Scent of Murder

“Me.” Chase stared out the window. “They want me.”

Startled, Caitlin jerked her head around to stare at him. The police were here for the handsome candle man?

What have I gotten myself into?

FIVE

Chase stood in the parking lot beside Detective Jenkins’s vehicle and watched Caitlin’s car disappear down the treelined street. She was an attractive woman with a sweet, appealing air about her that he didn’t come across often. And she’d survived Mom’s clumsy maneuvering with grace. Exactly the kind of woman who could coax him back into the dating world. But the sight of the sheriff sent her scurrying away like a frightened squirrel. Not that he blamed her.

He glanced toward the detective, who sat behind the wheel of his car with a cell phone held to his ear. Chase’s hands tightened into fists. The hours he’d spent last year being questioned by Jenkins were still fresh in his mind. This morning had been easy compared to the investigation surrounding Kevin’s death. And Chase had never been able to make any headway in prying out information that would help him understand the real reason behind Kevin’s murder. The detective’s accusations had gnawed at Chase since the moment he’d first uttered them. And the worst part was, Jenkins had hard evidence to back up his claims, evidence Chase couldn’t ignore and couldn’t begin to explain.

Blood tests didn’t lie. At the time of his death, Kevin had been high on heroin.

The guy Chase had known since grade school, the one who had worked right alongside him at the candle factory, wasn’t the clean, straight-up friend he’d always appeared to be. He’d fooled everyone, including Chase.

The car door opened. Jenkins’s head appeared over the top, his gaze locked on to Chase as though daring him to turn away. Chase stood his ground and returned the hard stare without flinching.

“Hollister.” The man left the car door open and came around it.

“Detective Jenkins.” Chase managed an even if guarded tone. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“You can count on seeing a lot of me until we solve this crime.” A smile flashed onto Jenkins’s face and disappeared just as quickly. “The team is still combing the area where you found the body. Judging from the tire tracks, the car was pushed down the embankment from approximately the same place as your buddy’s last year. If the killer is the same person, and I have no doubt it is—” Jenkins’s stare became hard “—we won’t find anything to identify him or her inside the car.”

So much for Irene’s suggestion that this crime would lead to new evidence about Kevin. From the sound of things, they didn’t expect to find the killer this time, either.

But why come all the way out here to tell him? Just to needle him?

Chase let out a slow breath before he spoke. “What do you want from me, Detective?”

“For the moment, information.” His eyes narrowed. “Ever hear of a man named Lancaster?”

Chase felt pinned beneath Jenkins’s searching stare. “Lancaster?” He searched his memory. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You sure? George Walter Lancaster.”

“No. I don’t know anybody named George.”

“Ever hear Kevin Duncan mention someone by that name?”

Jenkins’s stare hardened, as though he could pry a confession out of Chase. But there was nothing to confess. Whoever this Lancaster guy was, Chase didn’t know him.

After a minute, Jenkins’s gaze fell away. “I hoped you might have heard of him. Lancaster is the dead guy you found in the park this morning. He wasn’t from around here, and there’s no indication he was in town a year ago when your buddy was killed. But he does have ties to a heroin ring up in Indianapolis.”

“Heroin.” Nausea churned in Chase’s gut. How he hated that word.

Jenkins nodded. “I talked to DEA up there. Seems they’d been watching him for a while. Got a couple of tips that Lancaster’s responsible for some pretty powerful stuff that’s been hitting the streets in that area. Black tar heroin, all the way from Mexico.”

“Then why didn’t they arrest him?”

“They never caught him with the goods. They were making progress, but he must have gotten wind that he was being watched. He disappeared a couple of weeks ago. Guess we know where he slithered off to.”

“Slithered” was right. If there was anything Chase despised more than a drug dealer, he couldn’t think of it. “So he came down here and got tangled up with the same person who killed Kevin last year.”

Of course he did. Druggies stuck together, didn’t they? Chase ground his foot into the gravel that covered the parking lot.

