Page 16 of Ranger Devotion

Dylan McCrae was one of their classmates. He and Preston had been inseparable, and at seventeen, Dylan wouldn’t have hesitated to lie for Preston. Would he still? Tate had no idea how close the two men were anymore. “What time did you leave this cabin to go back to yours?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a little after 11:30.”

He still could’ve killed Kayla. Preston had a temper. Tate had never seen him manhandle a woman, but given the right circumstances…If Kayla had threatened to tell Preston’s fiancée about what happened…if she got physical with him…yeah, Tate could see Preston reacting badly.

Preston’s phone chimed. He glanced at the screen and swore under his breath. “I gotta call her, man. She’s upset.”

Tate straightened. He’d gotten enough for now. None of them were going anywhere, and with bad weather coming in, he needed to prioritize processing the crime scene. “Let’s go.”

They stepped back outside. A small group had gathered at the edge of the path leading toward the activity center. Shock, grief, and morbid curiosity marked their faces. Annie was holding them back, but Caleb spotted Preston and broke away.

“What did you do?” Caleb crossed the distance in four strides and shoved Preston hard enough to rock him. “What did you do to her?”

Like a volcano, Preston erupted, shoving Caleb several paces back. “I didn’t do anything, Riggins.”

“You killed her!”

They were seconds away from becoming an all-out brawl. Tate got between the two men. “Stop.”

Caleb ignored him. “You selfish, stupid⁠—”

Preston cursed and tried to step around Tate. Evan rushed in, grabbing Preston’s arm, while Tate flattened a hand dead center of Caleb’s chest. Caleb’s body vibrated with fury, his hands balled into fists. In high school, he’d been scrawny. Not anymore. His shoulders were nearly as broad as Tate’s, and although he was a full head shorter, he was packed with muscle.

Evan steered Preston away. Caleb tried to move around Tate, but Tate blocked him again.

“Calm down, Caleb.” Tate’s tone brooked no argument.

Tears filmed Caleb’s eyes. “He never cared about her. He used her. And now she’s dead.”

He crumpled. Tate’s hand held him up. Caleb’s cabin sat in plain sight of the log where Kayla had been lying all night. Whatever he’d seen, whatever he’d heard, Tate needed it. But a raindrop hit his cheek. He gritted his teeth and looked up at the darkening sky. They were running out of time. “Go to the main lodge with the others. Stay away from Preston. I’ll be there soon to talk to you.”

Caleb sucked in a breath. “He killed her, Tate.”

“Do you know that for certain?”

“Who else would it be?” He broke away and marched toward the path leading to the lodge, passing Annie with barely a glance.

Another icy raindrop struck Tate’s face as he turned back toward Kayla’s body. Preston was the obvious suspect. He’d been with Kayla. They’d fought. He’d left her alone and vulnerable. But Tate’s gaze caught on the purple garland, on the Raven Hills pennant clutched in her stiff fingers.

Preston had been drunk, angry, and impulsive. This murder was calculated. Staged. Personal in a way that went beyond a lover’s quarrel.

Whoever killed Kayla hadn’t acted in rage.

They’d been planning this.

The real question was why?

EIGHT

Annie closed the door on the massive walk-in fridge that’d cost her a fortune to purchase and have installed. She didn’t think there was enough bleach in the world to clean it after keeping a dead body inside. But what else could they do? They’d wrapped Kayla in a sheet, and then a tarp, duct-taping it closed to preserve whatever evidence they could.

She pressed her back against the cold metal door and let out a shaky breath. Despite their history, the finality of that closing door hit harder than she’d expected. Kayla had been vain, selfish, and cruel, but she’d also been human. Had dreams. A life. Family who would grieve her.

“Are you okay?” Tate watched her from across the room.

She nodded. “Yeah. This just wasn’t on my bingo card for the year, you know?” She pressed her finger to the keypad, and the locks snicked closed. A red light glowed on the control panel. She faced him. “And it’s selfish to be worried about this, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at this fridge the same way again.”

“Yeah.” Tate’s face was grim. He gestured to the keypad. “Mind if I verify my fingerprint will unlock it?”