She stopped at the crossroads’ four-way stop sign and waited her turn to go. “We don’t have the resources in our department to offer rewards.”
“I do. Put the word out that there’s a five hundred dollar reward if we find Spivey and Miles alive.”
“You’re putting your own money up?”
He shrugged. “I’ll pay for the information. Nothing wrong with that.”
“That much money is a fortune around here. If those men had families, they’d sell them out in a heartbeat.”
“That’s the general idea.”
“Diabolical, but I like it. You’re all right, North.”
The smile she flashed him was easily worth half a grand, but what good was his money? It didn’t buy peace of mind. It didn’t bring his best friend back to life. And it didn’t put Laurie Ann in his bed.
Chapter 36
Laurie Ann called Carlene Thatcher at the Mossy Bog Telephone Company. Minutes later, the reward aired on local access TV.
Calls about the missing men’s whereabouts were all over the map. Spivey and Miles were stranded on an offshore island. Spivey and Miles had hitched a ride to Miami to do a music gig. Spivey and Miles were holed up in a fishing shack on the Mossy Bog River. Spivey and Miles were drinking behind Bully Boys Bar.
Laurie Ann glanced over her desk at Wyatt. “You wanted leads. We’re getting them.”
“Any of those sound feasible to you?”
“No way did they land a music gig. I’ve heard Miles sing, and it isn’t pretty. No way they’d be behind Bully Boys. They’d be sitting inside to do their drinking.”
“But they could be on an island or in a fishing camp?”
“Only if someone took them there. Spivey and Miles aren’t self-starters. They follow that scientific principle of items at rest tend to stay at rest.”
“Unless they’re scared for their lives. People act out of character then.”
He had a point. “We’ll contact the Miami police and ask them to be on the lookout for this pair, just in case, but my guess is they’re in Tidewater County, somewhere.”
“What about the other locations?”
“To search the islands, we could requisition the sheriff’s rescue boat, or we could borrow my dad’s Carolina Skiff. Dad’s 18-footer is faster and more maneuverable.”
“Do it. I’m ready to go.”
She glanced at her watch. It was already after five. This time of year the sun set early. “Not enough daylight hours left. We’ll search the islands tomorrow.”
Chief Tyler ambled out of his office, his craggy features frozen in a scowl. “What in the Sam Hill is going on? Why are the phones ringing off the hook?”
“We offered a reward for the whereabouts of Ray Spivey and Frankie Miles,” Laurie Ann said.
“I didn’t authorize a reward.” Tyler’s neck reddened.
Before he chewed her out, Laurie Ann hastened to explain. “North offered the reward. To move the investigation along. I realize now that I should have cleared it with you, but we need to find these two men right away.”
The chief sized them up with slitted eyes. “The money isn’t coming out of my budget?”
“No, sir.”
“I don’t have the manpower to chase all over creation for those two bums.”
His bark was worse than his bite. Laurie Ann repeated that to herself. This wasn’t personal. She’d messed up by not keeping him in the loop. She met the chief’s steely gaze. “We’ll follow the leads. We’re looking at the island possibilities tomorrow morning.”
“Keep me informed.” He turned and disappeared into his office.
Laurie Ann went back to answering the phones.
“What about the fax with Lester’s employment with the moving company?” Wyatt asked when the phones quieted.
“I have it.” She withdrew a page from her arson folder and handed it to him. Wyatt studied the fax so intently, she squirmed in her seat, sure he was thinking the worst of Lester. “His trips are listed there with dates,” she offered. “We were talking about the potential connection to my scrap yard task force when we got the call about Jacob Whitman resurfacing.”
Wyatt ran his finger down the list of city names. “You have contacts in all these places?”
“I’ve personally talked to most of those dealers while trying to make my scrap metal cases.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want my cousin to be messed up in this, but his travel log corresponds to areas where there have been extensive vandalism and scrap metal theft. It’s after hours, but I can post Lester’s picture on the task force private e-mail list. Maybe someone will recognize him and respond.”
“Sounds good. You’re coming around to my point of view?”
“I don’t know how Lester is involved with any of this. But his destinations jive with places I’ve had active scrap metal cases. These scrap dealers are buying all the scrap metal they can get their hands on and shipping it overseas. Then they use our steel to make cars to sell to us. Great system, eh?”
“Many towns have scrap yards.”
“They do, but gas is expensive. Scrap metal thieves tend to stay within a fifty or so mile radius of home. But Lester’s job pays for his gas and gives him a wide base of operations.”
“Two of his trips were to my towns.”
The icy fire in Wyatt’s eyes rattled her. “Your towns?”
“The towns where the arsonist murdered people.”
“Oh.” Her heart raced. She moved her hand to her chest to hold it in. “Do the dates match up?”
“They do. I want an immediate all points bulletin and a warrant for Lester’s arrest issued immediately. He’s my primary suspect.”
She couldn’t take a breath, couldn’t move. “But we haven’t ruled out Vernon Carter.”
“We’ll still look for him. For Spivey and Miles, too. Some of these people may be accomplices. But Lester Church is my arsonist. The other places he’s been have had smaller accelerant fires, which coincide with his trips. This log is the proof I’ve been seeking.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. Lightheaded, she felt the room shift, and the light thin. She worked harder at inhaling. “How can you be sure?”
