but she was right. He remembered she’d argued this point fiercely when Alex insisted on putting the system in.
“I just don’t understand. Why would anyone try to rob me? Everyone knows I don’t have a lot of money or jewelry or anything else of value.”
“I agree, it doesn’t make sense,” Rafe admitted.
Kayla worried her lower lip between her teeth and he wished there was some way to reassure her he’d keep her safe. “I keep coming back to that strange guest I had, Greg Landrum. He rented a room from me last weekend.”
He raised a brow curiously. She hadn’t mentioned the guy when they spoke the other day. “Why was he strange?”
She lifted her shoulder. “Little things about him were odd. Like he claimed he had come to hike, but his hiking boots were brand-new and gave him blisters. He didn’t have warm winter outdoor gear, either. I heard him making noise in his room in the middle of the night, and when I asked him about it the next morning, he claimed he had trouble sleeping.”
“What did he look like?” Rafe asked.
“I don’t know, in his mid-thirties maybe, with dishwater-blond hair. He had weasly eyes.”
Weasly eyes? “Was that what bothered you? His eyes?”
She frowned. “Maybe. Clyde didn’t like him, either. He barked and growled at him all the time. I guess the strangest thing of all was that I saw him down at the lakefront the day Brianna and I found the body.” She looked troubled as she gazed at him. “Rafe, do you think it’s possible he’s targeted me for some reason?”
Greg Landrum. Would be worth putting his name through their database to see what popped. “Maybe, but again, it doesn’t make sense that he would come back after he’d already been a guest here. He would know there weren’t a lot of valuables here, wouldn’t he?”
Unless he was looking for something that only had value to him. But what?
“Yes, you’re right.” She gave a dejected sigh. “Maybe the deputy was right, that this was nothing more than a random attempt. I don’t live in town, but it’s possible someone saw the article in the paper and figured I had something here worth stealing.”
“Article?” he echoed sharply. “What article?”
She grimaced. “I did an interview for the Green Bay Gazette about two weeks ago. The editor is a friend of Ellen’s and did the interview as a favor.”
He hadn’t seen the article and her theory was plausible. He wanted to link everything back to Schroeder, but he could be overreacting. It was possible her break-in had been a random attack. “Do you have a copy?”
“I have several,” she responded dryly. “Everyone in town saved one for me. I’ll be right back.”
He watched her disappear into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with the folded newspaper in hand. Must have been some favor, or a really slow news day, because her picture was plastered on the front page of the lifestyle section. Kayla looked beautiful, her smile a little sad, as she stood in the kitchen. He noticed there was another glossy picture on the wall behind her in the photo. This one showed Kayla and her husband standing down at the marina in front of a charter fishing boat. He scanned the article. It briefly mentioned Kayla’s husband, Jeremy, had finished building the B and B in the months before he died. But otherwise, the article was all about Kayla and her renowned breakfast pastries.
“Nice article,” he murmured. Broaching the subject of her dead husband for the first time, he raised his gaze to meet hers. “I’m sorry for your loss, Kayla.”
“Thank you.”
He knew it wasn’t really any of his business, but he couldn’t help adding, “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. I don’t think I would have been able to cope if not for my faith. God’s strength and love helped me through the grief.”
“Your faith?” Her gaze darted to the cross he always wore around his neck, a gift from his mother after his wife and unborn child had died. “Now you sound like Alex and Shelby. Alex has changed a lot since meeting Shelby. And he seems very happy.”
“Does that surprise you?”
She flushed again and glanced away. “A little. But in a good way. He’s a better person now that he’s met Shelby. They’ve invited me to attend church with them, but weekends tend to be my busiest time. At least, when I actually have guests,” she amended.
“I understand. When I’m out on the water and attending service isn’t an option, I just find a few minutes of quiet time to pray or maybe read my Bible.”
“I’ve never read the Bible,” Kayla murmured. “To be honest, I have trouble understanding why God would take my husband away so young.”
“Sometimes it is difficult to understand God’s plan. Reading the Bible can help. The book of Psalms is my favorite. ‘The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit.’ That quote is from Psalm 40:1.”
“Sounds beautiful,” Kayla said thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll think about it. Might be interesting to see what has Alex so enthralled.”
He wanted to offer to attend church with her, but sensed she wasn’t quite ready. Besides, being at church with Kayla would feel like having a family.
Friends, he reminded himself. They were just friends.
Kayla tapped the newspaper article, her attention centered once again on the burglary attempt. “Do you think this article is the cause of the break-in?”
“Maybe,” he said, but he didn’t really think so. The odd guest she’d had was more concerning. “I think we’ll do some digging on Greg Landrum. The fact that he was down at the lakefront when you and Brianna were there bothers me.”
Kayla frowned and shivered. “He bothered me, too. I really wanted Clyde with us down there to help keep him away. Which reminds me, did you find out the identity of the victim yet?”
He let out a long breath. This was the moment he’d been dreading. He slowly nodded and reached out to take her hand in his, sure she’d be shocked when he told her the news. “Kayla, the victim you found happens to be someone you know. We’ve identified him as Bill Schroeder.”
Kayla blanched, unable to believe she’d heard him correctly. “Bill? Dead? Are you sure?”
“I’m sorry, but yes. We’re sure. The police are notifying his next of kin as we speak.”
“H-how did he die?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“His skull was cracked and he was dead before he fell in the water.” Rafe’s expression was full of compassion. “You need to know, the medical examiner believes he might have been murdered.”
She gasped, images from the lakefront scene flashing before her eyes. The red shirt bobbing in the water had been Bill Schroeder. And he’d been murdered? How? Why? “But I just saw him a week and a half ago.”
Rafe tightened his fingers around her hand. “I know. You mentioned that the other
