The Christmas Rescue (3 page)

She leaped out of bed, stumbling in the darkness as she sought and found the light switch. She winced and shielded her eyes from the harsh brightness that flooded the room.

The sound had come from upstairs. She opened Brianna's door to make sure she and Clyde were all right, and then headed down the hall, through the kitchen and into the great room. Her guests, two married couples, were coming down the stairs from the second-floor loft.

“I'm telling you, I saw a man trying to get into our room!” The older woman, Gloria Hanover, spoke in a shrill voice.

“I didn't hear anything,” her husband, Edward, muttered.

“I'm so sorry,” Kayla said, hurrying forward. “Did you already call the police? Or should I?”

Gloria shook her head no.

“I already checked out their room,” Allen Russell said, rolling his eyes. Apparently he wasn't too impressed with Gloria's claim. His wife, Lorraine, went over to stand close to his side. “There's no one there. And even if there had been someone there, I'm sure her shriek scared him off.”

“Are you insinuating I'm crazy?” Gloria demanded, facing Allen, her face flushed and her hands propped on her ample hips. “Because I know what I saw. There was a man standing there, his face pressed against the patio door.”

“There now, no one is calling you crazy,” her husband, Edward soothed, patting her arm.

Kayla tried to smile, but deep down, a cold fear settled in her stomach. Each of the guest rooms had access through a patio door to the deck outside. And she couldn't help remembering how the security system had been turned off. “I'm calling the police. If Mrs. Hanover saw a man, then we need the authorities to investigate.”

Leaving her guests to talk among themselves, she went back toward the kitchen to find Brianna standing there with the dog at her feet. She rushed over to give her daughter a hug.

“What happened, Mommy?” Brianna asked sleepily.

She didn't want to scare her daughter, especially after all the strange events over the past two days, but she couldn't lie to her, either. “One of the guests heard a scary noise so I need to call the police.”

Luckily, Brianna didn't ask too many more questions. Kayla set her down and made the call. The sheriff's department promised to send a deputy right away. Since everyone was up, Kayla brought coffee, tea and the pastries she'd planned for breakfast that morning to the great room. Playing hostess helped soothe her frayed nerves.

Had her guest really seen a man? If so, who?

The deputy's investigation didn't take long. He took her upstairs to the wraparound deck. Jeremy had designed the house so that every guest room had access to the balcony outside. The deputy pointed with a grim look. “See these gouges? Looks like someone did try to get in.”

She swallowed hard, unable to tear her gaze from the
evidence. Apparently Mrs. Hanover hadn't been imagining things at all. Someone had actually tried to break in.

“I'll file a report,” the deputy continued. “Could be just a random burglary unless you have reason to believe someone has targeted you, specifically.”

“Not that I know of,” she said faintly. As much as she wanted to believe in the random burglary theory, the sick dread in her stomach wouldn't let up. What if someone had targeted her? She couldn't imagine why, but the thought wouldn't leave her alone. She forced herself to go back downstairs to where her guests were waiting.

“Edward, I want to leave right now,” Gloria Hanover was saying. “I'm not staying here another night.”

“Great, just great,” Allen Russell muttered.

Kayla's heart sank, but she didn't protest. How could she blame them for wanting to leave? They'd been woken up from a sound sleep by a burglar.

“I won't charge you for last night's stay,” she informed the couples graciously. She'd been depending on their fees to help her sagging bank account, but there was no way she could see taking their money. Not after this.

Dawn was beginning to peek over the horizon as the two couples packed their bags and trooped out the door. After they left, she set her security system and then sank down at the kitchen table, propping her aching head in her hands.

What should she do? Why had someone tried to break in? None of this made any sense.

She desperately wanted to call Rafe. Maybe she was overreacting, but as a single mother alone with a young daughter couldn't help being worried. She had an awful feeling there was something significant behind this
recent break-in. There had been too many odd things happening lately.

And she wouldn't be able to relax until she understood exactly what was going on.

 

On Saturday morning, Rafe returned home to review the plans he and his partner, Evan Marshall, and his commanding officer, Luke Sanders, had made the day before.

They only had a couple of thin leads to follow up on. They needed a break in the case, big-time. There was no point in continuing their surveillance on Schroeder's business, considering the local police had Schroeder's boats taped off as a precaution in case it was a potential crime scene.

He and Evan had agreed to split up the duties in their attempts to jump-start the investigation. Evan's job was to begin a preliminary surveillance on Karl Yancy, the recluse who'd taken up residence near Pelican Point, renting a boat slip conveniently located right next to Schroeder's charter fishing business. Yancy had showed up on their radar because of his timely appearance in Pelican Point, the same week as Bruce Pappas's sighting on Schroeder's boat. The coincidence of his showing up when a well-known criminal had escaped was too much to ignore.

