“Sugar cookies for Dawson,” Annabelle said proudly.
“And for your big sister Chloe,” she said, taking a cookie. “You’re getting good at this. These are delicious.”
Her sister lit up at the praise. “I figure I’ll branch out into cooking. Willie has promised to teach me a few of Dawson’s favorite dishes.”
“You couldn’t ask for a better teacher,” Chloe said of Dawson’s mother.
TJ was studying her again. “I know you, Chloe. Unless you have a project, you will go crazy between now and the wedding. We don’t want that.”
She realized that her sister was giving her permission to dig into the Drew Calhoun case. Like she needed her permission, she thought, but wasn’t about to voice it. Annabelle and TJ would be busy and out of her hair. She was her own woman. She could do whatever she wanted.
“But are you sure there isn’t more to this quest you’re on?” TJ asked, studying her closely. “Like Justin?”
Chloe had to smile. Her sister knew her so well. “I might as well hang around for a while. Anyway, we have a wedding coming up, right?”
“That’s what we wanted to tell you,” Annabelle said excitedly. “We have a surprise.”
Chloe had already told them that she didn’t like surprises. Often it meant change. Like when their parents had been killed and they’d been shipped to Whitehorse to live with a grandmother they didn’t even know existed before then. Grandma Frannie had been wonderful, but she’d definitely been a surprise.
What was she thinking? Frannie had continued to be a surprise.
“We’re going to have a double wedding!” Annabelle announced, smiling broadly, her eyes glittering as she reached over and grasped TJ’s hand.
“Congratulations!” Chloe said, glad for the change of subject. “This is wonderful. What can I do to help?”
The conversation quickly shifted to the double wedding: who, what, where, when.
“We need to find you a dress to wear,” Annabelle was saying.
“I thought you both wanted small weddings?” she asked.
“It can be small but elegant,” Annabelle said.
Chloe looked at TJ. “You and Silas are good with this?”
Her sister laughed. “My mountain man does own a tux, you know.”
She looked at them and felt her heart swell. “I am so happy for both of you.”
“So what have you found out so far?” TJ asked as Chloe joined her at the table.
“I just did a little research on Drew Calhoun’s death,” she said. “There wasn’t much in the local paper so I talked to the sheriff. It was interesting—and disturbing.”
“In what way?” Annabelle asked as she brought over a plate of cookies and joined them.
“No real answers. I can understand why McCall ruled it an accident, but it definitely left me wondering. I’m sure that’s the problem Justin’s dad is having with it, as well. Did you know that someone beat up Drew that night before he was shot? He had cuts and bruises, a black eye and scratches on his face and arms that the coroner said appeared to be from fingernails.”
“So some woman beat him up?” Annabelle said.
“I’d say he definitely tangled with someone or maybe a mountain lion,” she said. “I’d love to know who was responsible. But it makes me think that it’s why Drew, who was drunk, was in the cabin with his gun.”
“Maybe he was going after whoever beat him up,” TJ suggested.
“Or thought they were coming after him,” Annabelle added.
Chloe sighed. “We might never know. He wasn’t dead though when Justin found him. According to Justin, he took the gun away from him—that’s how his fingerprints ended up on the gun. It also explained trace amounts of gunpowder residue on Justin’s hands.”
“I heard that one of the reasons Bert thinks Justin shot his brother was because he found him standing over Drew holding the gun,” Annabelle said.
“That would do it,” TJ agreed.
“Also Justin and Drew had a fight earlier in the day,” Chloe said.
“What convinced the sheriff that Justin didn’t do it?” TJ, the mystery/thriller writer, asked.
“Before I left her office, McCall gave me a copy of the coroner’s report. I’ve only glanced at it, but Drew was shot at close range in the chest. There was another shot fired either before or after. This one in the opposite direction. The bullet lodged in the wall next to the door.”
“That’s odd,” TJ said.
“That’s what I thought. I suggested to the sheriff that someone shot Drew with his gun, then dropped it in his lap to make it look like a suicide and was leaving, not realizing Drew was still alive. He picked up the gun and fired at his would-be killer. His shot went wild. He was still holding the gun when Justin appeared minutes later and took it away from him. Justin said he heard a vehicle motor leaving after he found Drew, but apparently no one else did since his father found him not long after, holding the gun.”
“Or Drew was drunk and angry. He fired the shot at the door before turning the gun on himself,” TJ said and shrugged. “Like you said, we’ll probably never know.”
“But what if someone got away with murder?” Chloe said.
Neither sister said anything for a moment.
“Wait, if you really think Drew was murdered, won’t this be dangerous?” Annabelle said.
“Maybe even more dangerous if Justin Calhoun decides to come to the New Year’s Eve Masquerade Dance,” TJ said. “There are apparently plenty of people in this town who believe he killed his brother. Justin might be the last person who wants you playing investigative reporter into his brother’s death.”
* * *
“WE’VE GOT TROUBLE.”
“I heard. Justin Calhoun is back in town. Someone saw him buying beer at the convenience store. Nici Kent was with him.”
“Bigger trouble than that.”
“Chloe Clementine. She’s an investigative reporter from some big California newspaper. She spent time at the local newspaper wanting to know about Drew Calhoun’s death. Then she went over to the sheriff’s office. I heard the sheriff gave her the coroner’s report on his death.”
“So what? The sheriff ruled it an accident. It’s been five years. It isn’t as if they would reopen the case because of some nosey reporter. Just keep your cool. Nothing’s going to come of this.”
“But what if this Clementine gets too close to the truth?”
“Then I’ll take care of her. You worry too much. Drew Calhoun got what was coming to him. There is no reason anyone would suspect we were involved. So chill out. She’s going to be asking a lot of questions, but we don’t know anything, right?”
“Right. It’s just that after five years—”
“I’m telling you it’s nothing. It’s over. We’re all in the clear.” But even as he mouthed the words, he could tell that they weren’t in the clear. There was a weak link and he was going to have to take care of it.
After disconnecting he considered his options. He wouldn’t do anything until he