The Killing Moon

by Dan Padavona

  Aguilar clenched her jaw. Some people clung to their rights. Others considered it a badge of honor to act difficult.

  “We both understand no judge will grant me a warrant for the footage. Not in a timely manner.”

  “Then our conversation is finished. Good day, Deputy.”

  “This man kidnapped and tortured two women from Wolf Lake. He’s desperate for money.” Aguilar ran her gaze over the sparkling jewelry beneath the glass display cases. “Hitting a place like this would solve his financial issues in a hurry.”

  A vein pulsed in Schuman’s neck.

  “Fine. I’ll show you to the back room where I keep the recordings. You have fifteen minutes. After that, I’m phoning the sheriff.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And don’t bother my customers.”

  What customers? Places like Schuman Jewelers only needed one fool to wander off the street and overpay for a necklace or engagement ring.

  Schuman led Aguilar to a closet-sized room with a computer monitor fixed to the wall. The woman pushed a rolling chair to Aguilar and closed the door on the deputy without asking. Aguilar didn’t mind. She wanted to study the footage without Schuman staring over her shoulder. One eye on her notes, the other perusing the footage, the deputy didn’t expect Benson to walk across the picture.

  So it shocked her when he did.

  The digital clock in the lower right corner read ten-twenty-one when a gray-haired, muscular man in a gray hooded sweatshirt walked past the florist’s shop. He’d shaved off the mustache and pulled the hood around his face, making it difficult to recognize the fugitive. But Aguilar spotted him. She sat forward and paused the video. What was he doing?

  It occurred to Aguilar Benson stood a block from Ellie Fisher’s apartment. Had he returned to ransom off the woman he’d kidnapped?

  She restarted the video. The former owner of Benson’s Barbells merged with the crowd. Aguilar lost sight of him until he crossed the road, jogging to dodge traffic. Then he vanished.

  Aguilar paused the video and noted the time. She needed another security camera view.

  She clicked play and sat back, hoping against hope the fugitive would reappear on camera. After another minute ticked past, she gave up on finding him.

  Until a red Mitsubishi Mirage shot off the curb and cut off a Volvo. She couldn’t see the driver. But her instincts told her Benson was behind the wheel.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  October 31st

  12:35 p.m.

  The line inside the sandwich shop stretched halfway to the door. Thomas lifted himself onto his toes and read the menu for the fifth time, fixated on memorizing Presley’s order. A turkey avocado BLT sandwich on a croissant roll. Tomatoes and lettuce. Hold the onion. That was a mouthful to remember, and he kept confusing Presley’s order with his own. He swung his head around and spied the cruiser parked along the curb. The detective was on the radio with the Kane Grove PD dispatcher while Thomas grabbed them lunch.

  The sandwich shop catered to health-conscious connoisseurs in their twenties and thirties. Most everyone in line pressed a phone to an ear or sent texts. Someone’s phone rang, blasting out a Daft Punk song. As the crowd pushed against each other, a woman at the counter grabbed a microphone and said, “Order twenty-nine is ready at the pickup window. Straws and napkins are located beside the salad bar.”

  A bear of a man bumped him from behind, noticed the uniform, and apologized.

  “Not a problem,” Thomas said, touching the brim of his hat. “Is it always this busy in here?”

  “The place empties after one. It’s the lunch rush. I tell myself I’ll never come between noon and one, yet here I am. Some people never learn. Hey, you’re that new sheriff, aren’t you?”

  “Sheriff Shepherd.”

  “Right. I read about you. Is it true you have…um…that you overcame…”

  “Asperger’s, yes.”

  The man’s face reddened. He cleared his throat and shifted his feet.

  “It’s great they let people like you…oh, damn. I’m doing it again. My mother always says I talk too much about things I don’t understand. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  “Nope.”

  “Anyhow, you’re doing an outstanding job.” He cupped a hand beside his mouth and leaned toward Thomas. “Don’t get the lunch special. It’s cheaper to buy the drink and sandwich separately. All you’re doing is paying an extra two dollars for potato chips and a stale cookie.”

