He swept the light over the pristine engine, and then paused to stare at one spot. “I see a few drops of blood by the generator. Could be from Jason or Laura—making repairs or performing maintenance—or from the killer, if he tampered with it.”

  “Can it be compared to Jason’s and Laura’s blood type?” Bree asked.

  Shawn grinned. “It certainly can. I’m a forensic wannabe, I happen to have the right equipment to grab a sample. And I’ve got a friend in the lab who can process it.”

  “You won’t be risking your job if you do this, will you?” Bree asked.

  “Detective Newlin has already processed the scene and released it, so I won’t be contaminating evidence, and my friend can run this sample without any problem.” He reached into his tote bag and brought out tape and a pencil.

  Clint squatted next to him. “Tape for a bloodstain? Never seen that done before even on those CSI shows.”

  “Collecting blood really depends on the type of surface and quantity of blood, and if it’s wet or dried. You can scrape dried bloodstains into an envelope, but they tend to break into small flakes that frequently get lost during the scraping process. Since there’s so little blood, I want to collect as much of it as I can.”

  He placed a strip of tape over the spot then rubbed it with the pencil eraser. He then lifted the tape. “I’ll put this on a vinyl acetate backing card and my friend will be good to go.” Once that was done, he started checking for any missed fingerprints.

  While he worked, Bree came to her feet and so did Clint. A flash of light down the dock caught Bree’s attention. Before she could take a better look, Clint grabbed her shoulders and directed her inside.

  “Stay in here,” he warned.

  Shawn looked up. “What is it?”

  “Sun glinting off binoculars. A guy at the end of the dock has them trained on us.”

  “Do you think it’s the killer?” Bree asked, her words barely louder than a whisper.

  * * *

  Clint wanted to go with Shawn, who’d headed down the dock to confront the observer. But there was no way Clint would leave Bree alone and exposed to danger for even a nanosecond.

  He opened the door to the head. “Let’s move you into the bathroom. It’s on the port side so you’ll be as far away from the man as possible.”

  She entered the small space. “Do you really think it’s the killer?”

  “I’m not taking any chances.”

  The roar of a boat engine cut through the air, covering her response.

  “Stay here,” Clint warned and moved to the porthole on the starboard side of the boat.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “A large cabin cruiser leaving the dock. There’s a big guy at the helm, but that’s all I can see. Shawn’s heading back this way. Hopefully he can tell us more.”

  Clint stepped to the cabin door and watched Shawn jog up the dock and onto the boat, which dipped and rolled with his weight.

  Clint widened his stance to adjust for the movement. “I assume that was the guy with binoculars taking off in the boat.”

  Shawn nodded and paused to catch his breath. “I called dispatch to get someone out here to trail the boat. Unfortunately, it’ll take a while for someone to arrive. And with the many public boat ramps on this lake—”

  “This guy will get away,” Clint interrupted in frustration.

  “Correct.”

  “What about the guy or his boat?” Bree asked. “Did you catch any distinguishing features?”

  “Boat’s big. Maybe a forty footer. I only saw the guy’s back. He’s six feet, 220 pounds. He wore a navy baseball cap, but that’s one of the Rangers’ team colors, and I doubt it will help us find him.”

  Clint agreed that many locals would own caps from the nearest professional baseball team. “What about registration numbers on the boat?”

  “By the time I got to down the dock, he was taking off so I wasn’t able to catch the numbers. I did notice a wide blue stripe though. With the size of the boat, it could have done the damage on this one.”

  “That’s something, then,” Bree said, but she sounded like she didn’t believe her own statement.

  Clint faced her. “It’ll be safer for you if we take off while this guy is still on the run.”

  “If you leave a key,” Shawn said, “I can finish my search and lock up before taking the blood and any other evidence I find to the lab.”

  Bree dug the key ring from her pocket and snapped off a key. “Thank you for your help. I hope I can repay you someday.”

  “I don’t need repayment, but if you’re not seeing anyone...” He winked.

  Clint eyed Shawn. “We need to go now.”

  “Hey, man, I was just joking around.”

  “Not a good idea to waste time with jokes when a killer is out there.” Clint tried not to snap, but he didn’t manage it. “I’d like you to walk the path to my truck then call me if we’re clear to leave.”

  Shawn nodded and held up the key. “I’ll get this back to you tonight.”

  He stepped off, and Clint faced Bree.

  “You were kind of hard on him,” she said.

  Clint ran a hand around the back of his neck and rubbed stiff muscles. “I’ll apologize when we get to my truck.”

  She eyed him, but didn’t say another word. It wasn’t hard to see his terse attitude disappointed her. In truth, he was disappointed with himself. Shawn was simply trying to help. Plus, he was a true friend and wouldn’t hit on her for real.

  Clint’s phone rang and, seeing Shawn’s name, he answered.

  “You’re clear,” Shawn said.

  “Hey, man. Sorry I snapped at you.”

  “My fault, bro. I can see that you still have a thing for Bree. I shouldn’t joke about dating her.”

