Indivisible

by Kristen Heitzmann

  “I didn’t.” Her face shifted. “I cut up toward the aerie.”

  A reckless hike to take alone. He should never have shown her—not that he’d done so intentionally. The memory came with stark definition. Others may have reached the ledge beneath the aerie, but he’d shared it with no one else. She’d been like a kid sister until that day—or so he’d told himself.

  “This is sick stuff, Tia. There’s a sadist out there—”

  “Which you didn’t tell me the first time.”

  “I’m telling you now. These animals were tortured. And these things escalate.”

  Her eyes flashed. “How do you escalate from …” She waved her hand. “To people?”

  He didn’t want to speculate. The anatomical element scared him.

  “You have to warn everyone, Jonah. Not just me. Tell them what’s happening.”

  “Put Redford in a panic? I don’t know what’s happening here.” He shook his head. “Besides, giving him the spotlight might encourage a step he wouldn’t otherwise take.”

  “But—”

  “Maybe he just hates raccoons.”

  Her jaw fell slack. “You know that’s not it.”

  “Tia, let me do my job. We’re searching this area for evidence.”

  “Found any?”

  “Not much. But sooner or later he’ll make a mistake.”

  “What if it’s later?”

  He understood her concern. But he was not going to put the town in a panic if it was some sick prank. “If I see people alone I’ll caution them, as I did you. Not that it mattered.”

  “People need to know why.”

  “Some people just listen.” She had no idea how complicated an investigation was. What did she think, he could hang a flier and the guy would turn himself in?

  “You might try it yourself sometime.” She shook her head and started back down the trail.

  He jammed his hands in his pockets and left Moser to bury the carnage.

  From the bench seat encircling an aspen cluster, Piper watched Tia coming down the trail. She had a mountaineer’s physique, toned and slender, sinewy, her tanned legs muscular in cargo shorts and hiking boots. She was not breathing hard, but, by the flush of her face and the set of her jaw, something was wrong.

  Piper clutched the paperback to her chest. “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you, but let’s go inside.”

  Piper scooped a leaf off the ground and used it as a bookmark, tucked the paperback under her arm, and followed Tia. “Did you see the eagles?”

  “I saw something else.” Tia leaned the walking stick into the corner of the mud room. “Two raccoons. Jonah said they’d been sewn together, but they had torn themselves apart. It was awful.”

  “What did he mean sewn?”

  “Surgically. Legs removed and organs joined together.”

  Piper recoiled. “That must be what I saw.”

  “When?” Tia hung her jacket on the hook.

  “The day I met the chief. On our path. I thought it was a dead animal. That was the night he warned you not to be out. Remember?”

  Tia slumped. “I didn’t know it was right on our path.”

  “Does he know who did it?”

  “I don’t think he has a clue.”

  “Maybe we can help. Ask around.” She followed Tia to the parlor, flopped onto the settee beside her. “If we get people talking—”

  “Jonah doesn’t want whoever it is getting attention.”

  “But someone might know. People brag. They tell me all kinds of stuff.”

  Tia slid her a look. “So I’ve seen.”

  “I can use that. To investigate.”

  “Jonah won’t like it.”

  “He doesn’t have to know until we have something to tell him.”

  “Piper, this isn’t a game.” Tia pressed the skin between her brows as though staving off a headache. “Those creatures suffered.”

  “I know. That’s why I want to help.”

  Tia shook her head. “Trust me; this isn’t the way to get his attention.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

  Piper blinked. “He’s cute, don’t get me wrong.” Piper drew up her knees and settled into the corner of the settee. “But he’s not interested in me.”

  “Then he’s the only man alive who’s not.” The corners of Tia’s mouth pulled up.

  “Guys here are just starved for someone new.”

  “You think in a year or two you’ll be old news?”

  “A year or two? What would that even be like?”

  “What do you mean?” Tia turned.

  “I’ve never been anywhere a whole year.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “We were sort of like … gypsies.”

  “Gypsies are not tall, blond Barbie-doll people. You look like you had the all-American family.”