  Thomas nodded and took two steps forward as the line thinned. He realized he hadn’t decided what he wanted to eat when his phone rang. Lambert.

  Deputy Lambert’s shift began at noon and ran until midnight, a modified swing shift with four hours of overtime baked in. The department was stretched thin between the Benson escape and the unsolved murder. He needed all hands on deck until they solved both cases. Standing two inches over six feet, Lambert sported a military haircut and chiseled physique. The deputy grew up in Minnesota before joining the U.S. Army. After the military, he applied for the open deputy position under Sheriff Gray at the Nightshade County Sheriff’s Department. Though Lambert worked as hard as anyone in the department, he’d built a reputation as a prankster. Last April, after Thomas joined the department as a deputy, Lambert convinced Thomas to ask Deputy Aguilar to the Magnolia Dance. Realizing Aguilar intimidated men, Lambert wondered how the recruit would react to a night on the town with the muscular, headstrong woman. The evening concluded prematurely after Chelsey’s former boyfriend, Ray Welch, insulted Aguilar and picked a fight with Thomas. Welch ended up face-down in an arm lock, while Lambert, charged with keeping the peace, stood over Thomas and snickered.

  “Hey, Sheriff. I got that information you wanted on Leland Trivett.”

  Thomas shifted so the man crowding him from behind couldn’t listen in on the conversation.

  “What did you find out?”

  “Trivett is eighteen, a senior at Barton Falls High School. Kid isn’t in any clubs or on a sports team. He lost his license for six months last January on a MIP charge.” An MIP was a minor-in-possession charge. “Otherwise, he seems clean. No violent offenses.”

  “Makes sense. Derek Jordan’s parents verified their kid smoked pot with Trivett. The father assumes he was into more than marijuana.”

  “Hard drugs?”

  “That was the implication.”

  “Maybe Jordan struck a deal by the train tracks, and the dealer stabbed him, took his money, and kept the stash.”

  “Derek Jordan didn’t have a wallet on him, so the theory seems plausible.”

  “You think Trivett killed him? Get a kid high, and there’s no telling how he’ll react. Might have hallucinated and gone crazy.”

  Thomas peeked over his shoulder. The bear-like man glanced away to feign disinterest.

  “Seven stab wounds to the chest suggest the murder was personal.”

  “All the more reason to interrogate Jordan’s friends.”

  “Agreed. At one, I’m heading to the high school with Detective Presley to interview Trivett.”

  “What would you like me to do in the interim?”

  Thomas brushed the hair out of his eyes. He took another step closer to the order window after a mustached man in a baseball cap took his order and strode away from the counter.

  “Jordan’s mother gave me a list of kids Derek hung out with. I’ll send you a photo.”

  “I’ll check into the friends and see if anything unusual turns up. Anything else?”

  “Yeah. Do you have Raven Hopkins’s cell?”

  “She’s on my contact list.”

  “Call her. She’s running around Wolf Lake and Kane Grove by herself, searching for Mark Benson.”

  “Want me to join her after I run through the list?”

  “Have her hook up with Aguilar. She’s already in the area. Just make sure Raven stays put and doesn’t do anything stupid before Aguilar gets there.”

  “I’m on it, Sheriff.”


  Thomas carried the food to Deputy Presley’s cruiser and handed her the bag through the window.

  “Thank you, I’m starving,” she said. She raised her pointer finger. “Oh. While you grabbed lunch, I took your advice and ran a background check on Cole Jordan.”

  “The father.”

  Presley’s brow shot up.

  “Stepfather, to be exact. Derek Jordan’s biological father is Neil Jordan. The father walked out on the family when Derek was four-years-old. Tamara remarried with Cole five years ago.”

  “That explains why Cole wasn’t torn up like his wife.”

  “And Cole Jordan isn’t Cole Jordan. He’s Cole Holland. Derek kept the Jordan name after the marriage.”

  “And Tamara never corrected us when we addressed her as Mrs. Jordan.”

  “Doesn’t seem like a happy marriage.” Presley bit into her sandwich and wiped the corner of her mouth with a paper napkin. “Still, a murdered child would upset any guy with a heart, even if it wasn’t his kid.”

