Page 32 of Bait and Switch (Subtle Deceptions #2)

“Mercy Dawson,” Elton confirmed. “She owns the store and is Suzie Warner’s sister.”

“Whoa.” Gabe set his spoon back into his soup. “Whoa, we can’t just willy-nilly go asking people. What if we’re wrong? As reluctant as I am to actually talk to cops, that’s what we need to do.”

Casey ignored him, forcing himself to think back to the night of the bonfire while he spooned just-hot-enough chicken soup into his mouth.

As an incoming high school freshman, he’d been an outlier and very nervous about getting in trouble with his parents.

As it turned out, his parents never learned he’d been at the beach that night. Maya’s death had eclipsed everything.

All the older island kids had been there, including Calvin and Dwayne Perkins. Even Gordon MacDonald, who hadn’t been in high school yet either. And Greta, of course.

“Greta.” He set his empty bowl down and shoved his hand into his side pocket, searching for his cell. When he pulled it out, the damn thing was dead. “Shit.”

“Yeah, you forgot to end the call—that’s how we were able to hear the fuckery that was going on. Not an experience I want to repeat, thank you very much.” Gabe’s cheeks reddened and he avoided eye contact with Casey, as if he’d unintentionally admitted… something .

Huh.

“Here, use mine.” Elton handed over the cordless receiver to his landline.

Dismissing thoughts of Charming Fucker in any capacity other than irritating neighbor, Casey quickly punched in Greta’s number and put her on speaker.

“Elton!” she exclaimed. “Do you know if Casey is okay? I’ve been trying to reach him since I got back from Westfort, and his phone keeps going to voicemail.

I know the fire was put out up there because I talked to Jeremiah, who told me he’d been hurt.

Attacked? When I get my hands on him, I’m going to kill him.

If he’s dead already, I’m going to revive him and kill him again! ”

“Greta—” Casey tried.

“I very clearly told him to call and let me know he was okay—wait, what? Casey? That you? You okay?”

“Yeah, a few bumps and bruises, but I’ll be fine. Look, before you kill me, we have a question for you. It’s about the senior bonfire the year Maya Crane was murdered. You’re on speaker. Gabriel and Elton are here too.”

Casey could picture Greta changing gears from full-on pissed off and scared to curious.

“Okay, sure, I’m intrigued.”

“You knew Suzie Warner, right?”

“Suzie Warner,” she repeated. “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in years. I knew her well enough, I suppose. She was a couple of years older than me. You know how it is in high school. Heaven forbid you associate with underclassmen. But yeah, I knew her.”

“Think back. Can you remember if she was seen after the party? Did she have plans to leave the island right away?”

There was silence while Greta thought back two decades.

“I don’t have a steel-trap memory like you do, Casey. But I don’t recall seeing her around. I mean, she was saying her goodbyes at that party, so one would assume she was at least leaving soon. Why?”

Casey looked at Gabe and Elton, his eyebrows raised. Were they telling Greta what they’d found? They both nodded.

“We found her backpack tonight, on Gordon’s property.”

She was silent for a heartbeat. “The fuck you did.”

“The fuck we did. Calvin Perkins was there, admitted to setting tonight’s fire.

Something to do with his brother, but honestly, I don’t think that detail matters.

But he had the pack, or he found it there, or something along those lines.

I don’t know if he was planning on trying to burn it too or what.

He may not have had a plan. Before I could learn more, someone attacked me—hit me on the head pretty good—and now Calvin is in the wind again. And so is whoever whacked me.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, the attacker disappeared when Gabriel and Elton showed up. They ended up leaving the pack behind.”

“And you’re sure it’s Suzie’s?”

“There’s a tag attached with her name on it. We haven’t opened it. The less we screw around with it, the better.”

“Are you planning on taking it to the sheriff?” she asked carefully. Greta was fully aware of Casey’s innate distrust of the Twana County Sheriff’s Office. And of Sheriff Rizzi in particular.

“We haven’t talked next steps yet.”

Turning the bag in was the right thing to do, but sometimes the obvious right thing was all wrong.