Evan's theory was that Yancy was involved too, working with Shroeder. No one seemed to know much about the stranger since he didn't socialize with anyone around the lakefront. And his background information was sketchy, in that it was almost too clean. Which was suspicious enough in itself. So Evan also agreed to do more digging to see what they could find out about the guy.

Rafe's job was to work on getting information out of Charlie Turkow, the grizzled, older man who had a charter business that was in direct competition with Schroeder's. They'd spent some time watching Charlie's charter, too, and had seen some of the same sort of suspicious activity, his boats coming and going at odd times of the day and night.

But when they'd dug deeper, they'd discovered Charlie had a daughter who lived in Michigan. Sure enough, the next two times they were able to follow him, that's where he'd gone. Still, his commanding officer believed Charlie Turkow knew more about what might be going on in Pelican Point than he was letting on and wanted Rafe to uncover whatever the older man knew.

Rafe had swung by Charlie's charter after leaving the gym earlier that morning, but the older man wasn't anywhere around and one of this boats was gone. Since finding him in the open water of Lake Michigan wasn't likely, he returned home. And stewed over what little he knew about Bill Schroeder's activities before he'd died. It bothered him that the guy had gone to visit Kayla. That he'd recently mounted a memorial in honor of her husband's memory.

He raked a hand through his hair.

He didn't like the idea of Bill Schroeder being anywhere near Kayla. Leaving her alone Thursday night had been difficult. At least he could rest a little easier, knowing she had guests staying with her this weekend.

But what about once her guests were gone? She and Brianna were all alone in the middle of the woods.

His cell phone rang, and his chest tightened when he Kayla's name on the display. He couldn't imagine she'd call unless it was important. “Kayla? Is everything all right?”

“We're both fine,” she said quickly, as if knowing he might be imagining the worst. He tried to calm his racing pulse. “But Rafe, someone tried to break in last night.”

“Break in?” he echoed, jumping to his feet. “Why? What happened?”

“I don't know,” she said, sounding truly bewildered. “I had guests, so I didn't have the security system on. But now I'm worried. My guests left early and I changed my access code, but what if the burglar tries to break in again? I'm scared, Rafe.”

The underlying fear in her voice gripped him by the throat. “I'm on my way,” he said, heading out to his jeep. “Make sure the alarm is set, and I'll be there as soon as possible.”

T
he fact that Kayla didn't argue worried him even more. Rafe shut his phone and started the jeep, more shaken than he cared to admit. He headed for her house, pushing the speed limit as much as he dared.

Someone had tried to break into Kayla's home. What had the intruder been looking for? Had he missed something the night they'd found the security system turned off? Somehow it didn't make sense that simple burglars would target a home so far away from town.

He'd been a fool to leave her alone.

His cell phone rang again. “DeSilva,” he answered, when he saw Luke Sanders' name light up the screen.

“The medical examiner has finished the autopsy on your dead body. The base of his skull was cracked, and the ME confirmed he was dead before he hit the water. Because of the location of his skull fracture, the medical examiner is leaning toward a homicide. The pathology results won't be back for thirty days.”

“Did they confirm his ID with dental records?”

“Yes. With the tattoo they were pretty certain he was Bill Schroeder and finding his dentist wasn't hard. He doesn't have a lot of family, so the police are heading out to inform Jeannie, his ex-wife, now.”

Rafe grimaced. “I'm sure that will be difficult.”

“Did you talk to Charlie Turkow yet? He must know something about the criminals being smuggled out through Canada.”

“Not yet. He wasn't around when I stopped in. I'll talk to him as soon as I can.”

“All right. Call me if you get something significant.”

“Will do.” Rafe hung up the phone and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel thoughtfully. Should he let Kayla know about Bill Schroeder? The news was better coming from him than through the media. And he was fairly certain Schroeder's death would make headlines, especially since the medical examiner would likely deem his death a murder.

Rafe pressed a little harder on the accelerator. He couldn't explain this desperate need to get to Kayla. He hadn't felt this protective toward a woman in a long time. Since Angela.

He tried to tell himself to relax, but his lead foot was ignoring the message. When he pulled into Kayla's driveway, he was amazed to note he'd made the trip in a record thirty-three minutes.

The instant he stopped, the front door popped open and Kayla stepped out. His first instinct was to yell at her for not waiting with the alarm set.

But when she hurried down to meet him, he couldn't speak. Instead, he leaped from his jeep and threw caution to the wind, pulling her close in a warm, reassuring hug. “Are you all right?” he murmured, filling his head with her light, strawberry scent.