  “What else did you learn about Cole Holland?”

  “He told us the truth about his work schedule. The guy works full time at Kane Grove Hospital. He also picks up hours at the seasonal Halloween store.”

  “The Halloween store,” Thomas said, leaning on the sill as he worked his jaw back and forth.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “It might be nothing. Remember the orange fabric we plucked out of the weeds beside the train tracks?”

  “You thought it came from a Halloween mask.”

  “Might be a coincidence.”

  “Or Cole could be our killer. He acted aloof when any stepparent would have been devastated. That tells me he had issues with Derek.”

  Thomas scratched his chin.

  “So we should find out more about Cole. See if he had problems with Derek he didn’t disclose.”

  Presley eyed the time.

  “We’d better hustle if we want to make it to Barton Falls before one.”

  Thomas tapped the hood of Presley’s cruiser.

  “Lead the way. I’ll follow you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  October 31st

  12:55 p.m.

  “Hey, Mom. Are you home?”

  Though Raven didn’t expect a reply, the house seemed strange and unsettling when it was this quiet. Naomi was supposed to pick up Serena after lunch and drive her to Shepherd Systems for a tour, so Raven assumed her mother had left an hour ago.

  Over the half-year Raven had lived with her mother, she’d grown accustomed to Serena moving about the home, cooking something delicious in the kitchen, or reading a book on the couch. Raven didn’t mind sacrificing privacy. Keeping Mom on the straight and narrow was all that mattered. But how would she know when Mom crossed the finish line? Mom needed her own space, but Raven didn’t think she was ready.

  Raven removed her sneakers and left them on the mat. After a quick glance at the clock, she threw the refrigerator door open and built a salad with yesterday’s chicken. As she forked the food into her mouth, she checked her messages. Chelsey and LeVar were on their way to the farmhouse. Raven had driven past the house since the kidnapping, but never entered the premises. Doing so would unleash a flood of memories.

  She kept her radio on as she ate. The police band squawked a few times per minute. Once, she recognized Thomas’s voice. The sheriff was en route to the high school, ostensibly to interview a murder suspect. Nothing lately on Benson. Since the supposed sighting in Wolf Lake, nobody had seen the fugitive.

  A message arrived on her phone as she finished her salad. Deputy Aguilar was heading to Kane Grove. Raven dialed Aguilar.

  “What’s in Kane Grove?”

  “Another potential sighting,” the deputy said. Raven heard the cruiser’s motor in the background. “I confirmed Benson was in Wolf Lake this morning.”

  Raven dropped the fork.

  “Are you sure it was him?”

  “Caught him on security footage in the village center. Around the same time, a red Mitsubishi sped through a yellow light. Looked like the driver was in a hurry. We just received a report of a reckless driver in a red Mitsubishi coming into Kane Grove.”

  Raven thought back to this morning. The list of stolen vehicles, which lay on the front seat of Raven’s car, included a red Mitsubishi.

  “There was a vehicle matching that description stolen near the prison yesterday. I can get you the license plate number.” Raven grabbed her keys, locked up, and jogged to the car. When she located the Mitsubishi on the list, she read the plate number to Aguilar. “I’ll drive to Benson’s Barbells. Meet you there?”

  “I’m on the way.”

  Raven’s body thrummed with excitement as she took the interstate to Kane Grove. They were close to catching Benson. As dangerous as the former gym owner was, he repeatedly made mistakes. Driving like a madman was one. A sane criminal would maintain a low profile. Showing his face in Wolf Lake was another. And he should have ditched the Mitsubishi for a different vehicle by now.

  She pressed the gas and arrived at the gym just as Aguilar’s cruiser swung into the parking lot.

  “We released an alert on the Mitsubishi,” Aguilar said. “With any luck, someone will spot Benson.” The deputy checked her weapon and studied the windows fronting the gymnasium. Darkness loomed beyond the glass. “I’m going in.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Stay here, Raven. I can’t put you at risk.”

  “I’m not an everyday civilian.” Raven patted the holstered gun. “At least let me watch your back.”

  Aguilar considered the request. The deputy understood Raven could handle herself under pressure.