  “Roger that,” Clint said to keep from giving even a hint to Bree about what they were discussing. He disconnected. “We’re clear to leave.”

  He stepped onto the deck and ran his gaze over the dock. Sure, Shawn had cleared the area, but as a SEAL, Clint knew things could change and lives could be lost in a heartbeat.

  SIX

  Bree stepped through the door of Laura and Jason’s small ranch house. She paused in the family room entrance. Memories assaulted her. Memories of decorating the place with Laura, parties in the family room, barbecues on the large deck, and frequent afternoons when she and Laura popped popcorn and watched chick flicks or just talked about their lives while Jason went golfing.

  Then there was the day Laura brought Ella home to the nursery Bree had helped decorate. Oh, the joy. Indescribable for Jason and Laura, and for Bree who served as Ella’s godmother. Never did she imagine she’d have to fulfill her promise to step in and become Ella’s mother.

  An involuntary cry of anguish escaped, and she clamped a hand over her mouth as tears ran down her cheeks.

  Clint came up behind her. “I should have realized how hard this would be for you. I could have come over here alone.”

  She shook her head, but she couldn’t form a word in response.

  “It’s okay, honey.” He turned her into his arms. “I’m here for you. Go ahead and cry it out again.”

  He was right. He was here for her. For now, but he wouldn’t be here for long. His leave would end, and he’d go back to risking his life on dangerous missions. She didn’t want that. Not at all. Her crying ramped up.

  “Shh,” he kept whispering as he patted her back.

  She should pull away before she became too dependent on him, but she clung tightly and let the tears fall. When she could cry no more, she leaned back and looked up at him. His eyes were soft with compassion. Marveling at the depth of caring in his expression, she brushed her fingers over his cheek.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as she lost herself in his eyes.

  He started to speak, then stopped and cleared his throat. “We were always good together, weren’t we?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, letting her hand drift to the spot on his shirt dampened by her tears. “It was the apart that I couldn’t handle. I still can’t handle it.”

  “And I can’t change jobs.” The emotion had left his voice, leaving a flat, disappointed tone.

  She drew back. “And that leaves us in the same place.”

  He didn’t seem like he wanted to agree, but he nodded. “And if it’s possible, I hate it even more that we’ll have to go our separate ways when this is all over.”

  Sadness and disappointment drew her toward him to nestle in his arms and take comfort, but she resisted. Clinging to him would only increase the urge to have him in her life.

  She pushed from his arms. “We should try to limit the time we spend alone together, and it’ll be easier.”

  “Maybe,” he said, but he didn’t seem to believe it. He gestured at a desk in the corner holding Jason’s laptop. “The computer should be a great place to find work information. At least if it’s not password-protected.”

  “As usual, Jason thought of everything. In the paperwork that came with the will, he left detailed instructions on how to access his laptop so I could locate information about his accounts.” She crossed the room, sat in the leather chair and booted up the computer where she entered the password she’d committed to memory.

  Clint came to stand behind her. “Email’s a good place to start.”

  She forced her attention to the screen and clicked on the email icon. A window opened displaying two profiles. One was labeled work and the other home.

  “Start with work,” Clint suggested.

  She opened the account and clicked on the last email received before Jason died. The message was from an Isaac Ellison.

  “That’s one of the names Shawn gave us,” Clint said.

  The email referenced an insurance issue with Jason’s client. There was no mention of the client’s name, just an account number, but Isaac demanded to talk to Jason about the client.

  Clint pointed at the email signature. “Looks like Isaac was Jason’s boss, and he doesn’t sound very happy with Jason.”

  Bree peered up at Clint. “If work spilled into their personal lives, he could also be the guy who argued with Jason at the marina. And from there it could have escalated to murder.”

  * * *

  Isaac Ellison led Bree and Clint down the hall toward his office located in the outskirts of McKinney. Bree mimed for Clint that Isaac was of the right physical build to be the man who’d fled from the marina earlier that day. Clint nodded his understanding and agreement.

  Isaac stepped into the small space and gestured at chairs sitting in front of his desk. Bree took a seat and ran her gaze over the room. The office was nondescript except for boating pictures on the wall. Bree didn’t know much about boats, but it was obvious that the cabin cruiser in the pictures matched the one they saw in the marina that could have damaged Jason’s boat.

  “Nice boat,” she said. “Is it yours?”

  “Yes.” He frowned. “Jason and I were good friends. We often went boating together. I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

  She hadn’t seen this man at Jason’s funeral, much less heard Laura or Jason mention him, so she doubted they were good friends. Was the man simply exaggerating—or was he outright lying?

  “I’m not convinced that Jason would be careless enough to die from carbon monoxide poisoning,” she said.

  “I found that odd, too. I know he was careful not to run his AC at night.”

  Interesting. “Did you tell the police that?”

  He shook his head. “I figured it was just too hot that night, and he decided to risk running it.”

  “If his death wasn’t an accident,” Clint said, “can you think of anyone who might have wanted to kill Jason or Laura?”