“I’ve pored over these files for months. I don’t need to check the dates against my records.” He tapped the side of his head. “They’re right here.”
Despite his certainty, she couldn’t wrap her brain around her cousin as a murderous man. “Let me call my Dad. He’ll straighten this out.”
“No calls to your father or Lester at this point. We’re not tipping your cousin off.”
“You won’t have to. It’ll be all over town in less than an hour.”
“We need results, Dinterman. We’re on the right track.”
She noted his use of her last name. He was all business now. This was why he came here. To catch this guy. They might be on the right track, but it felt like the freight train was out of control and heading right at her. She completed the necessary paperwork for the warrant and APB, making the movements by rote, saying the right words by force of habit.
Because on the inside, she was sobbing like crazy.
Chapter 37
Given his insistence on arresting her cousin, Wyatt expected to stay at the hotel, but Laurie Ann surprised him. Though she couldn’t look him in the eye, she told him her job was to make sure he was safe. She couldn’t do that if he was at the hotel.
So, he followed her home.
Arresting her cousin wasn’t the way to waltz into her affections, but he had to go where the investigation led him. Lester Church’s travel pattern exactly matched the fires he’d flagged. Not wanting to antagonize her further, he left his briefcase and laptop in his truck.
Time enough for them tomorrow.
He made a salad to accompany the chicken she was grilling on the patio. While he rinsed and chopped, her aunt called. Snippets of Laurie Ann’s side of the conversation drifted through the open window. He cringed when she repeate
d, “No, I haven’t lost my mind.”
Laurie Ann marched back inside, charred meat on a plate, her three-legged dog darting in and out of her way. “My aunt heard the news at the beauty shop. She just disowned me.”
“She’s upset. Give her emotions time to cool down.”
“You don’t know my aunt. The longer she chews on something, the more worked up she gets, and she’s pretty darn worked up.”
Wyatt set the knife and cutting board in the sink. He’d brought this trouble on her. Guilt crowded him like the twilight edging the sun from the sky. “I’m sorry.”
She glared at him. “How would you feel if I put out a warrant for your brother’s arrest?”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Not without proof. You only have a pattern. Lester is supposed to be innocent until proven guilty. He’ll be spooked out of his mind. He’ll probably hit the road because he thinks the evidence is stacked against him.”
Wyatt carried the salad to the table and dished it out. “Guilty men run.”
She followed with the chicken. “So do scared ones. Men run from cops every day because they’re scared.”
So far, so good. She hadn’t come after him with a knife, and hers were particularly sharp. “They’re guilty of something.”
She snorted. “It must be nice living in that black and white ivory tower of yours.”
“Insults, Dinterman? Is that where we’re headed?”
She pushed the food around on her plate. “I’m frustrated. I’ve never been so conflicted, even when I was getting my butt kicked at the academy. This is my family we’re talking about.”
“Lester’s been of interest to me since the church picnic, but I didn’t leap to any conclusions. Things about him don’t add up. His employment and income. His disappearances. His living arrangements. His early history of setting fires. His knowledge of guns. His avoidance of me. I delayed taking action against him until we received that employment log of his travel. You made the connection about the scrap yards, which puts him in the company of people who are ripping off others. Once the fire log and his travel log matched, I knew Lester was the person I’m looking for. I believe he’s stealing metal and starting fires to cover the theft.”
“There might be another explanation. This is circumstantial evidence.”
Wyatt picked up his fork and knife. “For your sake, I hope there is.”
Her shoulders slumped. “If he is the person you say he is, that means I’m not a very good cop. How could I have missed a serial arsonist right under my nose?”
“You weren’t looking for a serial arsonist. I’ve been chasing this guy for two years. He’s good at covering his tracks, like a hunter. He varied his pattern and location. He didn’t fit a standard profile. Now I know why. His opportunity for random fires came about through his part-time employment. I considered a traveling salesman for the arsonist’s occupation early on, but the territory was too broad. A firm that delivered to Statesboro wouldn’t necessarily have business in Helen, Rome, and Valdosta. Lester’s furniture moving job gives him the perfect excuse to travel anywhere in the state. He might have even used the moving truck to haul away the scrap metal.”
“But he didn’t sell the metal himself, or his name would have cropped up on the lists of sellers I perused. If he’s tied into scrap metal thefts, he must have accomplices.”
“Did he know about the task force? Did you talk about that with him?”
“He didn’t ask me about the task force, but I must have mentioned it. Dad would have mentioned it, if I didn’t. He was proud I organized one for the southeast that connected us to the statewide network.”
Wyatt gave up the pretense of eating, putting down his silverware. “Playing devil’s advocate here, how would Lester have enlisted locals to sell the metal for him? Does he know people all over the state?”
“He has hunting and fishing buddies, but I don’t know as they would help him move stolen property. Early in his employment with Jimmy’s Moving, he told me they often stopped at local dives and hired extra workers for unloading. It was cheaper than paying people from Brunswick for the entire trip.”
