The Man from Gossamer Ridge

“The evidence against Logan was damning,” he said simply. “Why keep asking a question that’s already been answered?”

“Because the one person we can prove Victor killed was a man. A man against whom he had a personal grudge. I read the statements your brother and sister-in-law gave last month after their ordeal with Logan. He used a gun to subdue them, and even then, he wasn’t very good at using it. He’s not the person who shot the game warden—that was the other man.”

“Uncle Gabe, nothing fits, don’t you see?” Cissy turned to Gabe, her expression animated. Alicia watched her warily, aware that the younger woman’s personal stakes in the case put her at risk of getting too wrapped up in the outcome of Alicia’s project. She had to be careful with Cissy, not let her get any more involved than she was already.

Gabe pressed his lips together in consternation. He looked across at Alicia. “How did you get all this material?”

Alicia looked down at her hands, a little embarrassed. “I used to date one of the local cops. He still does favors for me now and then. He talked his bosses into letting me look into some cold cases that might be connected to the other murders.”

“And you sweet-talked them into letting you request records from other law enforcement agencies, right?”

Alicia almost laughed aloud. Sweet talk wasn’t one of her strong suits. Bulldozer was a better description. “Something like that. I used Cissy’s profile, tweaked it with my own observations and put out feelers to other departments to see if they had any cases that fit the profile.”

“What did you find?”

Alicia couldn’t tell if he was interested or just humoring his niece. Either way, it might be her only chance to convince him to listen. She dug through the file for the timeline she’d worked out, speaking as she searched. “I found fifteen murders that I think are connected.”

“That many?” He sounded surprised.

“I’m not sure there aren’t more,” she admitted, finally finding the paper she was looking for. She pulled it from the file and laid it on the table in front of her.

Gabe eyed the paper warily, as if it were about to morph into a cobra or something. Alicia darted a look at Cissy, who returned her gaze with an apologetic shrug.

“I need food,” Gabe said.

Alicia blinked, caught off balance. “I could make something—”

“No, I think I’ll take my niece out to dinner.” Gabe stood, looking down at Cissy.

“Uncle Gabe—”

“I’m not shutting down the conversation,” he said. “Just tabling it until I’ve eaten.”

Cissy stood, lifting her chin. “Alicia, would you like to join us?”

Gabe’s expression was neutral, but Alicia saw the irritation in his blue eyes. She shook her head. “No, not tonight. I’ve got a lot of work to sort through. You two go have fun. We can talk tomorrow.”

Cissy’s lips tightened to a thin line and Alicia could see the family resemblance between her and her uncle. But she didn’t argue, following Gabe to the front door.

“I’ll call you if we don’t get back too late,” Cissy told Alicia firmly. “This isn’t over.”

Alicia closed the door behind them, locking up. She remained by the door a moment, surprised by how empty and large the apartment seemed now that her visitors had left.

Gabe Cooper sure knew how to fill a room with his presence.

She crossed to the sofa and plopped down in the space Gabe had just vacated. The cushion was still warm, and maybe she was just imagining it, but she thought she detected a whiff of testosterone lingering in the air.

She laughed aloud, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. Man, she needed to get out more.

Her laughter faltered a few seconds later, when she heard a furtive scrape coming from the porch outside.

Instantly tense, she grabbed her discarded jacket from the coat tree by the door and pulled the vial of pepper spray from the pocket. It seemed grossly inadequate, but her aluminum bat was in the bedroom, too far away.

There was a window by the front door, which would give her a clear view of the porch, but she couldn’t talk herself into moving the curtains aside and taking a look. She settled for the peephole in the door and its fish-eyed view. She saw no sign of movement outside.

And yet, she heard another set of creaking noises, as if someone was walking around on the wooden porch outside.

Stop it, she told herself, backing away from the door. This isn’t some isolated warehouse and you’re not really alone.

But she held on to the pepper spray anyway.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW RUDE you were.” Cissy kept her voice low, glancing around the restaurant as if she thought her half-whispered rebuke might cause a scene.

Gabe felt a hint of guilt, but it was eclipsed by annoyance at his niece and, more to the point, the pretty little egghead who’d stirred up Cissy’s emotions about her mother’s murder. “I prefer to call it direct,” he answered tightly.

“Call it whatever you want. It was still uncalled for.”

“Know what else is uncalled for? Dragging someone across the state on false pretenses.” Gabe gave Cissy a pointed look.

“They weren’t false. They were…incomplete.”

Gabe fiddled with the salad fork lying beside his water glass. “Victor Logan killed your mother.” Even as he spoke the words aloud, doubt nagged at him, making the back of his neck prickle with unease.

“You don’t sound as convinced here as you did back at Alicia’s place,” Cissy murmured.

“You haven’t mentioned any of this to your dad, have you?”

Cissy looked horrified. “No! I’m not going to him with anything less than hard evidence. He’s been through enough pain over the years trying to find Mom’s killer.”

“So you called me instead.” Not that Cissy could understand just how hard the roller coaster of false leads and dashed hopes had been on him, too. She didn’t know just how intimately he was involved in the disaster of that night, how much blame he had earned with his selfish thoughtlessness.

“You’ve been there for my brother and me, as much as anyone. I knew you’d come if I called.” Cissy looked across the table at him, her expression softening. “I trust your judgment about this particular topic.”

“Except when I disagree with your theories,” he added with an indulgent smile.

She grinned. “Exactly.”

The waitress arrived to take their orders. Cissy had chosen one of the higher-end restaurants in town, although in a place like Millbridge, Alabama, high-end was relative. A snowy linen tablecloth covered the small window-side table where they sat, their seats overlooking a moonlit garden partially obscured by their reflection bouncing back at them on the picture window. The flatware was stainless steel, but clean and shiny, free of nicks and stains.

At least the menu was unpretentious. Home cooking, plenty of options. Gabe selected a steak and vegetable plate, though he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry at the moment, thanks to Cissy’s ambush.

Cissy ordered cheese fries.

“As the apparent stand-in for your father, I have to tell you that cheese fries are almost completely lacking in nutritional value,” he said after the waitress departed.

“Cheese has protein,” she defended. “Besides, I’m feeling strangely in need of comfort food.”

Reaching across the table, he patted her hand. “That’s my fault, isn’t it?”