Chapter 35
LEVI
After always being with someone over the last few days, the quiet in the clinic feels off. Northfork Veterinary Clinic has been the place where I spend most of my time for years.
Now the stainless-steel tables, antiseptic smell, and fluorescent lights almost feel unfamiliar.
Blake is in the clinic, but she’s passed out on the couch in the kitchen down the hall. Bear naps with her, curled up on Blake’s legs.
Yesterday would be too much for anyone to handle. She fell asleep in Walker’s arms last night, but she tossed and turned most of the night.
This morning, Walker announced that he needed to go to the station. Neither Santiago nor I wanted to leave Blake, so we did a quick round of Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who would go with Walker.
Santiago lost.
Which means I got to lie in bed with Blake in my arms for another hour.
It was difficult to make the decision to wake her up. I could’ve stayed in bed with her all day, but work won’t get done itself.
In a stupor, Blake ate breakfast and got dressed. I practically had to carry her to the car, then into the clinic.
Dr. Marcus Adler asked me to preserve any evidence and store the body here because he doesn’t know when he’ll be able to perform the autopsy.
As always, I obliged.
Abbott continues seeing patients in the other room.
He got to the clinic shortly after Blake and me.
I sat in on his first appointment, and the poor guy was so nervous that he wrapped gauze around his own finger rather than the calico’s paw.
When I pointed it out, his face turned a bright shade of scarlet that I’d never seen before on a person. Other than that, he did great.
Deciding to give the guy a break, I left him to finish up the appointment on his own. I assume it’s all gone smoothly since then because he hasn’t come to me with any questions.
Santiago and Walker should be here any minute, so I wash my hands at the surgical sink as I wait for them to arrive.
I finish gloving up when Santiago and Walker stroll into the exam room. Santiago places a chaste peck on my lips, ending the kiss too quickly.
I think we both could use a distraction and blow off some steam with each other.
Another time.
“Ready?” Walker questions as he hops up onto the counter, taking a seat.
“Ready,” I emphasize my answer by giving my blue nitrile gloves a good snap.
Santiago finds a plain, uncomfortable chair in another room and drags it in, plopping down in the seat.
I retrieve Manny’s body from cold storage and get him situated on the surgical table. After I get my prep tray together, I fall into a mindless routine. I’ve done this so many times before that I don’t have to think about it too hard.
Once I’ve removed his clothes and sealed them in evidence bags, my eyes stop on Manny’s forearm.
“Is that…” I trail off as I bend to get a closer look. A memory struggles to rise to the surface.
“Don’t contaminate the body,” Walker warns as he jumps to his feet.
“It’s my clinic.”
I get Walker’s apprehension. We’re all feeling it, but it’s different for him. Santiago and I have stakes in this, but even if Blake wasn’t a factor and Walker failed to produce results, the town would lose trust in him.
“It’s my investigation,” Walker argues back, marching forward.
“I just need to see his damn arm.”
“You two need to calm down,” Santiago says from his seat by the door.
Ignoring Walker’s hovering, I finally examine the skin on Manny’s forearm, and the detail strikes me in the face.
Blinking slowly, I right myself.
“Happy?” Walker sasses as he crosses his arms.
“It’s him,” I declare breathlessly.
Santiago joins us around the table, responding to me as if I’ve lost my mind. “Yes, this is Manny. We hate him.”
“No, it’s him.” I repeat.
Walker’s mouth pinches. “Are you okay?”
“Manny is the one who was at the clinic,” I try to explain.
Santiago arches a single brow. His response comes out slowly, like he thinks I’m stupid or losing my mind. “I’m sure you’ve had a lot of people in and out of the clinic.”
“Smartass,” I snap. Finding the right words, I attempt to clarify again. “He’s the one who broke into the clinic when Blake was picking up Bear.”
The muscles in Walker’s jaw tense. “Are you sure?”
I nod, convinced, and point to the inked barbed wire on Manny’s arm. “Yes. This is the same tattoo I saw on the attacker.”
Santiago lets out a low whistle. “So we really hate him.”
“Understatement of the year,” Walker grumbles.
Walker drags a hand down his face. “He attacks you and Blake at the clinic.”
Santiago clenches his fists. “He shows up at Falling Sky and locks Blake in the barn.”
“And he sets fire to the barn,” I add.
“But what doesn’t make sense is,” Walker starts pacing back and forth, “he was reckless. He talked with Blake. She saw his face. Calculated criminals don’t usually make that mistake.”
Santiago works his jaw back and forth. “Manny wasn’t patient. One time, a gate jammed, and he kicked it until it opened. Another time, Willow wouldn’t obey him, so he tried forcing her.”
I let out a single sardonic laugh. “He tried forcing an animal more than five times his weight to do what he wanted? What an idiot.”
Walker’s pacing pauses. “He was impulsive.” Walker looks between Santiago and me.
My head slants to a curious angle. “Do you think he was the Debt Collector?”
Walker shakes his head. “There’s no way. The Debt Collector is the complete opposite of Manny—calculating, manipulative, intelligent. He leaves messages, he stages the bodies, he cleans his mess. Manny poured gasoline on a barn in broad daylight.”
I nod my head.
