Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Tate crossed the lobby, his heart in his throat.
There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to come on too strong.
Annie was harboring doubts about him, ones he’d planted years ago with his betrayal.
But being around her…talking…joking and teasing one another…
he’d forgotten how easy it was between them.
As a teen, he hadn’t appreciate it. As an adult, Tate knew how rare that kind of connection was.
He’d told himself that the smart move was to guard his heart. Too late.
He wanted a second chance with her.
Whether he got one…well, that was up to Annie. And he knew she wasn’t ready to discuss it. So Tate swallowed the words he wanted to say, and prayed the right time would present itself.
In the meantime, he needed to focus on finding the killer. Or killers.
Annie caught up with him, and together they entered the dining room.
It smelled of tomato sauce and basil. Tables along the wall were lined with toppings.
People mingled and chatted as they fixed their pizzas.
Country music played from a speaker in the corner.
Tate’s stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten in…
he couldn’t remember when. But his hunger faded when he realized Caleb wasn’t in the dining room.
“He didn’t want to participate.” Brooke used the back of her hand to push away an errant curl from her forehead, leaving a dusting of flour on her ochre skin. “Try the game room. He was heading that way last time I saw him.”
Tate did a quick headcount. Three people, including Caleb, were missing. Keeping track of everyone was going to be nearly impossible. “Where is everyone else?”
“Lionel is manning the oven in the kitchen. Heather had a migraine and went to lie down.” Brooke frowned. “I’m pretty worried about her, actually. She’s taking Kayla’s death really hard.”
“You’re surprised by that?” Tate asked.
“Honestly, yeah. Kayla and Heather had a falling out a few weeks before graduation, and it’s my understanding they only recently reconnected.” Brooke winced. “I mean…we’re all upset about Kayla’s death. I don’t want to make it sound like we aren’t, but Heather is taking it especially hard.”
“I’m sure the stress of this situation isn’t helping.” Annie picked up a napkin from a nearby table and swiped at the flour on Brooke’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ll check on Heather after we talk to Caleb.”
They said goodbye and went back across the lobby to the rear hallway.
A television blared, and it didn’t take long to locate Caleb in the game room.
He was leaning against the wall, typing on his phone, a faint crease between his brows.
When he noticed their arrival, he quickly tucked the device into his back pocket. “Hey, guys.”
Annie grabbed the remote from the arm of a worn-out leather couch and muted the television. “You didn’t want pizza?”
“Not hungry.”
“Oh, okay.” She cast him a sympathetic look. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”
“You can say that again.” Caleb ambled over to the pool table and racked the balls.
Keeping busy, Tate noted. Because he was nervous?
Maybe. His hands were awfully steady, if he was.
Not a tremor in his fingers. Caleb moved with efficiency, as if he’d played pool thousands of times.
Shaggy brown hair fell over his forehead as he stacked the solids and stripes.
He was dressed in worn jeans and a plain long-sleeved shirt.
Beaten-in work boots. He looked every inch the blue-collar townie he was.
“Listen, I told Tate about the text you received from me.” Annie leaned against the couch. “The one that asked you to go to the stables so we could talk. Would you mind showing it to us again?”
“I deleted it.” Caleb settled the rack into place and lifted it away. He didn’t look at either of them. “Sorry. I thought someone hacked my phone. Deleted the text and ran anti-malware, just in case. Should I not have?”
It was a reasonable answer, but the practiced way Caleb offered it up felt off. Annie shot a quick glance at Tate, and he saw his doubts reflected in her eyes.
Tate ran through everything he knew about Caleb.
Only child of a single mom. Worked as an electrician.
Never married. No kids. Wickedly smart, enough to have gotten a full-ride scholarship to a prestigious university before it was yanked away for cheating.
And as Caleb broke and several balls landed in the pockets, Tate added one more trait—pool shark.
But then, Caleb was exceptional at games. Foosball, darts, computers. Spoofing a phone took technical skill, but Caleb was intelligent enough to figure it out.
Tate would give anything to get a peek at Caleb’s phone, but doubted the other man would allow it. Instead, he walked over to the wall and selected a cue from the stand. “Mind if I play?”
“Not at all.” Caleb glanced at Annie. “Wanna join us? We don’t have to keep score. Friendly game.”
She smiled, crinkles forming at the corners of her eyes. “The last time I played, the cue ball went across the room and nearly broke a window. I’ll pass, thanks.”
