Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
LUKE
The boathouse smells of stale lake water and something metallic that makes my jaw tighten.
I’ve been in enough locker rooms after fights to know the smell of blood when it hits my nose.
I bet I missed it last night between finally getting Madeline alone and finding a dead body.
It didn’t help that I had a good buzz going.
No more drinking for me while Madeline might be at risk. I need to stay sharp.
I don’t let go of Madeline’s hand. She’s trembling, barely noticeably, but I feel it in her fingers.
She’s scared. She’s also furious; I saw it in her eyes when Lana mentioned the bet, the way she went rigid against me like she wanted to bolt or fight or both.
I wasn’t going to play Lana’s games, not with Madeline standing there.
I wanted her ass gone as quickly as possible.
Putting that bitch in her place is something that I can do tomorrow.
The same way I’m going to revisit the kiss that I shared with Madeline and how it threw me off-kilter.
“Stay behind me,” I say and step partly in front of Madeline so that I can still keep a hold of her hand but shield her as well. I don’t need her seeing more fucked-up shit. Though I know she won’t do as she’s told. She doesn’t answer, just squeezes my hand hard.
I find the switch on the wall by memory, my fingers tracing splintered wood until they hit the cold metal.
The light that flickers on is worse than darkness.
A single bulb hangs from a frayed cord in the center of the ceiling, swaying slightly from some draft I can’t feel.
It casts everything in jaundiced yellow, shadows pooling in corners, making it all that much more ominous.
The concrete floor is stained dark in a pattern that makes my stomach clench. Not just blood. Someone tried to clean it or move something through it, smearing arcs and streaks that glisten in the dim light.
“I would have noticed that last night and the body wasn’t even there,” Madeline whispers.
Yeah, we might have been drunk, but that is a large area.
“You think it’s blood too, right?” I’m not sure I want to tell her what I think it is.
“Luke?” She peers up at me through her lashes, and I can’t not tell her.
Not when she is looking to me for answers and I can give her one. It might win me points too.
“I think it’s blood that someone spilled,” I tell her. They spilled it as they cut the body up is my guess, but I don’t say those words out loud yet.
“But the body was gone.”
“Was it?” Her brows pull together, and the confusion on her face is adorable, but I won’t be telling her that, not at this moment.
“What if they saw us run from here and quickly stashed it, which, fuck, makes sense.” I run my hand down my face.
That means they know that we know. Not fucking good.
That puts Madeline in much more danger than I anticipated.
I should have thought about that last night. A person wouldn’t have time to move a body that quickly without being noticed unless they had help, but still. That’s tricky.
“You think they stashed it in here.”
“Yes, and then I think it was dismembered.” A small gasp leaves her, and I pull out the small flashlight I’d snagged before we left that house so that I can get a better look at the walls.
“Is that what I think it is?” It’s barely noticeable on the wood paneling, but there is blood on the walls. A small smear tells me they tried to clean it up but missed a few spots.
“Yeah.”
“She really is dead,” Madeline whispers.
I let her hand go to wrap an arm around her and tuck her into me.
She lets me bury her face in my chest. That hard exterior she presents to the world is slipping, and fuck, does it feel good that she’s allowing me to see this side of her.
I know she keeps that shit locked up tight. In that I understand Madeline.
I kiss the top of her head and feel her take a few deep breaths, trying to compose herself.
She clears her throat before tipping her head to stare up at me, but she doesn’t step back.
Madeline’s body is still pressed flush to mine.
She hadn’t pushed away when I kissed the fuck out of her, either.
In fact, her fingers gripped tighter on to me as she kissed me right back.
“We should try to see where they hid her,” Madeline says, her voice steadier now. “There could be a clue.”
“All right.” I force myself to step back, to focus. “But you stay slightly behind me. No arguments.”
“No arguments,” Madeline agrees. “I’ll have time to get away while they kill you.”
“Exactly.”
“Luke.” She squeezes my hand. “I was joking.”
“Well, I wasn’t.”
I keep her close as we move toward the back of the boathouse, my flashlight cutting through the dim yellow glow.
The concrete floor shows faint drag marks, lighter than you’d expect from moving a whole body.
Like something being carried in pieces, confirming more of what I thought: They cut Coach Murphy up.
“See that?” I point the light at a dark smudge near the wall. “The person didn’t drag her out. I think that whoever it was, carried her out in parts.”
Madeline’s breath catches. “How do you know it’s one person?”
“Two people would have carried the whole body out together. Faster, easier.” It’s not easy to chop up a body. I’m assuming it takes an incredible amount of strength to cut through bone.
I move the light along the trail. “One person had to cut her up to move her. Which means they’re strong. And they knew they’d have time after we ran. The whole night.”
“Why would someone do this to Murphy? I mean, I know she cheated to help Lana win captain, but that’s silly bullshit.
It’s nothing to kill over.” People kill for stupid-ass shit every day.
What’s jarring to people is the fact that it isn’t supposed to happen in these places, but the reality is that it’s everywhere.
Wealthy people can be some of the cruelest and most fucked-up of them all, and they have the money to hide their indiscretions and crimes.
“I’m not sure, but someone clearly wanted her dead.
” We’ll have to dig into that more later.
We need to search the boathouse and then get the hell out of here.
“We should try to see where the blood trail leads,” I say, forcing my voice to be steady.
