Kylie Brant - What the Dead Know (The Mindhunters Book 8)

by Unknown

  Because it would have been certain death last night had she not dropped the automatic garage door opener. A matter of seconds had been all that had saved her. As Keira got into the car, she decided that discovering Yembley’s whereabouts yesterday evening would go a long way toward answering one important question. She still wasn’t all too sure what he thought he’d gain by killing her.

  Keira couldn’t allow herself to get tripped up trying to second-guess possible motives. It was always a mistake to try to ascribe rational thinking to people who committed irrational acts.

  She had no sooner finished issuing a BOLO alert on Yembley’s vehicle for UP law enforcement than Phil contacted her.

  “Any luck at Yembley’s place?”

  Sending one last glance at the dilapidated house in her rearview mirror, she turned out onto the main road. “He wasn’t there, but he had been. I just radioed a Be On the Lookout on his truck for the surrounding counties.”

  “Probably not a bad idea. I got another name for you and it’s in the approximate area, so thought you might check it out on your way back. Burt Kasim.” Phil rattled off the address, which Keira mentally placed about seven miles from here. The name sounded familiar but she wasn’t able to place it. “Don’t know that I’d say he had a grudge against Danny so much as he was constantly calling a couple of years ago. A crackpot I’d guess you’d say. Vandalism and noise complaints. Used to count how many times he saw a patrol unit go by and then claimed his area wasn’t getting its fair share of department protection. Raised a stink about it at some commissioner meetings about three years back.”

  “Sounds like what I was told about Arnie Hassert’s problem with my dad,” she said. “Mostly nuisance stuff.”

  “Yeah. The difference is he’s on both the list you made and on the one we’ve been working on for Finn. He’s got a trapper’s license, and he won the 2009 UP National Sportsman championship. We’re finding a few names that hit all areas we’re triangulating. He’s worth checking out.”

  After promising to do so, she looked at Finn. “This is starting to feel like searching for a splinter in a snow bank.”

  He shifted to a more comfortable position in the seat. The vehicle didn’t have as much room as the SUV she usually drove. Given the damage from last night’s shooting, it was going to be a while before she’d have her vehicle back. “Is that Michigan speak for finding the needle in the haystack?”

  “It’s Michigan speak for what’s likely to be a huge waste of time.”

  “Not totally,” he disputed mildly. While she was already frustrated by what she was certain was going to be a long fruitless day, his expression was impassive. “Even though we don’t know if the shooter and the killer are one and the same, we’re still working through possible offenders with a grudge and a trapper’s license. We’ll hit on one or both of those eventually.”

  “Can I quote you on that?” She slowed for a buck with an impressive rack to leap out of the ditch and bound across the blacktop, making its way to an abandoned logging road.

  “You can quote me on one thing. I’m not leaving the UP before your shooter and your father’s killer are brought to justice.” He settled back in his seat and turned his face toward the window. “You’ve already noted my stubbornness before. Whatever game this offender is playing, I have no intention of letting him win.”

  _______

  Boone hung around the house later than usual, because he was expecting the call. Hearing Dorie Hassert blather on about the bitch sheriff almost getting herself blown away last night had been a shock. The old cow had a way of running on long past the time he’d gotten tired of listening, but she was a fountain of information about the subjects he was interested in. He’d let her talk, a hot arrow of rage lodging inside him as she spewed forth gossip.

  Saxon was alive. That was the important thing to focus on.

  The call came earlier than he would have expected. It was light outside, but just barely. “Yeah.”

  “I’m in your drive. Go out and open your shed. I don’t want anyone seeing me here.”

  He thought about what was in his shed and gave a hard smile. That wouldn’t figure into his plans at all. “I’ll back out of the garage. You can keep your truck in there.”

  The response wasn’t long in coming. “Goddammit. Just do what I tell…” Boone disconnected the call and pulled on his boots. Shrugged into his coat, but didn’t fasten it before heading to the attached garage. He raised the overhead door and backed out, arcing around to allow the pickup to drive inside. Turning off the engine, he got out and let himself in the house again, unsurprised to find Bruce Yembley already standing in his kitchen, Boone’s borrowed rifle in his hand.

