The Christmas Rescue (7 page)

“Sounds reasonable,” Ellen admitted.

“Thanks, Rafe,” Kayla murmured.

Brianna skipped into the room. “Hi, Mommy. Hi,
Grandma. Hi, Mr. Rafe. I'm hungry,” she announced, climbing up to sit at the table. Kayla took a seat next to her daughter.

Ellen sat across from them, and there was an awkward moment as they all glanced at Rafe, unwilling to begin eating until he'd finished his before-meal prayer.

“I'll say grace,” he murmured, bowing his head. “Heavenly Father, thank You for the food You have provided here for us this morning. We are blessed to have You watching over us. Please keep us safe as we begin our day. Amen.”

There was a silent pause, until Brianna said, “Amen.”

Kayla glanced at her daughter in surprise. They hadn't prayed much when Jeremy was alive. A prayer before bedtime at the most.

She watched as Rafe helped himself to a peach pastry. When he caught her gaze, he smiled. Her stomach clenched, and she went hot all over, feeling the effects of his smile all the way down to her knees. Flustered, she turned her attention to her daughter, although what Brianna chatted about, she had no idea.

Her attention was still riveted on Rafe.

He was strong and gentle, handsome and yet so very spiritual. She'd never met a man like Rafe before.

Keeping her distance from him while he was a guest in her home was proving to be more difficult than she'd ever imagined.

 

Rafe was thrilled with how easily Brianna had participated in his prayer. This must be the path God had chosen for him. He would absolutely help Kayla find her way to the Lord. Despite his lack of sleep, his mood
was upbeat as he drove Kayla back to the police station in Green Bay, twenty miles north of Pelican Point.

Now that it was just the two of them in the car, he was at a loss for words. He couldn't seem to find the friendly atmosphere they'd shared before.

Because she was more than just a friend?

“There really isn't any danger, is there?” she asked, suddenly breaking the silence.

His chest tightened at the fear laced in her tone. “I probably overreacted back there,” he admitted. “Greg Landrum had already been a guest in your home. He didn't use the opportunity to hurt you or Brianna. I just can't completely relax until we find the guy.”

“And you really think the police sketch will help?”

“I do.” He'd already planned to approach Charlie Turkow again, flashing the picture and watching the older man's reaction. “We can alert all the coast guard cutters to be on the lookout for him.”

“What if he's not out on the water?” she asked, perplexed.

He couldn't believe the guy wasn't involved in his case. “I think he has to be linked to the criminal smuggling ring and to Schroeder's death.”

She paled. “What if he killed Bill?”

“It's possible.” And that was the main reason he'd overreacted. “But Landrum, or whatever this guy's real name is, isn't the only one involved. Someone is helping him. That's why I really need you to do this sketch.”

“I understand.” Kayla didn't ask anything more and when they arrived at the police station, she went right to work, taking her role in creating a viable sketch seriously.

Rafe didn't watch the artist work, preferring to wait for the finished product, but he sat back, observing
how Kayla interacted with the police artist, Christine Andrews.

“No, his face is a little more round,” Kayla said, her forehead scrunched with concentration. “And his eyes were closer together. Beady. Yes, like that.”

“What about his chin?” Christine asked. “Pointy? Round? Cleft?”

“Weak.” Kayla shrugged helplessly when Christine raised her brows. “I don't know how else to describe it. He had a weak chin. Rounded I guess, but not very prominent.”

Christine's pencil scratched against the paper as she drew and then erased and drew some more. He couldn't tear his gaze from Kayla. She was so beautiful, not like a model or movie-star, but in a girl-next-door kind of way.

What if he'd met Kayla before Angela? Would he have still married Angela?

Stupid question. Immediately he felt ashamed for even thinking such a thing. Of course he would have. He'd loved Angela. Had loved his wife with his whole heart and soul. Had wanted to die when he'd lost both his wife and baby.

A boy. The son he'd never have.

No, as much as he admired Kayla and adored Brianna, they couldn't take Angela's and his son's place in his heart. Never. He and Kayla were just friends.

Friends.

Nothing more.

“No, there's something wrong,” Kayla fretted. “It's not right. Something's wrong.”

Christine never lost her patience. “Okay, let's rule out what could be wrong. The forehead? The nose? His eyes?”

