“Bloody hell.”
He’s got that right. I didn’t forgive Liam for a week after that one. Sand is not your friend.
“Where and when are we meeting up in the morning?” I call out, wanting to get out of the cold and to the cabin so I can check out the hot tub.
“Nine. There’s a building near the entrance that serves breakfast,” Faith announces.
“Are you not coming for a drink?” Charlotte asks, glancing up from her phone.
“No, I’m heading back. I’ll catch you all later.”
We leave after saying goodbye, following the map that was given to Clayton at reception.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Due to the dim lighting, I’ve not been able to take in much of the area, yet I can still see the beauty in what I have viewed. Whoever takes care of the presentation of the cabins, does it with love. They’ve put dedication into detail, into making each one look loved and cared for.
I feel terrible over how they’ve let us stay. Something is bound to get broken. I don’t want their work to be ruined.
From the introduction Clayton gave me after we left the others, Cabin Lakes is family run and some of the cabins are long-term rentals.
I can see why. Not only is the scenery—from what I’ve managed to glimpse—stunning, but each cabin is warm and inviting.
Each end of the cabin has hanging baskets, ready for when the flowers bloom. Under the window is a flower bed, a wooden bench underneath. On each side of the door are two lanterns, the electrical candles flickering to replicate a real flame.
There’s even a small wooden locker next to the door to place muddy boots and umbrellas.
“How did you find this place?” I ask as we continue along the path.
“My granddad was friends with theirs. We would come during the winter most years. When the lake is frozen or snow is on the ground here, it’s spectacular.”
“I can believe it. This place is incredible,” I gush.
“It really is. That cabin,” he continues, pointing to a two-storey brightly-lit home, “is Lola and Dean’s home. They used the plot of land to build on when her parents’ cabin was destroyed during Storm Ellen. He used parts of it in the house to give her some of it back. It was one of the last things she had left of them.”
That’s beautiful.
“As much as I love this place so far, I don’t think I could live here.”
Clayton doesn’t seem convinced. “Really? Why? This is one of the most beautiful places in England.”
“Exactly,” I affirm. “Living here, unless it held sentimental value, would become ordinary. You wouldn’t see the beauty like someone who was visiting for the first time.”
“Huh?”
I sigh, stopping outside our cabin, and turn to him. “Why do you go on holiday?”
“To get away, relax, explore.”
I nod, agreeing. “And for a change of scenery. People who live near the beach won’t pay to go to another one that’s the same. They won’t see the beauty, enjoy the smell of salt in the air, or delight in being a tourist. They won’t see the little things because they live with it. I couldn’t live like that. I love that feeling you get when you experience something for the first time, when you taste something, or that rush you get. I can’t imagine not having it. Although,” I add, taking a look around at the paved walkway and sun-powered streetlamps, “I couldn’t imagine there being anywhere as nice as this in England.”
When he doesn’t say anything for a moment, I glance up at him. His pupils dilate, his lips parting as he tilts his head to the side. I can’t help but feel his surprise at my words, like he’s seeing me for the first time or is taken off guard by the fact I’m capable of being evocative.
No one has ever looked at me this way. Usually when I speak, people roll their eyes or snort, thinking I’m joking.
I duck my head, uncomfortable with the emotions coursing through my body.
He clears his throat. “I get it. Sometimes, people take this world for granted, always sure it will be as it’s always been. But it won’t. Nothing lasts forever. I admire your perspective.”
I get his point, yet… “Way to be morbid. But I get your point.”
He laughs, pushing the key into the door as my phone rings. “Let’s get inside so you can answer that.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, before answering the call. “Hey, Uncle Liam, is everything okay?”
“Take the master,” Clayton whispers, pointing to the door on the left of the small hallway.
I nod, pulling my case down the hall and into the room.
“Are you busy?”
“Nope.” I heave, dropping my case onto my bed, along with my backpack.
“I got you the contact details for Joyce. She was transferred to Liverpool.”
“Convenient,” I murmur, though I’m glad she’s safe.
“That’s not all. After our last call, I couldn’t stop thinking about the missing statement and the cop we can’t account for that visited the house and was seen in the alley. If we can figure out who that is, we can find out who has been giving the gang a heads up. You’re not going to like this, but the case, the reporter, and maybe the alley cop, all have one thing in common.”
Dread fills my stomach because I know where this is going. “Rob.”
“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but yes. He must be the leak in the department, and my guess is, he went and threatened Rita Jones, which caused her to have a heart attack.” He lets out a heavy sigh, sounding exhausted. “You need to talk to Beau, get him up to speed.”
I pace back and forth along the knitted red and brown rug. “I don’t believe it.”
“Hayden, all of this is leading back to him. I’ve searched through all the databases to see who has logged on to access the online files and his log in is used frequently.”
“Because he’s one of the lead officers on this case, Liam. What about paper files? Anyone could get their hands on them.”
“It’s because he’s lead officer that I believe he’s our guy. He’s in a position where he’s informed of what is happening and has the means to alter evidence.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, letting out a breath. “I’ve gotten to know him. I’ve spoken to him at great lengths about this case. He’s genuinely upset about Christina. He wants her murderer caught and I think he’s still struggling on whether it’s for justice or vengeance,” I explain. “I can hear how much of a toll this case is taking on him each time something else happens. The other day, a woman was raped and beaten. What’s next? Another murder? Rob isn’t the kind of person to cover up heinous crimes. I won’t believe it until I get proof.”
“Okay, say he is innocent, someone is still informing the gang. They have a dozen or so officers who are on file because they were the ones first on scene. There are three superior’s, which include Rob, Colin Fisher and their boss, Jamie Walker.”
“So all we need to do is break the list down,” I murmur.
“Yes, but it’s hard to do when we don’t know who this gang is. We can’t link any of them to that gang until we know who we’re looking for.”