She gave a shake of her head. No. It wasn’t a malignant force. It was a human with a pathological need to kill. And if they didn’t discover whoever it was and stop them, the deaths would continue.
“This has to end,” she told her companion in sharp tones.
Clay sent her a confused glance. “Beg pardon?”
“Release Nate.” She reached out to grab his arm, willing to plead if necessary. “He’s the only one with the skills to discover who is responsible for this madness.”
He gently pulled out of her tight grasp, his expression wary. “That’s not my call, Ms. Guthrie. The sheriff seems pretty determined to lock him up for some crime.”
“You know he’s innocent. Even Gary Clark knows he’s innocent.”
“The sheriff . . .” Clay allowed his words to trail away, lifting his hands in a gesture of defeat.
“What?”
“He’s under a lot of pressure,” Clay forced himself to explain. “Now’s not the time to aggravate him.”
Ellie snorted. She didn’t believe it was pressure that made Gary Clark want to lock up Nate. It was plain jealousy. She also didn’t doubt that the sheriff wasn’t stupid enough to try and slap a murder charge on him.
Still, he had a lot of weapons to keep Nate in jail if he wanted.
“Meaning he’ll keep Nate locked up on some petty charge just because he doesn’t like him,” she said in accusing tones.
Clay flushed. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The deputy heaved a sigh. “Go home, Ms. Guthrie,” he said, echoing the words of his boss. “It’ll be a while before the sheriff returns.”
Ellie clenched her hands into tight fists. This was no longer about an innocent man sitting in a holding cell just because a local lawman had his nose out of joint. There was someone out there hunting the citizens of Curry.
Someone had to stop them and she couldn’t do it alone.
“We’ll see about that,” she warned, pivoting on her heel to head down the hallway.
“Ms. Guthrie,” Clay called out.
Ellie ignored the deputy, picking up speed as she jogged down the staircase and out of the building. She blinked at the blinding sunlight that was a tangible reminder of just how many hours had been wasted trying to convince Gary Clark to come to his senses.
She was done being nice.
It was time to call in the big guns.
Angling across the patches of ground that would eventually be covered in grass, Ellie crossed to the corner where she’d left Nate’s pickup.
After the sheriff had pulled his gun and cuffed Nate, they’d insisted on driving him to town in the official SUV. As if Nate was going to make a run for it. Ellie had jumped in the truck and followed just inches from the bumper. She wanted the sheriff to know that she was there, and that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Once they were at the courthouse, she’d left the truck parked on the street. She’d completely forgotten that during Barb’s funeral Nate had locked his cell phone and handgun in the glove compartment. Her focus had been on doing her job. That meant keeping her client from opening his mouth, and making sure he wasn’t railroaded by the sheriff or his deputies.
Only when she’d been faced with the absolute certainty that unless she got Nate out of jail, someone else was going to die had she been struck by inspiration.
Or was it desperation?
She shrugged. It didn’t matter.
She dug the keys out of her purse as she reached the truck. Pulling open the passenger door, she glanced around to ensure there was no one lurking around. The square was empty. She didn’t know if the citizens were all at church, or if they were gathered around Walter’s burning house, but right now her only interest was making her call without anyone interrupting her.
Unlocking the glove compartment, she pulled out the handgun and carefully laid it on the front seat. She briefly thought about shoving it into the waistband of her skirt. She didn’t like guns, but she wasn’t stupid. The very air hummed with a sense of danger. It couldn’t hurt to be armed.
Of course, she didn’t know a damned thing about pistols. Including whether it was loaded, or if there was a safety that she had to release. It was just as likely she’d end up shooting her own foot rather than the bad guy.
Ignoring the weapon, Ellie reached back into the glove compartment. She located his phone that had slipped between the folds of the tattered owner’s manual. Turning it on, she was relieved to discover he hadn’t put in a passcode.
She hesitated, knowing that Nate might be angry with her decision. Then, squaring her shoulders, she scrolled through his contacts. She found his mother’s name and pressed the screen to call her.
The older woman answered on the second ring, her voice bright and cheerful.
“Ms. Marcel, this is Ellie Guthrie,” she said in a breathless voice, feeling awkward talking to the woman who might someday decide she wasn’t good enough for her son. She quashed the ridiculous thought and concentrated on why she’d contacted the older woman. “I’m a friend of Nate’s and I need your help.”
Five minutes later she ended the call, satisfied that Ms. Marcel understood what she needed. In fact, if Gary Clark wasn’t such an ass, she would almost feel sorry for him. Trying to decide whether to return to the courthouse or wait in her office, she was distracted by the shiny Rolls-Royce that drove slowly past her.
Her father. Had he been searching for her in the hopes that he could force her to return to Oklahoma City with him? Or did he have a more nefarious reason for cruising the streets of Curry?
The car turned the corner near Nate’s building, pulling to the curb. Ellie grimaced. He’d clearly caught sight of her and was waiting for her to come and speak with him.
It was the last thing she wanted to do. She was tired, scared, and in dire need of a shower. Not at all in the right frame of mind to argue with Judge Guthrie.
