Cold Fear

by Susan Sleeman

  “Odds aren’t good, but maybe we can come up with the name of the tattoo shop and then contact the owner. If this guy has moved on, maybe the owner will know where he is now.”

  The door flew open, and Blake stormed into the room. He eyed Leah. “Well, you got a reprieve.”

  “I did?” Leah stared up at him.

  “Thanks to your celebrity status, the DA won’t act until I have more evidence. It’s an election year, and he doesn’t want to risk the bad publicity for falsely arresting a superstar.”

  Riley’s mood soared with the news.

  “I’m not that big of a star,” Leah said. “But I’m glad for the reprieve.”

  “Forget I said that about the DA.” Blake looked between them. “Both of you. I should’ve taken the time to cool off before coming in here.”

  “I won’t say a word,” Leah said, sounding relieved.

  “I can’t promise not to share with the team, but you know they’ll keep it to themselves.”

  Blake nodded and stepped closer to Riley. “I’m taking off my sheriff’s hat and talking to you as a friend. I need you to keep an eye on Leah. For her sake, not mine.”

  “You don’t think she’s guilty.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” A weight lifted off Riley’s back.

  “Just know that no matter what or who this investigation reveals, I will do my sworn job. Friend or no friend.”

  “I know you will, but I also know you’ll be fair about it.” A hint of optimism found its way into Riley’s heart. “This is probably pushing things with you, but if we can figure out the tattoo shop where we got inked, I’d like to take a quick trip to Portland and take Leah with me.”

  Riley held his breath in wait for the answer. Sure, he could send another team member to Portland, but he felt compelled to do this.

  “Okay.” Blake turned to Leah. “You’re not to go into your house for any reason. Got it?”

  “Yes. I don’t need to go there.”

  Blake faced Riley, his gaze narrowed. “Whatever you do, don’t make a fool of me here for trusting you, Glen.”

  “I won’t.” I hope.

  18

  Not even ten minutes later, Leah had to put aside Helen’s murder. Put aside Blake and his warnings. She had to deal with her performance tonight. The show must go on. So Kraig gathered her along with Riley, Felicity, and Gabby on the stage. She expected the band would be there waiting for her, but the stage was empty save a few stools.

  Gabby was perched on one, Felicity on another. Felicity glared at her, obviously still upset, and she had every right to be. Leah would have to work hard to repair that relationship, but the good news was she could be totally honest with Felicity now and they could become real friends.

  Leah sat on the open stool next to Gabby. “We need to make this meeting quick and get the band warming up.”

  Gabby frowned. “I’m sorry, Leah, but we can’t hold the concert tonight.”

  Leah didn’t like Gabby’s dire tone of voice. “What do you mean we can’t hold the concert? I understand not doing it out of respect for Helen, and I’m glad to cancel for that, but it sounds like you’re saying it’s cancelled for another reason.”

  “Your promoter is threatening to drop you and wants to reevaluate,” Kraig said, not pulling any punches. “And even if he didn’t, after today’s publicity about Helen’s murder, you can’t possibly perform tonight.”

  She swallowed down her mounting worry. “I understand about tonight. It’s probably not a good idea to go on, but surely we can find someone else to replace this promoter if he bails.”

  Kraig shook his head hard, his long hair swishing back and forth. “Not in the middle of a tour, no.”

  She slouched on the stool, feeling as if the weight of the announcement was pushing her down. “So he’s like everyone else then. He thinks I’m a murderer.”

  Gabby sat forward and met Leah’s gaze. “Actually, that’s not it at all.”

  “Then what?”

  “The fact that you hid your son is blowing up all over social media. He’s seeing people threatening to boycott your concert, and he doesn’t want to be associated with the bad publicity.”

  “Seriously?” Outrage had her shooting up on her stool.

  “Seriously.” The word whispered out of Gabby’s mouth.

  “In this day and age, I can’t imagine they’re upset about me having a child when I wasn’t married,” she said, though honestly, she was mortified by it and had always been so.

  “That’s not it either,” Gabby said. “Your fans feel betrayed.”

  “Betrayed, but how?”

  “I can answer that one because I feel the same way,” Felicity chimed in. “I thought I knew you. That you were open and honest about your life. But here’s this big, I mean really big—huge—thing you didn’t tell us about. We believed you were genuine. The real deal. We can’t trust you to be genuine anymore.”

  “And the thing today’s generation hates more than anything is lack of authenticity,” Gabby added. “They thought they knew you, and you betrayed their trust.”

  “But I had good reason. Ril—” She started to mention Riley’s father, but she wouldn’t do that to Riley. Even if she lost her career, she wouldn’t throw his father under the bus. Not because she was worried about going against his father, but because she cared about Riley and didn’t want him to have to go through more hounding of the press than he would likely already experience.

  “This will be hard to come back from.” Gabby squeezed Leah’s knee. “But I’ll work with my team to come up with something to save your career.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Leah gaped at Gabby while she tried to wrap her head around this mess. “My whole career is in danger because I didn’t share about my son?”

