by Dan Padavona
LeVar laughed.
“Hardly. Andy Clem hasn’t shown his face since the door closed. It appears he’s enjoying himself.”
“Hey, LeVar?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you mean what you said earlier? That I could catch criminals as a profiler without entering the field?” She glared at her legs. “Because I won’t win too many footraces with these legs.”
“Sure. I mean, I suppose so. Not that I’ve read job descriptions for criminal profiling positions, but I guess they have openings for people with your . . . unique circumstances.”
“I wouldn’t have to work for the FBI full-time. They might have consultant positions too.”
LeVar snapped his fingers and pointed at Scout.
“There’s a question you should ask Scarlett Bell the next time she messages you.” He threw up his hands. “Now who are you staring at?”
Scout pushed herself up on her seat for a better view.
“Isn’t that the guy from the SUV?”
LeVar followed Scout’s eyes to the sidewalk. A man in a t-shirt, running shorts, and a baseball cap approached the convenience store from a busy intersection, jogging at a brisk pace.
“I’m not sure.”
“It’s him, LeVar. Check out the sunglasses, the leathery skin, the square chin. That’s the guy from the SUV.”
LeVar picked up the binoculars, one eye watching room nine in case Andy Clem and his secretary revealed themselves. Damn, Scout was right. Same guy from the parking lot. He appeared a little too inconspicuous in his running gear, though LeVar acknowledged the guy might just be out for a lunchtime jog. The man shot a quick glance into the store as he approached. LeVar’s heart hammered until he ran past the convenience store and continued down the block.
“That’s the same guy. But he’s just out for a run.”
Scout squirmed.
“He’s up to something.”
“Tell you what. If he circles the block and comes back, I’ll call the sheriff’s department. The office is only three blocks away.”
“Promise you’ll call?”
“I swear.”
Scout chewed her nail, dividing her attention between the Pink Flamingo hotel and the empty sidewalk that led toward the convenience store. A minute later, the jogger returned. LeVar sat forward. No way the man had circled the block in that amount of time. He must have cut through an alley.
As LeVar reached for his phone, the jogger stopped on the sidewalk outside the convenience store, hands on his knees as he pretended to catch his breath. The distinct bulge in the jogger’s pocket grabbed LeVar’s attention.
LeVar dialed the sheriff’s department before Scout shouted, “Gun!”
8
A little after noon, dispatch radioed Thomas and Lambert about a robbery in progress at the gas station convenience store beside the Pink Flamingo hotel. Thomas punched the accelerator and blared his siren, lights whirling as he raced across the village. With a pale face, Lambert held the door handle until the cruiser screeched to a halt outside the store.
Thomas and Lambert shared a confused glance. Deputy Aguilar held an unknown man face-down on the blacktop, the suspect’s arm twisted halfway up his back in a painful hammerlock, Aguilar’s free hand pressed against the guy’s cheek to stop his squirming. A revolver lay beyond the suspect’s reach. Aguilar let up on the man’s face and retrieved the gun.
“She’s not supposed to be here,” Thomas said, shoving the door open.
Lambert hopped out on the passenger side with his gun drawn.
“Easy now, Sheriff. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”
Aguilar swung her head when they approached. Until now, Thomas hadn’t noticed LeVar Hopkins kneeling beside his lead deputy, keeping the suspect under control. The motor of his black Chrysler Limited purred beside the pumps. To the sheriff’s astonishment, Scout Mourning sat in the passenger seat, pushing herself up for a better look. The girl gave Thomas a hesitant wave. He blinked at the teenage girl as he approached Aguilar.
“The creep’s name is Oliver McCoy,” Aguilar said.
“Let go of my arm,” McCoy said, wincing.
“Not until you stop fighting.”
Lambert took a knee beside Aguilar and wrenched the man’s other arm behind his back. With Lambert’s help, Aguilar slapped handcuffs on McCoy. Thomas moved his eyes between the prone suspect and his deputy, who was supposed to be on desk duty.
