by Dan Padavona
“It’s true I gave my approval. I’m all for Scout pursuing her interests, provided LeVar doesn’t mind her tagging along. But I hadn’t heard about the gun.”
Naomi glared at her daughter. Scout sighed and opened her mouth to answer before LeVar cut in.
“If it wasn’t for Scout, that guy would have held up the convenience store. He might have shot someone.”
Naomi quirked an eyebrow.
“How did my daughter prevent a robbery?”
LeVar recounted Scout spotting Oliver McCoy as he studied the storefront from across the road.
“She’s the real deal, Mrs. Mourning. I joke that she blabs about profiling all the time, but she profiled that guy to a T.”
“Even so, I’m uncomfortable putting my daughter at risk. Has anything like this happened before?”
“There’s risk during any case, but surveillance is usually pretty safe. Boring, even. The robbery wasn’t related to our investigation. It was a matter of wrong place, wrong time.”
Serena glared at her son. It was clear this was the first she’d heard about the incident.
“You could have been shot, LeVar. What got into your head, jumping out of the car and tackling a man with a gun like some half-ass superhero? And you left Scout alone.”
LeVar shook his head and stared at his half-eaten dinner.
“I messed up.”
“LeVar was right about one thing,” Thomas said, interjecting his opinion. “Oliver McCoy isn’t a hardened criminal. He’s an average Joe down on his luck, and he made a terrible decision. A little jail time will scare him straight. I doubt he’s ever fired a gun. He was more apt to shoot his foot off than hurt anybody.”
“That only means LeVar was lucky,” Serena said, placing a comforting hand atop Naomi’s. “Something terrible might happen next time.”
“Mom, I’m entering law enforcement after I graduate. Sooner or later, I’ll confront an armed suspect. You can’t protect me forever.”
“Fool.” Serena rolled her eyes. “The academy will train you before they hand you a service weapon. You’re still green. Think before you act, especially with Scout in the car.”
“Yes, ma’am. I won’t let it happen again.”
Thomas glanced around the table and settled his attention on Naomi.
“Where do we stand? Do you still approve of Scout investigating with LeVar?”
Naomi set her chin on her fist and peered over the water. The sun reflected on the lake in an elongated blaze.
“I’m fine with Scout and LeVar working together.” When Scout clapped, Naomi raised a hand to silence her daughter. “But only on one condition. LeVar needs to be her guardian and keep her safe. No more running after armed bad guys.”
“I messed up,” LeVar said. “Scout’s my priority, I swear.”
LeVar carried the dinner plates into the guest house with Naomi and Serena. Thomas slid along the bench so he sat across from Scout.
“I’m impressed. Where did you learn to profile so well?”
Scout straightened her shirt.
“Mostly through YouTube videos and articles. LeVar lets me borrow his textbooks too.”
“Don’t believe everything you read on the internet. But LeVar’s books are excellent resources. What I said about Oliver McCoy was true. But anyone with a gun is dangerous. You saved lives today, Scout.”
The teenage girl blushed. Looking out at the boats, she raised her water glass to her lips.
“I want to be a profiler after college. Obviously, I can’t do things normal FBI agents do. But I can figure things out and help them find dangerous criminals.”
“You’re off to an amazing start. I’ve told you this before. When I was your age, Sheriff Gray hired me as a student intern. I never wanted to be a profiler, but I wanted to fight crime like you. Besides your mother and LeVar, have you discussed your interests with anyone?”
“I messaged an agent named Scarlett Bell at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Working for the BAU is my dream.”
“You’re in luck. I know Agent Bell.”
Scout’s eyes widened to full moons.
“You know her?”
“Well, I met her once. I’m friends with her partner, Agent Gardy. We worked together on joint task forces when I was a detective with the LAPD.”
“This is amazing. Can I meet them someday?”
“Maybe I can arrange a meet and greet. I talk to Agent Gardy every few weeks. The next time I do, I’ll put in a good word and tell them how serious you are in your endeavors.”
