Page 21 of Bait and Switch (Subtle Deceptions #2)
FOURTEEN
Casey
Tuesday, maybe Wednesday, too close for comfort
“That was close,” Elton said quietly. “Too close. What the hell is going on around here?”
They were in his living room while Gabe took a shower.
He’d said he needed to get the smell of smoke off his skin, but Casey figured he also needed some time to himself to process what had almost happened.
If not for the cat, he’d probably have died.
Casey didn’t appreciate the way his stomach twisted at that thought.
“It was.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking Charming is damn lucky that cat chose tonight to come in from the cold.”
Shifting back in his recliner, Elton raised a single bushy snow-white eyebrow. “He does have a dash of charm, doesn’t he?”
Casey ignored Elton’s comment as he leaned against the back of the couch, his leg stretched out to accommodate his banged-up knee, his head angled to stare at the ceiling, and let the events of the night replay.
He’d gone to sleep early, physically and mentally exhausted from the rescue.
Under normal circumstances, he’d like to think he would have heard a boat in the water and trespassers on the dock.
Maybe he’d gotten too used to the sound of watercraft and whatnot at all hours. But maybe the perps had floated in on the current from wherever they’d come? That would be much quieter than using a motor and would explain why Bowie hadn’t alerted him.
“As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t think we can blame this on the big city creeps that Gabe is hiding from,” Casey finally said.
Gabe had hinted that he thought the Molotov cocktail assault was further than the Colavitos would go.
God, he still had a knee-jerk reaction to agreeing with Charming Fucker; it went against every cell in his body.
“Too many things point to local knowledge and not just from chatting up Barry at the store, who we know cannot keep a secret to save his life. Whoever is behind this must be familiar with the marina and the dock itself. And they went for the Shangri-La first, where Vale was either killed or dumped. Why? Not that I’m a criminal mastermind, but it seems to me that if Gabe was the intended target, they would’ve hit the Ticket first, make sure they succeeded. ”
“Maybe they didn’t know which boat was which? But what you’re saying makes sense. Was Gabe an afterthought? Is it possible they were trying to get rid of evidence?”
“What evidence? The Shangri-La was already sinking. The marina board was planning a vote at the spring meeting to declare it derelict and have it towed away if the owner didn’t come forward.”
Who owned the Shangri-La was one of the things Casey felt he should have known, but he was not on the board and had never thought to ask when one of them was around.
“Maybe they think Gabe witnessed something? He says he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary before he left for town, but maybe he did and doesn’t know it?”
“Maybe,” Casey agreed. “But if he doesn’t know what he saw, why would someone try and kill him for it?”
“Because they don’t know that he doesn’t know what he saw.”
“Christ, I can’t even follow that.”
They were silent for a moment. The shower was still running, but the small house was otherwise quiet. Bowie had made himself comfortable tucked in between the couch and the recliner, where he could keep an eye on everyone.
“Who does own the Shangri-La ?” Elton asked.
“Pardon me? The man who knows everything and everyone on the island doesn’t know who’s responsible for the Shangri-La ?”
Elton scowled at him, his eyebrows drawn together tightly. “No, I don’t. I’ve done some research, but I’m not good with the internet, you know that. And the computer at the library is usually reserved before I can get there. And I didn’t have a reason to want to know.”
Down the hall, the sound of the shower stopped, then they heard a few thumps and a muttered fuck me .
Casey snorted but quickly wiped the grin off his face.
“It didn’t seem important to me. They obviously pay the moorage, or the board would’ve done something about it before now.
” He blew out a sigh. “I’ll reach out to my connection in Olympia and have her do a search.
The one time I poked around, I only got as far as an LLC and a post office box.
But there must be a legal name somewhere. ”
A few minutes later, Charming emerged from the shower, a towel slung over his bare shoulders, his dark hair damp.
Somewhere he’d found long underwear bottoms that left zero to the imagination unless Casey had been curious about any tattoos.
Which he was not. He didn’t want to be noticing anything about Gabriel Karne.
And yet, here he was, noticing. And Charming Fucker did not appear to have any tattoos.
