Dialing the phone, he put it on speaker.
“Usher… Harbinger here,” Nicole answered the phone.
Well, at least she was getting better at remembering what her new last name was. Catching herself earlier. “Hey, Nicole, Did anyone notice that there were thirty four names that should have been inside yet only thirty three bodies?”
“Um… no… how did you come up with that number? It’s a bar isn’t it? Couldn’t there have been any number of people inside?”
Joshua smiled. Time to impress his BFF’s woman. “Because the bar closes down for a few hours on Tuesday night for their free beginner’s line dancing lesson. Between the sign-ups, the bartender, two waitresses, bus boy, line cook and assistant, there should have been thirty-four people there, but to count there are only thirty-three bodies.”
He listened as Nicole passed on this information to whoever was around. There were a few exchanges back and forth.
Oh, how he wished he was there. To see their faces. That look of appreciation that Joshua was so awesome.
Nicole came back on the line. “Who is the missing person?”
“A Tammy Wilde,” Joshua reported. “I just texted you her address.”
“Thanks, Joshua,” Nicole said. “Good catch.”
And then she was gone. Kent had rubbed off on Nicole more than she knew, as she disconnected the line without even a good-bye.
Luckily Joshua was used to it.
* * *
Nicole was GPSing the address but the Sheriff shook his head. “I know where the Wilde ranch is. I can get us there in a few minutes.”
“I’ll follow you,” Nicole stated.
“No need,” The sheriff said, then hurried on before she could disagree. “Trust me you don’t want that pretty little Mustang of yours to get all dirty. Just get in.”
Normally Nicole might have argued, but she had spent far too much of her time the last few weeks arguing. One less argument was a relief.
Ruben piled in the back seat, leaving her shotgun. She was still super pissed off at him though, despite the gesture.
The Sheriff wasn’t exaggerating. They were over a hill and a dale and pulling up to a large ranch-style home. Lights on sensors flooded the area with light. Dawn was coming but still a ways off.
Dogs barked. A few horses neighed and a goat bleated.
This wasn’t just a ranch-style home, this truly was a ranch.
The Sheriff pulled to a stop and headed straight for the front door. He knocked loudly three times.
A very sleepy man with a large shot gun answered the door. “Sheriff?”
“Mr. Wilde, is Tammy here?”
“She sure as shit better be,” the man brusquely answered.
“Can you get her for us, Bert?” the sheriff asked.
Nicole stepped forward. “It’s very important.”
Mr. Wilde grunted and closed the door. A very loud deadbolt locked.
The sheriff took a step back, pacing the porch. “This is going to be horrific. She’s just a kid.”
“Sheriff, if you don’t mind, let me lead the questioning. We need to get as much information out of Tammy before she hears the news. Once she knows what happened, she is going to be useless to us and the investigation.”
The sheriff nodded as the lock clicked open and the door swung open. “Come on in, I guess,” Mr. Wilde said.
Not exactly the most enthusiastic welcome she’d ever had, but if it got her close to Tammy, it was fine with her.
The teenage girl was sitting on a large hunter green couch. Her slight form was nearly swallowed up by the overstuff fabric. She had her knees tucked up to her body, her arms clutched her thin legs.
“Tammy, I’m Nicole. I need to ask you a few questions about earlier this evening at the bar.”
“I wasn’t at a bar,” Tammy said, her eyes darting to her father.
“I’m sorry. I meant the restaurant where you were signed up to take line-dancing classes.”
The girl swallowed hard, looking a little less nervous. Her shoulders sagged and her knuckles weren’t quite as white as they had been before.
“Yes, of course, but what is this about?”
Nicole deflected the question with another one. “You were there with your friends, right?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you leave early?” Nicole asked.
Mr. Wilde stared Tammy down pretty hard. Nicole wished she could get the girl away from her father, but couldn’t think of a way to do it without alerting them to the dire situation.
“I… I wasn’t feeling well so I decided to go home.”