  “Give me the keys to your truck.” The bastard didn’t ask. Didn’t think he needed to. He was used to people being too damn afraid of him to refuse him anything. He took a mug out of the cupboard and helped himself to the coffee that brewed automatically every day at four AM. “Mine’s leaking oil and I gotta take a trip.”

  “How’d the rifle work?” Boone resisted the urge to plow his fist into the other man’s face. But that wouldn’t be wise, and it was always the end game that mattered. Bruce Yembley was dangerous. But so were some wild animals, until you outsmarted them. Moving to the counter, he picked up the coffee he’d been drinking while waiting for the phone to ring. “Did you get the coyotes on your property?”

  Pests, that’s what the other man had claimed. Had to get rid of them before his dog showed up missing some day. Asshole probably didn’t even own a dog.

  “Oh, yeah, I got the bastard.” The other man grinned broadly, as if to a secret punch line. “Don’t have to worry about being bothered anymore. No one needs to know that I’m driving your vehicle either. Keep your mouth shut about it.”

  “I won’t say a word.” He took the rifle from Yembley and with a practiced move unloaded it, shoving the unspent ammo into a drawer. Son of a bitch had probably been too dumb to pick up his fucking brass, too, not that it mattered. Nothing about the weapon was going to lead them to Boone

  “You in a hurry?” He leaned against the counter like he had all the time in the world. “Got something out in the shed you might be interested in.”

  Yembley snorted, took a gulp of coffee. “I don’t want to see any of your damn furs if that’s what you’re talking about. Got my own. Plus, I’ve got better things to do. I’m sort of in a hurry to get moving. I’ve got an appointment to get to.”

  He hid his smile by raising the mug to his lips. His mother had been right, all those years ago. Brains really did win out against brawn. “Oh, I think you’re going to find this interesting. I can promise it’s one of a kind.”

  The other man looked at the old kitchen clock on the wall and then lifted a shoulder. “Fine. But if it’s another one of those damn animals you got stuffed, you’re gonna give me your keys and some cash. You haven’t paid me for the last time I patched you up after you got winged with a bullet. Never thought my short stint working with a veterinarian would come in so handy.” He trudged after Boone out the front door and down the steps, following the path to the shed. It had snowed a couple more inches last night. Time to shovel again. Boone made a mental note as he walked up and punched in the code to the keypad lock he had on the overhead door.

  “Since when do you keep this place heated?” Yembley ducked inside ahead of him as the door descended again. The man walked by the weapon bench and gazed around impatiently. Boone set the rifle on the bench and knew the exact moment the other man saw the woman.

  “What. The. Fuck.” He stalked toward the blond waitress Boone had hanging from her cuffs fastened around the overhead pipe. “That’s Tiffany Whatsherface. From the bar.”

  He turned back to him, a nasty smile on his face. “You fuck her yet? Because I ain’t leaving here until I take my turn. Bitch has been giving me grief for months.”

  He gestured expansively, the knife he’d grabbed from the bench hidden up his sleeve. “I have
plans for her. But if you want a piece, be my guest.” As if Yembley would have asked permission. The woman hadn’t fully regained consciousness. Boone must have used more chloroform last night than he’d thought.

  He waited until the other man had both hands on the woman before closing the distance between them and thrusting the knife between his ribs. Then he twisted the weapon viciously.