“If they dismembered her here, they had to move the pieces somewhere. Maybe there’s a clue. ”
Madeline nods against my chest, then pulls back just enough to look up at me. She doesn’t step away. “Okay. But you stay close.”
I almost smile. She’s giving me orders now. If she thinks I wasn’t keeping her close, she has done lost her mind.
I sweep the flashlight along the floor, following the faint smears. The cleanup is sloppy, but I’m guessing if the average person stepped into the boathouse, the first thought wouldn’t be that it’s blood splatter. The spots are lighter and intermittent.
That’s when I notice a storage cabinet locked with a heavy padlock. I crouch down, shining the light along the bottom edge.
Scratches on the concrete. Fresh ones. And a single dark blond hair caught on the metal corner.
“What’s stored in there?” Madeline asks, kneeling beside me.
“I’d guess equipment. Life jackets. Ropes.” I study the scratches. “And probably where she was stashed while they figured out what to do with us showing up.”
“Can you open it?”
“I can try.” I stand, shining my light across the wall and onto the shelves.
I stick the flashlight in my mouth while I slide the gloves, I brought with me on.
Then I proceed to grab the toolbox I spot on one of shelves.
I hand my light to Madeline to hold. I open the box and find a couple of wrenches.
I place the open ends of both wrenches inside the U-shaped loop so they face each other like a pair of jaws. I grip the far ends of the wrenches and squeeze them together like giant nutcrackers. The old lock makes a sharp but quiet crack, breaking the casing.
I open it. There are only a couple of life jackets inside. I take the light back from Madeline. There are a few dried dark red drops that I know are blood.
Then I spot a glint of metal on one of them. I use the flashlight to illuminate the life jacket and see it’s a keycard.
Kingmakers’ staff access. And printed on the front: COACH MURPHY - ICE CREW.
“Fuck,” I breathe out. If we weren’t sure it was Coach Murphy before, we are now.
Madeline reads over my shoulder. “Why would her own keycard be out here?”
“Because she didn’t leave on her own. Someone took her.” I stand and pocket the card. “And we need to find out who before they realize how much we know.”
A floorboard creaks behind us.
Madeline screams, a sharp sound that tears through the silence. I spin, clamping my hand over her mouth before the echo dies, pulling her tight against my chest.
“Shh,” I breathe against her ear, my heart hammering. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“Jesus Christ.” Georgia’s voice comes from the doorway, shaky. “You scared the hell out of us.”
Grant steps in behind her, phone flashlight sweeping across the space. “We saw the light.”
I lower my hand from Madeline’s mouth slowly. She’s trembling, but her eyes are already hardening, that armor sliding back into place.
“You were supposed to wait in the car,” I say, not letting go of Madeline. I’m pissed that they scared her, far more than I should be. My protectiveness of her is growing, and there is no stopping it. It’s almost becoming obsessive.
“And you were supposed to tell us what you found,” Georgia fires back. “But since neither of you did, I got worried about you and...” She trails off, her gaze landing on the bloodstains. “Oh God. Is that—”
“Yeah,” Madeline says, her voice steady now. “Someone for sure killed Coach Murphy. And we think they cut her up right here.”
“We need to move,” I say. Taking my gloves off quickly before I pull Madeline toward the door. “Now.”
“What’s the rush?” Grant asks, though he’s already stepping back.
“Lana was here,” Madeline says, her voice tight. “Right before we came inside. She saw us.”
Georgia’s eyes widen. “Lana? What was she doing here?”
“Being a bitch,” Madeline mutters. “But she knows we were here. And if she tells someone—”
“She won’t,” I cut in. “That would implicate her too if she’s even involved.
We don’t know why she was here for certain, but we don’t need more people seeing us.
” There is also the fact that Caleb and Lana have been hooking up off and on for a few years at this point.
If I recall correctly, she’s hosted a few parties here too.
We file out the door, sticking to the shadows along the tree line. The lake is dark, the moon hidden behind clouds. Perfect night for hiding bodies. Perfect night for getting caught doing shit you shouldn’t.
“Where are we going?” Grant asks, keeping his voice low.
“To our vehicles,” I say. “Then we figure out what to do with what we know.”
“Which is what exactly?” Georgia presses. “That Coach Murphy is dead? That someone cut her up? That Lana was lurking around a crime scene?”
“All of it,” Madeline says. “And that we’re in way over our heads.”
I squeeze her hand to reassure her that everything is going to be fine. That expression of panic and the fear in her voice cut deep, pissing me off.
We reach the cars without seeing anyone else. I unlock the SUV and help Madeline in, then turn to Grant and Georgia. “Follow us back to my brother’s place. We need to talk somewhere safe.”
Grant nods, already heading for his truck. Georgia lingers, looking at me with something like suspicion. “You knew something about this. Before tonight. Didn’t you?”
I don’t answer. My mind is working on different possibilities, but I’m not sure yet. I just get in the car and start the engine.
Madeline is staring out the window, her reflection ghostly in the glass. “I don’t want more people to die. This feels like only the beginning,” she says quietly.
I pull onto the road, headlights cutting through the dark. “Then we need to find them first.” She turns her head back in my direction.
“And you want to help with that?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. I don’t want her to think I’m reluctant. If she knows I’m all in, she’ll keep me informed. I’m now on her team.
Though I’m still on team this isn’t our fucking problem, but if it’s a problem for Madeline, then I’m finding it’s a problem for me too.