  “Yes,” Kraig said. “You’re like social media kryptonite now, and no promoter will touch you until this blows over. If it ever does. I’m sorry, but that’s today’s world of social media where fans think they’re part of your life.”

  Leah didn’t know what to say. What to feel. She’d just gotten over the stress of not being arrested, and now this? And she thought she’d come to the end of herself. Hah! God had even more of a work to do in her life. She’d been so cocky, having mastered peace for only a second before telling Riley that he should embrace it. And now, here she was. Her peace gone.

  She obviously feared losing her career more than going to jail. How could that even be?

  “We’ll get to work now and try to repair this as best as possible.” Gabby stood and patted Leah’s shoulder. “Hang in there, okay?”

  Leah nodded, but honestly, she didn’t know how to hang in there when her life had totally exploded.

  “Ditto what she said.” Kraig squeezed her shoulder and left the room with Gabby.

  “I’ll go, too, but not to help them,” Felicity said, her expression tight. “I’m done with you, and I’m going back home to Portland. I wish things were different, and I could support you, but right now I have to put some distance between us.”

  “I understand,” Leah said. “And I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to do that. I was protecting my son. When you have children, you’ll understand.”

  “Maybe,” Felicity replied, and shaking her head, she exited the stage.

  “Thank you,” Riley said the moment she was out of earshot. “For not mentioning my dad. He deserves to be outed in public, but I appreciate that you didn’t do it.”

  Leah turned her focus to Riley. “I couldn’t hurt you that way.”

  He came over to her. “It could cost you everything.”

  “Then it will.”

  He tipped his head, smiling. “Your newfound trust in God in action again?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not feeling that peace anymore. More like resignation. But if I’m going down, I don’t have to take you with me.”

  “I can’t believe God wouldn’t honor your
integrity and work this out.”

  “Seems I can trust Him with clearing my name, but when it comes to my career and money, I don’t know. It’s got me by the throat. I need to figure out a way to lay it down. Who knows? Maybe that’s what this is all about.”

  “Maybe.” Riley took her hand. “Just know I will always be thankful for your consideration here. When I tell my parents about this, they’ll be thankful, too, and Dad won’t take any action.”

  “Actually, I fully expect him to say I’m lying about having come to see him back then. After all, I don’t have any proof, and if there’s anything I’ve learned this week, it’s that you need proof when someone calls your actions into question.” She thought back to that day. “I suppose I could describe his office, and I’d never been there before.”

  He squeezed her hand and let go. “Your word is all I need.”

  She dredged up a smile for him and moved on to more pressing things. “Do you think since I have fallen out of the public’s favor that the DA will be more apt to file charges against me?”

  “Yeah, I think it’s possible.”

  “So, can we get out of here before the sheriff comes looking for me?”

  Riley nodded. “If we figure out the tattoo shop, I’ll arrange for us to go to Portland tomorrow, and with the hotel being closer, we might as well stay here tonight.”

  “Sounds good,” she said, but nothing sounded good right now. Nothing at all.

  Riley bent closer and looked her in the eye. “I know it feels like your life is out of control, but you need to have faith that God will work all of this out.”

  “Sounds like you’re suddenly the one trusting Him.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I am. But here’s the thing. It’s easier to trust God with someone else’s life than your own.”

  “I get that.” She sighed. “I just wish I knew how this will be resolved.”

  “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” He gave a wry smile. “But if we knew the future, then we wouldn’t need faith, now would we?”

  Riley couldn’t sleep. He kept waiting for his phone to ring or a knock on his door, or hearing Blake at Leah’s door, arresting her. Leah was probably going through the same thing. Maybe pacing the room as she typically did when stressed.

  He tossed off his covers and glanced at his phone to make sure he didn’t miss a call or text, but the screen was blank. He went to his computer to check his email. Seeing Eryn’s name and an attachment, he hoped the image of the tattooed man had been improved enough to give them something to go on.

  He clicked on the message and quickly scanned it to discover she had indeed lightened it. The name of a bar where he was sitting when the picture was taken was displayed behind him. Excitement building, Riley entered the bar’s name in Google Maps and sat back stunned.

  The bar was next door to Everlasting Tattoos. The name sounded familiar, but Riley wanted it to be, so maybe he was letting the power of suggestion get to him. He looked at the man’s picture again. The guy could very well be Leah’s stalker. Well, at least his arm, and he was holding a Walther PPS. A 9mm. Could be their murder weapon.

  Riley searched for Everlasting’s website and opened the main page. He clicked on the link for tattoo artists and the page opened with the names and profiles of the artists, but no photos of them.

  One guy’s name—Milo Belcher—stood out. That could just be because it was an unusual name. Which made Riley think he was wrong, too, because odds were better that an unusual name like that would stick in their memory, but he didn’t know if the guy had even mentioned his name.

  They would just have to hope that tomorrow when they walked into the shop, he was there. They might not remember his face, but they would surely recognize the Leah tattoo on his arm.