“No, his eyes are right.” Kayla stared hard at the sketch. “Maybe it's his cheeks. They were more prominent. Gaunt maybe, in spite of his round face. I kept thinking he needed to eat more.”

“Okay, how about this?” Christine took her eraser to a portion of the picture and then tried again. After a few minutes she turned the sketch toward Kayla.

“Yes.” Kayla's tone held satisfaction. “That's him. That's the man who rented a room from me.”

“Let me see,” Rafe commanded, leaning forward urgently. Christine obliged by turning the sketch, but his heart sank with sharp disappointment when he studied the man's face.

He didn't recognize the guy.

“D
o you know him?” Kayla asked.

“No, I'm afraid not.” Rafe had hoped that the sketch would jog his memory. That he'd instantly remember the guy meeting at the lakefront with Bill Schroeder in the months they'd watched him.

No such luck.

Truth be told, the guy didn't look very threatening. Kayla described him as gaunt and Rafe had to agree. And aside from his beady eyes, the man in the sketch could be your average John Doe. There was nothing at all that indicated the guy was dangerous. He frowned and gave himself a mental shake. Physical appearances meant nothing. There was still a strong possibility this guy had murdered Bill Schroeder.

“You did a great job, Kayla,” he said, reassuring her when he noticed her expression appeared anxious. “The sketch is perfect.”

She relaxed, giving him a small smile. “I'm glad I could help.”

“You helped a lot.” Rafe rose to his feet and took the sketch from Christine's outstretched hand. “Thanks, Christine. I appreciate your assistance with this.”

“Anytime,” she said, lifting her shoulder in a graceful shrug. “Take care, Rafe.”

“Will do.” Taking Kayla's arm, he escorted her from the police station.

“So now what?” she asked, as they climbed back into his jeep.

He glanced at the clock on his dashboard, a little surprised to realize Kayla had completed her sketch in less than an hour. With any luck, Ellen and Brianna wouldn't be shopped out for a while yet. “Do you mind if we stop at the coast guard substation? I'd like to get this picture in the hands of the rest of the men as soon as possible.”

“No, of course I don't mind.” Kayla relaxed against the seat cushion. “I'm glad that's over, although it wasn't as bad as I expected.”

He chuckled. “I don't know, for a while there you were getting frustrated.”

“True.” She laughed and the sound wrapped itself around his heart. He tried to ignore the sensation. He was here to protect Kayla and Brianna from harm, and to help her find the path to the Lord. Nothing else.

So why did his thoughts keep heading down a dangerous, more personal path? He turned up the Christmas music on the radio in an attempt to drown out his thoughts.

Unfortunately, the Christmas music only made him think about Angela. And their unborn son. And how his lack of planning had failed them both. He scowled, tempted to change the station, but suspected that seeing as there was only a week until Christmas, it was likely the other stations were also playing Christmas tunes.

Several long minutes passed before Kayla spoke
again. “You really think it's possible this man killed Bill Schroeder?” she asked, staring at the sketch.

“Yeah. I do.” Keep focused on business, he reminded himself. Distractions would only put Kayla in harm's way. “If not him personally, then someone he works for. Either way, he's the best lead we have at the moment.”

“Poor Bill,” Kayla murmured. “I should really give Jeanine a call. I know she divorced Bill, but this still must be a horrible shock.”

“They didn't have any children?” he asked, even though he knew from his research they didn't have any, he was curious about the guy. Often the motivations behind the crimes were the toughest to figure out.

“They tried, but apparently it wasn't meant to be. Jeanine wanted to adopt, but Bill refused. I think in the end their marriage suffered because of it.”

It was a little odd to be thinking of their main suspect as a man who'd tried to have a family. So why had Bill Schroeder become involved in the criminal smuggling ring? Money? Greed? For thrills? What?

At this point, they might never figure out what his real motives were. And truth be told, he was more interested in shutting the operation down than understanding the why behind the crime.

He pulled into the parking lot of the coast guard substation a few minutes later. Taking the sketch from Kayla's hands, he led the way inside. He headed straight to Luke Sanders' office. His commanding officer saw them coming and rose to meet them halfway.

