a tool bench hard enough to knock loose whatever had been hanging on the wall. Squinting to make out the shapes in the dark, he replaced the tools one by one, almost losing a finger to a hatchet or small ax.
Wouldn’t that just be the perfect way to end the day?
Someone really needed to go through this stuff. It was both a hockey enthusiast’s dream and an organizational nightmare all rolled into one. How Coach ever found anything in this chaos made Jackson’s head spin.
Movement to his left had him turning around, ax still in his hand, and then something slammed into him and all he could do was yell.
Chapter Five
“Our perp is getting bolder. He didn’t even wait for it to get dark this time.”
Hayley crouched opposite one of the other detectives. Brian Gauthier was pushing fifty, had been divorced three times and was addicted to lemon-filled doughnuts, and lucky for her, she’d gotten to stare at the gel-like stain on his shirt from said addiction for the past ten minutes.
After Jackson drove away, she’d called her partner back, filling him in on the wedding disaster, then decided she should clean her neglected apartment. When that wasn’t enough to keep him mind of Jackson, she’d changed into her favorite pair of ripped jeans and an old T-shirt, planning to head back to her gramps’ to get more painting done. She hadn’t made it as far as her front door when the call came in about another robbery.
Offering to assist whoever was already on-site had seemed like the perfect distraction after the past twenty-four hours. Things couldn’t possibly get any more surreal.
“You and that hockey player gonna shack up?”
Apparently she was wrong.
Ignoring Gauthier’s question, she glanced from the shallow impression in the mud next to the basement window, and across the private backyard.
Being the last house on the cul-de-sac, the backyard was only visible to the neighbors on one side. The woods bordering the far side of the property left plenty of cover for the perpetrator to get into the yard virtually undetected.
The couple who owned the two-story brick home had been guests at Allie and Josh’s wedding—along with half the town, it seemed—and then had dinner with friends instead of attending the reception. Their arrival had startled the thief, and the couple heard him flee the house, leaving the back door open behind him.
“What alarm company do they use?”
“Big company out of Boston,” Gauthier answered. He moved to the basement window, careful not to disturb the footprint.
Retracing what she’d guessed might have been their guy’s path, she kept her eyes open for any other evidence that would give them the break they needed to nail his ass to the wall. Like every other scene, though, there wasn’t much to go on.
She returned to Gauthier’s side as he picked at the dried lemon on his shirt. Hayley had the strong suspicion he would have lifted his shirt to lick at the stain if she hadn’t been standing there.
“I’m going to check the basement.”
Gauthier didn’t look up from his shirt. “I’ll see if the neighbors saw anything.”
“Okay.” Hayley let herself in the back door, relieved the couple had gone to the neighbors so they wouldn’t be in the way. Hayley didn’t want to be in their house any more than they probably wanted her there, but that just came with the job.
Nothing looked to have been disturbed in the kitchen. Their thief hadn’t wasted precious time here. He’d probably assumed he’d have much better luck with the owners’ home office and upstairs bedrooms.
The owners had already turned on the basement light, making the likelihood of getting a viable print from the switch unlikely, assuming their guy had turned on any unnecessary light. She doubted it though. Would have drawn too much attention.
The space was empty except for a handful of boxes and an old exercise bike. The window used to gain entry into the house had been left unlocked. Since
Wouldn’t that just be the perfect way to end the day?
Someone really needed to go through this stuff. It was both a hockey enthusiast’s dream and an organizational nightmare all rolled into one. How Coach ever found anything in this chaos made Jackson’s head spin.
Movement to his left had him turning around, ax still in his hand, and then something slammed into him and all he could do was yell.
Chapter Five
“Our perp is getting bolder. He didn’t even wait for it to get dark this time.”
Hayley crouched opposite one of the other detectives. Brian Gauthier was pushing fifty, had been divorced three times and was addicted to lemon-filled doughnuts, and lucky for her, she’d gotten to stare at the gel-like stain on his shirt from said addiction for the past ten minutes.
After Jackson drove away, she’d called her partner back, filling him in on the wedding disaster, then decided she should clean her neglected apartment. When that wasn’t enough to keep him mind of Jackson, she’d changed into her favorite pair of ripped jeans and an old T-shirt, planning to head back to her gramps’ to get more painting done. She hadn’t made it as far as her front door when the call came in about another robbery.
Offering to assist whoever was already on-site had seemed like the perfect distraction after the past twenty-four hours. Things couldn’t possibly get any more surreal.
“You and that hockey player gonna shack up?”
Apparently she was wrong.
Ignoring Gauthier’s question, she glanced from the shallow impression in the mud next to the basement window, and across the private backyard.
Being the last house on the cul-de-sac, the backyard was only visible to the neighbors on one side. The woods bordering the far side of the property left plenty of cover for the perpetrator to get into the yard virtually undetected.
The couple who owned the two-story brick home had been guests at Allie and Josh’s wedding—along with half the town, it seemed—and then had dinner with friends instead of attending the reception. Their arrival had startled the thief, and the couple heard him flee the house, leaving the back door open behind him.
“What alarm company do they use?”
“Big company out of Boston,” Gauthier answered. He moved to the basement window, careful not to disturb the footprint.
Retracing what she’d guessed might have been their guy’s path, she kept her eyes open for any other evidence that would give them the break they needed to nail his ass to the wall. Like every other scene, though, there wasn’t much to go on.
She returned to Gauthier’s side as he picked at the dried lemon on his shirt. Hayley had the strong suspicion he would have lifted his shirt to lick at the stain if she hadn’t been standing there.
“I’m going to check the basement.”
Gauthier didn’t look up from his shirt. “I’ll see if the neighbors saw anything.”
“Okay.” Hayley let herself in the back door, relieved the couple had gone to the neighbors so they wouldn’t be in the way. Hayley didn’t want to be in their house any more than they probably wanted her there, but that just came with the job.
Nothing looked to have been disturbed in the kitchen. Their thief hadn’t wasted precious time here. He’d probably assumed he’d have much better luck with the owners’ home office and upstairs bedrooms.
The owners had already turned on the basement light, making the likelihood of getting a viable print from the switch unlikely, assuming their guy had turned on any unnecessary light. She doubted it though. Would have drawn too much attention.
The space was empty except for a handful of boxes and an old exercise bike. The window used to gain entry into the house had been left unlocked. Since
Similar Books