Casey was thinking that the Westfort PD would be the better choice.

Technically, the sheriff had jurisdiction over the entire county, which included The Valley, but Casey didn’t want Rizzi getting his hands on the bag too soon.

Too easy for it to get “lost.” It wouldn’t be the first piece of evidence to conveniently go missing.

“This is going to blow up the island,” Greta eventually said.

“There’s more,” Elton interjected.

Casey cut over to him, surprised. What else could there be, wasn’t finding a missing girl’s backpack where it wasn’t supposed to be enough? Shit, it had been a long day. It was almost—he glanced down at his watch—nine p.m., but it felt closer to midnight. Or he was getting old.

“What is it?” Greta asked.

“Remember how John Stevens was here earlier? That’s what we were calling you about, Casey, to go over what he said and what Kelly Perkins told us when we stopped by her place.”

Elton started speaking and when he was done, Casey was ready to tear somebody’s head off, starting off with Stevens and ending with Rizzi. Twenty years ago, no one had believed him, and it was because the sheriff and the prosecutor had a deal.

“Holy fuck,” muttered Greta.

“But who killed Peter and why?” Gabe asked.

“Not to make it about me or anything, but Peter is the most recently murdered person. His death fits in with all this somehow, but he would’ve left Heartstone before Suzie Warner’s or Maya’s deaths, right?

Which means that Stevens is a key player here because that’s the only way Peter relates to all this.

He prosecuted your brother, right? Using evidence provided by the sheriff, with whom Stevens was in a partnership? ”

“I cannot wait to meet you in person, Gabriel,” said Greta. “You’re thinking Rizzi had—has—Stevens by the balls, and I totally agree. Fast forward twenty years, his son’s murder changes everything, and now Stevens regrets his entire life, as he fucking should. Now what?”

“I’m guessing Stevens is telling the truth about wanting to reconnect with his son. He tried to end, or at least retire from, the agreement, and Vale’s death was the result.” That was Elton.

“He admitted that Peter got a look at some documents,” Gabe said.

“Maybe Peter saw something or maybe Stevens said something to him that tipped him off. I guess we’ll never know.

Did Peter confront Rizzi? Did he go up to see what Snowcap Estates was and, I dunno, end up seeing something he shouldn’t have? ”

Casey eyed Gabe. He suspected that, had Gabe been in Peter’s situation, he would have snooped around.

“If he did drive up there, he could have run into Rizzi or whoever else is part of the investment group,” Casey said. “Maybe he wasn’t killed on purpose, but they”—now he used finger quotes—“decided to leave his body at the marina as a message to Stevens.”

“Why not at Stevens’s house?” Gabe asked.

“Stevens doesn’t live on the island anymore. It would be a bit of a drive with a dead body in the back of a car,” Elton pointed out.

Casey scowled at no one in particular. “Not if you’re the sheriff.”

“We know that Stevens ultimately was the owner of the Shangri-La , so killing Vale and dumping his body there was a message.”

“A direct threat, I’d say.” Greta said. She’d been silent for so long he’d almost forgotten she was on the line.

“Still can’t figure out why they came back and firebombed the Ticket as well as the Shangri-La .”

Gabe had returned to pacing between the kitchen and the hallway, his hands clasped over the top of his head as they brainstormed.

Casey felt a sharp ping in the center of his chest —like the pull of a muscle that hadn’t been used much before now—that he was starting to realize had everything to do with Charming.

He felt a bit dizzy, and it had nothing to do with the knock on his head.

“ If it was the same person.” Greta sounded thoughtful. “But who else would it be?”

“There’s coincidence and then there’s the ridiculous,” Casey said, struggling to his feet. He had to move even if every cell in his body screamed for him to sit his ass back down. “For now, we assume it was the same perp. They must’ve thought Gabe saw or heard something he shouldn’t have.”

He looked over at Gabe, a complicated expression flitting across his face as he watched Casey try, and fail, to hide the pain he was in. His ribs weren’t broken, but there was going to be a hell of a bruise.

