Page 16 of Beyond Her Reach (Bree Taggert #10)

Bree parked in front of Troy’s cabin on Blackbird Lake. “It really is a cabin. I don’t know what I expected, but this isn’t it.”

Matt snorted. “Same. His other house is swanky. This is ... not.”

Usually, when someone with a ton of money owned a cabin, the home turned out to be a mansion made of cedar or logs.

But this was a small, squat house built of actual logs.

A wooden rocking chair sat on the long, covered porch that spanned the front of the building.

Wood chips surrounded a tree stump. Next to it, split logs were stacked waist high.

They walked behind the cabin, where a rear deck overlooked the lake.

A paddleboard was lashed to the back deck.

“How many houses are in the area?” she asked.

Matt pulled out his phone and opened his map app. “Maybe four or five within two square miles.”

“A neighborhood canvass seems ridiculous, but I’m going to send a deputy to those houses and see if anyone saw Troy.”

“The blond woman?” Matt asked.

“Or anyone else. Just because Troy didn’t see anyone doesn’t mean no one else noticed him.” Bree called Juarez and assigned him the task.

Matt went to the window. Cupping his hands over his eyes, he peered inside. “This is basic. There’s a wood fireplace and lots of books. No TV. He really does rough it out here.”

They returned to the front door and used the key to unlock it.

Both donned gloves as they stepped across the threshold.

The cabin was one big, open space, except for a rustic bathroom.

A well-worn recliner sat next to a packed bookshelf.

The kitchen was as basic as basic got: fridge, stove, and an old-fashioned percolator coffee maker.

A king-size bed occupied the far corner.

A single chest of drawers next to it served as both nightstand and dresser.

She lifted the lid of a small clothes hamper. Empty.

Bree slid open a drawer. Black crew socks and boxer briefs.

Jeans, athletic pants, and sweaters filled the rest of the drawers.

The bathroom held a few towels, deodorant, and a single pump dispenser of a combination body wash, shampoo, and conditioner.

A stackable washer and dryer had been stuffed into the back corner.

The lid of the washer stood open. Bree peered inside. Empty.

She left the room. “That’s basic.”

“Same out here.” Matt leaned into the open fridge. “Stocked with condiments. No perishables.”

Bree turned to the short row of kitchen cabinets. She found cleaning supplies under the sink. A small closet held a few jackets and a vacuum cleaner. “This place is spotless.”

“Do you think he cleans it?” Matt asked.

“We’ll have to ask him.” But Bree suspected Troy didn’t want strangers in his retreat space.

Through the window, Bree saw the forensics van park. They watched the techs suit up and enter the cabin.

“This won’t take long,” one said.

“We’ll let you get to work.”

With such a small area, Bree and Matt would only get in the way. If there was any evidence to be found, it would likely be trace or microscopic anyway. The techs split up.

“Ma’am?” one called from the bathroom before Bree made it to the door. She crossed the wood floor and peered into the bath. The tech was under the sink, looking in a small trash can. A few balled-up paper towels lay in the bottom of the can, stained with blotches of dark red.

“Could be where he cleaned up the cut on his forehead,” Matt said.

“Could be,” agreed Bree. “Or this is where he cleaned up after the murder. Make sure you check the washer and dryer and drains for more blood.” Laundering bloody clothes left residue that was very difficult to completely eliminate.

A half hour later, Bree led the way into the Pilates studio owned by Kelly’s BFF, Virginia Hobbs. The machines looked like medieval torture devices. There wasn’t a class in session. A lean woman with a rag and spray bottle looked up as they entered.

Bree introduced herself and Matt. “Thanks for talking with us.”

Virginia’s long, lithe body was showcased in black workout tights and a loose tank.

She was in her midforties and had the body of a person who worked hard to stay in shape.

She sprayed liquid on the machine and wiped it down.

“I don’t have another class until this evening, and I’ll do anything to catch the bastard who killed Kelly. ”

“How long have you been friends?” Matt asked.

“Decades.” She set down the bottle and rag and folded her arms across her chest. “We met when our kids were in kindergarten.”

“Did Kelly express any unusual concerns lately? Was she afraid of anyone?” Bree asked.

Virginia angrily swiped a tear from her cheek. “Just Harrison. He’s been harassing the hell out of her.”

Bree rested a forearm on her duty belt. “What about?”

“He wanted the house sold ASAP. He couldn’t move out of his mother’s place and continue to keep the mortgage current.”

“But the place is in mid-reno,” Matt said.

“Yes, and that’s all Harrison’s fault. After he left, Kelly was forced to do most of the work herself.

He stopped putting money in their joint account and refused to give her any.

She wanted to recoup the maximum profit from the sale.

Unlike Harrison, she didn’t have other income.

He wanted money now. She needed the sale price of the house to be as high as possible. ”

“She never worked outside the home?” Bree asked.

Virginia’s nostrils flared. “No. Harrison liked her as a stay-at-home mom. She liked being at home too, but the reality of the situation is that after she devoted their whole marriage to caring for him, their children, and their home, he dumped her for a younger version as soon as she wasn’t young anymore.

Such a cliché. She thought he would always look after her.

I kept my mouth shut because it was none of my business.

But I never liked the way he treated her. ”

“Why not?”

“Because he was very controlling. The whole time they were married, she had to account for every nickel she spent. I don’t mean asking if they could afford a major expenditure like a car or a vacation, I mean she had to submit an itemized accounting each month, complete with receipts, for every purchase from milk to prescription copays. ”

“Was she a big spender?” Bree asked.

“Hell no!” Virginia’s eyes brightened. “She was the most frugal person I’ve ever met. If couponing was an Olympic sport, Kelly would have won the gold medal.”

“You said she was doing the renovation work herself?” Matt clarified. “Did she have the skills for that?”

“Yes.” Virginia nodded emphatically. “Kelly’s dad was a contractor.

She hired people when she had to for specialty work like tile and granite or anything that required a license—like electrical.

But she could do basic carpentry and plumbing herself.

Harrison doesn’t know a saw from a screwdriver.

” She punctuated her anger with a forefinger stab in the air.

“She didn’t have a paying job outside the home, but Kelly always worked her ass off. ”

“Are her parents still alive?” Matt asked.

“No, her dad had a heart attack a few years ago, and her mom passed within six months of his death.” Virginia looked sad. “It was hard on Kelly. Plus, if her dad was still alive, he would have helped her. She wouldn’t have been so desperate for cash.”

Money was a definite motive, thought Bree. “Harrison mentioned her strict diet. He said she wasn’t fun anymore.”

“Ass,” Virginia muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Kelly knew her marriage was falling apart. Harrison was working late too much and acting disinterested in her. He would make remarks about her ‘letting herself go.’ She was scared. She didn’t have the means to support herself.

She was convinced he was cheating and going to dump her.

Around the same time, she was depressed and drinking too much.

At her annual physical, her doctor told her she was headed for a major health issue.

Her cholesterol, blood pressure, and sugar were all too high.

So, Kelly—being a woman of action—decided to do something about that.

She came to me for help.” Virginia gestured around her studio.

“She started taking Pilates classes. I helped her come up with an eating plan. She quit drinking completely. The weight began to come off, but more importantly, she started to feel better. Her next round of bloodwork showed improvement. She got a new haircut. She started getting dressed in real clothes every day. She looked amazing. It wasn’t the physical changes as much as the confidence.

You’d think Harrison would be happy, right? His wife was healthier and happier.”

“Right,” Bree said.

“I’m guessing he wasn’t,” Matt added.