  Yembley screamed, a surprisingly shrill sound. “What the…” The man staggered forward into the woman’s listless body, sending it swaying. He tried to reach a hand behind him, fingers grappling for the handle. “You fuck…you…kill…you…”

  “I don’t think so.” Boone shot a foot out and shoved the larger man over it. Yembley fell hard, smashing his face against the metal grate that ran through the center of the building. “You stupid fucker.” Pent up hatred propelled the kick he aimed at the man’s wound. The howl Yembley let out would rival any emitted by the coyotes the man had purported to be hunting. Boone stomped on the back of his thigh, gratified to hear the femur crack. “Your problem has always been forgetting that you don’t make a move without my okay. Ever. You could have ruined everything. If you had, I would have gutted you like the animal you are. As it is…” He reached down to lift the man’s head with a hand to his hair. “You’re still gonna die. But not before we have some fun once it gets dark.”

  _______

  As it turned out, Burt Kasim did know his way around a rifle. Keira and Finn discovered that for themselves since the man was aiming one at them when he swung open the front door of his ranch-style home.

  “Whoa, buddy.” Finn raised his hands placatingly.

  Keira wasn’t in the mood to talk the man down from whatever might be igniting his temper. “You are going to want to put that weapon away, Mr. Kasim before I haul your ass to jail for threatening a law enforcement officer with deadly force.”

  “I haven’t threatened anybody. Yet.” The man lowered the barrel. “You here about my complaint?”

  Making a split second decision, Keira nodded. “But we’re not having this conversation while you’re armed. Put that rifle down and unload it.” The man surveyed them balefully from beneath bushy brows just long enough for Keira’s hand to creep up to the weapon strapped at her side. Finally, he obeyed.

  “You give a lot of orders, but just remember, I pay your salary.” He nodded toward Finn, likely mistaking him for a deputy. “Yours, too. You both work for me. And it’s about time county employees started listening to the taxpayers, instead of the other way around.”

  “We’re here to listen.” Keira scanned the room behind him. “Are you alone? Do you have anyone else in there with you?”

  “’Course I’m alone,” the man snapped. “It’s my house. Live here by myself.” He raised a shaking finger and pointed it toward the road in front of the drive. “But that don’t matter. What matters is what your county folks did for the second time this winter. Happens damn near every year and I’m sick and tired of it.”

  Keira followed the direction he indicated and understood the source of his fury. His mailbox at the side of the road had been knocked off its post and laid in the snow next to it.

  “I’ve called the courthouse a dozen times. Tried finding that little weasel Wilson at the county garage, too. He’s ducking my calls, the bastard. His plows did that, early this morning. Fucking snowplow drivers must be blind. They go too damn fast and don’t give a shit about the damage they do to private property.”

  She looked at the man again. “It’s Saturday, Mr. Kasim.” When he screwed up his face uncomprehendingly, she added, “Most county offices are closed. The county engineer isn’t ignoring your calls, he’s home for the weekend. But if you agree to answer a couple questions for me, I will call Mr. Wilson myself and have him personally phone you, if you give me your number.” She wasn’t entirely sure she could get Roger to do that. And she was reluctant to ask for another favor from a man who made her even more uncomfortable now that she knew about him and her mother decades ago.

  Her words seemed to work some sort of magic on Kasim. He recited his cell number as he pulled up the suspender that had started sliding down one bony shoulder. “Well, that’s all I want. What any citizen wants really. For their elected officials to show some sort of accountability to the public.” Keira didn’t bother pointing out that the county engineer was not an elected position. “What questions did you want to ask?”

  “Have you heard about the shooting that took place near Hancock Road in Munising about five-thirty last night?”

  Kasim puffed out his bottom lip, shook his head. “Nope. Don’t have a TV and haven’t had the radio on today. You talking a hunter or did someone get shot?”

  “Multiple shots were fired at the sheriff last night.” Finn took over the conversation. “We’re questioning county residents to find out whether anyone might have seen or heard something.”

  “How the hell would I hear anything clear out here? Shit, I’m at least twenty miles from there.” He looked at the two of them suspiciously. “What are you really asking?”

  “Maybe you were in town and saw something. We think the shooter was parked on the side of a public road. Anyone going by…”

  Burt shook his head. “Didn’t go by because I wasn’t out. I haven’t been near Munising in days. I mostly only go in to stop by the sporting goods store or to get groceries.”