She grasped him tightly around the waist, burying her face against his chest. “Yes,” she said in a muffled voice. “Thanks for coming.”

“You couldn't have kept me away,” he assured her. Holding her close was sheer heaven. He would have been happy to stay like this all day, but of course, she pulled away when Brianna and Clyde bounded out of the house, followed more slowly by an elegant-looking older woman with silver hair. He recognized her as Kayla's mother-in-law, Ellen Wilson, whom he'd met earlier that year when he and Alex had insisted on putting Kayla's security system in place.

“Mr. Rafe!” Brianna heedlessly flung herself at him and he sucked in a quick breath and caught her before she could get hurt. He lifted her into his arms as the dog barked excitedly at his feet. “You forgot to say goodbye,” she accused, looking him directly in the eye.

“I did?” He frowned, distracted by her accusation. He cast his mind backward in time, wondering what she meant.

“The night we had pizza.” Brianna's green eyes were full of reproach. “You didn't say goodbye.”

“I'm sorry,
mi nina,
” he murmured. “You're right, I guess I forgot.” He glanced at Kayla who watched their interaction with a worried frown.

“Brianna, I explained how Mr. Rafe needed to get back to work,” Kayla said, walking back to the house. Still carrying Brianna, he followed on her heels. “Remember? He works all different times of the day and night.”

He wasn't used to anyone making excuses for him. In fact, he hadn't even considered the idea that Brianna would notice he'd left without saying goodbye. He could see by Kayla's guarded expression that he'd inadvertently hurt her daughter.

It was clear she was worried her daughter might be growing too attached to him. And could he blame her?
Brianna was at a vulnerable age. He took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts. Brianna was a great kid, but he wasn't ready to be a father again.

Not when he'd failed so miserably last time.

He hadn't been able to save his infant son's life. To have another child dependent on him was inconceivable. The very thought shook him to the core. No, having a family was not an option.

“Next time,” he promised, quickly setting Brianna back on her feet and closing the front door behind him.

“Rafe, you remember my mother-in-law, Ellen, don't you?” Kayla said, belatedly reintroducing them.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes, ma'am. Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Ellen said, although her expression was guarded and he wondered if Kayla's mother-in-law viewed him as some sort of threat. As if he was trying to replace Jeremy in Kayla's heart. He was tempted to reassure her he'd only come to offer protection, not to start something he had no intention of finishing.

They all walked into the house and Kayla reengaged the security system once they were safely inside.

“Come on, Brianna, we need to finish making Christmas cookies,” Ellen said, as if sensing the two adults needed to talk alone.

“Cool!” Brianna raced toward the kitchen, but then paused to glance back at him. “Don't leave without saying goodbye,” she reminded him.

“I won't,” he promised. He turned toward Kayla. “Tell me about the break-in. What happened?”

Kayla walked over to the sofa in front of the great room fireplace. He froze. She'd put up Christmas
decorations. The brightly lit tree in the corner of the room reminded him of his early years with Angela. She'd loved Christmas.

Now there was only a black hole in his heart.

He took a seat across from Kayla, trying to shut out the memories.

“I had two couples staying here last night,” Kayla began. “In fact, they were supposed to stay for the weekend. At four in the morning, one of the women screamed, waking everyone up. She claimed a man's face was pressed up against the patio door in her room. We called the police and the deputy found deep gouges in the wood near the door handle where the burglar must have tried to jimmy the lock in his attempt to get in.”

“Why didn't you set the alarm on the security system?” Rafe asked.

“Because I don't want my guests to think the alarm is necessary. Business is slow enough without insinuating this place isn't perfectly safe. And besides, it would be too easy for one of the guests to trigger the alarm. All they'd have to do is to open a patio door to let some air in. I refuse to impose restrictions on my guests.”

She was right. He didn't like it, but she was right. He remembered she'd argued this point fiercely when Alex insisted on putting the system in.

“I just don't understand. Why would anyone try to rob me? Everyone knows I don't have a lot of money or jewelry or anything else of value.”

“I agree, it doesn't make sense,” Rafe admitted.

Kayla worried her lower lip between her teeth and he wished there was some way to reassure her he'd keep her safe. “I keep coming back to that strange guest I had, Greg Landrum. He rented a room from me last weekend.”

He raised a brow curiously. She hadn't mentioned the guy when they spoke the other day. “Why was he strange?”

She lifted her shoulder. “Little things about him were odd. Like he claimed he had come to hike, but his hiking boots were brand-new and gave him blisters. He didn't have warm winter outdoor gear, either. I heard him making noise in his room in the middle of the night, and when I asked him about it the next morning, he claimed he had trouble sleeping.”

“What did he look like?” Rafe asked.

“I don't know, in his mid-thirties maybe, with dishwater-blond hair. He had weasly eyes.”