“Those names would be different every time.” Understanding dawned as the pieces fell together in Wyatt’s thoughts. It made sense now. This was the final link he’d been missing. “Those day-laborers might be willing to look the other way for a few extra dollars. They might even help him scout locations for scrap metal.”
Laurie Ann’s face paled. “In which case, I fear for Ray Spivey and Frankie Miles. They’re the type of worker Lester would have hired. As homeless men, they’re invisible, like James Brown was.”
Wyatt reached across the table and touched her hand. “With Brown dead, Spivey and Miles know to be wary of your cousin.”
The screen door banged shut. Wyatt glanced up in alarm, but Laurie Ann made a dismissive gesture with her wrist. “Gabby went outside.”
“We should make sure your doors are locked. You don’t want to have a surprise visitor tonight.”
Her eyes rounded. “You think he’s here?”
“I don’t know where he is. You called his helpers invisible, but Lester’s been smoke this whole time. He’s a master of getting around undetected. He’s good at going to ground, too.”
“You’re certain Lester is the arsonist?”
“As certain as I can be without his signed confession.”
“I follow your logic, but it doesn’t change how torn up I feel. I’m blindsided and feeling guilty about betraying my family and feeling angry at being caught in the middle of this situation. And I’m not an emotional person.” She went silent for a moment. Her eyebrows shot up. “My dad! Is he in danger?”
“Don’t worry about him. I passed the word up my chain of command earlier today. I got a text before dinner that your dad was enjoying fishing with his buddies. Lester is not around.”
“What about tonight?”
“Your dad will be fine. I’ve got someone looking out for him.”
“Who?”
“One of Sloan Harding’s security guys. Lester won’t get past him. This guy is a former special forces agent.”
“What do we do now?”
“Investigate. We follow the leads we have, starting with the islands tomorrow. Lester will be found. He escaped detection before because no one was looking for him. This time around the entire state is on alert for Lester Church.”
She pressed her lips together at his last statement. He wished he could soften the blow, but her cousin wasn’t the man she thought he was. He was a killer and an arsonist. Of that, Wyatt was certain.
They dug into the dinner. Wyatt’s thoughts wouldn’t settle. He was close to getting his man. He couldn’t let up now. I’ve got your back, Bobby. Justice is near.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
Wyatt listened, his senses revved on high alert. Faintly, he heard barking. “Your dog?”
She rose. “Gabby must have gotten tangled in the briars again. That dog thinks he’s Superman. He doesn’t take into account he’s missing a leg or that it’s dark. I’ll go get him.”
“Wait for me.”
Chapter 38
Their flashlights bobbed as they hurried through the woods. Wyatt had no doubt they were heading for the barking dog, his ears told him that. Like last time, he’d put on his boots. This time though, he’d also donned his fire helmet with searchlight. They’d left the house on a northwestern heading and seemed to be arcing westward, but without visible landmarks, he couldn’t be certain.
On the plus side, Laurie Ann seemed surefooted as a deer and completely at home in these trees. He stepped over a tangle of vines, the heel of his boot catching one and nearly toppling him. His light flashed up the treetops momentarily.
“You all right?” Laurie Ann called over her shoulder.
“Minor navigation error.” He ducked under another low hanging branch. “You know, if not for your barking dog, I might be worried you were dr
agging me out in the woods for ulterior motives.”
She snorted. “You wish. You’d love to get your hands on my ulterior motives.”
He opened his mouth to laugh and ate a bug. After he got rid of it, the moment had passed for witty repartee. He definitely wanted to get his hands on her. That feeling hadn’t lessened one bit. But his chances of that happening approached zero. As soon as his investigation had pointed toward her cousin, he’d known this would be a bumpy ride.
“How’s that arm of yours?” Laurie Ann asked. “I keep forgetting to ask you about it.”
“Fine. Doesn’t bother me much.”
“Good.”
Gabby kept barking. How did the dog manage to get this far away from the house, through all this underbrush, with only three legs? Wyatt focused on staying upright with his ears attuned to the night. Except for the barking, it was quiet.
Too quiet.
“Laurie Ann. Hold up a sec.”
She didn’t break stride. “Can’t keep up, city boy?”
He highstepped across tangled vegetation and gripped her shoulder. “Stop.”
The look she shot him would’ve ignited Atlanta’s Turner Field. “Listen,” he urged.
“My dog is barking.”
“Listen again.”
She cocked her head. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly. There should be frogs. Crickets. Owls. Other sounds. The forest is too quiet. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I can’t leave my dog out here.”
“I’m not asking you to. Be careful.”
“I’m armed, and I brought my phone. I don’t go anywhere without protection. I’ve spotted six-foot rattlers out here.”
Snakes. He hoped they didn’t run across any of the two-legged kind. “Be alert. If your dog wasn’t stuck, I’d insist we seek cover. I don’t like this. Our flashlights broadcast our location, so do our voices.”
He wasn’t sure how she’d respond. A mosquito whined near his ear as he waited.
“Good points,” she said. “I feel edgy too, but I thought it was because of Gabby. Shine your light at the ground, turn off that head lamp, and keep conversation to the bare minimum.”
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