  19

  Riley approached the tattoo shop on foot. He’d flown Alex and Leah to Portland in the helo, touched down on Lee’s property, and used the ratty old truck to get to a car rental place for a more reliable vehicle. He didn’t want their would-be stalker to bolt when he saw Leah, so Riley left the others in the SUV in the parking structure.

  The minute he stepped into the tattoo shop, he knew it was the right place. The scent of strong incense still clung to the air, and the interior hadn’t change much in the last seven years. A curved reception desk sat in the front with a Kelly green countertop. The walls were filled with tattoo designs. Behind the reception area were small half-wall booths with paisley privacy curtains on top.

  Three artists were in their booths, one woman and two men, one man bent over, the other two looking up when Riley walked in. The guy—who was bald—instantly frowned. As a former police officer, Riley still carried himself with the same presence an officer held, and the guy likely recognized that.

  He got up and moved slowly toward Riley. He stroked his left hand over a long beard in a muddy brown color then ran the back of his hand over his mouth. Riley fixed his gaze on his arm, noting it was clear of any Leah tats, and he wasn’t their suspect.

  He stepped behind the counter and pointed at Riley’s shirt. “What’s Blackwell Tactical?”

  Riley considered making something up, but he figured this guy would see through it. “We’re a group of former soldiers and law enforcement officers who help out people in trouble.”

  “Figured you for a cop.”

  “Good eye. I was a PPB officer for a lot of years.”

  “What can I do for you?” He was outwardly wary now.

  “I need to speak to the shop owner.”

  He jabbed a thumb at his chest. “That’s me. Jared Bones.”

  Riley took out his phone and opened the picture Eryn had located. “I’m hoping you recognize this guy’s arm.”

  Jared stared at the picture and didn’t respond verbally but curled his fingers tightly on the Formica countertop. “What’s he done now?”

  “You know him, then?”

  He nodded and frowned. “Was an artist here until about six months ago. But he had some mental health issues, and I had to ask him to find another place to work.”

  “What kind of issues?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Exactly why do you want to know?”

  “I think he’s stalking my client and may have murdered three women.”

  “Man, seriously? He’s a manic depressive who didn’t like to take his meds. I mean when the mania took control he was a different person…but a killer? Nah, I just don’t see it.”

  “Then maybe you can help me clear his name,” Riley said trying to make this guy’s sharing of information a positive thing. “Like starting with his name?”

  “Milo Belcher.”

  So Riley was right last night. Interesting. “Do you have a picture of him?”

  “Might have.”

  Riley tapped his phone to bring up Leah’s sketch of her stalker. “Does he look like this?”

  “Man. Yeah. That’s him.”

  “Would you be willing to look for an actual photo?”

  Jared stroked his beard again. “This won’t be a problem for the shop, will it? I’m barely making it as is and couldn’t handle bad publicity.”

  “If Milo is the person we’re looking for and it makes the news, I’ll make sure that everyone knows about your cooperation and people will know you did the right thing.”

  “Thanks, man.” He offered his hand for a fist bump.

  Riley obliged him. “About that picture.”

  “I’ll get it now.” He hurried toward the back of his shop and soon disappeared behind heavy green curtains.

  Riley took the time to look at the tattoo drawings on the wall, trying to see if the infinity design was still there. He’d like to claim that it was a unique design he and Leah thought of, but they found it here. He kept looking and finally spotted it on the top row. Number eighty-seven.

  Jared returned with several pictures. Riley flipped through them and anger flared in his gut. He should be happy because they now had a name and could hopefully find this guy. Bu
t the guy looked even more threatening than the sketch portrayed, and Riley could easily imagine the man stalking Leah and killing the women.

  Riley’s stomach twisted in a knot. “These are perfect.”

  “We used to have pictures on our website, but we took them down. These are from the photo shoot.”

  “Can I take them?”

  Jared nodded.

  “Do you have an address for Milo?” Riley asked.

  Jared opened a drawer below the cash register and lifted out an old tattered address book. “I’m old school. Don’t like Big Brother having access to all my records.”

  He swiveled the book to display the address.

  Riley entered it into his phone. “Any idea if Belcher still lives there?”

  Jared shook his head. “He used to hang out at the bar next door, but I haven’t seen him in months. Still, you could check with the owner. Her name’s Windy Washington. Tell her I sent you. We’re kind of a thing, and she’ll help you out.”

  Riley offered his hand for a shake, and then headed for the door but turned back. “Just curious. If Milo doesn’t work here anymore, why’s his name still on your website?”

  “Oh that. Costs too much money to have our web designer change things so I left it. But if what you’re telling me is true, I’ll pay anything to have him removed.”

  Leah stared at the photos, fear taking hold, and her stomach churning. The dark parking garage didn’t help. Could Belcher be following them? Lingering in the dark? The bar owner had told Riley that Belcher still lived in the same place and stopped by the bar regularly, but that Riley would likely find him this morning in his apartment sleeping off a night of binge drinking.

  She searched into the shadowy spaces. The murky corners. Between cars. Looking for him. For this man who might be a killer and might want her dead.

  “Leah, is it him?” Riley asked from behind the wheel. “Your stalker?”

  “Yes.” She jerked her focus away from the garage.