“What happened here?”
“LeVar Hopkins observed Mr. McCoy canvassing the convenience store. After McCoy pulled a gun, Hopkins phoned the department.”
“And you responded?”
“Sheriff, you were on the other side of the village with Deputy Lambert. I was the closest deputy to the scene, so I responded.”
Thomas worked his jaw back and forth.
“You took him down unarmed.”
“No,” said LeVar, rising to his feet. “I did.”
“You?”
“I was across the street, working a case when I . . . when Scout caught McCoy removing a gun from his pocket. He’d canvassed the store for at least twenty minutes.”
“You know better to confront an armed criminal. Leave it to the sheriff’s department, LeVar.”
“I wanted to. But the cruiser wouldn’t have arrived in time, and I couldn’t let him rob the place with the store packed with shoppers.”
Thomas scratched his head and shared a glance with Lambert. The tall deputy shrugged.
Aguilar said, “When I reached the scene, Mr. Hopkins had Mr. McCoy on the ground and was fighting for control of the gun. I stepped in and took the gun from McCoy.”
“That asshole knocked my tooth out,” McCoy said, wrenching his head toward LeVar. “I’ll sue him, and I’ll sue your entire department.”
“Good luck with that,” Thomas said. “You read McCoy his rights?”
“I did,” Aguilar said.
She gave Thomas a blow-by-blow description of the arrest. Thomas tilted his head at Lambert.
“Take him away.” As Lambert yanked a protesting McCoy to his feet, Thomas rounded on Aguilar and LeVar. “What’s gotten into you two? You’re supposed to be on desk duty,” Thomas said, glaring at Aguilar. He swung his eyes to LeVar. “And you’re an unarmed citizen fighting a thug with a revolver.”
“County law allows me to intervene in an emergency,” said Aguilar, straightening her back. “Regardless of my status, I’m still an active deputy, sworn to protect Nightshade County and its citizens.”
“And McCoy gave me no choice,” LeVar said. “Either I tackled him from behind, or he barged into a crowded store with a gun. Who knows how many people he might have hurt or killed?”
The cruiser pulled away with Lambert driving and McCoy in the back. Thomas released a breath.
“I’ll need a lift back to the station. We’ll discuss what happened during the ride. Right now, I want a minute alone with LeVar.”
“That’s perfect. I should interview the store manager. Maybe this McCoy guy caused trouble in the past.”
When Aguilar entered the store, Thomas threw his hands up.
“Before we get into what happened here, will you explain why Scout is in the passenger seat of your car?”
Scout appeared to be reading a magazine and sipping a soda, though Thomas caught her stealing glances at the two of them. LeVar pushed the hair off his forehead and swiveled his eyes toward the Chrysler.
“I wanted to bring Scout on a surveillance mission. You know she always wanted to help in the field.”
“Is that wise? I’m all for including Scout, but not putting her in danger. LeVar, the guy could have turned the gun on you and shot Scout next.”
LeVar studied the tops of his sneakers.
“I acted without thinking.”
“Look, you’ll get no argument from me as the sheriff of Nightshade County. You’re a good Samaritan, and it’s probable you saved multiple lives. But as a friend and someone who car
es about you, I’m begging you to exercise better judgment. If McCoy shot you—”
“He’s not a hardened criminal, Shep. I guarantee you’ll find this is the first time he’s ever done something like this. Getting the jump on him was easy. He never saw me coming.”
“It was still an unnecessary risk. Does Naomi know Scout is accompanying you on cases?”
“She approves. And for the record, Scout caught the guy. I was too focused on the infidelity case to notice McCoy. Scout picked up on all the clues—McCoy studied the storefront from across the street, then jogged past the front door before returning.”
“He was checking the place out, likely assessing the security.”
“Right. By the time he returned and pulled the gun, I had no time to think things through. I just reacted.”
Thomas removed his hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“I’ll need statements from both you and Scout.”
“Understood.”
