Page 59 of Breaking Rules

Even from this distance, Sam could tell the man was dead. His body was splayed at an unnatural angle, his limbs twisted and bent in ways that made Sam’s stomach turn. He lay face down, his head at an odd angle. One arm was stretched out, fingers clawing at the rock as if he’d tried to stop his fall at the last moment.

A dark stain spread out beneath him, seeping into the cracks and crevices of the stone.

“We need to call it in,” he said. “Get a recovery team out here. And we need to make sure Kevin and Wyatt have things under control.”

Jo nodded, already reaching for her radio. She spoke into the receiver as they hurried back to the cabin.

Wyatt and Kevin had the thug tied up in the chair. Hartman had been untied and was sitting at the table, Kevin dabbing at a cut on his face with a tissue.

“What happened to Rickman?” Kevin asked, his voice tight.

Sam shook his head. “Dead. Went over the cliff.”

Wyatt let out a low whistle. “Darn.”

“Hartman,” Sam said, crossing the room. “You okay?”

The old man shrugged, wincing slightly at the movement. “I’ve had worse.”

“That was quite a move.” Sam nodded toward the thug, “Rushing him while tied up.”

Hartman rubbed his wrists, his eyes distant. “It was the least I could do. I figured it was time I tried to redeem myself. Even if it was just a small chance.”

Sam felt a pang of sympathy. He knew the weight of past mistakes, the burden of trying to make things right.

Sam turned back to Kevin. “He give you anything?” he asked, jerking his chin toward the prisoner.

Kevin shrugged. “Says he works for Rickman. Does whatever the boss tells him.”

Sam crouched, bringing his face level with the thug’s. “That include dragging bodies into the lake?”

The man’s eyes widened, a flicker of fear passing over his face. He licked his lips, his gaze darting between Sam and the others. “I think,” he said slowly, his voice trembling slightly, “I want a lawyer.”

Sam sighed. They’d lost Rickman, but maybe this guy could give them some answers. “Okay, let’s get this guy back to the station and processed. We may have a long night ahead of us.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Kevin reached for a potato skin, piling it high with gooey cheese and a generous dollop of chive-dotted sour cream. “These are nothing like Bridget’s,” he said, taking a bite. The others murmured in agreement, their mouths full of the savory snack.

Holden, ever the voice of reason, chuckled. “Well, we’ll just have to make do with these for now. Can’t expect Bridget to feed us all the time, especially with her starting culinary school.”

They were sitting at a big table at Holy Spirits. Sam noticed the usual group was growing. Tonight, they had Sam, Jo, Kevin, Wyatt, Reese, Holden Joyce, Mick, and Harry. Even Dominic Hartman had joined them to celebrate closing the Alex Sheridan case.

“How is your new class going?” Mick asked.

Bridget’s eyes sparkled, and her voice brimmed with enthusiasm. “It was incredible! The instructor is so knowledgeable, and I learned so much in just a few hours.”

Bridget animatedly described the techniques she had learned and the dishes she couldn’t wait to try. Her passion was infectious, and the group found themselves hanging on her every word.

“I think I’m really going to love it,” Bridget concluded, a contented smile on her face. “It’s like I’ve finally found my calling. And now, if Garvin will sell to Jo, everything will be perfect.”

“He’s getting closer,” Jo said, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve got a good feeling about it. I think we might be able to make it our permanent home.”

“And he gave permission for us to bring Pickles in.” Bridget transferred a section of gooey nachos from the main plate to her little dish.

“Pickles?” Hartman looked confused.

“It’s a stray cat,” Harry informed him, and the two men rolled their eyes.

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