Annie had a feeling he was saying the words more to convince himself than to sway her, and she didn’t answer as she watched the windshield wipers swiping back and forth, clearing the gathering rain from the glass.
“I don’t want to believe he’s capable of something like this. I love him. He’s like a brother to me, but the stats are overwhelming. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t at least rule him out.”
Annie nodded to give Jake some sign that she was listening, but said nothing.Overwhelmingwas the perfect word for it. She was overwhelmed with sorrow for the grieving mother and father in that filthy blue house behind them. Overwhelmed with confusion as the details of Jamie’s recent life and sudden death raised more questions than answers.But mostly, she was overwhelmed, yet again, with doubt about the man who lived in the boathouse.
Daniel had lied to her before. Brilliantly. Smoothly. Convincing her that he was someone else entirely before revealing the truth about his past. Whether she liked it or not, she had been duped by him. Fooled. And a selfish, heartsick part of her wanted to ignore that he was the obvious suspect to start with.
Of all people, Daniel Barela was a man who knew how to live outside the boundaries of what society deemed normal. He had told her his version of how he had fled his hometown, but that’s exactly what it had been;hisversion, and she’d taken him at his word. But what if Gary Dunn had been the one telling the truth at the press conference all those years ago? Daniel clearly knew how to lie. And he knew how to hide. Did he also know how to kill?
In the driver’s seat, Jake cleared his throat, and Annie slid him a sideways glance. Daniel had fooled him, too, and if the investigation led where she feared it might, there would come a point when she would have to decide whether to betray Daniel’s trust.
The familiarNO TRESPASSINGsigns appeared one by one, overbright against the rain-drenched tree trunks to which they were nailed. Annie’s gaze jumped from warning to warning as they neared the gate that she already knew would be locked.
Who are you?she wondered, not for the first time as the signs flew past.Who are you, really?
The gate was indeed closed and locked, and Jake pulled right up to it, pressing a closed fist against the horn for several seconds. The door of the boathouse did not open, and Annie watched the windows for movement inside, but they perfectly mirrored the clearing, giving nothing away. Jake shifted into park and opened the door. Leaning out of the car with one foot on the ground, he cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Daniel!”
His shout echoed across the clearing, and when it was met withsilence, he ducked back inside and turned off the engine. “I don’t think he’s here.”
“He might still be down at the Wards’ place. The stable’s huge, it probably took more than a few days to figure out where the wiring went wrong.”
Jake nodded, slipping his arms into his jacket before stepping out of the car. Annie followed, sparing a quick glance at the low clouds scraping the tips of the pines with mist.
The downpour had lightened considerably, and the firs around the clearing hung heavy with moisture, their lower boughs resting on the ground, higher branches shedding excess drops with a wet, tapping patter that filled the air.
For several moments, Jake stood in front of the gate with his hands on his hips, lower lip moving in and out of his teeth. He stared at the silver padlock that barred entry into the clearing, and after one long exhale, he nodded.
“Come on.” He propped a shoe on the gate and started to climb.
“Jake.” Annie reached for his arm. “We can’t just barge in without a warrant, you know that.”
Jake stared down at her, jaw working as the falling mist coated his hair. “I won’t go inside the boathouse without his permission, but you and I both know that this isn’t just cut-and-dried law enforcement anymore. I’m not only here as a cop, I’m also the guy who discovered Jamie’s body, and I’m Daniel’s best friend. The lines are blurry, Annie.”
There was pain in his eyes. Pain and worry. He didn’t want Daniel to have anything to do with this any more than Annie did. They had long since strayed from the black-and-white investigation of Hannah Schroeder’s case and were deep into the gray area of Jamie’s—where the distinctions between neighbor and victim and friend and suspect were harder to define.
Annie met Jake’s gaze for a moment, then nodded, following him up and over the gate.
The boathouse was dark and shadowed where it sat tucked underthe fringe of the dripping woods, and Annie was struck by how forlorn it looked. In sunlight, the building was cozy and quirky, beloved for its shabby-chic furniture and its leaning stack of firewood. It was an extension of Daniel himself, damaged and rebuilt stronger, a stubborn survivor of the past that had burned down behind it. But there was something sinister about the sight of it now, sitting alone, with water streaming from the corner gutters and the lower wall stained with rain.
Annie trailed Jake to the side door, where he hesitated with his hand on the knob. He held it for a moment, then let go and knocked instead. Again, he called Daniel’s name loudly, and Annie held her breath, listening for sounds within, but the dripping of rain from the trees was too loud.
“Not home,” Jake murmured, turning around to scan the clearing over Annie’s shoulder. “Where do you think he keeps his canoe?”
“Over there.” Annie turned to indicate the woods on the western shore. “He dug a little place on the embankment to slide it into the water. He hasn’t sealed the inside yet, so he keeps it upside down under a tarp to protect it from the weather.”
She’d said too much, and Jake looked at her curiously, but if he was wondering how she knew all of that, he didn’t voice it.
“Show me,” he said instead, and Annie led him to the spot where the canoe lay between two firs, covered by a blue tarp—dimpled with rain.
Jake slid the tarp away. “Help me roll it over.”
They each took an end, turning the heavy canoe upright onto its hull. The rough wood was familiar under her hands, and Annie pushed back hard against the memory of her one and only voyage out on the lake in this vessel, a day that had started joyful and filled with laughter and ended with the unraveling of yet another lie Daniel had told her.
When the canoe was righted, Jake reached out a hand and ran it along the hollowed-out inside of the log, rustically chipped by the hatchet andstill smelling sharply of pitch. When he lifted his hand again, Annie’s heart sank. On his fingers were several small wood shavings, tiny, sharp little splinters, like those Doc Porter had removed from Jamie’s shorts.
“I wondered,” Jake murmured. “The second I saw those wood shavings at the morgue.”