“You walked home on your own after dark?” Nicole queried.
For the first time Tammy smiled. “Not so much walked. I know the Fergunson’s horses right behind the restaurant. I give them carrots every so often, so I just hopped on one of them to the corner of their pasture that abuts ours. Our horses hang out there. So I just hopped on one of mine all the way home.”
Wow, this really was the country. Nicole couldn’t imagine ever deciding to hop a few horses to make her way home.
“Did you notice anything suspicious at the restaurant?” Nicole asked, making Tammy appear more nervous again.
Tammy squirmed on the couch, apparently trying to bury herself into the green. “No. Why?”
Ruben stepped forward. “What about not suspicious, but unusual? Not ordinary? Anything like that?”
“Well, I don’t know… I mean, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. Was there a robbery or something?”
“Something,” Nicole answered. “Just tell us. We promise no one will get in trouble unless they caused trouble.”
The teenage girl nodded, but didn’t speak right away. She fidgeted with the edge of her pajamas. “There were three grey-haired old ladies at a table near the back. Johnny the bartender usually doesn’t let patrons in during the lessons, but sometimes he makes an exception.”
“So you’d never seen them before?” Nicole asked.
Tammy shook her head. “They were dressed like locals though, except their shoes. They had tennis shoes on, which seemed odd.”
“Why?” Ruben asked.
It was the sheriff that answered. “If they were from these parts they should have been wearing cowboy boots.”
Country, Ruben. Country.
* * *
Ruben could tell that Nicole was struggling with a bit of culture shock. Ruben certainly wasn’t in synch with the rural lifestyle, but at the least his grandparents had a place outside of town.
Not out in the boondocks like this, but not urban by any means. As a child he’d gone to more hoedowns than he would like to admit.
“Would you be able to identify them if you saw them again?” Ruben asked.
Tammy shrugged. “I guess, but what is this all about?”
“Nothing else between the older ladies and the exit?” Nicole asked.
“One of them asked if I was okay, but I said I was.”
“Even though you were feeling sick?” Ruben asked. The girl was holding something back. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the girl was definitely lying.
He glanced to Nicole who frowned. They may not be on the best of terms, but with this girl they were on the same page.
“Tammy,” Nicole said sitting down next to the girl. Close enough to put a hand on the girl’s knee. “This is really important. We need you to be completely honest with us.”
“I am!” Tammy protested a bit too much.
“Tammy Lynn…” Mr. Wilde said. “Tell them or I’ll whip your hide.”
Okay the father wasn’t making this any easier. Ruben looked to the Sheriff.
“Mr. Wilde, I’ve been up since before dawn, yesterday” The Sheriff said. “Would you mind making us a couple cups of Joe?”
The man looked torn. He wanted to stay with his daughter, but also couldn’t be rude, especially to the lawman.
“Sure, sheriff, coming right up.”
Once her fa
ther was out of the room, Tammy visibly relaxed. Her eyes were still as large as saucers though. “What is going on?”
Nicole leaned in. “What are you lying about?”
“I’m not!” Tammy insisted again. “I’m not.”
Ruben sat across from Tammy, leaning forward. “This is life or death, Tammy. What is it?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
While the words were denying a lie, tears sprung to her eyes.
“Tammy!” Mr. Wilde announced from the kitchen, running in wild-eyed. “They’re dead. Everyone at the restaurant is dead!”
The sheriff must have told him in the kitchen. Not great.
The news seemed to hit Tammy like a tidal wave, shoving her back, opening her mouth. The girl gasped for breath.
“It’s okay,” Nicole murmured. “Just breathe.”
The girl didn’t breathe, she screamed. Then cried, then sobbed, then cried some more.
“Kaylie! Sarah! Tom!” On the last she became incoherent, clutching her belly, sobbing. Falling into Nicole’s arms. “No, no, no!”
Yes, Ruben expected grief, but the girl’s hysterics felt beyond even your friends being killed.