“Maybe they didn’t expect you back so soon, or at all,” Casey continued.

“Who besides Elton and me knew for sure that you were living there? If Keith-the-cat hadn’t alerted you, maybe the arsonists would have torched The Barbara too.

Did Vale know you were living aboard? Or did he assume that I could find you because of what my friend Marlene told him? ”

“My bet is Peter didn’t know I was living there and just figured you might know where I was if you were asking about me. He was always good at recon.”

They were all quiet now as they realized just how narrowly Gabriel and Casey had avoided serious injury or death. Casey winced as he moved slightly, reminding himself that he hadn’t avoided getting hurt entirely.

“Well, what are we doing now?” asked Greta.

“Nothing tonight, but tomorrow we ride,” said Gabe. “Or something like that anyway. I’ll drive Casey and Bowie back to the marina—and don’t argue with me, Ranger Man, I’m not having it tonight.”

“ Ranger Man ,” Greta repeated, laughing, although she tried to hide it with a cough.

The call ended with a promise they’d touch base first thing.

Casey released the groan he’d been holding back since Gabe mentioned the marina.

“What?” Gabe asked as he collected the now empty bowls and walked them into the kitchen, rinsed them out, and set them on the counter. “What else could there possibly be?”

“As far as I know, the pier hasn’t been cleared yet. And even if it was declared safe, The Barbara is still out in the middle of the bay. I’ll admit it, rowing out there tonight is not on my top ten list.”

Gabe stepped back into the living room just as Elton was pushing himself to his feet again.

“It’s been a day, and this old man is going to bed.

There’s the spare room. You can share the bed in there, or one of you can take the couch.

Bicker quietly, please. I, for one, would like a decent night’s sleep. ”

He shuffled off and disappeared down the hallway. First Gabe, then Casey glanced at the couch. The piece of furniture was hardly big enough to earn the name. It wasn’t long enough for Elton to lie on, much less either of them.

“I’ll take the recliner, you can take the bed,” Gabe said, his expression as grim as if he’d offered to throw himself into a pit of hungry lions. “The recliner is—no offense—Elton-shaped and lumpy. I think you might end up in more pain.”

Casey already regretted the time he’d just spent on it; it felt like a violation of Elton’s personal space, and it’d done his aches and pains no favors. However?—

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll take the recliner.” Casey was resigned to not getting much, if any, sleep anyway. He could always drop to the floor once Gabe left the room.

“Seriously, it’s fine. I’ll take it.”

“I said quietly,” Elton called out, his voice muffled by walls and a shut door. “Just share the damn bed, it won’t kill you. Spare blankets are in the hall closet if you need more than what’s there.”

“I don’t know, it might kill one of us,” Gabe muttered darkly.

Common sense fled.

Now Casey wanted to prove to Gabriel and Elton that it really was no big deal if they shared a bed. They were adults. Sharing a bed didn’t mean they’d jump each other’s bones. He shook his head—which, again, hurt—because that was not what he wanted to be thinking about.

Even if that’s exactly what had crossed his mind.

Considering just how long it had been since he’d been remotely intrigued by someone, that someone being Charming Fucker was a head-shaker in and of itself.

It wasn’t being gay in a fucked-up lumberjack-man’s world—although that did play a small part—it was merely the way Casey was built.

It was easier and less difficult to be alone.

Trust did not come easily to him, and attraction was complicated.

Gabriel Karne it was not the one to make it easier.

Another thought intruded; Greta could never know this happened. If she did, he would never be able to convince her that there was nothing going on between them.

Did he want nothing?

Casey threw out, “Elton’s right, it’s no big deal,” and decided not to examine why too closely he went with that.

“Fine,” Gabriel said, throwing his hands up. “Fine, we’ll share. It will be fine, everything will be fine.”

If nothing else, agreeing to share the guest bed was worth Charming’s dramatic response. Casey suppressed a smirk. He wasn’t clueless, he knew that Gabriel Karne was attracted to him.

But was it possible that Charming was also flustered by the push-pull between them?

Huh.