Unfortunately, she knew her father too well. He wasn’t going to leave until he’d said whatever it was he had to say. End of story. Plus, she had a few questions she wanted to ask him.
Stiffening her spine, Ellie tossed the phone on the seat with the gun and slammed shut the door. She’d return as soon as she was done talking to her father to lock everything up. For now, she could keep an eye on the truck from across the street.
She headed toward the car at a brisk pace, rounding the corner and halting next to the passenger door as the window was buzzed down. Leaning forward, she prepared to warn her father she was staying in Curry.
The words never left her parted lips.
She hadn’t even managed to glance through the open window when pain exploded in her brain. It started at the back, as if someone had used a baseball bat to smash in her skull and swiftly radiated through her head and down her spine. Her teeth clenched, weird lights dancing in front of her eyes before they were rolling back. At the same time her legs suddenly felt like soggy noodles, refusing to hold up her weight.
A setup. It had to be.
Someone had been waiting for her with every intention of knocking her unconscious.
She tried to scream for help as she collapsed onto the sidewalk, but nothing emerged but a low grunt. She tried again, but her throbbing head smacked against the concrete and everything went blessedly dark.
* * *
Nate had been in trouble before. When he was young it was natural that he would rebel against his father. And the best way to do that was to break the law that the older man was sworn to uphold.
It’d never been serious. A party where there was underage drinking. Sneaking out after curfew. A rock thrown through the bedroom window of the jerk who’d given him a black eye at school.
And on one memorable occasion he’d taken his father’s motorcycle for a joyride. The older man had been angry enough to have his young son tossed into a cell at the county jail for a few hours. He’d intended to teach Nate a lesson.
He’d succeeded. The ti
me had dragged like molasses for Nate and he’d sworn to himself that he would never, ever end up in a cell again.
He’d managed to keep that promise until last night.
This time, however, he wasn’t angry at having his freedom stolen. Or even the fact that he was being punished for a crime he didn’t commit. He was furious that he was separated from Ellie. How the hell was he supposed to protect her when he was locked in a cramped room that was designated as the holding cell?
If something happened to her, he was going to hold Sheriff Clark personally responsible. And the man would suffer.
They would all suffer.
His dark thoughts were finally interrupted when the door was abruptly pulled open. He stormed forward, surprised to find it was the sheriff. He’d expected a deputy to take him back to the interrogation room. He glanced over the man’s shoulder, his gut twisting when he didn’t see Ellie.
“Where’s Ms. Guthrie?” he demanded.
“She isn’t here.” The sheriff’s words were clipped, his face screwed up like he’d just swallowed a lemon. “Follow me.”
Nate allowed the man to lead him through the jumbled maze of rooms that had served as the county jail until the new facility had been built.
“You can’t question me without my lawyer.”
Gary climbed the steps that led them out of the basement to the first floor. He turned to enter the official sheriff’s office and moved to the reception desk that was currently empty.
“I’m releasing you.” The man turned to shove a small box in Nate’s hand.
Nate stiffened. This was the last thing he expected. Was it some trick? Some idiotic attempt to play good cop and lure him into saying something he shouldn’t when his lawyer wasn’t around to stop him?
He wouldn’t put it past the man.
“Why?” he demanded.
“You wanna stay in jail?”
“Did you discover who killed Dr. Booker?” Nate pressed. It still felt like a trap.
Gary sent him a jaundiced glare. “I think it was you.”
“Then why aren’t you charging me with murder?”
The sheriff pointed toward the old-fashioned phone on the desk.
“In the past twenty minutes I’ve received five phone calls that included threats from the FBI, the Justice Department, and the Chicago Police Department.” His lips twisted with a bitter humor. “It must be nice to have friends in high places.”
Ah. Now that made sense. Obviously Ellie had decided to contact one of his brothers. Or maybe his parents. It was something he would have done if worse had come to worst, but he hated the thought they would now be worried about him.
Still, he couldn’t deny a flare of pleasure that Ellie had reached out to the Marcels. She clearly knew that they could be depended on to solve their problems.
“Actually it’s nice to have a family who loves me,” he said, pulling the top off the box to retrieve his belongings.
“Whatever,” Gary muttered, watching with obvious impatience as Nate bent down to pull on his shoes and then threaded his belt around his waist. It wasn’t until Nate had tucked his wallet in his back pocket that the sheriff continued. “If I decide to charge you with murder, not even the president will be able to stop me.”
Nate resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he glanced toward the hallway, where he heard the sounds of footsteps passing by. He only caught a quick glance at the two men, but it was enough to determine that they were strangers. And that they were both wearing jackets with official titles embroidered on the back.
He turned back to the sheriff. “Fire investigation?”
Gary hunched a shoulder, his face suddenly revealing the strain the past few days had taken on him.
“Walter Perry’s house caught fire this morning.”
Nate hissed in shock. When he’d been hustled down to the holding cell he’d assumed that it was a ploy to try and rattle him. As if an FBI agent didn’t know all the tricks of interrogating a suspect. Now he realized that the sheriff had yet another disaster on his plate.
“How bad?”
“Burned to the ground.” The words were clipped, trying to give nothing away.
