Killer Exposure

by Jessica R. Patch

  “I’m staying here,” Locke said. “Indefinitely. You’re not safe. Thirty-minute drive-bys aren’t good enough. And I know a town this small doesn’t have the funds to provide around-the-clock care.”

  Greer threaded her fingers through her hair and breathed deep. She had to know he was right. “It just looks bad.”

  “I don’t care what nosy busybodies think. They’d do the same thing if their lives were in danger. Besides, I imagine the whole town knows you have something going on with that deputy guy.”

  “Adam?” Greer frowned.

  Whatever his name was. Locke was a man. And one man knew when another man was into a woman. By the way Greer hugged him and seemed familiar with him, he had his suspicions that they were an item, or working their way to be one. Which made sense if Greer wanted to be with someone who loved being in law enforcement as much as she did. That wasn’t Locke. It was the first place they’d met—criminal justice classes. The first topic of their conversations. Greer had been excited to be there studying. Anticipated the day she wore the uniform. And Locke had kept silent about his feelings of being forced into the career by family pressures and a big dose of guilt.

  It wasn’t until much later, when he’d shared the truth, but Greer had already offered her whole heart to him. It hadn’t mattered to her that he didn’t want to eventually be a cop—or a dad. But apparently it had.

  “I mean, date him if you want. It’s whatever.” He didn’t want to talk about it. “You’re free to see anyone. I’m only concerned about Lin.” That wasn’t completely true, but he needed to protect himself. “So, he’ll just have to get over the fact that the father of your child is sticking around a while.” What happened when it was time to pack up and leave? What if the killer hadn’t been caught? What about Lin? Too many what-ifs. “What’s the next step?”

  Greer’s phone rang and she answered. “Hey, Adam.”

  Of course. Surely, he was checking in on her. Making sure she was safe.

  “He is.”

  Asking about the baby daddy. She talked a few more minutes, hung up then answered another call. Locke made a pot of coffee. He had nowhere to be until the supercell storm rolled in later this evening. Greer finally entered the kitchen. “Smells good.”

  “What did he have to say?” He poured her a cup and brought it to her at the kitchen table. “You can confide the information to me. I’m not going to the papers or a gossip magazine.” After pouring himself a cup, he sat across from her at the kitchen table while the rain fell like a curtain outside, blurring everything in a muted gray.

  “Our victim is a carny. Tim Maynard. Goes by ‘Tiny.’”

  “Tiny Tim. Are you being serious right now?” Locke chuckled over his sip of coffee.

  “I wouldn’t lie about that.”

  No, she’d just lie about having a baby together. The tension in the room built at Mach speed and they drank their cups of coffee in silence.

  Finally, Locke spoke. “Do they know if the same guy killed him who killed Flip Bomer?”

  “Multiple stab wounds, which match the same kind of blade used on Flip, according to the coroner. No news yet on the trace evidence. We’ve asked for a rush considering the carnival is only in town a week, but that isn’t a guarantee.”

  “Do you need to go back to the carnival? Interview people?” Locke asked.

  “That was the other thing.” Greer scowled. “Sheriff called right after. Says since I’ve been a ‘victim’ more than once—” she used air quotes “—he feels that my investigating is a conflict of interest. So...I’m being kept abreast.”

  Greer was one of the most headstrong women he knew. “You’re just gonna back down, then? Do as you’re told?”

  She snorted and stood. “What do you think?”

  “I think you should call me Watson and expect me to be by your side in every off-duty search or investigation.”

  “And what if that takes place during a storm? One that needs your expertise.”

  That was a good question. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Seemed like they had dozens of bridges to cross. All rickety and unstable. “In the meantime, if you aren’t going back out to the carnival, I’d like to see my daughter again.” It was strange to be so afraid of such a little person—afraid of letting her down—and yet he wanted to be near her at the same time. Crazy.

  Greer nodded and scanned the disaster. “I’ll do this tonight.”

