P. Alderman - A Killing Tide

Lucy shook her head. "Too much bruising, and in all the wrong places. Whoever administered the beating knew what he was doing. He inflicted the most damage where it wouldn't be seen—around Ken's kidneys, and on his back and ribs."

"And where it would also cause the most pain—the kind of beating that sends a message," Chapman's expression was thoughtful. "So we've got a carefully planned arson and a victim who was possibly in some kind of trouble with people who don't play nice. Did you talk to the wife?"

"Yeah, nada, but she's acting scared. We've subpoenaed Ken's bank records, and we're looking into any calls he made from his home or his cell phone. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"What about the bartender? Could he have overheard something?"

"We interviewed him this morning but didn't get much out of him. Steve makes a point of turning a deaf ear."

"A lot of unanswered questions," Ivar mused. "Too many illogical events to assume the easiest solution. Need to gather all the evidence in one place, then study it carefully."

"I agree," Chapman said.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "I tell you what—you two pick through the little bits of stuff in the collection bags and cans. I'll take a drive and see what I can find by the tavern. I need some fresh air."

But Chapman clearly wasn't through with her. "Kaz is obviously intelligent, and if Gary was a Ranger, he's also no slouch."

"What's your point?"

"That Jorgensen had motive—the argument in the tavern; means—access to the boat and the knowledge to start the fire; and opportunity—his truck was found at the wharf."

Lucy concluded she wasn't all that happy with Chapman's one-track mind. "When's the lab work coming back from the boat?"

"Some later today, the rest in a couple of days." He pulled a manila envelope out of his jacket and tossed it onto her desk. "Photos of the crowd from last night. I'd appreciate it if you'd take a look at them."

"Fine." She broke off as her phone rang. "Yeah." She listened a minute, and then said, "Yeah. Give me fifteen." She hung up and gave Chapman her coolest look. "Just so you know, Kaz had nothing to do with this."

"You may be right, but if her brother did, she'll go down with him."

"Meaning?"

"She's withholding information from me. Obstruction of justice."

Ivar nodded. "Sounds like her."

"Hey," Lucy objected.

Ivar shrugged. "She'd do anything for Gary, you know that."

"She wouldn't break the law unless she had a very good reason."

Ivar remained silent then, when Lucy glared, spread both hands.

"Just so I'm not working totally in the dark here," Chapman said, his tone taking on an edge, "do you two want to volunteer anything about your relationships with the primary suspects in this case?"

"We're just friends," Ivar quickly assured him.

"And that's all?"

"Look, we all want the same thing—to find the bad guy and bring him in," Lucy said. "Murders don't happen in our town, and Ken was a friend."

A look passed between the two men that Lucy couldn't decipher, and after a moment, Chapman nodded as if satisfied and stood up. "I've got a lot of work to do before dark," he said, and turned to go. "And I figure I've got maybe twenty-four hours before your friend is on my case about dry-docking her boat." He stopped, one corner of his mouth lifting. "Then again, I don't really have even that long, do I? Once you let Kaz borrow your car, she'll be mobile again."

Lucy flushed.

"Call your friend off, before she gets herself hurt," he suggested.

"She won't listen to me on this one." His brows arched, and she sighed. "Kaz feels responsible for Gary, feels an obligation to help him."

"The shipwreck fifteen years ago," he guessed.

She gave him a quizzical look, and he explained about the conversation he'd had with the mayor.

"Kaz believes she should've been able to save her parents that night. She's felt guilty ever since," she explained.

"Could she have?"

Lucy shook her head. "There were gale force winds that night, and storm surge well over thirty feet. Most of the waves were at least fifty feet, crest to trough. For you landlubbers, that's a five-story building. The miracle is that she survived. But the way she sees it, Gary's had a harder time of it, partially because of losing their parents."

"And you don't have any influence over her."

"On a lot of things, sure, but not this."

"Then let's arrest her as a material witness."

Lucy hooted. "That'd last about as long as one phone call to her lawyer ex-boyfriend in California. He'd have her out on bail within a couple of hours."

"Then see to it that you keep her out of my way, or I will have her arrested." He nodded at both of them and walked away.

"Well, well," Ivar said.

"What?" Lucy asked.

"Chapman and Kaz. Bad timing, though."

"What? " Lucy wondered if her partner had been ingesting too many herbs. "He didn't even sound like he liked her."

Ivar looked amused. "And your point is?"

"Oh, right, crazy me." She gnawed on the idea. "You've heard the stories, right? About how Chapman was placed on administrative leave after the fire that killed his fiancée? And that there was some question as to whether he could've saved the arsonist in the fire six months later?"

"Yup. You telling me you're upset about a serial arsonist who got himself dead?"

"Of course not."

"So?"

"So Kaz already has enough problems on her plate without Chapman adding to them."

"Especially if she's being her typical, driven, nosy self," Ivar said, his tone wry. "I noticed you didn't tell Chapman about the rumors Sykes has been hearing regarding the fishermen."

Lucy shrugged. "We don't know whether that's connected to the fire, or even if there's any truth to what the chief has been hearing. I didn't see any point in sending Chapman off in that direction."

"Get real. No one controls where that guy goes but him."

~~~~

Chapter 9

It was still early afternoon, but as Kaz walked home from the car dealership, the weak winter light was already showing signs of fading. It would take two days to order the window for the SUV and have it installed. With Gary's truck impounded by the cops, she hoped Lucy came through fast.

A patrol car was parked across the street from the bungalow, and she changed course, heading for it. Clint Jackson. So he probably had been following her.

"He's not here, Clint," she said when the cop lowered his window. "Go home."

"Now, Kaz, you know I can't do that. My orders are to keep the house under surveillance."

"Why? If Gary sees your car, he'll be gone before you even have a clue he's around."

"Maybe, maybe not." Jackson rested an arm on the edge of the window. "Your brother's not God—we'll get him sooner or later." He bared his teeth in a cold smile. "Collaring your brother could be a damn good move for my career –I'm in line to make detective this year."

Kaz smiled back just as pleasantly. "If memory serves, I used to baby-sit you, didn't I?"

"Go to hell, Kaz."

She walked back across the street. Okay, so not all the cops on the force were like Lucy and Ivar. Some were assholes. If Jackson caught up with Gary before Lucy and Ivar did….Her stomach knotted.

The phone was ringing as she entered the house through the kitchen door. She jogged into the living room to answer it, only to have whoever was on the other end hang up on her. Just what she didn't need right now—some oblivious idiot calling the wrong number, over and over. Her tolerance for idiocy was at an all-time low, starting with her own.

Being attracted to Michael Chapman was the ultimate in stupidity, and reckless, besides. She couldn't understand her apparent inability to function intelligently around him. All she had to do was take one look at that rugged physique and curly dark hair, and all her brains flowed out onto the floor and rolled around like just so many marbles.