Chapter Twenty-Eight
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I was telling the truth about how I feel. There really hasn’t been more than normal movement since our scare. And I definitely felt kicking near the top, which suggests the baby is moving into the correct position. Yet no sooner do we spot Haven’s Rock below than a cramp nearly doubles me over. Luckily, Dalton is too busy landing the plane to notice. I hold my breath as I stare at my watch, waiting for the next one.
The “next” one doesn’t come, thankfully. We’re landing when I feel another cramp, but it’s much lighter, and it feels more like regular intestinal distress. That is not unexpected, given the way my stomach is twisting with worry over why no one is answering those phones.
I want to land and see Anders standing there, having heard the plane and come to the hangar to meet us. He’ll be there, arms crossed, giving us shit for coming back, teasing that we couldn’t stay away.
What? The sat phones aren’t working? Huh. I never even noticed. Been too busy… running this investigation, which I can totally handle.
Marlon? I just passed him. He was heading for the café. Coffee break time. I’ve been keeping an eye on him.
Anders is not at the hangar. No one is, and my heart seizes at that, and I climb from the plane even as Dalton growls for me to wait and let him help me down.
Then I see Anders, coming at a lope, and I exhale.
“Hey,” I say. “Satellite must be down. We can’t get through.”
Anders gets close enough for me to see his grim expression and my gut twists, another cramp hitting. “Will?”
“My phone’s missing,” he says. “So is Marlon. I just—” He breaks off with an angry shake of his head. “I just realized about the phone. I went to bed late and gave mine to April. Yolanda has the other one, and April was pissed, worrying about you since you couldn’t make it to Whitehorse yesterday. She came barreling in this morning and woke me up, thinking I’d taken the phone back. It was missing from her…”
He trails off, gaze slipping to mine and then away. I know what his next words would be, because if April was worried I might need late-night medical attention, she would have left the phone beside her bed.
Marlon went into April’s room, while she slept, and took the phone. While she’d been lying there, with her eye mask on, alone and vulnerable.
“April’s fine,” he says quickly. “She doesn’t even seem fazed. But, of course, that’s April. I told her to grab the other phone from Yolanda. Then I went to check on Marlon. His apartment is empty, and I’m worried that’s not a coincidence—one of your suspects is gone along with the sat phone.”
“Taken it to try getting a ride out of here,” Dalton says as he joins us.
“How long’s he been missing?” I say as we start toward town, moving as fast as my waddling body can move.
“I’m not even sure he is missing. He’s just not in his apartment, and I was starting to search when I saw the plane. He was supposed to take a patrol shift starting at eight, but I asked him to switch to Grant’s job, which doesn’t start until ten.”
I check my watch. It feels as if it should be early afternoon, and it’s only 9:55. That’s what happens when your day begins before dawn.
“For all I know,” Anders continues, “he could have been grabbing breakfast before his shift starts, and someone else stole the phone. I was about to search for Marlon myself while getting Yolanda or Kendra to check on our other suspects, see if anyone is missing.”
“It’s Marlon,” I say grimly. “That’s why we came back. We were trying to call to tell you Marlon isn’t Marlon. That is to say, he’s not the guy we admitted as Marlon.”
Anders stops short before resuming his walk with, “What?”
I give him the quickest possible rundown as we near town. When I tell him what I found, about the murders I think could be Jerome’s work, his face goes ashen.
“Holy shit,” he whispers.
“Yep,” Dalton says.
“I… Part of me says I should be furious because he played me. Played me like a goddamn violin.” He swallows and rubs his mouth. “But all I can think about is those girls, those women, and I want to ask if there’s any chance you’re wrong but there’s not. He was exactly what we needed. Especially what we need—you, me, Eric.”
I nod. “A resident with military experience to fill the gap left by me being pregnant. And a gap in general. We’re all working our asses off to build and protect this town. To have a resident with the skills, the personality, and the willingness to help out? Gold.”
“Casey?” Dalton says, lowering his voice as we enter town. “I’d like you to take Storm and get that sat phone from Yolanda.”
“Got it,” I say. “I’ll tell her what’s happening, and I’ll get in touch with émilie while paying April a visit to check on her. You guys are looking for Marlon, I presume.”
“We are. Will? Can you round up Kenny, Phil, Kendra, Jacob… Find Gunnar, too. Put him in his perch. Get the others up to speed.”
“You want to lock down?” Anders asks. “Everyone inside?”
Dalton shakes his head. “If Marlon’s still in town, the last thing we want is him being tipped off by too much activity. Kenny, Kendra, and Jacob should be on patrol. Gunnar in his perch. Phil is working with Isabel on a plan for a lockdown, if that’s needed.”
“Eric?” I say as he starts veering left.
He glances back.
“If he’s not around, come see me before you leave town? Take Storm and backup?”
“I will.”
I head straight for Yolanda’s apartment. Anders hadn’t gotten a chance to check in on her. She’s not doing any regular job right now, having been semi-recruited to help Anders on the case and town security. He says she was on patrol yesterday afternoon, ending early evening when her Parkinson’s tremors started up. He hasn’t seen her since her patrol shift began—he’d spoken later to Kendra, who said Yolanda passed on a message that she’d be back on duty by late morning.
Yolanda has an apartment in the general residences. We’ve tried getting her to take a larger one in the family building, but she’s never as stubborn as when she’s determined to be treated like everyone else. Except, you know, when she doesn’t want to be treated like everyone else.
Her apartment is on the first floor. That’s one perk of having been here during construction. She might not want upgraded quarters, but she does have the most conveniently located apartment—main level, near the doors and close to the washrooms and common areas, but not right beside them, where noise could be an issue.
Her door is locked. I knock. No answer. I knock again.