Scout waved her arms over her head and pulled their attention. The girl twisted around in her seat and pointed at the Pink Flamingo hotel. LeVar’s eyes widened before he sprinted to the Chrysler, snatched a camera off the front seat, and shot pictures of a man in a business suit leading an unknown woman out of room nine. After the man and woman piled into separate vehicles, LeVar reached across the seat and gave Scout a high five. Then he jogged back to Thomas and pumped a fist in the air.
“I take it you cracked your case.”
“The infidelity case,” LeVar said with a wide grin. “I can’t wait to tell Chelsey I caught them on photo. And this time I remembered to remove the lens cap.”
Aguilar finished her interview with the store manager and pushed through the doors. Thomas set a hand on LeVar’s shoulder.
“Follow us back to the station. And, LeVar?”
“Yeah?”
“You did good.”
9
Incense sharpened the air inside Dr. Ryka Mandal’s office. The doctor kept the shades drawn. The atmosphere matched the color of the decor—caramel and mahogany. A glass coffee table divided the room. Deputy Aguilar slouched in a cushioned chair on one side. Mandal crossed her legs as she wrote on a notepad on the opposite side. Mandal’s sable hair dangled past the middle of her back. She had a long, pointed nose and a thick accent Aguilar couldn’t place. Something Middle Eastern. The doctor scribbled without looking up. Aguilar didn’t trust what she was writing.
The doctor set the pen and pad aside and clasped her hands over her knee.
“Tell me again about the incident at the convenience store.”
Aguilar cleared her throat. This was the second time Mandal had asked about the arrest. It was standard procedure for law enforcement officers to ask the interviewee the same question multiple times. It was an old trick to trip up the interviewee and catch him in a lie. Was Mandal following the same playbook?
“Dispatch received a call about an armed robbery in progress. The sheriff and Deputy Lambert were on the other side of the village, interviewing neighbors about another case.”
“The woman’s hand inside the church.”
“Yes. The convenience store is three blocks from the station. I responded.”
“Did you carry your service weapon?”
“No. I don’t have access to my gun. Haven’t since the county told me to undergo therapy.”
“So you responded to an armed robbery without sufficient means to defend yourself. How do you feel about that?”
Aguilar crossed her legs and scrunched her brow.
“I’m not sure. I didn’t have time to question my actions. When I arrived, a friend of ours had the suspect on the ground. I took over and wrestled the revolver out of the suspect’s hand.”
“You could have been shot. That didn’t worry you?”
“Not at all.” Mandal gave Aguilar a telling glance that unsettled her. “Should it have?”
Aguilar hoped Mandal was ready to declare her healed and fit for field duty again. The doctor paused several seconds before continuing.
“Let’s return to the Officer Neal shooting.”
Aguilar’s pulse raced. Just thinking about the shootout slicked her brow with sweat.
“Okay.”
“Do you still dream about Officer Neal?”
Aguilar shook her head, biting her lip to cover the lie. Every night, she bolted upright with the image of Neal’s bloody face burned into her vision. Which made little sense. She’d shot Neal in the chest and shoulder. Strange how the subconscious morphed her memory into a macabre scene from a horror movie.
“Never?” Mandal asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Not since we last spoke.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“Is it normal for the dreams to go away?”
“In due time, yes. Your recovery seems to be moving at an unusually fast pace. How are you around loud noises?”
Aguilar shifted in her seat.
“Sometimes they make me flinch.”
“Also normal,” Mandal said, softening her eyes. “Like the bad dreams, the fear of loud noises will go away in time.” Mandal leaned forward. “Something else is bothering you, Deputy.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Your body language. Now is the time to talk about what you’re going through. You won’t recover until you’re honest about your feelings.”
Aguilar chewed her thumbnail and stared at the window. A sliver of sunshine crept around the curtain and drew a sharp line across the carpet.
“Deputy?”
“It’s just that Officer Neal must have had family, right?”
“You told me during our first appointment that Neal was unmarried, no children.”