“Was Walter inside?”
“That’s classified information.”
Meaning he was inside. No reason to hide the fact if the onetime sheriff had survived.
Silently he ticked off the names. Daniel. Barb. Mandy. Larry. Dr. Booker. And now Walter.
Someone was picking them off one by one. So who was next? Neville Morse? The mayor? Colin Guthrie?
His mouth went dry, a sudden urgency pounding through his body.
“There’s no message from Ellie?” he asked, his voice harsh. “She wouldn’t have left without telling someone where she was going.”
The sheriff scowled. “This isn’t your secretarial service. You want to know where she is, then call her.”
Nate instinctively reached into the pocket of his slacks before remembering that he’d left his cell phone in the truck during the funeral. Had Ellie driven it to town? Yes, he’d glanced out of the back of the SUV to see her following them. She’d been close enough for him to see her grim expression.
Without bothering to ask the sheriff if he could go, Nate headed out of the office and down the stairs. Distantly he could hear the chatter of the visiting fire inspectors, but he didn’t need them to know the cause of the fire was arson.
And that Walter had been murdered.
Once outside, he walked around the courthouse, spotting his truck parked at the back. He paused, sucking in a deep breath at the sight of it. Surely it meant that Ellie was nearby? Probably at her office.
Deciding to grab his phone before going in search of her, Nate jogged forward, pulling open the door of the truck. It was only then he remembered that Ellie had the key. Damn. He couldn’t get into his glove compartment.
The thought had barely formed when his gaze landed on the phone that had been left on the seat. Along with his gun.
The fear he’d momentarily eased blasted through him. Ellie might have left his phone lying in plain sight. Curry wasn’t usually a hotbed of crime. But she would never have been so careless with his gun. Not when a child might have come along and gotten their hands on it.
Which meant . . . what?
He didn’t know.
Nate grabbed the cell phone and scrolled to her number. He hit the screen, and held it to his ear. He impatiently tapped his foot as he heard her phone ringing before it switched to her automated message telling him to leave his name and number.
Cursing beneath his breath, Nate shoved the phone in his pocket before reaching for his handgun. With a quick efficiency, he ensured that it was still loaded and the safety was on. Then he tucked it in the waistband of his slacks and pulled his sweater over it.
He slammed shut the door and rounded the back of his truck. The square was eerily silent as he jogged down the street. There was no traffic, no pedestrians, and all the businesses were locked up tight. It only increased Nate’s unease.
Picking up speed, he jumped the curb and aimed directly for the door to Ellie’s office. He grabbed the handle, not surprised to find it locked. A glance through the glass door revealed the reception area was shrouded in darkness. That didn’t mean she wasn’t in the back.
Not bothering to knock, Nate retraced his steps to the end of the sidewalk, turning the corner so he could approach through the alley. Instinctively, his hand reached beneath his sweater to grasp the butt of his gun. This was a perfect spot for an ambush.
He climbed over the hedges that surrounded Ellie’s back patio and moved to peer into her window. His heart sank to his toes. Empty.
Where the hell was she?
Nate pressed his back against the building and forced himself to quash the rising panic. Right now he had to think like an FBI agent, not a man whose lover was missing. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine Ellie waiting for him at the courthouse. She’d been there for hours, sitting
at his side as he was interrogated. Then the sheriff had hauled him to the holding cell.
From there she’d gone to his truck to use his phone, where something must have startled her. Or . . .
No. He wasn’t going to allow himself to think the worst.
Not yet.
He formed the picture of Ellie standing next to his truck, the silence of the square around her. Then abruptly his eyes snapped open. The town was quiet now, but it hadn’t been a few hours ago. There must have been sirens blaring and people scurrying toward Walter Perry’s burning house. The only reason he hadn’t heard was because he was locked in that damned basement.
Pushing away from the building, Nate crossed the patio and bounded over the hedge before running down the alley at top speed.
At the street, he turned to head away from the square, weaving his way through backyards and the crowded church parking lot before he at last turned the corner to see Walter’s house.
He grimaced. The brick home hadn’t burned to the ground, but it was close. The roof was gone, along with the windows and the front door, leaving behind an empty shell. The bricks were charred to an ugly black and soot was drifting over the front yard like gruesome flecks of snow. An acrid stench clung to the air, coating Nate’s tongue and seeping into his skin. It was overpowering enough to make him gag.
He shuddered, turning his back on the house. There was nothing he could do for Walter. It was too late for the retired sheriff. Instead he studied the crowd gathered behind the police tape.
There were fewer than a dozen onlookers. No doubt the majority had dispersed along with the fire trucks and ambulance. It wasn’t like there was anything to see beyond the destroyed house. Which meant that it was easy to determine that Ellie wasn’t there.
Pretending he didn’t see the waves from several in the crowd, Nate spun on his heel and retraced his steps. The last place he knew Ellie had been was the courthouse. Which meant that was where he needed to start his search.
He was jogging past the barbershop when he caught sight of Leland arranging a display in the front window. On impulse, he doubled back and pushed open the door. The older man glanced at him in surprise.
You Will Suffer Page 27