“You’re sure Tom is dead?” Tammy asked as tears streamed down her face.
“Yes,” Ruben answered. “He is.”
“He can’t be. He just can’t be.”
They were getting closer to the truth, Ruben could feel it.
“Why?” Ruben asked.
Tammy’s lip twitched, then she blurted. “I’m pregnant. It’s Tom’s. Daddy, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Mr. Wilde’s eyes widened, then a frown creased his face, then finally he softened and hugged his daughter from behind. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
Ruben rose and backed away. The secret was out and it had nothing to do with the case.
Nicole rose as well, following the sheriff out the front door.
After arriving out on the porch the sheriff shut the door. “I’m sorry. I was hoping for more.”
“No worries,” Ruben said. “At least we have the three old women now.”
Nicole shrugged. “Maybe they saw something. They must have left just before the massacre.”
Ruben flipped his phone open and called Jimmi.
They were going to need the tech’s help.
CHAPTER 3
Joshua felt great. Despite his concerns that he would toss and turn all night, he had slept like a baby.
He had been so sure he’d have trouble sleeping with Kent in jail that he’d had his milk ready on the stove, his Enya playlist queued up, and a little Nyquil on the nightstand. But he hadn’t needed any of it. His head had hit the pillow and he was out.
Probably all the stress.
Now with a jaunt in his step he was surprising Jimmi with a double shot espresso Latte with soymilk foam.
Joshua tossed a few waves to Jimmi’s co-workers as he made his way through the lab. They all pointed to the large media room. While it wasn’t Jimmi’s office per se, the screen filled room was his de facto place of residence.
Bumping the door with his hip, Joshua entered the glorious room. It sparkled with huge plasma screens.
What he saw brought him to a halt. “Is that… Is it…”
There was Kent in his magnificent glory, even in orange which Joshua thought the profiler would agree wasn’t his color.
Jimmi tried to cut the feed but was way too slow for someone with Joshua’s keen observation skills.
“You dawg!” Joshua accused Jimmi, shoving his drink at him. “You hacked into the prison’s security feed.”
“Shh!” Jimmi urged, shoving Joshua down into a seat.
This wasn’t just impressive. It was awesome. Super awesome.
Reaching out, Joshua touched the screen and stroked Kent’s cheek. “He looks good, all things considering.”
“Yeah, he just arrived at the kitchen for his morning duties.”
Joshua breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe everything would turn out okay. Then Jimmi inhaled sharply.
“What’s wrong?”
Jimmi pointed to the screen where six rather large Hispanic men with Latin King tattoos approached from the rear. There was no doubt who they were headed for. Suddenly there were no other inmates in the area.
“Can’t you warn him?” Joshua asked.
“No, dude. I’m in here illegally. Plus what could I do?”
Joshua didn’t know, but they needed to do something. Kent was about to be attacked.
* * *
Kent yawned and stretched. This was taking God-awful long. He’d expected to be jumped as soon as he walked into the kitchen.
And the ruckus the gang was making? If this was their stealth mode, how did they stay in power?
He’d been ignoring their approach for several minutes.
Finally, a grunt seemed like an obvious enough sound to prompt him to turn around. So there were six of them. Each with weapons.
Oh, these poor souls.
Kent faked trying to make a run for it. The men formed a circle. There was nowhere for him to go. Which was fine by Kent. He had no intention of going anywhere. It had taken too long to set up this confrontation.
The first large man, his stomach poking out of his orange jumpsuit like a pregnant woman’s belly, lunged, waving a ridiculously small shank. Kent had fought off homicidal maniacs with axes before.
Kent’s hands went up to avoid accidental injury as he jumped back. The blade snagged on Kent’s jumpsuit, ripping the fabric. The man smiled, revealing his gold capped teeth.
A perfect opportunity for a right hook, snapping the man’s head back.
Ah, that was a satisfying sound.
The man stumbled back and was replaced by two other men.
