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The warmth of the interior was a welcome respite from the cold. A small fire was flickering behind a pane of glass, and the gas fireplace was a nice added touch that she would be sure to spend some time in front of while working on the profile.
“Hey, Boss!” Bit was in the midst of playing an air guitar, but the song was coming to an end. She’d never heard it before, and she didn’t wish to hear it again anytime soon. Light jazz music was her forte, but everyone seemed to have their own preference when it came to music. His fingers wiggled and then stilled when the note was dragged out to the point that it hurt her ears. “I have bad news.”
Bit had transformed the living room into a makeshift conference room. The main table had been positioned behind the couch that faced the fireplace, and the portable monitor had been pushed against the far wall. The screen was lit, and Bella Kabel’s light brown eyes stared back at them since her photograph was front and center. Only Bit’s bad news hadn’t been in connection to the Kadel case.
“I’ve scoured every family member hanging from the branches of the Walsh family tree, and I’m not even coming up with an acorn.” Bit adjusted his knitted grey cap. “I’ve started to research the Farro family. Wren Cary’s maiden name is Farro. There could be a connection between the Farro and Walsh families. I’ve been doing research on living donor transplants, too. Some people just match with others, Boss.”
“Keep looking, Bit,” Brook replied softly as she continued to study her surroundings. According to Arden, there were only three bedrooms. One on the main floor and two smaller ones upstairs. Bit had offered to sleep on the couch in the living room, but that was just because he preferred to be close to his equipment. “I’m going to go put my suitcase into one of the bedrooms.”
“Little T and Big T already claimed the rooms upstairs,” Bit informed her before reaching for his earpods. “Oh, and Boss? The owners of the Airbnb left you a gift in the kitchen. Gumshoe rented this place for a month, and they wanted to show their appreciation.”
Brook figured that the owners of the Airbnb were more interested in the reason behind why their rental property had been needed for an entire month. As Theo had mentioned on Friday, Harbor seemed to be its own little world.
She’d taken her time combing through the information over the weekend. Her main concern had been with the criminal reports obtained from the Kadel case files, but she’d also skimmed over the other data points to have a broader sense of their current investigation.
Brook spotted the basket of assorted chocolates in the middle of the kitchen table right away. It was hard to miss, especially given that the display had three tiers and had been topped off with a gold bow. There were already a few pieces of candy missing, and she couldn’t blame the others for having dived in upon first sight.
Brook set her empty travel mug in the sink as she debated whether or not to have a piece of chocolate herself. She decided to wait until she could brew some coffee.
The kitchen had been attached to a sunroom that gave a picturesque view of the bay with an island separating the two areas. Since there were only two doors to the right and one of them was clearly a bathroom, Brook didn’t have trouble locating the main bedroom. Even better was the bay window filled with blue and cream pillows and matching throw blanket that allowed the renter a peaceful place to read…or work.
Brook didn’t bother to unpack. She simply left her overnight bag next to the bed, while placing her leather bag and purse on the comforter. She then removed her dress coat and laid it on the seat of the bay window. It didn’t take long to collect her cell phone. She’d already stored Lorelei Jameson’s number into her contacts before leaving the office, and she initiated the call to set up another meeting for later this evening.
Oddly enough, the call went directly to voicemail.
For a woman so determined to find her sister’s killer, Lorelei Jameson didn’t see the need to be available for additional questions. Brook left a clipped message for their latest client to call her back. She wouldn’t leave details regarding the team’s arrival in Harbor on a recorded message.
“Boss, we’ve got company,” Bit called out after a soft chime had already echoed throughout the cottage.
Brook exited the bedroom and made her way to the living room.
“I take it that Sylvie and Theo went into town?” Brook inquired to confirm their whereabouts.
“Yeah,” Bit replied as he removed one of his earbuds. “We pulled the tech van into the attached garage. As for our guest, Slick just got out of a police cruiser.”
While Theo, Sylvie, and Bit had all driven into Harbor very early this morning, Detective Caleb Hartley had waited until now to stop by the cottage. Word had traveled fast about Brook’s arrival, and Bit’s nickname for the detective had prepared her for what to expect.
The sharp rap of knuckles on the door was direct without any hesitation.
“Detective Hartley, I presume,” Brook greeted after opening the front door. Instead of inviting him inside, she crossed the threshold and closed the door behind her. Until they understood each other, she wouldn’t grant him access to her team, their equipment, or her profile. “I’m Brooklyn Sloane. You spoke with one of my colleagues last week.”
She now understood Bit’s nickname for the man.
Detective Caleb Hartley had his black hair slicked back without a strand out of place. He was cleanshaven with chiseled features and dark brown eyes. The way he stood in front of her with his hands in the pockets of his black dress coat told of his comfort level. He was arrogant, confident, and it was obvious from his body language that he wasn’t used to people contradicting his orders.
“I didn’t expect you and your team to move into the neighborhood, Ms. Sloane.”
At least he had the courtesy to shake her hand. The fact that she didn’t have a coat on at the moment seemed to perplex him. She gestured toward the side of the house where they could access the back patio with a view of the bay. Her suit jacket wasn’t nearly enough to keep her warm, but she didn’t plan on their conversation taking too long.
“As you know, Mrs. Jameson hired us to investigate her sister’s death.” Brook gritted her teeth against the bitter wind. “My team and I wouldn’t be able to do so properly if we had stayed in D.C. We appreciate you granting us access to your files.”
Detective Hartley had fallen into step with her, and it wasn’t long before they were both standing on the back patio. The deck chairs had already been covered for the winter. There were delicate whistle sounds as the bitter cold air traveled over the bay, carrying with it the calls of the various waterfowls.
“That’s it?” Detective Hartley asked, taking the bait. She hadn’t expected him to fall into the trap so quickly, but that just meant less time that she would have to stand outside freezing to death. “You’re not going to go into how you’re a consultant for the FBI and that you’ll use such power to garner access to my murder investigation from last week?”
“You’re already aware of my firm’s status with the Bureau,” Brook replied evenly as she stood directly in front of him. “We will conduct our investigation as discreetly as possible, and we will do our best not to bother you.”
Detective Hartley seemed to realize that he’d been played with rising to the bait first, but instead of being irritated by the way she’d laid the trap, his lips lifted in amusement.
