Abandon

Thirty-One

Mackenzie walked into Gus Winter’s store, as she had on countless other bright, clear summer mornings. If she’d simply stayed in Cold Ridge and hadn’t decided to become a federal agent, would Harris Mayer now be alive? Had her decision to put in her application to become a deputy marshal somehow set events into motion that had culminated in his murder?

She didn’t blame herself, but she wondered about her role in the events of the past couple of weeks. She was a passive, unwitting participant, which she hated. She and Rook had met because of Harris and his manipulations, because of her friendship with Bernadette. In all likelihood, the attack on her and the hiker and the hydrangea and the assault knife – the anonymous calls – all tracked back to Harris and to his friendship with Bernadette.

A teenager Mackenzie knew from town – an avid mountain climber – was folding hiking shirts on the worn counter. “Is Gus here?” she asked.

“He’ll be in soon. Five, ten minutes, maybe.” The teen, blond and tanned, grinned suddenly, as if just recognizing her. “Hey, Ms. Stewart. I mean, Agent Stewart.”

“Just Mackenzie is fine.”

“I heard about that fight up at the lake. Man. That was close. Hope the police catch the guy.”

“Me, too.”

“Mackenzie!” Carine Winter North waved from near the back wall of the store. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

Mackenzie smiled at the sight of her friend. “I just got here.” She threaded her way through the racks of clothing and gear to Gus’s display of maps and hiking guides. “I only decided this morning at the last minute to come up.”

A week after her own close call, Carine seemed back to normal, little Harry snuggled onto one hip. “I’m looking for a map of Mount Desert Island. Tyler’s on his way home, and we’re thinking about getting out of here for a few days.” She smiled, color rising in her fair cheeks. “I think Maine might be nice. I haven’t been to the ocean yet this summer.”

“Did you tell him about last weekend?”

“No, but I should have. He read about it on the Internet. Can you believe it? Never occurred to me. My name wasn’t mentioned, but yours was. So he knew damn well I was in the middle of it all.” She abandoned the maps and shifted Harry to her other hip. “He says we can work on our communications skills while he’s here.” She grinned. “Sounds kind of good, doesn’t it?”

Mackenzie had known Tyler North as long as she had the Winters. He’d left Cold Ridge early for the air force, but kept coming back, hanging on to the house where his eccentric mother, a well-regarded artist, had raised him on her own. He’d seemed to know, on some level, that he and Carine were destined for each other and a life together in their hometown.

“Mackenzie?” Carine touched her friend’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“Just drifting.”

“Did you come here alone?”

Mackenzie nodded, not sure how much detail she wanted to go into now. But eventually Carine would drag it all out of her – the creepy events of the past week, Harris’s murder. Rook.

“Your FBI guy – Andrew -”

“He’s still in Washington.”

Carine raised an eyebrow. “But you two are getting along?”

“Better.” Mackenzie smiled, thinking of Rook and his fixer-upper house within blocks of his father and brothers. A complicated man and yet totally straightforward. “I don’t know. I think Rook might want a woman more like his grandmother. Someone to bake cookies.”

“Have you told him you make a mean chocolate chip cookie?”

Mackenzie laughed, but her laugh sounded forced even to her. “No, because it’s the only thing I can make.”

Carine’s expression darkened. “We heard about Harris Mayer. I called Nate, but he wouldn’t tell me a thing. Told me not to bug you. You found the body?”

“Yesterday afternoon,” Mackenzie said.

“That must have been awful.” Carine winced; she’d come upon a murder scene once herself, before she and Tyler were married. “I remember Harris visiting Beanie. He always struck me as one of those people who had it all but still wasn’t satisfied.”

“I guess it wasn’t in his nature.”

Carine hoisted Harry higher onto her hip and smiled, kissing the top of his little bald head. “Little mister here is getting to be a lug. What are your plans?”

“I’m meeting with the state police this afternoon for an update.”

“Beanie?”

“I’m on my way out to see her right now.”

“Harry and I have had either Gus or friends staying with us this week, but Tyler gets back tonight. We’ll be at the house if you need anything.”

“I’m sorry about what happened, Carine. This guy should never have gotten away from me.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You’re not superhuman. This man had his chance with me, and he didn’t take it. He let me go. For what it’s worth, I wasn’t his target, whether or not he was thinking rationally.”

“If Tyler doesn’t make it back here tonight, will you call me?”

“Don’t worry about me, okay? You’ve got enough on your plate.” Harry gave a huge yawn, and Carine kissed him again. “Nap time.” She smiled, winking at Mackenzie. “For me, too.”