  Isaac shook his head.

  “Maybe Jason had a disgruntled client,” Bree suggested as she and Clint had decided not to tell Isaac that they’d read the email and to wait for him to offer information.

  “Not that I know of, and I gotta think that if someone was angry enough to attack Jason over one of his decisions, that Jason would have told me about it.”

  “What exactly did Jason’s job as an adjuster entail?” Clint asked.

  “He reviewed insurance claims and either approved or denied them.”

  “So he could have made someone mad by denying their claim.”

  “Sure, happens all the time, but mad enough to kill? Nah. I can’t see that.”

  “Would you mind checking his case files just in case he failed to mention an extremely upset client to you?” Bree asked.

  “Sure, yeah. I’m glad to take a look, but he had a heavy caseload so it’ll take some time.”

  He was going out of his way to seem helpful and agreeable, but after reading his email to Jason, Bree suspected it was a front. She doubted he’d follow through and actually contact her about any clients and they’d have to question him again about the email.

  “Have you been here all day?” Clint asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  Clint shrugged. “What about the night Jason died? Where were you then?”

  Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was home with my wife.”

  “One of the marina workers told us they saw Jason arguing with a man of your size and build on the dock just before he died,” Bree said. “Could that have been you?”

  Isaac’s narrow lips dipped in a frown. “Wasn’t me.”

  “You’re sure?” Clint asked, and Bree knew he doubted Isaac just as she did.

  “Positive.” He glanced at his watch then stood. “I’m swamped this afternoon. I’ll walk you out.”

  He rushed them out the door and to the exit.

  At the elevator to street level, Bree peered up at Clint. “He sure was in a hurry to get rid of us.”

  “Agreed.”

  She boarded the elevator. “I’m thinking he was the guy who argued with Jason. And the guy who was watching us earlier today.”

  “I don’t know about that, but I don’t think he was completely truthful with us.”

  “Maybe we should have asked him about the email.”

  Clint shook his head. “I still think it was best to wait. We don’t want to scare him into destroying any evidence.”

  When the door opened on ground level, Clint’s gaze turned razor-sharp, and his arm went around her waist to snug her tight against his side. She didn’t know if he’d seen something suspicious or if he was just being cautious, but she gladly accepted his protection and stayed close until she climbed into his truck.

  He sat behind the wheel and she swiveled to face him. “Do you think we should go back to the marina and question the woman who saw Jason’s argument?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt.” Clint stared ahead.

  “What are you thinking?”

  He peered at her. “That Jason’s death is work-related, and Isaac knows about it, but isn’t going to admit it, and that we have our work cut out for us.”

  “Knows about it...as in, he knows who did it? So you don’t think he’s the killer himself?”

  “Not necessarily. He got flustered toward the end, when we had him talk about his whereabouts. He wasn’t expecting those questions. But he was calm and collected when it came to talking about Jason’s angry clients—as if he’d practiced saying that part and had planned his answers.”

  “But if he wasn’t involved in the murders, why lie about the clients? Why not just tell the authorities about whoever had a grudge against Jason?”

  “I didn’t say he wasn’t involved,” Clint replied. “I just think this might have been something more complicated than a simple denied claim. Maybe there were other factors involved—bribes or payouts of some kind. Or maybe there was some kind of deal or scam that went wrong.”

  “Are you suggesting Jason was involved in something unethical or illegal?”

  “Maybe.”

  “No. If you knew Jason, you’d know that wasn’t possible. He was a man of faith and principles. He’d never do anything unscrupulous.”

  “You’d be surprised what good people are capable of doing,” he replied.

  “Not Jason.”

  She turned away and caught sight of Isaac rushing out of the building. “Look.”

  Clint swiveled. “So much for being swamped.”

  Isaac climbed into a white SUV and roared past them.

  “Do you think our visit spooked him?”

  “Let’s follow him and find out.” Clint started the truck and eased into traffic.

  He hung back, and Bree kept her gaze fixed on Isaac’s SUV until he turned into the marina parking lot.

  Clint pulled to the side of the road. “We’ll give him a chance to park and get out of his car so he doesn’t see us.”

  Bree wanted to race after Isaac, but Clint had experience in evasion tactics so she tried to be patient. Clint finally eased forward, and Bree saw Isaac starting down the gangway toward the slips.

  Clint parked near Isaac’s SUV. “I don’t like the idea of you getting out of the truck here, but I like leaving you behind even less. So stay next to me and follow my directions.”

  Bree nodded and, by the time she stepped down from the truck, he’d jogged to her door. She expected his arm would settle at her waist, and once it did, they moved at a quick clip, trailing Isaac into the maze of boats.

  “He’s boarding his boat.” As she spoke, he ducked into the cabin.

  “If he’s in the cabin, he’s not leaving the dock.”

  “Maybe he has something onboard that he needs to get.”

  Clint picked up speed. “I’m going straight inside. You stay behind me. Move softly to keep from alerting him.”