  “I do?” She had made friends in most of the different schools, but she’d never thought she looked settled.

  “How come you moved so much?”

  “Let’s just say my family couldn’t do their thing for long in any one place.”

  “What thing?”

  Out of nowhere, tears brimmed her eyes. She hadn’t realized the shame was still so close.

  Tia touched her arm. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “No, it’s just … amazing how many things you can sue for.”

  “Do you mean fraud?”

  “Most companies—especially employers—will settle to avoid the hassle. And there’s enough of them working together, sharing the big settlements, that no name comes up too often. Plus, they don’t look like lowlifes. My mom is really beautiful, and when she claims her new boss came on to her, it’s believable.”

  “It might be true.”

  “What matters is they pay. My aunt specializes in personal injury. My dad and uncle are into auto claims.”

  Tia leaned back. “Wow.”

  Piper rubbed the tickle on her nose, a nervous reaction to talking about it. “I’m the oddball, a mutant, genetically incapable of lying. Every time they tried to involve me as a kid, I got so worked up trying to keep the story straight that I puked.”

  Tia shook her head, bemused.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m going to rip you off now or something.”

  “Why on earth would I think that?” Tia untied her hiking boots and slipped them off. “I know what it’s like to be the odd one out. In your case it’s a good thing.”

  “I’ll bet in your case it is too.”

  Tia didn’t answer. “So you went your own way and ended up here.”

  Piper nodded. “More or less.”

  “Well, I hope you’ve found a place to stay.”

  Piper smiled. “I’d like that. A lot.”

  Jonah had promised Merv he would check out Tom Caldwell’s shed and went there next. He had tried several times before, but Tom hadn’t been home. This time there was smoke rising from the chimney. He glanced past the house to the shed.

  A trickle of sweat ran down his lower back. He imagined the sting of a spider on the nape of his neck. His hands got clammy, and a cloying rage rose up his throat as he stared at a pine shed way too similar to the one in his memories. His nails dug into his palms. His legs came to a leaden stop.

  The door of the house opened, and Caldwell stepped out. “Help you, Chief?”

  There was a sneer in the way he said it. They’d gone to school together, Caldwell three years ahead of him. Sometimes it wouldn’t hurt to have his dad’s reputation, but he didn’t want to beat people to earn it. “Heard a report you’ve booby-trapped your shed. I need to make sure it’s not a public hazard.”

  “Now who would you hear that from, the old suck-up next-door?”

  Jonah shrugged. “Just open it up and I’ll be on my way.”

  “The hell I will. Not without a warrant.”

  “What are you talking about, warrant? I�
��m just saying show me it’s safe.”

  It wasn’t safe. His scalp burned as the hand came down, clawing the hair by the roots, dragging him up. “I’ll teach you to hide, you miserable whelp.” He couldn’t hear out of one ear for a week. But that wasn’t what made the shed a terror.

  Jonah shook off the memory and stalked toward Caldwell’s shed.

  “Stop right there. This is my land, my shed, and I said no.”

  Jonah turned, sick with relief to have it out of his sight. “If I come back with a warrant and find so much as excessive pesticide, I’ll run you in.”

  Without warning, Merv streaked across his yard with an ax. “This half’s across the line.” He started hacking at the shed wall that faced his house.

  Jonah hollered for him to stop. He didn’t know where the properties joined, but this wouldn’t settle the dispute. Caldwell charged, and Jonah charged after him. They reached the wall as Merv ripped out a splintered board. Caldwell shoved Merv to the ground hard enough to rattle his teeth. Just inside the hole, a shelf held bags of yellowish-white crystals.

  Caldwell kicked at Merv while trying to keep his back against the breach, but Jonah had seen enough. “Face the wall, Tom.” He reached for his cuffs.

  Caldwell swung, a maneuver embedded in Jonah’s reflexes. He twisted, then grabbed the man’s arm and bent it up his back. Catching Caldwell’s elbow in the ribs, Jonah took him down, pressing his face into the dirt, a knee between the shoulder blades as he locked the cuffs around his wrists. As much as he resisted using physical force, the scuffle did relieve the pent-up tension of seeing his mom and the dead raccoons. And Tia.

