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He gave a few of the officers a nod on his way down the hallway and then headed into his office, shutting the door behind him. After placing his coffee down, he pulled up Adam’s car accident report on his computer. Finding the name and phone number he needed, he grabbed his phone off the desk and dialed the number reported on the document.
It rang twice. “Seattle Police Department, how may I direct your call?” a woman answered.
“This is Detective Boone Knight from Stoney Creek PD, could you pass me along to Detective Karl Armstrong.”
“Yes, I’ll transfer you. Please hold.”
Elevator music came on followed by two more rings before a low, gravelly voice said, “Detective Armstrong.”
“Good morning, this is Detective Boone Knight calling from the Stoney Creek PD.”
“Hey,” Armstrong said. “What can I do for you?”
“We’re working a homicide here in Stoney Creek, and I believe it might relate to a car accident that you worked a year back.”
“Give me the name.”
“Adam Kerr.”
Through the phone line, Boone could hear Armstrong typing on his keyboard. “Ah, I remember this one,” he eventually said. “Nasty accident.” A pause. “How does this accident connect to a homicide out there with you?”
“That’s actually why I’m calling you,” Boone explained. “When you investigated Kerr’s accident, did you have any suspicions of foul play?”
“On my end, none,” Armstrong confirmed. “The skid marks suggested that Kerr drove too fast and lost control, slamming into a tree.”
Maybe he’d been driving too fast for a reason. Boone kept the thought to himself, getting the facts he needed. “Was there an independent investigator brought in?”
“Yeah. Harold Malty did this one, I believe.”
Boone considered his next steps. Over the years, he’d become less trusting, he knew that. But when it came to Peyton, he wouldn’t overlook a damn thing. And he didn’t trust anyone’s eyes besides Rhett’s, Asher’s, his father’s, and his own. “Would it be possible to see the case file myself? I can send a formal request from our chief of police here in Stoney Creek, if that works.” He had no doubt his father would agree.
“Sure,” Armstrong said. “Once you send that request, I’ll scan the file over. What’s your email address there?”
Boone rambled off the address, then said, “I appreciate this. Thank you.”
“If you find anything that relates to your case, let us know if we need to reopen the case on our end,” Armstrong said.
“Yeah, I’ll be in touch with our findings.” Boone ended the call, staring at the initial police report. High-speed crash. Wondering at that, he pulled up more on Adam Kerr. His driver’s license photograph popped up on the screen. Dark haired, dark eyed; Adam looked sophisticated and educated.
Boone looked at the other information about Adam Kerr. No arrests. Not even a speeding ticket. Not the type of guy who’d speed to the point where he lost control. He drove an Audi, but a sedan, nothing sporty or flashy that indicated he liked speed.
Boone clicked the mouse, returning to Adam’s photograph. Boone wasn’t religious, and he never believed in all the ghost shit Remy did, but an odd flush settled over him. He thought of Adam’s warning in Peyton’s dream. “She’s safe with me,” he declared, staring at Adam’s photo. “You’ve got my word on that.”
Chapter 13
Late in the afternoon, after spending the day lazing around in the sun and swimming in the lake, Peyton inhaled the fresh air, catching the scents of freshly cut grass. The reason she bought this property definitely wasn’t for the work-in-progress house; it was for the freshwater view, and the cove the lake house rested on. “You know,” she said to Kinsley, “after the past couple days, this is exactly what I needed.” She lifted her wineglass to her lips and finished off the final sip of red wine, tasting the hints of cherry, not feeling so bad about keeping the shop closed.
“No kidding,” Kinsley said with her head tipped back, basking in the final few rays of the sun before it set. “We need to come and do this more often.” She jumped up, wearing her red bikini, grabbing Peyton’s wineglass, as well as her own. “I’ll go top us off.”
“Thanks.” Peyton sighed, leaning back on her arms, her legs stretched out in front of her, as Kinsley hurried off.
God, she loved it out here. She’d always been a city girl, but there was something to be said about nature. Now having lived there, she wasn’t sure she could ever go back to living in a condominium, where people were all around her. The closest neighbor was a half mile down the lake, and the quiet…yeah, she needed that quiet. Especially now.
Minutes clicked by, and Peyton glanced back at the house. Kinsley should’ve been back by now. Curious about the holdup, Peyton jumped to her feet and headed for the house, her toes squishing in the soft grass. She went through the back door that led to the kitchen, and the moment she made it inside, she froze. The sight on the floor was a mirror image to something she’d seen before, and her mind returned to the day in her store she’d tried very hard to forget.
The hot morning sun beamed down on Peyton as she slid the key into the lock and opened the door, as Kinsley said behind her, “You seriously should just date my brother.”
Peyton sighed and strode into her shop, sending the chime above the door ringing. “I’ll say it again: Where I come from, he’s your brother, and we’re friends, and that makes him off-limits.”
