What?” Caleb bit out. “I asked him for his alibi and he acts like it’s a federal offense. He’s an asshole.”
His deputy shrugged. “I think it’s more the implication that he murdered one of his best friend’s relatives. You know, the one who fed him cookies when he was little and let him sleep over at her house?”
He threw up his hands in frustration. “Everyone in this damn town is related! Or friends with someone who’s related. Or… married to someone who’s friends with someone who once volunteered at the library with Alma on Saturdays, so they couldn’t possibly have done it!”
“Uh, Chief…”
He stomped back to his desk, steaming. “If we’re going to find out the truth, then you’re going to have to deal with the fact that someone you know—are possibly related to—and probably like, was involved in Alma Crowe’s murder.”
Jeremy was utterly silent. Caleb finally turned around. He’d expected Jeremy to be angry. Or frustrated. Maybe even a little amused at his outburst. But he wasn’t.
He had the same look that Jena had the other night. Worried. Scared. Not of him, for him.
“Chief,” he said softly. “I think you’re a hell of a cop. I like you, and I really admire your determination on this. But you’ve got to let this go. This was an animal attack. Can’t you realize that?”
Caleb’s anger got the better of him and he stormed over to Jeremy, shoving the younger man up against the wall and pinning him with his glare.
“It was not an accident. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. And I am going to find out why the hell everyone who’s supposed to be helping me is lying to my f
ace!”
He let go of Jeremy’s shoulder, grabbed his keys, and strode out to his truck.
Jena frowned when she heard the pounding on the door. She looked at the clock. The boys weren’t due home for another hour and the diner had been slow, so her dad had told her to go home and catch up on the housework she’d been griping about. She was drying dishes and frowning at the clock when the hard knock came again.
“Who is it?” she called as she walked to the door.
“It’s Caleb.”
Well, didn’t he sound like he was in a fine mood? Jena curled her lip. She’d been avoiding him since the awkward—okay, it was kind of hot—night by his trailer. She should have been mad at him, and the fact that she wasn’t mad bothered her more than his stolen kisses did.
She threw open the door. “Why are you pounding on my door?”
He looked ready to punch something. “I’m exhausted. And frustrated. And that damn air-conditioner is broken again, and all I want to do is take a nap without my face melting. Is that too much to ask?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Get off my porch if you’re going to talk to me that way, Caleb Gilbert. You’re out of line.”
He took three steps back, pulled at the back of his neck, then let out a frustrated “Argh!”
Jena nodded at the old shed she and her dad had been meaning to tear down. It was infested with spiders, and the boards were half rotted out. “See that shed?”
Caleb glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. “Yeah.”
“Go kick the shit out of it, then come back and talk to me like a human.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Gonna tear it down anyway.”
He strode over the shed and drove a fist straight through the siding. Jena blinked. He was even madder than she’d thought. Then he started kicking. Caleb punched and kicked the side of that shed until half of it was lying in a heap. Then he pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt and went at it again. Jena was going to look away in disgust at his blatant display of temper.