Deadly Fate (Krewe of Hunters #19)(76)

That meant the window.

Thor cursed himself for not reiterating over and over again that the windows should be kept locked at all times. Then again, if Becca had created the setup—which seemed most logical and plausible—she had opened the window herself to escape.

The window was not locked.

A forensic team would now have to come into the room and try to figure out whether Becca had been in the room alone or not. He couldn’t take the time to try to discover what had gone on, nor did he have their technology or training.

He needed to get out on the island. He needed to find Becca Marle...

Dead or alive.

Moving back into the living room, he saw that Jackson was just returning.

“One man stands guard in front, one does rounds,” Jackson said. “Neither of them saw anyone come or go after Mike entered the house last night. The rounds are every twenty minutes. Either someone was in and knew how to keep watch of the rounds, or Becca...” He paused, looking at Nate and Tommy. “Or Becca knew when to create the scene and leave the house.”

Tommy and Nate began their protest anew. Clara, sitting pale and quiet for the most part, spoke up to try to reassure them.

“I’ll sue her. I’ll sue the little bitch!” Marc Kimball said.

Justin and Magda Crowley stood there, watching and listening.

“Are we supposed to be cleaning that up?” Magda asked.

“No!” Thor assured her.

“Becca, Becca, Becca,” Tommy murmured.

“Tommy, I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she was just...just really angry with one of us...someone,” Clara said.

“Let’s pray she did this herself and that she’s on the island somewhere,” Thor said. “If not...”

“Oh, my God! If not...he silenced her somehow. And maybe he made her watch as he set up that tableau, what he eventually intended to do with her...” Nate murmured.

Thor turned to Jackson and Mike; for the moment, he even had to ignore Clara. He made a motion indicating they needed to talk.

“Stay here—no one move a muscle, and Mr. Kimball, that damned well means you, too,” Thor said. He strode through the living room to the office space they’d been using.

“I’ve seen to it that Brennan and Enfield have been informed,” Jackson said.

“The island is already swarming with forensic teams and police,” Thor said, feeling the grate of his teeth as he spoke. He winced, knowing that they had to be dispassionate to a point, cold and logical. “You’d think it would be impossible for a woman who really doesn’t know the island all that well to disappear. And,” he added, “if the killer did come through the window and do all that, it should have been impossible for him to escape the house with a captive!”

“What if it was someone in the house?” Jackson asked. “Thing is, you were out there for a few hours, Thor. Then I was, and then Mike was. And a cop was out there. No one came down the hallways, but what the hell? Someone could have gone out a window—just as someone went out a window from Becca’s room.”

Thor cursed softly. “We have to get out there now. Has to be Mike and me—Jackson, you just don’t know this place like we do.”

“Agreed,” Jackson said. “There are no tracks. There were some fresh powder flakes this morning, covered everything up. Go figure. Snow, in summer.”

“Late summer, almost fall. And it’s the elevation of the landscape and...” He let it go, still swearing to himself. “It is what it is. Either Becca Marle is out there on her own, or she’s been taken. If she is on her own, Mike, we ought to be able to find her.”

“I’ll watch here,” Jackson told Thor. Thor nodded to his friend and ex-partner. He knew that Jackson would watch over Clara.

“It had to have been Becca who did it herself,” Thor said. “If it was the killer...”

“One of the killers,” Jackson interjected.

Thor nodded. “He had time—he had her silenced. Why not kill her?”

“Unless Becca did it herself. She was angry—really angry—at Kimball at dinner last night.”

Thor nodded. “We’d better move. It’s amazing how quickly someone can disappear when they’ve chosen to do so.”

*

Once again, Thor and Mike were gone.

Clara had watched them for a while; they were out front with members of the police who had arrived. Thor was tense as he pointed out different aspects of the landscape, assigning men to areas of search, she assumed.

Then he was gone.

And she was left with Jackson Crow, Marc Kimball, the cheerful duo of Magda and Justin Crowley, Emmy Vincenzo, Tommy Marchant and Nate Mahoney.

To Clara’s surprise, it was Emmy who spoke first. She cleared her throat. “Um, may I fix myself something for breakfast?” she asked.

“There is coffee already,” the police officer offered.

“No one mucks around in my kitchen,” Magda Crowley said. “No one but me.”

“I think breakfast would be good,” Jackson said.

“Am I allowed to be in the kitchen alone, with Justin?” Magda asked.

“This is still my property!” Marc Kimball said angrily. “And if I say that you may work in the kitchen, you may do so.”