Page 78 of Only One More Lie

Juniper had disappeared into one of the spare rooms at the lodge, saying she wanted to lie down a while but stay close. She had a lot to process, so maybe some sleep would be good for her.

Meanwhile, the Arctic Circle Murder Club found a table in the corner where they could figure out their next plan of action.

But Andi’s thoughts had been racing all morning. She forced herself to eat some eggs and toast. To drink her coffee.

As she finished eating, she stood, unable to sit still any longer. Instead, she placed her hands on her hips and began to pace. Meetings like these took her back to her days as an attorney when she and her colleagues would prep for a big case.

“Duke, did Heath say anything else when you guys were talking to him?” she started.

“Just that he’d flown in and landed this morning.”

“Where is his wife?” Simmy asked. “Why didn’t see come?”

“She’s been sick with pneumonia and couldn’t fly—even though she wanted to,” Duke said. “So Heath came alone.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Andi said before turning to Matthew. “Matthew, while you’ve been researching, did you find anything significant that may have happened on December 6 to trigger that specific date for these murders?”

He pushed his glasses higher on his nose as he peered up at her. “I’ve been looking into it, but I haven’t made much progress. I’ll keep looking.”

“You do that,” Andi said. “We also need to look up any stories from this area about snowmen. Maybe that plays a significant role in why this killer is doing what he is doing.”

Mariella raised a manicured finger. “I can help Matthew with that.”

“What about Jesse?” Duke sat back in his chair, appearing stiff from sitting for so long. “Has anybody looked at him again? He was the primary suspect when the police originally investigated.”

“He had an alibi for the night of one or two of the murders,” Ranger said. “I’m not sure what it would do to continue looking into him.”

“You’re right.” Andi didn’t think they should waste their time if the man had already been cleared—especially since the countdown was on. “I’m also wondering what the connection is between the victims and the body parts left on these snowmen. It’s been bugging me because I wonder if there’s any significance to those choices.”

“I don’t see how there would be.” Duke shrugged. “I mean, the woman that worked at the planetarium did lose an eye and the gardener lost a hand. But why in the world would hair be significant? It’s not like the Burrows were barbers or hairstylists.”

Andi frowned and slowly nodded. He was right. But . . . “I just feel as if we’re missing something, and we need to figure out what it is.”

“Let’s review everything we have one more time,” Duke suggested. “We won’t be able to do much investigating outside this room today anyway, not unless these conditions outside clear up some.”

Andi glanced at the window and saw the snow still coming down. She hoped Gibson got to the hospital safely.

“I say we start looking over these victims again,” Andi said. “If we study the possible significance of the date and the snowmen, maybe something will click for us.”

With that directive and all the tasks given out, the team got to work.

An hour later, the team was still researching. At least they still had an internet connection out here, but Duke wasn’t sure how much longer that would last. The conditions outside were brutal, to say the least.

He and Andi had been studying the victim list, looking for any connections they might have missed. So far, they hadn’t found anything of note.

What were they missing?

“This may or may not be significant.” Matthew stared at his computer and tapped a few more things on the keyboard. “But Ididfind one thing about something happening on December 6.”

They all turned toward him, giving him their full attention.

“Like I said, it might not be anything, but on December 6 twenty-one years ago, a man and woman were shot and killed in their home in Fairbanks. Their killer was never found.”

“Keep going,” Andi said.

“This couple left behind an eight-year-old son. Maybe this wouldn’t be significant, but . . .”

“But what?” Ranger tapped his finger on the table.

---