“But he must have a brother or sister. At his age, I assume his parents are still alive.”
“That would be simple to confirm. But yes, I assume you’re correct.”
The deputy lowered her face into her hands and massaged the guilt away.
“I should be sad. No matter what Neal did, somebody loves and misses him. His coworkers pass his desk every morning, and Neal isn’t there anymore. No more stupid jokes at the water cooler, no more rides in the cruiser.”
“That’s Officer Neal’s fault. He murdered his own partner, correct?”
Aguilar nodded to herself. It seemed she was alone with her thoughts, Mandal’s presence like a voice from another room.
“It’s just that I should experience guilt for taking a loved one away. And I don’t.”
Mandal waited until Aguilar met her eyes.
“Isn’t that what you’re expressing now? You experience guilt every waking moment, Deputy Aguilar. It’s plain in your facial expression, as well as your words. But your actions were justified. Would you experience the same guilt if Deputy Lambert or Trooper Fitzgerald shot Officer Neal?”
Aguilar sat back.
“I suppose not.”
“Stop being hard on yourself.” Mandal glanced at the clock. “It’s time we wrap up our discussion. Thank you for opening up today. You’re making excellent progress.”
Mandal closed her notepad and clicked the pen. Hope thrummed through Aguilar’s body.
“Does that mean I’m ready for field work?”
“Not yet. I’d like to see you again next week.”
“Can’t we move the appointment up?”
“I’m booked through next Tuesday. Besides, you can’t rush the process. Like the body after experiencing a traumatic injury, the mind requires time to heal.”
Aguilar sighed. Another week of desk work awaited her.
She blinked and sucked in a breath. A dead man lay between them, torrents of lifeblood pumping out of his chest, his punctured neck, and from the hole between his eyes.
Aguilar rubbed her eyes and looked again. Officer Neal vanished. The coffee table and carpet replaced the horrific image. Her eyes darted to Mandal, who adjusted her skirt. Aguilar leaped from the chair, afraid the doctor had noticed.
“No, it’s nothing. I just remembered I had another appointment in fifteen minutes.” Mandal narrowed her brow, unconvinced. Aguilar threw her bag over her shoulder. “I gotta run. See you next week.”
Aguilar closed the door and leaned against the wall. Her head spun, black dots blanketing her vision like a swarm of bees. This was the first time the visions of Officer Neal attacked her in broad daylight. Who was she kidding? Things had gotten worse, not better.
But if Aguilar told anyone, Dr. Mandal would never allow her to return to field work.
10
Thomas ruffled his hair with a towel. Still damp from the shower, he tossed on shorts and a T-shirt and wandered out to the deck. Late afternoon sunshine painted the lawn in orange and yellow tones.
Outdoors, the lake breeze carried smoke from the shore where LeVar’s mother, Serena Hopkins, grilled grouper. LeVar carried dishes to the picnic table as Naomi wheeled Scout down the concrete pathway. Jack, the enormous puppy Thomas rescued from the state park, wagged his tail beside the grill and accepted scraps. A warm contentment settled in Thomas’s chest as he crossed the lawn to join the others. After a long day, it was nice to spend time with friends. Which upset him, because he needed to confront LeVar and Scout over the surveillance mission with Naomi present. He couldn’t keep the robbery to himself. Naomi needed to know.
LeVar saw Thomas coming and busied himself with the grouper. With his mother’s help, LeVar sliced the grouper onto buns and constructed sandwiches.
“Hey, Thomas,” Naomi said, parking Scout’s wheelchair beside the picnic table. “How was work?”
“Eventful. I’ll tell you about it after we eat.”
LeVar and Scout shared a glance.
The sandwiches featured a tangy mango dressing of LeVar’s design. After they finished eating, Thomas set his hands on the table and turned to Naomi.
“There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”
“Is this about work?”
Thomas retold the story, emphasizing that the would-be thief pulled a gun before LeVar brought him down. Scout lowered her eyes as Naomi placed a hand against her chest.