  After shoving Caldwell into the Bronco, he radioed for the sheriff to send a deputy to secure the site until he returned with a search warrant. As soon as the county car arrived, he told Merv to follow them in, called Sue to procure the warrant, and headed for the station.

  Rolling his head side to side in the backseat of the Bronco, Caldwell scrunched up his face. “What died in here?”

  A smile tugged the corners of Jonah’s mouth.

  At the station he pressed Caldwell down onto the metal bench in the booking area and cuffed him to the ring on one end. Caldwell glowered. When Officer Sue Donnelly joined them, Jonah said, “Read him his rights. Might take a few times before he gets it. Have him sign the form when he understands.”

  Caldwell’s nostrils flared, his lip curling up with disgust. “You are making such a mistake.”

  “Call me when he’s through photo and prints.” Jonah could have processed the man himself, but handing it over to Sue reminded him that the smirk on Caldwell’s face did not need punching.

  Twenty minutes into questioning, during which Caldwell mostly smirked at the wall, his attorney arrived. Interesting because Caldwell hadn’t made the phone call—unless he’d somehow speed-dialed his cell from the Bronco with his hands cuffed. Gordon Byne was a small man with a big head—literally. It sat on his shoulders like a bowling ball, with close-set eyeholes and an extra large mouth hole.

  Crying illegal search and seizure, he claimed Merv’s vandalism put whatever they thought they’d seen in plain sight and made the arrest unconstitutional—forgetting, of course, the little matter of assault on an officer.

  In the video-conferencing room, Jonah sat at the desk with the computer and looked up at the screen mounted on the wall. Caldwell sat in a chair next to him. When the magistrate had sworn him in, Jonah gave him Caldwell’s name and address and laid out the arrest. He listed two misdemeanor convictions, no outstanding warrants.

  Then he told Caldwell to raise his right hand, not easy in handcuffs, and Caldwell swore to truthfully tell his side. The assault alone should be enough to hold him over unless the judge believed the spin Caldwell’s lawyer had put on it. Harassment and brutality. Uh-huh.

  The magistrate held Caldwell without bail until morning in the county jail. Judge Walthrup would probably allow bail the next day since the drugs were found through Merv’s alleged trespass and vandalism. In the meantime they had enough to obtain a search warrant for the entire property, and they did.

  Merv had fallen asleep waiting for Caldwell to be processed. Because he’d endangered himself by acting rashly, Jonah cited him for destruction of personal property.

  “It was on my side of the line.”

  “Get proof of that and we’ll talk.”

  “He used it for illegal purposes. You saw it.”

  “I saw. But you had no business interfering.”

  “Got you what you wanted, didn’t I? Got you a look inside.”

  “And an elbow in the ribs. You’re lucky you didn’t get your head kicked in.”

  Grumbling, Merv got to his feet.

  Jonah handed him the citation. “Go home. Stay away from Caldwell.”

  Sue joined him, and they went over together to search Caldwell’s house, shed, and pickup. Parked beside the deputy sheriff’s vehicle, Jonah pulled on the black fitted gloves designed to protect him from getting stuck by a contaminated needle, the worst part of running their hands under cushions and down gaps in upholstery.

  “Where’s the deputy?”

  He followed Sue’s gaze to the house. “The shed, I guess. We’ll start there.” Adrenaline overrode his issues with the structure. He would do his job.

  The shed door was slightly ajar. The deputy must have entered before the warrant arrived, a technical violation, especially if the judge had refused. Unless he’d had cause. Jonah called out so the man would know they’d arrived.

  No answer. Sue’s worried brow reflected his own concern. Had there been a toxic trap? He motioned her to stand behind him, then eased the door open, watching for tripwire, sensor, or laser that might trigger or have already triggered something.