“Looking for Yolanda?” a voice says.
I glance over. It’s one of our newest residents, Ingrid, a young woman with an easy smile.
“I am,” I say.
“I saw her getting coffee with Marlon this morning.” She waggles her brows, still smiling. “Maybe he’s finally getting his shot, huh?”
My gut goes cold.
“Detective Butler?” she says. “Are you okay?” Her gaze drops to my stomach. “Wait. You’re supposed to be gone, aren’t you? Having the baby?”
“Something came up,” I say, smoothing out my expression. “I need to speak to Yolanda and Marlon. Town business. So if they were together, that’s perfect. You said they were grabbing coffee? When was this?”
She checks her watch. “It’s been a while. Maybe just after eight? They were in the café line ahead of me. I guess they’d be back to work by now.”
I thank her and start to hurry off as another cramp hits. Definitely stress, and for very good reason now. I tamp down the pain and pick up my pace as I beeline for the café.
On the way to the café, I spot Anders and wave him over. I quickly tell him what Ingrid said, and his expression drops the way my stomach did.
“Yolanda,” he whispers. “Oh no.”
“It might be nothing,” I say. “If Jerome did bolt, he could have been making a show of being seen. The coffee line is the best place to do it, and if Yolanda’s there, even better. Everyone including her will confirm he was in that line, chatting and acting normal.”
Except that we can’t get hold of Yolanda. She has the other sat phone, and it’s ringing through to voicemail.
Maybe because she left it in her apartment. She’s obviously been up and around for hours, despite not working until later. She goes out, forgets she has custody of that phone, and it’s ringing away in her apartment.
I test that with the sat phone we brought back with it. I don’t hear anything.
We reach the café. Inside, our bakers Brian and Devon are hard at work. We pull them both aside into the back room and ask about Yolanda and Marlon.
Devon grins, not unlike the way Ingrid did. “Yep, they were here, and they were together. Chatting away and everything. I think that fire might finally be sparking.”
Anders shakes his head. “She’s not interested in Marlon.”
Devon’s brows rise. “And you know that how? Because you’ve been keeping tabs?”
Is it my imagination, or does Anders flush a little? He definitely glances away as he shrugs. “We talk. She knows he’s interested, and she’s not, and I’ve been subtly trying to tell him that without him jumping to the wrong conclusion.”
“That you’re interested in Yolanda,” Devon says. “Which would be totally the wrong conclusion, right?”
Brian elbows his husband. “Stop matchmaking. Will’s right. Yolanda’s not interested in Marlon. She must have really wanted that coffee today. Otherwise, she’d have cut out of line again, like she usually does when Marlon shows up.”
I frown. “What’s this?”
Brian takes a batch of muffins from the oven. “It’s only been a couple of times, but it’s pretty obvious. Marlon comes strolling along when Yolanda’s at the back of the line, and she suddenly forgot something and has to leave.”
“Ouch,” Devon says. “Poor guy.”
Brian shakes his head. “If she’s not interested and he isn’t taking the hint, that’s on him. But today they actually joined the line together. They were deep in conversation. It seemed serious—not the usual early-morning-crowd small talk.”
“Any idea what they were talking about?” I ask.
The two men look at each other. Then Devon says, “Brian was in the back when they got to the counter. I heard something about a noise in the night? Marlon seemed concerned? I didn’t really catch it. They were keeping their voices down.”
“Did they grab a seat?” I motion at the dining area.
“Nah. They got their coffee to go. Oh, I did hear something else. Yolanda said she might start her patrol early. On account of what Marlon heard, I think? He said he didn’t start work until later, so if it was okay, he’d join her, since no one should be out there alone.”
“See?” Brian says. “That’s why they were together and talking. Business.”
We take our leave. Once we’re out the back door, on the empty patio, I murmur, “That makes sense. She would talk to him about business.”
Anders doesn’t answer. That gives me pause, but then another damned stomach cramp hits, and I wait it out before continuing, “Business being town security. He says he heard something and…”
And then it hits hard enough for my breath to catch, and I realize why Anders is so quiet, why he’s staring out at the forest, breathing hard, a stricken look on his face. I’d been completely focused on why Yolanda and Marlon were together, and the “security” answer came as a relief, when it should have had the absolute opposite effect.
Marlon says he heard something last night, out in the forest.
Yolanda says she’ll start her patrol early and take a look.
He offers to come with her, and she won’t argue because he’s right—no one should be out there alone with a killer on the loose.
Except the killer is the guy saying he “heard something.” And he just found a way to get Yolanda—the woman who’s been blocking his interest for months—into the forest with him.
“Eric,” I say, my voice coming out strangled. “We need to get Eric.”
I go hunt for Dalton while Anders uses the two-way radios to call whoever’s on patrol. Yolanda said she was going to start early, but she’d be overlapping with others, rather than taking over. There’s a decent chance whoever else is patrolling saw them.
I find Dalton talking to Phil and Isabel at their place, and I make them pull on their boots and follow as I talk. We soon hear Anders ahead, and we pick up speed and find him talking to Kendra and Jacob, who just got back from patrol.
“We never saw them,” Kendra says as we approach, as if knowing this will be our first question. “We were just say ing that we need to lock down. I was going to go talk to Phil but…”
“Yes,” Phil says. “We’re in lockdown. Kendra? Jacob? I’ll get your help with that—”
“We need Jacob,” Dalton says. “He’s a better tracker than me. You get Kendra and Casey.”
I shake my head. “Storm works best with me. And if we need to split up, there should be four of us, so we can stay in twos.”
Dalton hesitates.
“He won’t have gone far,” I say. “He’s not getting Yolanda miles from town, whether he’s luring her or carrying her.”
“All right then. Let’s take one of those radios and head out.”