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Chapter20
Parker
The way he stacked wood and got the stove pumping was really hot. It had to be the forearms. Paz’s were muscular and thick, with a dusting of dark hair.
He could pretend to be Mr. Businessman all he wanted, but in moments like this, the real him shone through. The broody lumberjack who felt like he didn’t belong.
The man stuck somewhere between two worlds, unable to be who he wanted to be in either. I had been trying to play it cool and find my way back to business as usual after our kiss last night.
But I couldn’t stop replaying it in my mind. The softness of his touch, the heat of his body, the spark that ignited when our lips touched. And not just that, but the intensity of the moment as I sat beside him while he played the piano with those stupid strong forearms and stupid big hands.
And now, because the universe hated me, I’d likely be trapped here with him for at least twenty-four hours. And while this house was enormous, there was no escaping him.
I was doing everything I could to be on my best behavior. Hell, I was wearing a bra in the house. But I couldn’t stop the desire to be near him, to tease him, to force a reaction from him.
Sitting on the large couch with my feet up on the coffee table, I went through my notes from this weekend. I had finally concluded my initial fact finding and was building connections and flagging issues for follow-up.
Work. That was the best path forward. If I couldn’t leave this house, I’d at least be productive.
“I’m working through the org chart,” I said, flipping through the files on my laptop. “Can we talk about Richard?”
Standing before the roaring fire, he dusted his hands off and turned to me. “What do you want to know? He’s my godfather, and he was my dad’s best friend. He’s been at Gagnon since he was in high school.”
I looked up from my laptop as he padded over. “Haven’t been able to meet him yet. Just want to make sure I know everyone who works at camp.”
What I wasn’t saying was that Richard was a big question mark. He was practically a ghost on the internet. Sixty years old, owned a modest home outside of town, bachelor with no kids. On the surface, he appeared hard working and boring. But that’s what made my spidey senses tingle. He was the most senior Gagnon employee who was not a member of the family, and he’d been in the inner circle for decades.
“He’s our COO. Couldn’t run the business without him. No one is respected more in this business than Richard.” His voice was laced with defensiveness. That was the exact reason I’d kept my thoughts to myself. He clearly cared about the man.
But I needed more information to make my own judgment. What I did know was that he was not especially pleasant and that he never socialized with his colleagues. Not that being introverted made a person a criminal. But without a weekly bowling league, golf trips, or even classic car shows to track and verify him, my brain tended to spin out various theories.
“It looks like he was on vacation the day of your dad’s accident.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t working here at the time, but Henri was. I’m pretty sure he was in Florida. His sister lives there. He’s always taken care of her and her son, Norman. She had an abusive husband, and Richard stepped up big-time. Helped her get away from him and got her set up on her own. She got sick a few years ago, and he took a couple of months off to take care of her.”
That made sense with what I’d found so far. There were a couple of PTO requests from around that time. It looked like he’d taken six or seven weeks total.
Based on the company records, the truck Frank Gagnon was driving had been used for the preceding three days without incident and had been inspected the day before by a mechanic who recorded every detail down to the tire pressure.
“Have you met his nephew?”
He scratched his head. “Norman? Yeah. A couple of times. Think he had some issues. Maybe some petty criminal stuff when he was a kid. Richard straightened him out, got him a job with us. He worked a few seasons, on and off. Wasn’t interested in getting certifications for the big machinery, so he never moved up beyond seasonal labor gigs.”
I toggled between documents on my computer, adding these additional details to the profile I was building of Richard.
“What happened to him?”
“Not sure. Maybe he moved to Florida too? You can ask Ellen. She probably got his forwarding address so she could send out his final paycheck.”
I nodded, letting things spin in my mind. The employment records I had found had long lists of seasonal laborers for each year. Logging seemed to attract transients and folks who didn’t stick around for more than a season. But I’d find Norman and see what I could piece together about him as well.
Because there was no way drug trafficking had become so rampant on those roads without the involvement of someone who worked the forest. Gagnon Lumber kept excellent records. I owed Ellen flowers after she had walked me through the annotation protocols. But despite the attention to detail used when creating them all, quite a bit of information was missing or incomplete.
But I could count on Paz to fill in any blanks he could. He had answered every question and connected me with every potential lead.
The tension between us had finally begun to ease. Eventually, maybe we could get to a place where it felt like that world-altering kiss hadn’t happened. Maybe he’d be a helpful roommate who’d happened to hire me to solve his father’s murder.
But for now, memories of the kiss still lingered. Especially when he leaned in close to look at my screen, bringing with him a whiff of smoke and pine trees that almost made me need a change of panties. But we could do this. Recover from that incident and move on.