“Thank you. I can’t believe this is happening.”
Over Scout’s shoulder, Thomas spotted LeVar exiting the guest house.
“Why don’t you take Jack into the guest house and help your mom and Ms. Hopkins?”
“Sure. Thank you, Thomas. Come on, boy.”
Jack woofed and followed Scout into the guest house. Now that they were alone, Thomas motioned for LeVar to join him at the table.
“I hope I wasn’t too hard on you.”
“Nah, you weren’t. I had that coming.”
“You saved everyone inside the store, LeVar. Your mother and I will always worry about you because we care. Please don’t tackle another criminal with Scout in the car.”
“I won’t.”
“To tell the truth, I haven’t been myself, either.” Thomas lowered his head and scratched behind his ear. “Between Deputy Aguilar fighting me to reenter the field and this new case, I’m having a difficult time keeping my head straight.”
“The woman’s hand?”
“That’s the case.” Thomas blew out a breath and searched the guest house windows. Two silhouettes worked at the sink. “I’m at a loss. This psycho walked into St. Mary’s church during confession hours, claimed he remembered Father Fowler from years ago, placed the box, and left with no one identifying him. Fowler won’t discuss the man’s confession.”
“Because of the sacramental seal.”
“Are you Catholic?”
“We haven’t set foot in church in so long, I don’t remember what denomination we followed. But I read about the sacramental seal once.”
“It’s frustrating. Fowler is the only person who can help us catch the guy, and he’s sticking to the rules. We don’t know if the woman is dead or alive, or where she came from. No women have gone missing in Nightshade County in the last month.”
LeVar snapped his fingers.
“Chelsey is working a missing persons case from four years ago. What’s her name?” LeVar scrunched his brow in thought. “Harmony Santos. You should put your heads together. Perhaps there’s a common thread between the two cases.”
“Four years is a long time.” Thomas took a breath. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll ask Chelsey about Harmony Santos after she returns from the office.”
“We cool now, Shep Dawg?”
“Always, LeVar.”
LeVar stuck his hand out, and Thomas bumped fists with the teenager.
The boy returned to the guest house to help Naomi and Serena. Thomas gazed along the shore. His eyes followed the trail to the state park where Ranger Darren Holt and Raven Hopkins lived. He thought about the woman’s hand and the stranger’s relationship with Father Fowler. The shadows lengthened, portending the coming dusk.
Was a murderer loose in Nightshade County? And why would Father Fowler protect him?
11
Chelsey Byrd returned from her morning jog through the village. As the calendar moved deeper into spring, green leaves replaced the barren trees of winter, and rising humidity formed fog at sunrise. Sweat soaked her shirt as she fit the key into the lock at Wolf Lake Consulting. Musty stale air caught her nose upon entry. She wrenched the windows open inside the office and kitchen, allowing the house to breathe. Chelsey loved running the investigation firm inside the converted one-story house. She worked with all the comforts and amenities of home at her disposal, including a full kitchen and two bedrooms outfitted with blackout curtains. The bedro
oms came in handy after Chelsey or Raven worked late into the night and needed a place to sleep. The bedrooms had also saved their hides more than once when snow bands rolled off the lake and stranded them at the office.
Chelsey showered at the end of the hall and changed into her work clothes. As she brushed her hair in front of the mirror, she thought about Thomas’s offer. She loved the A-frame and loved Thomas even more. Accepting his offer made fiscal sense. With the housing market overheated, she’d sell her house in no time if she put it on the market. But there was Tigger, her rescue tabby, to think about. How would Tigger get along with a monstrous dog? Thomas claimed Jack was some form of Siberian Husky. She’d met her share of huskies over the years, and Jack appeared too wild to be one.
And there was the matter of commitment. It’s not like Thomas had asked Chelsey to marry him. But moving in together was a huge step toward marriage, and she wasn’t sure she was ready.
