“Will do. I’ll be back,” Jayce said.
“He’s enthusiastic—” A soft smile curled on Cassie’s lips.
“That’s for sure,” he chimed in.
“I was going to say like you.”
“Nah. I’m not that revved up.”
“When it comes to a case, yes, you are.” She shifted. “What passageways are you talking about?”
“They run throughout the lodge. They were built so staff back in the day could move about without bothering guests.”
“Oh. No offense, but that sounds creepy.”
“Housekeeping has a master key at every hotel you stay at. It’s the same thing. There are periodic doors that open up into hallways or bedrooms for cleaning.”
“So someone could walk into my bedroom from the wall?”
“Yeah, if one of the doors leads there.”
“I bet that’s how he’s getting around unseen.”
“I’ll go in and search for him as soon as we complete the autopsy. Well, the best we can do with what we have.”
Forty-five minutes later, they wrapped up. Performing an autopsy on a friend was something Cassie had prayed she’d never have to do on the job, and yet here she was. More than a few tears had been shed, and more were sure to come in the days ahead, but for now, they had to focus on staying alive and catching a killer.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
“For goodness’ sake. It’s like he’s on Red Bull around the clock.” Joel opened the door for Jayce.
“What’d you find?”
“I’ll tell you, but you got an angry mob coming this way if you don’t go in and say something. They’re eating up Izzy and Talbot, who are struggling to keep them calm.”
“Okay. We got longer than I’d anticipated. Quickly tell me what you found so I can direct the conversation appropriately.”
“Brady was killed in the upper shed next to something big. I’m guessing a snowmobile.”
“Guessing?” Joel frowned.
“Whatever it was has been moved.”
“Why a snowmobile?” Cassie asked.
“The space was large, and the dust had settled around it, leaving an imprint.”
“Very smart.” Joel typed it into his phone, where he’d put all their other notes and pics.
“I’m thinking the person knifed Brady from behind, then cut his neck.”
They’d come to the same conclusion. “Why do you think that?”
“I could be wrong...” Jayce shrugged. “But the way the blood was on the floor and the space of the shed. I think Brady’s killer came up behind him, knifed him in the back, and then, when he was down or at least hurt, sliced his throat. That’s not an easy thing to do. The throat muscles, the ligaments. It’s tough, I’ve read.”
“So not something a woman could do?” Joel asked.
Jayce blinked. “A woman? When did we go there?”