Two minutes after Carine left, Gus entered the store from the back room, grunting when he spotted Mackenzie. “When did you get here?”

“And a bright and cheery good morning to you, too, Gus.”

He sighed. “I’m in a lousy mood.”

“I can see. I arrived about fifteen minutes ago. You just missed Carine and Harry.”

“I’m running late. I was up at Beanie’s last night. She wasn’t nervous about staying at the lake by herself after her friend in Washington turned up cut to pieces, but I was.” He pushed a palm over his gray hair and glanced around the store, as if someone might have moved everything while he’d been gone. “She kicked me out an hour ago. I’ve always gotten under her skin.”

“And vice versa.”

“I guess.” He waved a hand irritably. “She’s upset, but she won’t admit it. I heard you and your FBI agent found Mayer yesterday?”

“We did.”

Gus sighed, bending down suddenly to scoop up a shirt that had fallen off a hanger. “That can’t have been good. Finding bodies – that’s worse than teaching college freshmen, don’t you think?” Gus laid the shirt on the counter, not waiting for an answer. “I assume you’re on your way out to Beanie’s.”

Mackenzie nodded. “She’s not expecting me, though.”

“Just as well. She keeps saying she’s missed something. She’s driving herself crazy.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Yeah.” Gus softened, some of the energy going out of his irritation. “If you need to borrow my truck -”

“I rented a car at the airport.”

He grinned at her. “The world must be coming to an end.”

Having a car gave her freedom of movement, but she’d also used the drive from the airport to think. She hesitated, then said, “Gus, have you talked to Beanie about Cal?”

He blew out a breath. “Yeah. She’s not thrilled with you or me right now.”

“What would she have done if she’d been in our position?”

“I tried that one on her. Didn’t work. She went on about honesty, keeping secrets from friends. She’s just embarrassed. That rat-bastard brought those women out to the lake knowing it’d humiliate her if she found out.”

“Then there was more than one. I figured as much, but I only saw him with a dark-haired woman.”

Gus seemed uncomfortable with the entire subject. “There were at least two that I know of, probably more. I drove by one day and saw him out on the dock with a blonde – young, pretty. I was tempted to stop, but I didn’t.” He added awkwardly, “Figured it wasn’t my business.”

Mackenzie picked up a notepad from his counter and handed it to him. “Write down a description. Everything you can think of – hair, eyes, height, weight, dates. Don’t censor yourself. I’ll take it with me when I meet with Detective Mooney this afternoon.”

“All right, Deputy,” he said with a sudden flash of amusement, taking the pad. “I’ll do that.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her a grudging smile. “It’s good to see you, kid. How’s the cut?”

“Healing well.”

She said goodbye and headed out, yesterday’s storms leaving the air feeling washed and clean, the mountains in sharp relief against a cloudless sky. Cold Ridge was home in a way Washington never would be, but, she thought, climbing into her rented car, why not have both?

Before she was out of range of any cell service, she checked her phone for messages. T.J. had called, asking her to get in touch with him. She dialed his number, and he picked up on the first ring. “Hey, T.J. What’s going on? Is Rook with you?”

“He’s on his way up there. Mackenzie, I’m in your guy’s condo.”

“You mean Cal?”

“No. I’m talking about your stalker-attacker. A part-time night doorman recognized him from the sketch you left. He leased a corporate condo on the floor above Cal Benton’s place.”

“Do you have a name?” T.J. didn’t hesitate. “Jesse Lambert.”

Mackenzie shook her head, as if T.J. was in the car with her. “The name doesn’t sound familiar. Not at all. Any hard evidence it’s the right guy?”

“Just kitchen knives so far. The place is pretty sterile.”

“What about Cal? Any sign of him?”

“Not yet.” T.J. paused a moment, then went on. “Rook’s on his way to New Hampshire. He’ll be at your meeting this afternoon with the investigators up there. His flight’s just a couple hours behind yours.”

“He planned this all along, didn’t he?”

“He had his ticket before I arrived with the doughnuts this morning.”

Mackenzie sighed. “The man’s relentless.”

“I’m not going there,” T.J. said with a small chuckle. “Stay safe, Mackenzie. This guy -”

“I know. It’s that hydrangea. Creepy.”

This time, T.J. didn’t laugh.

When she hung up, Mackenzie debated waiting in the local diner and watching for black sedans, but she didn’t. She wanted to see Bernadette, and, she thought, the lake, the shed, the brush where her attacker had hidden, the route he’d taken into the woods. The entire scene, with fresh eyes.

Jesse Lambert.

The name didn’t do anything for her. It was still the eyes that seemed familiar.