  “I’ll help you.” He couldn’t very well sit here and watch her do it while he did zip. Which brought him back around to later, when he was out photographing. Greer couldn’t be here alone. He wouldn’t let her. He grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter.

  “You don’t have to do that, Locke. But I appreciate it.” The dejectedness and exhaustion in her voice tugged at him, and he closed the distance between them and embraced her, immediately regretting his impulsive decision because having her in his arms unleashed a whirlwind of emotion he told himself he was not going to feel, especially after she’d dropped the bomb on him.

  Greer didn’t wrench away. For a second she bristled, but then she melded against him as if trying to draw some of his own strength into herself. Petite. Delicate. Even fragile. Yet fierce and strong. Brave. What kind of woman took on such a challenging job while trying to raise a baby alone? No family. Her mama had just recently passed. But here she was. Still standing, moving forward, fighting to live another day. How could one man admire a woman who he was absolutely miffed at? Could be that it wasn’t so much anger as heartache. Frustration. Rejection. Confusion.

  And yet he held on tighter. “It’s going to be okay, Greer. Somehow. Some way. It will. Let’s go see Lin. That will make things better.” He’d only seen his baby once, but there was no doubt that she was the sunshine who could bring hope to their cloud-filled day. He only hoped one day she wouldn’t see him as gray clouds in her world.

  “It will,” she whispered and broke away. They grabbed their raincoats and rushed into the heavy rain and gales. Locke opened the truck door for her, then bolted to his side and cranked the engine. Inside, he had specialized gear on the console with satellite mapping and radars. The floorboards were littered with maps and papers.

  “Sorry about the mess.” He switched on a satellite and tracked the storm. “Storm’ll be gone in about an hour or so.”

  Greer studied the monitor. “That’s pretty cool equipment.”

  “It is.” He shared with her some of what they’d been doing. “If the grant money comes through, I’ve been asked to sign on for another two years.”

  Greer stared out the window. Only the sound of the wipers slicing and squeaking across the windshield. “Is that what you want?”

  It was until he’d come here. “I don’t know what I want anymore. I feel caged.”

  Her head snapped up and she looked like she might fall to pieces. “Don’t ever think I’m trying to cage you, Locke. That was the whole point in not telling you about Lin. I’d rather you go and be happy...and free than to try and do the ‘right’ thing.”

  Locke’s words about being caged hadn’t come out right. Decisions had always been tough for him. He had to work at processing his way through them, and the more difficult, the more focus he lost. It was like being caged and then the cage rattling. Too much noise in his head. The decisions caged him, not his daughter. “I’d never shirk my responsibilities, Greer.” Lin was a real-life reality. There was no running away even if a tiny sliver of his heart said it might be the best solution.

  “I know,” she said as he pulled into Tori’s driveway. “But I didn’t want you to have to choose between responsibilities and your freedom.”

  Greer thought Lin was a trap to him. She was so far off base, but then he had basically told Greer that years ago about kids in general. “Greer, I want to give you back pay at the very least.”

  “I don�
��t want your money.”

  No, but she needed it. Now wasn’t the time to argue. She was getting it, come hail or high water. “Will it be dinnertime for her?” It was nearly four. Didn’t babies eat early?

  “She usually eats dinner around five thirty, then a bottle before bed, around eight thirty. She loves to sleep.” She glanced at Locke. “Unlike you.”

  Locke had too much energy to sleep but there were many lazy Sunday afternoons Greer would curl up on a couch or a hammock—wherever they were—and take long naps. He envied her that. But the upside was, he had scads of photos of the sleeping beauty.

  They rushed to the porch and Greer knocked.

  Tori opened the door with Lin on her hip. Dressed in a one-piece blue outfit with little lambs, she was the cutest kid ever. She belonged on the cover of magazines. A little blue bow sat on the side of her thick head of hair. She bounced on Tori’s hip, arms flailing as she laid eyes on her mama. Sheer excitement.

  “Hey, baby girl,” Greer cooed as she took her from Tori and they stepped inside. “You been a good little princess?”