Rafe raised his hand in a sharp salute. “Sir. This is Mrs. Kayla Wilson, owner of Kayla's bed-and-breakfast. Kayla, this is my lieutenant commander, Luke Sanders.”

Luke returned Rafe's salute and then accepted Kayla's outstretched hand. “Pleasure to meet you, ma'am.”

“Likewise,” she murmured shyly.

“Here's a sketch of our suspect,” Rafe said, getting straight to the point. He handed the sketch to Luke. “He rented a room at Kayla's B and B under the name of Gregory Landrum, giving a Chicago address. But the real Gregory Landrum from Chicago is at least ten to fifteen years older and heavier by almost a hundred pounds.”

“Why would he rent a room under an assumed name?” Luke asked.

“As a cover to search through her husband's business records,” Rafe explained. “Mrs. Wilson stored everything from the charter fishing operation in the attic and we discovered someone has been up there, going through them. Everything had been pulled out of the boxes and tossed on the floor. From what we could determine, all the photographs are missing. We believe this man is the one who keeps trying to break in.”

His commanding officer's glance cut over to Kayla, as if gauging how much she knew about her husband's business dealings. “The stolen photographs aren't enough?”

“Apparently not, sir. We think it's possible something is still hidden in her home. Or someone thinks there's something still hidden in her home. Either way, we need more time to complete a thorough search.”

“Hmm.” Luke stared at the sketch for a long moment before meeting Rafe's waiting gaze. “All right, I'll give you the time you need. Keep me informed of your progress.”

“Yes, sir.” Rafe hesitated, and then asked, “Have you
heard from my partner? Last I knew Evan was following Yancy's yacht.”

“Yes, Evan checked in this morning,” Luke affirmed. “Said Yancy has his yacht moored near Harbor Springs, Michigan. No movement toward shore yet and no evidence of another passenger. Evan is going to stay on him to see what happens.”

Perturbed at the news, Rafe simply nodded. How would Evan know if there was a passenger seeking to escape into Canada when he was way out in the middle of the lake when Yancy took off from shore? If Evan had waited on shore, then he might have gotten a glimpse of a passenger climbing on board.

He debated giving Luke his opinion, but then decided against it. No point in bringing his commanding officer into the personal issue going on between him and his partner. Evan was his junior partner since Rafe had many more years of service under his belt, but Evan obviously had issues with taking leadership advice from Rafe.

And if Karl Yancy did have a criminal passenger on board, Evan would eventually get a glimpse of the guy once they arrived at their final destination. Surely Evan wouldn't mess this up, would he?

“I'd like to make a copy of the sketch,” Rafe said, turning back to the issue at hand. “Before you send it out to the rest of the crew.”

“Sure.”

Rafe made a quick copy and then handed it back. “Anything else, sir?”

“No, that's all for now.” Luke nodded toward Kayla. “Nice meeting you, Mrs. Wilson. Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

Kayla was unusually quiet on the ride back to her bed-and-breakfast. He glanced at her several times, but she continued to stare out the passenger side window, as if lost in her thoughts.

“Are you all right?” he asked finally, when the silence had stretched beyond his patience.

She looked at him, her expression troubled. “I was thinking about Jeremy.”

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. For some reason, the way Kayla clung to her dead husband got under his skin. “What about him?”

“You said you were only watching Bill Schroeder for the past few months, right?”

“Yes,” he said slowly, as the direction of the conversation made him feel as he was treading on thin ice.

“And there's no reason to believe Jeremy was involved in the criminal smuggling?” This was a question more than a statement of fact.

“That's true.” Of course they didn't have any reason to believe Jeremy wasn't involved in the criminal activity, either, but he didn't go there.

“So I shouldn't be worried that Jeremy's death could be the result of something more sinister?” Kayla said finally. “Like murder? The way Bill was murdered?”

 

Kayla held her breath, waiting for Rafe's response. She didn't know why the thought hadn't occurred to her before now. But for some reason, standing in the middle of the coast guard home port substation and meeting Lieutenant Commander Luke Sanders had made Rafe's investigation more real.

More official.

What if Jeremy had stumbled upon the truth? And had died because of it?

“I don't know, Kayla,” he said finally. “I wish I could tell you for sure one way or the other, but the honest answer is that I simply don't know.”

