Page 5 of Refuge for Ailsa

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All morning.Not how he wanted to spend the morning after July Fourth, sitting in the conference room with HarleyWright and the detective from the sheriff’s department. And the pictures. Holy shit. He really didn’t want to look at those. He’d sent the ones on his phone to Harley, and they’d printed them out. If he’d thought it looked hellish at the scene, the pictures were worse. It wasn’t just what he’d seen. There were pictures of the body once they’d removed it from the water too, and he really didn’t want to see those, but after he looked, what he’d seen at the scene made sense. She was definitely already dead when he got there. Hell, her whole torso had been pretty much cut in half on a diagonal.

He kept his mouth shut during most of the time he was there, only answering questions posed to him. The less he said, the better. Then they started asking about the accounts of the incident from the people on the boats. As they read the statements they’d taken, he nodded and said, “Yes, that’s what she said at the scene,” or “Yes, that’s what he said at the scene.” He didn’t elaborate. The more he said, the more questions they asked, and he really wanted to leave. It was the part of his job that he hated the most. All he really wanted to do was get back outside.

Instead of concentrating on what was being said, he kept thinking about the woman at the marina store. What was her name? Ailsa. Ailsa…

Harley’s voice crashed into his thoughts. “And you spoke with AilsaMacDougal, right?”

MacDougal. That was it, his brain reminded him. “Yeah. She told me a very different story than the other witnesses.” He recounted everything she’d said to him and finished with, “She indicated that it really didn’t look like an accident.”

“Why?”

“Because she said he throttled the boat hard enough to lift the bow out of the water. She was of the opinion that a man trying to save someone wouldn’t turn his craft straight toward them and then power up like that.”

“That certainly isn’t what I’d do,” Harley added.

“Do you have any motives yet?” Tavish asked.

A detective named Broadman shook his head. “Not yet, but we’re combing his personal information.”

“Do you guys need anything else?” Peace and quiet in the cab of his truck was a lot more conducive to good karma than sitting in a sheriff’s office.

“Nope. If we do, we’ll give you a call,” the other detective answered. Tavish thought his name was Cooper, but he wasn’t sure.

“Yep. Well, I’ve gotta get to work…” He threw a thumb over his shoulder toward the front door.

“Yeah. Thanks for coming in.” It almost pissed him off that the thanks was a drive-by without so much as looking his way. Whatever. He just wanted to get out of there and find something to do that would take him away from civilization for a while.

After a stop to check on a few trail cams, Tavish headed out again. They’d managed to put a locator chip in a fox the previous year, and he was keeping tabs on her location. She was headed back toward her original hunting grounds near the DixRiver when his phone rang, and one look made Tavish groan.Answer it? Don’t answer it?He knew if he didn’t, she’d just keep calling.Might as well get it over with, he told himself as he pressed ACCEPT and said, “Yeah?”

“Hey, Tav! Whatcha doin’?”

“Working.”

“Well, I figured that. You’re always working.” She let out a little giggle at the end, and he was convinced that it was the most annoying sound he’d ever heard. “What are you doing when you’renotworking?”

“Sleeping.” With any luck, she hadn’t missed the vinegar in his voice. He’d tried to be as sarcastic as possible.

“Uh-huh. So, listen, my parents are having a party, and they told me to invite somebody. Naturally, I thought of you.”

Wish you hadn’t, he almost said, but he tamped down his inner voice and asked, “When?”Not that it matters, his brain barked.

“Saturday at one? We’re going to have all kinds of food and drink, and music. I think they’ve hired a DJ and they’re putting out a dance floor. Fireworks at the end. It’ll be fun.”

“I have to work next Saturday. Afternoon shift.” That much was true. “What’s the occasion?” he thought to ask.

“Their thirty-fifth anniversary.”

That seemed odd. “They didn’t want to wait until their fortieth?”

She giggled again. “No. She said she might not let him live that long!”

He stopped himself just as he was about to say,If he’s anywhere near as irritating as you, I can see why she’d say that.Instead, he said, “I see.”

“Well, dang. I’m sorry you can’t come. I haven’t seen you in a few weeks, and I miss you.”

“Sorry. Working. Gotta make a living.”

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