  “She’s been happy as a pig in sunshine,” Tori said. “I have some stuff to do, so I’m gonna make myself scarce.”

  Locke appreciated the privacy. Seemed like Tori was a great friend. “Hey, sweet girl,” he said softly. Lin peered up at him. Would he ever get used to seeing his own reflection in her face? It was overwhelming.

  Lin gave him a somber expression then grinned. Two top and two bottom teeth in a sea of gums and slobber. Slobber had never been more precious. For the next hour and a half, Locke played with his baby girl while Greer answered his endless questions. Then he fed her mixed vegetables and plums from jars, and while it smelled and looked like utter disgust, Lin licked up every bite with squeals that shifted and moved Locke’s heart in places he didn’t even know he had.

  “It’s bath time. Would you like to help with that?” Greer asked.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Bath time was equally as fun as dinnertime, only wetter. By seven, Lin was yawning and fussy, and reached for her mama. Greer hesitated.

  “It’s okay. I always wanted my mama when I was sleepy. Used to crawl up in her lap and let her play with my hair until I fell asleep.” He handed off his daughter to Greer and she sat in one of Tori’s rockers and hummed until Lin fell asleep. Greer placed her in a mesh baby bed in Tori’s bedroom and closed the door.

  “Monitors are on,” she told Tori as she suddenly appeared.

  “She’ll be fine. I love having the little munchkin around. You need anything?”

  “No, I guess we’ll be going,” Greer said and looked longingly toward Tori’s room. To Lin. This separation must be killing her. It just wasn’t safe for them to stay here too. If the killer tracked her somehow it would put Lin, and Tori, in danger. They might be risking too much just visiting, but they were being cautious. Careful. Taking back roads to get to Tori’s and double-checking to make sure no one followed them.

  “Come back for breakfast. Feed her.”

  Greer smiled and hugged Tori. She and Locke stepped out into the night. A little light broke through the clouds, but the storm had let up...until a larger one came in later.

  “Good night for photos. Low-hanging clouds. Bits of scattered light. Windy but not damaging. We could get some great drops blowing from the leaves. You in?” he asked.

  “You asking to keep company or to keep me safe?” Greer asked.

  Good question. He was a mess of emotions. Being with Lin tonight only made things more confusing. The love he felt for her filled him so full, it would be too easy to let it spill out on to Greer. For once, he clamped down on his impulse to tell her that he simply missed them together—partnering. Working. Having fun. Because that might lead to something that wasn’t real. Something that couldn’t be.

  “Safety,” he finally muttered.

  “Okay. I need to get into civilian clothing, then you can follow me to the station to return the patrol car.” After running the errands, Greer rode with Locke.

  “You gonna be all right going back in the woods?”

  “Of course.” She clambered out of the truck and followed him.

  He watched as she retrieved a camera he’d purchased for her. She studied it then brought it to her eye and adjusted the lens like a pro. He ached for old times. Times that were gone like a vapor.

  “You need an extra jacket or anything?” he asked.

  “Nah. I’m good.”

  They entered the woods. “There’s a little clearing about a quarter of a mile back. Sweet spot. Then we can hit a meadow.”

  “The Larkspurs own a big pasture and in spring the weeds grow tall and yellow. I took some pictures of Lin out there a few weekends ago. Be a great place and they won’t mind.” Greer snapped a few photos, readjusted her lens. “I bought some new filter software. It wasn’t expensive, but I can write it off on my taxes so it’s an investment. Unfortunately it was on my laptop with the other editing software.”

  He hated she didn’t have enough to splurge or felt the need to justify extra spending. Now wasn’t the time to bring up writing her a check. That would come across a little cheap—and not in the financial sense. Hey, here’s some cash. See ya next trip.

  “You know, Greer—”

  She shrieked and grabbed her shoulder, then yelped again.

  What in the world?

  “Locke! I’ve been...hit!”