  “Good night to stay in.” Keira offered him an insincere smile. “You were home alone?”

  Clearly tiring of the conversation the man huffed, “Already said I lived by myself, didn’t I?”

  “You did.” She nodded and sent Finn a glance. This trip had been as big a waste of time as she’d predicted.

  “That rifle you were holding…is it the one you won the 2009 Sportsman Championship with?”

  “Damn straight.” The man puffed out his non-existent chest, clad in a dingy white tee shirt. “Competition was stiff that year, but I beat them all. Some of the best hunters around entered that contest, but I took home the gold. Not your father, of course,” he added to Keira. “He must have taken a look at the registrants and figured he couldn’t compete.”

  “That must have been it.”

  “Heard the DNR shot that bear they thought mighta attacked him. Guess there’re different rules for when the government takes down animals out of season.” The man was getting agitated again. “The conservation officers sure seem to think so. Always sneaking up on folks going about their business. Telling them they’re doing this thing wrong or that. I’m just saying, this damn country is to the point where there’s a cop breathing down our neck every time we turn around. It’s time for real Americans to…”

  “I’ll be sure and pass on your message to the county engineer.” Keira broke in before he could work himself back up to a full-fledged rant. He was wrong about the bear; it had only been sedated and released, but Kasim would believe whatever fit his views. He’d never see the irony of wanting to be free of government interference at the same time he enjoyed having his road plowed and his property protected. His type never did.

  “Okay,” Finn said as he fastened his seatbelt when they got back to the car. “That might have been wasted effort. I have a hard time imagining that pipsqueak hiding in the trees waiting to squeeze a shot off at you. Especially since he didn’t seem to have any particular beef with you, per se.”

  “Not me, just anyone wearing a uniform.” Keira started the engine, pointed the vehicle down the drive. “His mindset is shared by plenty of people in the state, many far more dangerous than he is. Michigan has the second largest militia group presence outside of Texas, and some of the groups are active on the UP.” At his quick look, she added, “Most are just fervent gun enthusiasts. Survivalists. At any rate, I’m willing to admit that Kasim, as annoying as he was, might have given me one idea.”

  “I’m all ears.” He had his phone out and was texting as he spoke.

  “It was when he starting going on about the DNR.” Keira w
aited for two cars to go by, which passed for heavy traffic in the area before pulling out of the drive onto the road. “Conservation officers are spread pretty thin, and the UP has lots of state and national forests, not to mention major waterways to patrol. Nearest DNR office is Marquette, and officers handle multiple counties. Chandler is one I know.” She couldn’t recall now whether he’d been among those who had responded to the search for her father. That scene was all a bit of a blur now. She shoved the memory aside before it could take root and bloom. “He’s someone who’s out in the field a lot, as Kasim noted, because of his enforcement duties. If he’s around, I’d like to pick his brain.”

  “He lives in Munising?”

  “No, Marquette.” She hit an icy area on the road and the cruiser fishtailed slightly before she righted it again. “But he grew up in Au Train, and his dad still lives there. The man’s disabled and Beau spends a lot of time with him.”

  “I take it Au Train is close.”

  She shot him a grin. “Everything’s relatively close in Alger County. It’s on our way. I just hope he’s around. A conversation with him might end up being the most helpful one of the day.”

  Beau Chandler was not only in Au Train, he was outside splitting wood when they drove up toward his father’s house. Seeing the cruiser, he set down the ax on the stump he was using as a base and headed toward them. “Keira.” His features wreathed in a broad smile when she got out of the vehicle. “This is an unexpected surprise. You working Saturdays now?”

  “When it’s called for. How you doing, Beau?”

  After the conversation she and Tiffany had had about the man, it took more effort than it should have to keep her eyes off his Adam’s apple. Okay, it was large, she admitted silently, but nothing like Tiff had made out. And the guy was genuinely nice if a bit on the quiet side.

  Beau turned to look at Finn quizzically. “New deputy?”