After she fried eggs and ate half a cantaloupe, she returned to her desk and studied the Harmony Santos file. During the early days of an investigation, she preferred to begin with a fresh perspective. Lawrence Santos suspected Gerald Burke and a mysterious guy named Kit. But the police followed both paths four years ago and reached dead ends.
She spread the wedding photographs across the desk and scanned each picture, searching for a frequent face, a common theme. Nobody stood out, yet her skin crawled with trepidation whenever she discovered a photograph of Harmony. Odd. Chelsey sensed eyes on the woman. Studying the pictures under a magnifying glass, she didn’t find anyone sneaking glances at Harmony. Maybe Chelsey was overreacting.
Chelsey scanned the address book Lawrence Santos had copied for her. She located the entry for Harmony’s Aunt Ella. The woman lived on the western edge of the county, a forty-five-minute drive from Wolf Lake. With the sun shining and the temperature reminiscent of early summer, Chelsey looked forward to getting out of the office. She called ahead and confirmed Ella would be home.
Chelsey followed the lake road and reached the highway fifteen minutes later. She lowered the windows and relished the cross breeze as it ruffled her hair. The trees rustled in the wind, the flowers in full bloom.
After inviting Chelsey inside, Harmony’s Aunt Ella offered her coffee and croissants from the town bakery. Chelsey declined the croissant but accepted the rich homemade brew.
“I can’t wrap my head around it,” Ella said, drying her eye with a tissue. “It’s been four years since Harmony disappeared.”
“Thinking back, do you believe someone kidnapped Ella?”
“Absolutely. When the sheriff’s department suggested Harmony ran off, I bit my tongue. There’s no way Harmony would have left her husband. She loved Lawrence.”
Chelsey kept her relationship with the current sheriff to herself, not wanting to upset the applecart. She wasn’t sure who the deputies were four years ago when Sheriff Gray ran the department. Chelsey couldn’t imagine Lambert or Aguilar messing up the investigation.
“Lawrence mentioned a man named Kit. The police never found him. Do you remember who he was?”
Ella giggled.
“Oh, I remember Kit. That guy must have refilled his dinner plate three or four times. Every time I looked up, he was back in the buffet line.”
“Did you speak to him?”
“Didn’t we all? Friendly fellow, though bizarre. He kept taking pictures of himself with his phone like the kids do these days.”
“You mean a selfie?”
“Is that what you call it? Then yes, a selfie.”
“Do you recall Kit speaking to Harmony and Lawrence?”
“Just a quick congratulation. Kit said he was with the band, but I didn’t see him on stage. As soon as they shut down the buffet, Kit vanished.”
Chelsey bit her lip. She wasn’t trailing a murdering kidnapper. Kit was a wedding crasher, no doubt snapping photographs of himself to show off for his friends. Ella offered Chelsey a refill on her coffee, but Chelsey declined. Together, they sifted through the wedding photos Chelsey brought along. Ella teared up multiple times. To Chelsey’s chagrin, the aunt couldn’t accept anyone in the pictures would hurt Harmony.
Back in the car, Chelsey searched for Gerald Burke’s address. Harmony’s ex-boyfriend lived in Dewitt, a wealthy village outside Syracuse. The drive would take an hour, depending on traffic. This time, Chelsey didn’t call ahead. She wanted to catch Burke off guard. If the man wasn’t home, she’d spend the day shopping and catch Burke after he returned from work.
It was a half hour before lunchtime when Chelsey stopped the Civic outside Burke’s home. The cul-de-sac buzzed with lawn mowers and hedge trimmers, though none of Burke’s neighbors worked in their yards. Instead, they contracted others to do the work for them. Trucks belonging to landscaping companies lined the street, and most of the houses featured privacy fences and security systems. Chelsey’s heart thumped with anticipation when she spied the BMW parked in Burke’s driveway. Someone had swept fresh grass clippings off the walkway and onto the lawn. A rose bush bloomed beside the porch.
The man who answered the doorbell had the flawless, chiseled facial features of a Roman god. Lean and strong, with his black hair brushed to perfection, Burke appeared as if he’d stepped out of a fitness magazine. He gave Chelsey a derisive stare.