“Apparently.” Jenkins cocked his head. “You sure you never heard of him?”

Chase stiffened. Was the detective insinuating that he hung out in the same circles as heroin users? But in the next instant he wilted. As far as Jenkins was concerned, he did. He used to hang out with Kevin.

He swallowed. “I’m sure.”

His answer seemed to satisfy the detective. With a brief nod, Jenkins rounded the cruiser. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Detective?”

Chase stopped him with a word before he slid into the seat. The man paused in the act of bending. Chase licked suddenly dry lips.

“Uh, if you need help with anything, I’m here. Just ask.”

Jenkins’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of help would you be able to give me, Hollister?”

Chase lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Whatever. If I can help you track down the person who killed Kevin, I will.”

The man studied him for a long moment. Chase shifted his weight, but held Jenkins’s gaze. Finally the detective pulled his card case out of his pocket, extracted a card, and held it across the roof of the car. Chase took it.

Jenkins spoke. “If you hear anything that might give us a lead, call me. Otherwise, stay out of our way.”

With a hard swallow, Chase nodded. Jenkins slid into the car and shut the door. The vehicle’s tires crunched on the gravel as it backed up, turned around, and headed for the road. Chase stood, unmoving, and watched until it was out of sight. He examined the card in his hand. How much help could he be? He didn’t know anything about drugs or drug dealers, and he certainly knew no one who could commit murder. But he’d keep his ears open and feed any helpful scraps of information to the detective. It was the least he could do for Kevin.

Detective Jenkins clutched the steering wheel as he drove toward headquarters. A long afternoon in the office lay ahead of him. A regular death resulted in a ton of paperwork—the load doubled with a violent murder. And then there were extra reports to be filed with the DEA folks, even though they hadn’t found any illegal drugs on Lancaster’s body. Still, after his conversation with Indianapolis, DEA would want to be informed.

He turned onto the main road, and passed the sign for Hollister’s candle factory. Interesting development, Hollister offering to help, even though he obviously disliked Jenkins. Not that Jenkins blamed him. Things had gotten pretty rough between them last year, what with Hollister insisting his buddy was clean. Jenkins had finally been forced to lay out the facts, show him the labs. That had taken the wind out of his sails.

There was something about Hollister, something Jenkins couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’d picked up on it last year, and again just now. The man was smart, no doubt about that. Something told Jenkins that Hollister was connected to this Lancaster slime. Jenkins had been a cop too long to ignore that niggling in his gut. He’d better keep an eye on Hollister.

SIX

Caitlin walked up the picturesque street, shopping bags swinging at her side. Hundreds of darling shops and art galleries lined the streets of Little Nashville. The sidewalks were crowded with samples of the wares for sale inside, everything from hand-carved wind chimes to intricate macramé planters overflowing with multicolored blooms. The Internet had described Nashville as an artist colony, and Caitlin could see why. This place was a craft lovers’ paradise.

She’d checked into the hotel, dropped her stuff in the room, and then left to wander what seemed to be the town’s main street. A hand-painted sign pointed the way to Antique Alley, and that was something she definitely didn’t want to miss. Her checking account was going to take a hit during this trip, and she didn’t even care.

But she did care about her feet. All these brick and cobbled walkways looked charming, but they were rough on the feet. She had slipped on a pair of sandals, but tomorrow she’d opt for her comfy, worn sneakers. Jazzy would be horrified at the breach of fashion etiquette, but Jazzy wasn’t here, was she? Caitlin put more stock in comfort than show.

Of course, she’d take extra care with her appearance tonight. It wouldn’t do to look shabby when Chase picked her up for church.

She came to a halt on the sidewalk at the traitorous turn her thoughts had taken. Tonight is not a date.

So why then, had she mentally planned to wear the most flattering outfit she’d brought with her? She set her jaw. She would not violate the dateless year. Tonight was nothing more than a visit to church with a friendly stranger. And to prove it, she’d wear the orange sweater Jazzy said clashed with her blonde hair and made her look like a giant candy corn.