The tall one leapt forward, trying to encompass Kent in his rather large embrace.
Kent reached behind him, grabbed a large pot of boiling water and flung it at the man. His screams echoed off the metal surfaces. Why did they think he requested kitchen duty? Seriously?
The other man took a swipe with a larger knife, slicing along Kent’s ribcage. Kent brought his elbow down, hard, cracking the man’s forearm. It didn’t break, but it seemed to sure as hell feel like it.
That left three standing. Kent wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
The shortest one seemed to be the boss. Kent stared him down.
“Let’s do this,” Kent challenged. He grabbed the two closest weapons. A spatula and a wooden spoon. It was going to have to do.
At once the three launched at him, figuring they would win by sheer numbers.
Kent raised the spatula and came down hard on the first attacker’s nose, then turned the spatula on edge, cutting the man’s face. With the other hand Kent tossed the spoon up in the air, caught it then used the end to poke the second man in the eye.
The last man came at Kent hard, tackling him, slamming Kent up against the stove. That had to have cracked at least one rib. An explosion of pain seized his chest making him light-headed. He had to stay conscious.
While he’d wanted this confrontation, he would rather not die during it. That would defeat the entire purpose of this whole ordeal.
The man tried to shove Kent’s head against the gas burner. Which left the man’s side completely open. Kent didn’t have a whole lot of leverage or oxygen, for that matter, but he did have enough energy to plant three fast jabs to the man’s abdomen.
By luck, one of them glanced off his attacker’s solar plexus. It wasn’t enough to knock the man back, but he did loosen his grip. Kent exhaled hard despite the pain and slipped right out of the man’s grip to the floor.
Where the hell were the guards?
Paid off, somewhere having a nice smoke Kent guessed.
Which left him with six really pissed-off attackers. And Kent had lost his weapons.
The six gathered, ready to launch a concerted attack.
Time to find someplace to hide. Kent
felt behind him. He found a large oven door handle. Perfect.
He opened the stove, crammed himself inside and pulled the door shut. Bracing his feet, Kent kept the door shut against his attackers.
Then someone got smart and turned on the oven.
Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best hiding spot.
* * *
Joshua was crying. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit it. “We’ve got to do something!”
The temperature on that oven was rising quickly.
“Like what?” Jimmi shrieked back.
“Anything!” Joshua yelled. “Anything!”
They were watching Kent being cooked alive. This was not happening. Not even Enya could calm his nerves right now.
Finally Jimmi’s brain kicked in. “The fire alarm!”
His friend had to have hacked into the prison’s mainframe to route over to the security feeds. He had access to just about every function of the prison.
“Do it!”
“I’m trying,” Jimmi whined, as he tapped command after command.
Finally a shrill alarm sounded in the kitchen.
The Latin Kings ran off. Once they were gone, the oven door opened and Kent rolled out onto the floor, coughing and sputtering.
Guards burst in armed with fire extinguishers, but Kent was just slow roasting, there was no fire. There were quite a few panicked expressions. This one was going to be hard to explain to their superiors.
Quickly, a gurney arrived and Kent was loaded on. Jimmi had to flip through screens as Kent was rushed to the infirmary.
Joshua finally breathed again as the doctor determined there were only minor bruises and a few broken ribs from the fight.
“That was too freaking close,” Joshua sighed.
He kept watching as the doctor finished up with Kent and left with the guards.
Kent rolled over, looked straight at the camera, then winked.
Proving once again that Kent was the most awesome guy in the universe.
* * *
Nicole walked in front of the murder board. More like paced in front of it. The Governor’s office had called. The case was now officially theirs since it spanned four different jurisdictions. Normally the State Police would handle inter-county cases, but they were not equipped to handle a serialist like this.
So it was all theirs, for better or worse. And right now, having to work with Ruben was the worst.
2nd Cycle of the Harbinger Series: The continuation of the #1 Hard-boiled/Police Procedural smash Plain Jane Page 22