Caleb chuckled. The look he gave Annie was full of affection. “Sports were never your thing. Remember that time you tripped in dodgeball and knocked your front tooth out?”
Jealously flared, and Tate missed the cue ball completely, nearly whacking himself with the stick in the process. Neither Caleb nor Annie paid him any mind. He could’ve been a piece of furniture.
She grimaced. “Don’t remind me. I bled everywhere and Preston called me jack-o’-lantern for weeks afterward.”
At the mention of Preston, Caleb’s mouth twisted. “I never liked the way he treated you. He was always such a jerk to everyone, but especially to the girls in our group. He always acted like y’all didn’t have two brain cells to rub together.”
Tate took that as an opening. “Makes you wonder what Kayla saw in him.”
“I never understood that myself.” Caleb sank another ball into the corner pocket and stood. “I know we’re getting these weird texts from Seth, but I still think it’s possible Preston killed Kayla. He’s been violent with her before. Slapping her around, pushing her.”
This was news to Tate, and by the way Annie’s eyes widened, she hadn’t known about the abuse either.
Was Caleb trying to pin the blame on Preston to muddy the waters of their investigation?
Or did he genuinely believe Preston had killed Kayla?
It was hard to know. “Did you see them go to the cabin together that night?”
“Yeah.” He struck the cue ball with more force than necessary, and it bounced off the side of the table.
“I knew where things were headed at the s’mores event.
Kayla was hanging all over Preston, laughing at his stupid jokes.
I warned her that he had a fiancée, but she didn’t believe me.
” His expression darkened. “But I’m sure they fought about it at the cabin.
Kayla might’ve had a blind spot when it came to Preston, but she wasn’t an idiot. She knew he was disloyal.”
“Did you actually hear them fighting?” Annie asked from her perch on the arm of the couch.
“Naw. After they went to the cabin, I went to bed. The next thing I knew, it was morning and y’all were in the clearing…
” Sadness moved across his face, and then the anger returned.
“Even if Preston didn’t kill her, he left her to find her way back to the main lodge in the dark.
As far as I’m concerned, he’s responsible for what happened. ”
“What about the texts we’re getting from Seth?” Tate asked.
“You’re the Ranger, you tell me.” Caleb watched as Tate sank a ball into the middle pocket. “Nice shot.”
“I was actually hoping you had some insight. You were good friends with Seth. Can you think of anyone who might want to avenge his death?”
“No.”
“What about his dad? Or his brother?”
“As far as I know, his dad is still in prison.” He studied the table. “And his brother…well, I haven’t seen him in years, but Marcus is an upfront guy. Direct. I could see him going after Preston for what happened, but killing Kayla…” He shook his head. “No way.”
“Why not?” Tate challenged. “Kayla was leading Seth on, dating him just to make Preston jealous. She’d told Preston about Seth’s dad being in prison. She’s as much to blame for what happened that night as he is.”
Caleb glared at him. “You can’t seriously believe that.”
Tate met his heated stare with one of his own. “Why not? Someone does. And whoever it is killed Kayla. So, you tell me, if it’s not Seth’s dad, and it’s not his brother, then who in this group would be angry enough about what happened to murder in cold blood? Who’s sending these text messages?”
His nostrils flared. “I don’t know.”
“Really? Because I saw you, Caleb. Earlier tonight.” He stepped closer. “You were enjoying Preston’s freak-out.”
Out in the clearing, Caleb had let his anger fly. Here he kept it on a leash. “Am I a suspect?”
“Should you be?”
“No.”
Annie moved to Caleb’s side. “You’re out of line, Tate.” Her tone was sharp as if she were furious with him. “Caleb would never hurt Kayla. He cared about her. Enough to warn her about Preston.”
Tate didn’t back off, and while he addressed Annie, his eyes never left Caleb. “Oh please. He knew Kayla would choose Preston. She always chose Preston, no matter how badly he treated her, and she did whatever he wanted her to. Including convincing Caleb here to let Preston cheat on an exam.”
Annie gasped, as if he’d shocked her. She placed a hand on Caleb’s arm in solidarity. His face turned red, and it was likely Annie’s show of support was the only thing keeping him in place.
Now Tate bore down on Caleb. “How did she do it, Caleb? You had a full-ride scholarship to college. You knew the risks. How on earth did Kayla convince you to let Preston cheat?”
“That’s ancient history and has nothing to do with this.”