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Kennedy said, “I’m not arguing with you.”
“But you disapprove.”
To his surprise—maybe to both their surprise—Kennedy gave a funny laugh. “Yes. I disapprove. But maybe what I really…”
Kennedy didn’t finish the thought, but Jason’s heart leaped at that rueful half-admission.
They reached the lodge. Jason unlocked the door, and they went inside.
Jason headed straight for the bedroom and quickly stripped the bed.
“It didn’t take you long to get friendly with Shipka,” Kennedy said from the doorway.
Jason shot back, “It didn’t take me long to get friendly with you.”
Kennedy nodded as though conceding a point, but Jason already regretted the comment. His relationship with Kennedy had been completely different from his relationship with Shipka. Although maybe not from Kennedy’s standpoint.
“I was tired and depressed. Half a bottle of wine helped.” He shrugged. “Or didn’t help.”
“You don’t have to explain your choices to me.”
“No. I don’t.” Jason bundled up the sheets with the towels from the bathroom and carried them through to the small laundry area. He stuffed them in the machine, added soap, and turned the machine on.
When he went into the kitchen, he found Kennedy searching the utensil drawers.
His heart stopped. “What are you doing?”
Kennedy didn’t bother to glance up. “Making sure the murder weapon wasn’t planted in here while you were gone.”
Jason’s lips parted, but it took him a few seconds to come up with anything to say. “The doors and windows were locked.”
“Yep.” Kennedy shut the drawer and moved to the next one. “But this is a rental property, and over the years, hundreds of people have had the opportunity to make duplicate keys.”
After a stunned moment, Jason began to search the cabinets on the other side of the kitchen. “Then you do believe I was locked up in that mausoleum so I wouldn’t have an alibi for Shipka’s murder?”
The first cabinet contained empty tins, nothing more.
“Maybe. Maybe to keep you from interfering. Maybe locking you up was an impulse, and the decision to kill Shipka grew out of that opportunity.”
Decision sounded too rational for the mayhem that had been inflicted on Shipka.
“Whoever killed Shipka would have been covered in blood. There would be forensic evidence all over this place,” Jason pointed out.
“You want to take that chance?”
“No.”
They continued to search in silence.
When they’d finished with the kitchen, Kennedy said, “Detective O’Neill is smart enough to realize the thermostat at the cottage was cranked up to help confuse time of death. That works both for and against you. He believes an FBI agent is more likely to think of that than the average person.”
“What do you believe?”
“I believe people love watching those CSI shows.” Kennedy added, “I’m going to take the living room. You take the bedroom and bath.”
“Right.”
They searched the lodge top to bottom, from the sleeping porch to the fireplace chimney. No weapon was hidden on the premises.