  “All right. But stay close.”

  Raven led Aguilar to the rear entrance and pointed at the scuff mark on the lock.

  “See what I mean? It looks like someone busted in.”

  “The real estate agency changed the locks after the foreclosure,” Aguilar said, moving beside the door. “Could have been thieves or vandals who broke in.”

  “Maybe.”

  Aguilar tested the handle. The door opened. She raised her eyebrows and put a finger to her lips. Raven nodded and followed as Aguilar slipped inside the building. They stood in a short hallway with an office on the end. Twin doors led to the men’s and women’s locker rooms. This was where Benson assaulted Raven and dragged her out of the building. They waited in silence and listened. Water dripped from the men’s locker room.

  Aguilar tilted her head at the door and held up a hand. Raven waited while the deputy pushed the door open a crack, both of the women cringing when the hinge squealed.

  “Does it seem warm to you?” Raven whispered.

  Raven felt the breath of humidity strike her face. Aguilar pressed her lips together and led Raven past a long wooden bench fronting a row of green lockers. Gray light filtered through a small window near the ceiling, just enough to push the gloom into the corners. The plunking sound grew louder as the humidity thickened. Aguilar held up a hand and stopped Raven. The deputy placed her back against the wall outside the showers and edged toward the opening. With the gun drawn, she spun around the wall and aimed the weapon into the showers. Water sparkled over the grimy tiles.

  Raven followed Aguilar into the shower and glanced around. Wet footprints arrowed from the shower into the locker room. Aguilar set her hand against the shower head and held Raven’s gaze.

  “Still warm.”

  Raven’s heart raced. Benson might still be inside the building.

  Aguilar darted past Raven and swung between two rows of lockers. Without asking, Raven mirrored Aguilar’s technique in the next row.

  “Clear,” Aguilar muttered.

  With Raven behind her, Aguilar opened the door and stepped into the gymnasium. Raven averted her eyes as harsh afternoon light spilled through the front window. Two squat racks stood at the front of the room. A maze of benches and weight lifting machines cluttered the floor. The next room held
elliptical machines, treadmills, rowers, and the stair machine Raven had used while she spied on Damian Ramos.

  Aguilar didn’t make a sound as she stepped between the benches, light on her feet and at one with the shadows. Raven admired the deputy’s skill. Aguilar was the last person Benson wanted to cross. Though the deputy carried a flashlight, she kept it off. No need to alert the fugitive.

  Raven swept her vision across the exercise room. In the half-light, the strength training machines looked like slumbering, apocalyptic monsters. This place should be lit like a Christmas tree, lifters grunting as they pushed through repetitions. Instead, it felt like a metallic graveyard. To the right, a turnstile blocked access until visitors slipped their membership cards into a reader.

  As they crossed the floor and neared the front windows, a flash of motion in the parking lot caught Raven’s eye. She touched Aguilar’s arm. The deputy pulled up as a man in a gray hooded sweatshirt crossed the road and angled toward the laundromat across from the gym.

  “Is that him?” Raven asked.

  Aguilar bounded toward the entrance without answering. The deputy leaped the turnstile and sprinted down the hallway to a pair of glass doors. She shoved the handle. Padlocked chains prevented the doors from opening.

  “Dammit!”

  Aguilar rattled the doors in frustration and peered through the glass. The unidentified man disappeared between the laundromat and a bicycle repair shop. She reported the sighting to dispatch as she reversed course and ran through the gymnasium. Raven rushed to keep up, following the deputy between the benches, through the locker room, and out the back door.

  “That must have been Benson,” Raven said as they hustled for their vehicles.

  “He was in the building,” Aguilar said. “The scumbag must have seen my cruiser in the parking lot.”

  Raven’s tires squealed as the Rogue leaped out of the parking lot. She raced around the block as Aguilar flashed her lights and drove through a red light. The deputy’s cruiser bucked over a curb and motored down the alleyway beside the laundromat. A sheen of sweat broke along Raven’s brow as she weaved between vehicles. She slammed her hand against the horn to force a hatchback out of her way. The driver saluted her with an obscene gesture as she raced past.