Page 59 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

“So, what does that mean, Sloan?” Molly asked, chewing on her thumbnail, something Brec noticed when she watched scary movies. His ribcage suddenly constricted. Only this wasn’t just a scary movie, he realized. This was the reality of two people he loved.

Loved? The very thought stuttered his pulse as he looked up at Molly, his breathing shallowing considerably. Yes, he loved his aunt deeply and always had, but never more so than over the last three months he’d been home. But Molly?

His stomach instantly rolled at the thought of anything happening to her, and when his heart began to thud slow and sure, he knew he was in trouble. A warm flurry of feelings suddenly bombarded both his brain and his body unlike anything he’d ever known, even with Lana, telling him loud and clear that if he wasn’t in love, he was well on his way.

“It means that given the evidence, Molly,” Sloan continued, “we suspect at least two persons were involved in the murder of Greg Schulte, using their own belts and his to perpetrate the crime. We think they wrapped his body in something, then tied and weighted it before throwing it into your cove.”

“Had to be kids,” Brec muttered while he stared aimlessly at the table, stomach lurching that his own father might be an actual murderer after all, “because nobody else would be stupid enough to leave personal belongings at the scene of a crime.”

“Exactly.” Sloan picked the bag with the piece of eight up to stare at it, his face somber before he slipped it back into the plastic bag. “Kids who were pretty rattled over a murder they never meant to commit maybe, then desperate to hide it and messing up in the process.” He turned back to Aunt Lilly, his tone threaded with sympathy. “Few other kids had access to Lake Loon, ma’am, which is why my primary suspects have to be the Lads.” With a grim look, he bobbled the bag in his hand. “And I believe this piece right here could take us to the killer.”

“Which is why Miss Lilly’s house has been broken into twice,” Molly whispered.

Sloan gave a slow nod. “And possibly why Roy Lambert was murdered and his house set on fire. Maybe he was going to squeal for some reason because the guilt was eating him raw, and the others couldn’t allow that to happen.”

“So five suspects,” Brec said quietly, his throat suddenly dry, “including my own father.”

“Looks that way for now, Brec.” Sloan’s face was somber, as if he were genuinely sorry, which from the little Brec knew, was probably true no matter how much he wanted to dislike the guy for his interest in Molly.

Someone knocked, and Sloan rose to answer it, taking some papers from a female officer. “Thanks, Rosie,” he said with a sober smile, closing the door again before he distributed one of the papers to each of them. “I know it’s a long shot on two of the photos of belts on this sheet since they’re somewhat decomposed and the buckles are pretty nondescript. But the belt with the coin is the one we’re going for anyway since it’s the most distinct, not only because of the piece of eight, but because it’s a higher quality leather with a unique pattern that’s more intact.”

Expelling a weighty sigh, he stood with head bowed and hands perched on the hips of his olive-drab slacks, peering up beneath shuttered lids to address each of them. “I’d like to enlist your help in tracking down photos of any of these belts that might be in frames or tucked away in a drawer or closet, or even sealed boxes in storage that might contain photos.”

He paused to zero in on Brec. “I’m also hoping you have access to pictures your father may have had stored away as well, Brec. I plan to conduct a search for the same with the other Lads also, along with intensive interviews with them and every resident on the lake, so your help would be appreciated if it’s not too much trouble.”

Brec buried a grunt. And what if it is?

Brec’s gaze connected with Molly’s, and the sympathy in her eyes gave him the strength to agree whether he wanted to or not. Giving Sloan an abrupt nod, he immediately looked away, not thrilled about the notion of returning to his father’s house now occupied by renters. Even if boxes of photographs from his and his parents’ past were locked away in the attic.

A nerve pulsed in his cheek.

And especially because he knew they were.

“Thank you.” Retrieving the evidence bag with the coin from the table, Sloan offered Miss Lilly a gentle smile. “I’ll need this as evidence, ma’am, but we’ll keep it safe in the vault, I promise. Then you all should head on home because it’s been a pretty long day already. I’ll be in touch, and I ask you to do the same if you come across anything you think I need to know.”

“Will do, Detective, and thank you for all of your hard work on this.” His aunt lumbered up while Molly assisted, and Brec could see that the morning had already taken its toll on them both, their faces taut and etched with worry.

Opening the door, Sloan stood there waiting while Brec gathered up all four albums to follow his aunt and Molly out the door. His heart stalled when Sloan gave Molly’s shoulder a gentle touch. “I’ll give you a call,” he said quietly, and Brec’s mouth jabbed into a scowl.

A call.

Yeah, right.

And Brec would bet his last dollar …

It had absolutely nothing to do with the case.