Weasly eyes? “Was that what bothered you? His eyes?”

She frowned. “Maybe. Clyde didn't like him, either. He barked and growled at him all the time. I guess the strangest thing of all was that I saw him down at the lakefront the day Brianna and I found the body.” She looked troubled as she gazed at him. “Rafe, do you think it's possible he's targeted me for some reason?”

Greg Landrum. Would be worth putting his name through their database to see what popped. “Maybe, but again, it doesn't make sense that he would come back after he'd already been a guest here. He would know there weren't a lot of valuables here, wouldn't he?”

Unless he was looking for something that only had value to him. But what?

“Yes, you're right.” She gave a dejected sigh. “Maybe the deputy was right, that this was nothing more than a random attempt. I don't live in town, but it's possible someone saw the article in the paper and figured I had something here worth stealing.”

“Article?” he echoed sharply. “What article?”

She grimaced. “I did an interview for the
Green Bay Gazette
about two weeks ago. The editor is a friend of Ellen's and did the interview as a favor.”

He hadn't seen the article and her theory was plausible. He wanted to link everything back to Schroeder, but he could be overreacting. It was possible her break-in had been a random attack. “Do you have a copy?”

“I have several,” she responded dryly. “Everyone in town saved one for me. I'll be right back.”

He watched her disappear into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with the folded newspaper in hand. Must have been some favor, or a really slow news day, because her picture was plastered on the front page of the lifestyle section. Kayla looked beautiful, her smile a little sad, as she stood in the kitchen. He noticed there was another glossy picture on the wall behind her in the photo. This one showed Kayla and her husband standing down at the marina in front of a charter fishing boat. He scanned the article. It briefly mentioned Kayla's husband, Jeremy, had finished building the B and B in the months before he died. But otherwise, the article was all about Kayla and her renowned breakfast pastries.

“Nice article,” he murmured. Broaching the subject of her dead husband for the first time, he raised his gaze to meet hers. “I'm sorry for your loss, Kayla.”

“Thank you.”

He knew it wasn't really any of his business, but he couldn't help adding, “I know what it's like to lose someone you love. I don't think I would have been able to cope if not for my faith. God's strength and love helped me through the grief.”

“Your faith?” Her gaze darted to the cross he always wore around his neck, a gift from his mother after his wife and unborn child had died. “Now you sound like
Alex and Shelby. Alex has changed a lot since meeting Shelby. And he seems very happy.”

“Does that surprise you?”

She flushed again and glanced away. “A little. But in a good way. He's a better person now that he's met Shelby. They've invited me to attend church with them, but weekends tend to be my busiest time. At least, when I actually have guests,” she amended.

“I understand. When I'm out on the water and attending service isn't an option, I just find a few minutes of quiet time to pray or maybe read my Bible.”

“I've never read the Bible,” Kayla murmured. “To be honest, I have trouble understanding why God would take my husband away so young.”

“Sometimes it is difficult to understand God's plan. Reading the Bible can help. The book of Psalms is my favorite. ‘The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit.' That quote is from Psalm 40:1.”

“Sounds beautiful,” Kayla said thoughtfully. “Maybe you're right. I'll think about it. Might be interesting to see what has Alex so enthralled.”

He wanted to offer to attend church with her, but sensed she wasn't quite ready. Besides, being at church with Kayla would feel like having a family.

Friends, he reminded himself. They were just friends.

Kayla tapped the newspaper article, her attention centered once again on the burglary attempt. “Do you think this article is the cause of the break-in?”

“Maybe,” he said, but he didn't really think so. The odd guest she'd had was more concerning. “I think we'll do some digging on Greg Landrum. The fact that he was
down at the lakefront when you and Brianna were there bothers me.”

Kayla frowned and shivered. “He bothered me, too. I really wanted Clyde with us down there to help keep him away. Which reminds me, did you find out the identity of the victim yet?”

He let out a long breath. This was the moment he'd been dreading. He slowly nodded and reached out to take her hand in his, sure she'd be shocked when he told her the news. “Kayla, the victim you found happens to be someone you know. We've identified him as Bill Schroeder.”

 

Kayla blanched, unable to believe she'd heard him correctly. “Bill?
Dead?
Are you sure?”

“I'm sorry, but yes. We're sure. The police are notifying his next of kin as we speak.”

“H-how did he die?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“His skull was cracked and he was dead before he fell in the water.” Rafe's expression was full of compassion. “You need to know, the medical examiner believes he might have been murdered.”

She gasped, images from the lakefront scene flashing before her eyes. The red shirt bobbing in the water had been Bill Schroeder. And he'd been murdered? How? Why? “But I just saw him a week and a half ago.”