“The Debt Collector is sophisticated. Manny is too young, too impulsive,” Santiago concurs.
“Exactly.” Walker snaps his fingers. “Then why was he trying to kill Blake?”
I review the facts in my head.
Manny hits on Blake. Blake rejects him, but Manny won’t take no for an answer. Manny runs his mouth and gets fired, which means no job.
No job, no income.
“I don’t think it was about Blake,” I speak up. “I think this is good old revenge.”
Walker purses his lips, contemplating. “Let’s assume it’s about Blake. Convince me I’m wrong.”
I take them through my thought process, laying it out perfectly.
“I think killing Blake was to get back at Santiago, the man who fired him. Blake was just the means by which he could exact his revenge.”
But there’s one problem…
“Then who killed Manny?” I follow up.
“Who murdered the attempted murderer?” Santiago rephrases sarcastically. “Now that’s the real brain teaser.”
“If we figure out why, that should point us toward the who.” Walker rubs his chin.
Santiago and I start spouting off theories.
“Someone could have followed Blake from New York.”
“Someone protecting Blake.”
“Blake’s stalker.”
“Someone who had a personal grudge against Manny.”
Walker straightens his spine. “That’s it.”
Santiago scratches the side of his head. “A personal grudge?”
“No.” Walker chews on his lip. “The stalker.”
“Why?” My face scrunches up.
“The stalker needs Blake around. He wants her to see something. He’s tormenting her. He wouldn’t lock her in the barn and set it on fire without telling her who he is and why he’s doing it.”
“What did Manny say to Blake again? She told you, right?”
“He told her that she ruined everything.” Santiago looks as if he just ate a lemon.
I know he probably blames himself for this. He fired Manny, and then Manny went after the people he cares about.
Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, I pull him closer, offering comfort.
He knows what I’m going to say.
And I know what he’s going to say.
So nothing needs to be said at all.
“That rules out Manny even more. The stalker wanted Blake to come back to Evergreen Falls,” I point out.
Santiago’s eyes narrow as he tries to decipher the same puzzle we’re all struggling with. “Are we sure that the stalker and The Debt Collector aren’t the same person?”
“I haven’t wanted to jump to conclusions, but I’ve been trying to investigate through two lenses. They’re two different people, or they’re one and the same.” Walker rubs his eyes.
I don’t think he slept at all last night.
My forehead wrinkles. “Walk, that’s a lot for one person.”
Santiago’s mouth pinches. “And you’re leaving out another lens.”
“What’s that?”
“The Debt Collector and Blake’s stalker are two different people who are working together.” Santiago brings his hands together in demonstration.
“How about we each take a theory?” I suggest. “Walk, you take different people. Santi, you take different people working together. I’ll take the same person.”
“Alright. Let’s do it.” Walker heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I need to take five.” Walker pushes away from the table and heads for the back exit, pulling out his pack of cigarettes as he goes.
Santiago and I exchange a look.
The same look we’ve exchanged several times over the last week.
Now?
Now.
I guess this is happening.
And without jackets.
How fun.
We follow Walker and join him outside while he smokes, standing side by side. We find him leaning against the building, a cigarette in his mouth, his lighter held to the tobacco end.
I clear my throat. “Walk.”
“Yeah?” he answers, taking an inhale from the filtered tip.
“We need to run something by you,” I return.
“That sounds ominous.”
“We know you have feelings for Blake,” Santiago states.
He doesn’t answer.
He doesn’t have to.
A minor twitch in his jaw is the only indication he heard us, but it’s enough.
“No use in denying it.” Santiago widens his stance.
Walker lets out a dark chuckle. “What’s your point?”
“We do too,” I explain, gesturing to Santiago and myself.
“I know.”
“So,” My hand moves to the back of my neck and squeezes. “What if we came to a certain type of agreement?”
“Are you suggesting we become…” Walker’s brows pinch. “What? Brother husbands?”
Santiago shrugs a shoulder. “We could call it that.”
Walker studies the two of us for a moment. “You’re serious.”
Neither Santiago nor I answer.
We don’t need to.
“I know you two have done the sharing thing,” he vaguely motions between the three of us, “but I haven’t.”
Santiago holds up a hand as if to pause Walker’s spiral. “We’re not asking you to decide today.”
Walker drops the cigarette butt into the snow, grinding it into the earth. “Then what are you asking?”
Santiago answers honestly. “If Blake wanted all three of us, would you consider it?”
Crossing his arms, Walker blows out a humorless laugh. “That’s not how it’ll go.”
My eyes narrow. “What makes you so sure?”
Walker scratches at his forehead, moistening his lips.
I’ve never seen Walker so unsure of himself. He’s not cocky, but he has an air of authority about him that exudes certainty.
Walker looks away. “She doesn’t know.”
Oh.
He means…
The secret—the one thing we’ve kept from her.
“Then we’ll tell her,” I reply, taking a confident step forward.
Walker looks back at us.
Really looks.
“If we tell her everything, and she still chooses us…” Santiago steps up to my side. “Would you be willing to try?”
“I don’t know.”
I know Walker well enough to recognize when he’s lying.
But this time he wasn’t lying to us.
He was lying to himself.