  FIVE

  Locke’s adrenaline kicked in and he dove onto Greer, bringing her to the ground and shielding her. Sticking out of the tree was a knife. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “I—I don’t know. I think just a graze. Stings.” Greer held out her hand. Blood. Locke needed to assess the damage, but someone was out there and using them as target practice. He tore the bottom of his T-shirt and wrapped his hand in it, then plucked the knife from the tree.

  “He’s close. Or he’s remarkably good from a fair distance.” Twenty feet maybe. “Stay low and let’s go.” He pocketed the knife encased in the T-shirt and covered Greer as they made a mad dash through the woods. Moving targets couldn’t be as easy for their assailant. He hoped. Once they made it to the truck, he peeled from the lot. If Greer hadn’t been wounded, Locke would have given chase, but he wasn’t sure about the damage.

  Greer shrugged out of her lightweight jacket and tucked her shirt over her shoulder. “It’s a nick but I don’t think I need stitches. Burns like all get-out, though.” Her breathing was shallow and her cheeks were bleached. Locke reached over and covered her ice-cold hand with his. “I’m sorry.” He’d promised to protect her and she’d been wounded. Proof he was a failure all over again.

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” She shuddered and touched her shoulder. “Can I see that knife?”

  Locke slipped the wrapped weapon from his pocket and handed it to her. She opened up the T-shirt and stared at it. “Twelve-inch blade?”

  “I think so.” He’d gotten a pretty good look. Nylon-wrapped handle that blended with the blade. “It’s a throwing knife, Greer. For impalement. Those are finger holes at the bottom to help with slinging. Someone knew exactly what they were doing. If it wasn’t windy...”

  She shuddered at his implication. He might not have missed. He’d come close. Too close.

  “They have a wheel of death at the carnival. A knife impaler,” Greer said.

  “Have they interviewed him yet? Have you?”

  “I haven’t. We have over one hundred employees to work through and the deputies have been diligent. It frustrates me that I can’t fully do my job, and after this stunt...I’ll be fortunate if they even let me near evidence. I need to take this to the station. Enter it. All the protocol.”

  “We need to get that wound cleaned up.”

  “They have first-aid kits at the station. Unless you have to go.”

 
“I have some time.” He drove her to the sheriff’s station—a small brick square with an equal sized and shaped parking lot. Less than ten patrol cars were in the lot. Some personal vehicles lined the street. “Do y’all even have the manpower to handle this case?” he asked. “I can make one call to my sister—or Wilder—and have either one of them out here and on it.” Wilder, his cousin, owned a world-renowned private security company and his sister, who had once been in the military and the Secret Service, now worked for him. “He followed us from the house. Which means we have to be way more careful and take even more extreme measures, especially where Lin is concerned.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” Greer rubbed her temples. “As far as calling in your sister, I think we can do our jobs, Locke. We aren’t hillbillies.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I’m only saying they have high-powered equipment and their computer analyst—Wheezer—is a force to be reckoned with, and so is my brother-in-law, Evan.”

  Greer winced and shook her head. “First off, what do we need an analyst for? We have nothing to dig into.”

  “Not true. He can turn up stuff that background checks can’t. He could probably find something on Flip Bomer. Tiny Tim.” He laughed. “I can’t even say that with a serious face.”

  Chuckling, Greer folded the knife back into the strip of T-shirt. “Thanks for thinking of this.” She held up the encased evidence.

  “I may not want to be a cop, but I can’t deny I bleed blue and know a thing or two, minus watching the police dramas on TV.” He clambered out of the truck and she paused. “I’m going in. I was a witness. They’ll want a statement. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything smart to the boyfriend, but fair warning—he would be wise not to say something smart to me.” It rankled that she was seeing someone—or in the early stages of it—but it shouldn’t.

  “Locke...” Greer heaved a sigh. “Just...come on.”

  He followed her inside the station and remained quiet as colleagues and friends saw to her needs, cleaned her up and asked questions. Only when he was asked questions did he speak. The boyfriend wasn’t around. There was a small sliver of satisfaction in that. He followed her to her desk, which was butted up against another.