Gabe realized they were both watching him and grinned.
Casey quickly schooled his expression to appear unaffected, while Elton seemed amused.
How the man could summon a smile after a night like they’d had, Casey couldn’t imagine.
Did he take nothing seriously? The thought immediately pissed Casey off because his dad had constantly told him he was too serious.
“ Laugh a little, son, it’s no big deal .
” But neither his dad nor mom had laughed much in recent years.
Not that Casey spoke to them often. Or ever.
“I’m not sleeping in jeans, and for some reason I threw these in my bag when I was leaving Seattle.” Gabe lifted one leg, twisting it to show off the moose-festooned pj’s. Setting his foot down again, he said, “No idea why I did, but they’re coming in useful tonight. This morning. Whatever.”
Sleep. Casey needed that too. Gabe’s rambling speech had him pushing to his feet.
“I’m taking off, I’ll call about the Shangri-La first thing in the morning.”
Casey left, returning to the marina and rowing Bowie and himself out to The Barbara , exhausted and beyond ready to hit the sack once more. He didn’t bother to do more than strip off his jeans before falling onto his bed.
The resulting yowl was nearly the end of him.
“Goddamn, I forgot about you,” he growled after levitating back to standing now staring at the indignant, still-needing-a- bath animal glaring at him from the mattress. “But I do not have the spoons. Scoot the fuck over, fleabag.”
His phone rang after less than two hours in bed, jerking Casey from sleep.
“For fuck’s sake, what does a guy have to do?” Glancing at the screen, he saw the call was from Olympic Rescue headquarters. His stomach sank. There was only one reason Tor would call this early.
“Tor, please don’t tell me we have another missing person,” he rasped.
“No can do, big guy. But heard you had some excitement last night, so you’re second string today. Consider this a courtesy call.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s two people, actually. A couple day hikers didn’t return from Big Bear last night.
We got the call an hour ago. The team is getting ready to head up, but I thought you’d want to know.
Sounds like they have decent equipment and whatnot, so hopefully it’s just that they took too long and decided to stay over. ”
“Is the team aware that Calvin Perkins has possibly been sighted?”
He wouldn’t put it past the sheriff to keep that information to himself.
“Yeah,” Tor confirmed. “Everyone who can be is armed. And those who can’t probably are as well.”
That at least was good news. Even with no proof, Casey decided it had been Deputy Eagan who’d made sure word got around.
“Any news on Carlos?”
The medivac had flown him directly to the closest trauma hospital, which was in Seattle.
“We haven’t heard anything.”
Casey hoped they would hear from the brush worker—mostly because it meant he was on the way to recovering—but also maybe they’d learn more about the interaction with Perkins, get a clue that would point to where he was hiding out.
“Damn.”
“So, what happened with you last night?” Tor asked. “Sounds like you had a close call.”
Of course Tor had already heard about the fire. Of course he had, the man slept with a police radio near his head and Simeon Greery in his bed. Maybe it was Simeon’s bed, Casey didn’t know, and it wasn’t his damn business.
“There isn’t a lot to go on yet, but someone torched two of the sailboats moored here. The guy who’s been living aboard one of them managed to get out—and with his cat, but it was close.”
Too close for Casey’s comfort. He swung his legs out from underneath the bedcovers and rose to his feet.
There was no way he’d be able to fall back asleep anyway, not with his imagination working overtime.
He’d shut his eyes and see the Shangri-La burning, or Charming racing down the dock, sheer panic on his face, and sometimes Casey wasn’t there to save the day.
It was too early, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to function on only a few hours’ sleep.
With his phone pressed against his ear, he padded out to the galley and flicked on the generator and then the Keurig. He needed coffee stat. Bowie licked at his empty food bowl, reminding Casey that he hadn’t eaten yet.
“The perps got away in a small watercraft. I didn’t see it, too busy getting The Barbara to safety.”
“Damn. Well, keep your phone close by in case we need more bodies searching today. Hopefully, we’ll find these two quickly. From what we’ve been told, they were prepared for inclement weather, so at least we shouldn’t be looking for popsicles.”