She couldn't seem to leave it alone. “But the circumstances around Jeremy's death would have been investigated, right? And I'm sure they would have told me if there was some question about how he died.”

“Yes, I'm sure they would have,” Rafe agreed. “I was part of the team who found his boat and I can tell you, we didn't find anything suspicious. Accidents like drowning are required to be reviewed by the ME.”

“You investigated his death?” she echoed in surprise.

He glanced at her, his expression serious. “I was part of the team that searched for him, yes. As I would anyone lost in the water.”

She didn't know why she was surprised to hear he'd searched for Jeremy, but she was. Two years ago she hadn't even known Rafe. Now she knew their paths had crossed, even then. She went back to the subject that wouldn't leave her alone. “Do you know for certain how long the criminal smuggling ring has been going on?”

“At least a year, as far as we can tell, maybe longer,” Rafe conceded. “But again, there's no way to know exactly when Bill Schroeder became involved. It could have easily been after your husband's death.” He glanced at her, compassion warming his gaze. “Don't torture yourself about this, Kayla. You're right. If the ME had thought the circumstances of your husband's death were suspicious, there would have been a more in-depth investigation. Don't borrow trouble. Let's just concentrate on moving forward from here, okay?”

Rafe was right, she knew he was, but it wasn't easy to let go of the nagging thoughts. Dealing with Jeremy's
death had been difficult enough, but she couldn't comprehend how she'd feel if she discovered he was murdered. She forced a smile. “I'll try.”

“Good. When we get back to your B and B, we need to broaden our search.”

“Broaden the search where?” Kayla couldn't imagine what else there was to look through. “Everything of Jeremy's is in the attic.”

“Kayla, I need you to think about this carefully. Is there any possibility Bill Schroeder could have hid something without you knowing about it?” he asked. “Any way at all?”

Hid something? In her house? She stared at Rafe, casting her memory back to the day Bill had surprised her by stopping over when she hadn't heard from him in over a year. He'd seemed ill at ease, holding the door open as if unsure of whether or not to come in. He'd finally come in, but before the door closed, Clyde caught sight of a squirrel and took off into the woods. She told Bill to have a seat moments before she and Brianna had immediately gone after the dog. Just a couple of months earlier, they'd let Clyde run loose in the woods and he'd suffered a close encounter with a skunk. The horrible stench still burned in her memory and she'd never wanted to risk that mess again. Hence their frantic search for Clyde.

Thinking back, she didn't think she'd been gone very long but maybe it was just enough time. “Yes, it's possible,” she finally admitted.

“Really?” Rafe's intense gaze pierced her.

“The day he came over, the dog got loose. Brianna and I went after Clyde while he waited inside.”

“Long enough for him to hide something?” Rafe persisted.

“Yes, about ten to fifteen minutes.” She shivered despite the mild temperatures outside. Why would Bill purposefully drag her into this mess? Because he'd been desperate? Or had he believed whatever secret he'd left would be safe with her?

“I'm sorry, Kayla,” Rafe said in a low tone, reaching over to take her hand in his. His hand was strong and warm, and for the life of her she couldn't convince herself to let go.

She tried to smile. “It's not your fault, Rafe.”

He gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Maybe not, although I still feel responsible. But know this, Kayla. I will keep you and Brianna safe. I promise.”

She nodded, her throat tight with repressed fear. Sitting here with her hand engulfed within his, she acknowledged she did trust Rafe to keep them safe. Already couldn't imagine being at the bed-and-breakfast without him.

But what about once the danger had passed? Rafe would go back to his regular coast guard duties, saving the lives of those who worked or played on the water. The thirty-five miles separating their respective homes would seem like thirty-five hundred. Their paths would rarely cross.

He'd be out on the water and she'd go back to fighting to keep her business alive and raising Brianna.

Suddenly, the rather bleak glimpse of her future seemed incredibly lonely and not the least bit appealing.

 

Kayla waited in the jeep as Rafe deactivated her security system and then went inside to do a search of her
house. She could hear Clyde barking as Rafe took the time to let him out on his chain.

She felt a little foolish sitting inside the car when two people searching the interior of the house would go much faster. But Rafe had flat-out refused to allow her to help.