  Deputy Stone lay in a heap, his gun a few inches from his hand, the bloody swelling beneath the graying hair at the base of his head indicative of a blow. Jonah looked up for something that might have been rigged to the door. Nothing. He stooped and felt the deputy’s pulse.

  The man moaned, rising painfully to consciousness.

  Jonah helped him roll to his shoulder. “I’ll call you an ambulance, Ray.”

  Ray Stone reached behind his head. “Just a bump.”

  “A nasty one.”

  “Was waiting by the house. Heard someone out here.”

  “Inside?” Jonah shot a look around the dim shed for potential hiding spots.

  “Thought so. But he got me from behind.”

  “I’ll get JT to have a look at you.” The EMT with the fire department could better assess the deputy’s condition. He made the call.

  Sue came back to the doorway. “I’ve done a perimeter search. No one in the house or yard.”

  “Was the house open?”

  She nodded. “Back door unlocked.”

  “Could use some air,” Ray said.

  Jonah helped him sit up. The deputy holstered his gun and got to his feet. Outside the door, he leaned against the shed.

  “Do your search,” he said. “But I’m not sure what you’ll find.”

  Distracted by the fallen officer, he hadn’t searched the back shelves or anything else. Now he stepped inside. Sue followed.

  The first thing he noticed were the animal skins—rabbit, fox, and … raccoon. The skins were stacked on two wooden picnic tables and included the heads. No indication they’d been sewn, together or otherwise.

  “Nice,” Sue murmured. “Think he shot enough bunnies?”

  “Not a crime. But it does suggest a weapon.”

  “Hunting rifle.” Sue unloaded and passed it over.

  His flashlight illuminated the shelf he’d seen through the damaged siding, a dim rectangle of light already showing what he did not want to see. The shelf was empty.

  Byne’s surprise appearance should have told him someone else was in the game. They might have been in the house when Jonah arrived the first time, or in close enough proximity to see the arrest go down. With the deputy out front,
they could have gone out the back to the shed.

  “That’s where it was?” Sue’s light ran over the empty shelf, drag markings in the dust but nothing else.

  “Check it for residue.”

  He scanned the rest of the shed. He’d half expected to find a lab, but whoever had taken the inventory would not have had time to disassemble the equipment and ingredients and rearrange the clutter. “I’ll start in the house.” The sooner he left the shed, the better. If he saw a three-legged stool and a shotgun, he’d show Sue a side of himself he hid like leprosy.

  The house appeared tossed, but the piles of clothes and trash, empty bottles, and food containers heaped in corners could be how Tom lived. A ratty taxidermied boar stood beside the television. Classy.

  Jonah moved systematically through the disaster, searching the sofa and stuffed chairs for torn or loose bottom liners, mattress and box spring for slits. He searched the piles of clothes and the few in closets and drawers, checked in boxes and the file cabinet. He eyed the carpet for untacked edges and found a slack corner in the bedroom closet.

  Tugging it up revealed a loose board under which a wad of cash had been secreted. By itself, that meant nothing, but he bagged it in hopes of more incriminating evidence—like the .40 caliber handgun shoved deeper into the gap. He removed the magazine, ejected the round in the chamber, and bagged it.

  The smaller of the two fire trucks arrived as he moved to the kitchen. He looked out the window and saw Sue and Ray explaining the situation—Sue, how they’d found him unconscious, and Ray, how it was only a bump. Jonah checked the cabinet and refrigerator contents and found another wad of bills in a bag of frozen peas.

  Either Caldwell distrusted banks or had need of ready cash. He found ammunition for the handgun in the flatware drawer beside the steak knives, along with a second handgun, same caliber. He checked and found it loaded like the first.

  Sue joined him with a bagged cell phone and charger. “He kept this in the shed. Want me to run down the numbers in his log?”

  He reached for the bag. “I’ll do that. Anything else?”

  “A Bunsen burner and bottle caps.”

  “So he’s using.”

  “Or it’s for clients to test the wares.”

  Jonah nodded. “Good thought. You’re pretty sharp.”