“May I help you?”
Chelsey handed him a business card.
“I’m Chelsey Byrd with Wolf Lake Consulting. If you can spare a few minutes, I’m investigating Harmony Santos’s disappearance.”
Burke’s eyes narrowed.
“Harmony vanished four years ago. You’re a little late to the party.”
“Please, Mr. Burke. I only have a few questions.”
Instead of inviting her inside, Burke ordered Chelsey to meet him on his backyard deck. Then he closed the door in her face. She followed a red brick walkway to a picket fence gate, the north side of the house lined with green-leaved hostas. Burke awaited her on a cherry wood deck. He gestured for Chelsey to join him at the table. Burke held an iced tea with condensation dripping down the glass. He didn’t offer Chelsey a drink. After she pulled up a chair, Burke spread his hands wide.
“I fail to see how I can help after so many years.”
“I understand you dated Harmony Santos during college and remained close after.”
“Harmony and I dated for almost three years.”
“Did she break up with you? Or was it the other way around?”
Burke shifted his back.
“Consider it a mutual decision.”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“Lots of reasons, I suppose. Uncertainty about our futures and where we’d end up. Perhaps we’d grown apart.”
“Yet you remained friends after the breakup.”
“We did. Harmony and I kept in touch after college. I was thrilled she invited me to the wedding, though Lawrence never impressed me.”
“You didn’t approve of Harmony’s spouse?”
“Harmony could have done better. She settled. That’s a kinder way of saying she married down.”
Chelsey made a mental note to dig into Burke’s past. The man didn’t mince words, and contempt twisted his mouth whenever he mentioned Lawrence Santos.
“What do you remember about the day Harmony disappeared?”
“You mean, where was I when it happened?”
“I’m not accusing you.”
“The sheriff did,” Burke said, tilting his head in remembrance. “Lawrence Santos put the idea in Sheriff Gray’s head. But I was in Buffalo, attending a conference the day Harmony vanished, so the sheriff had no choice but to recuse me of wrongdoing.”
“Will you write the conference name and who organized the event?”
Burke’s eyebrows shot up.
“Aggressive, aren’t we?” He huffed. “Fine. I’ll provide you with the details, if you need to confirm my attendance. But you’re wasting your time.”
Chelsey handed
Burke a sheet from her memo pad. He wrote the names and dates and slid the paper back to her. Before Chelsey asked another question, Burke held up a hand.
“I’m afraid I have an important engagement in an hour. This interview is over. If you have additional questions, make an appointment next time.”
Burke rose without shaking hands. Chelsey wondered what Harmony saw in the man.
On her way back to the car, Chelsey studied the neighboring houses. Despite the privacy fences, the lots stood atop each other with small yards. Could Burke kidnap Harmony and murder her inside his house without drawing attention? Doubtful.
She slipped the key into the ignition. As the engine started, she noticed Burke watching her between the curtains.
12
Upon entering the county sheriff’s department, Thomas stopped at Maggie’s desk. In her early fifties, the administrative assistant wore her brownish-orange hair shoulder length and permed. Maggie had held her position for twenty years, overseeing three different sheriffs.
“Did Sheriff Gray arrive yet?”
Thomas had phoned Gray this morning, hoping the former sheriff would shed light on Father Fowler and his mysterious visitor.
“He arrived five minutes ago. I told him to help himself to a donut in the break room. Lambert has his ear.”
“Thanks, Maggie.”
When he passed Aguilar’s desk, the diminutive deputy released an exaggerated sigh and glared at him from beneath a mountain of papers. He hated throwing paperwork at his most talented deputy. But the department had fallen behind, and she needed to stay busy, even though she wanted to headlock Thomas and toss him over her hip.
“Deputy,” he said, touching his hat as he passed.
Aguilar grumbled something indiscernible.
Thomas found Sheriff Gray in the break room with Lambert. Both wore their smiles from ear to ear, Lambert finishing a joke as Thomas entered.
“Good to see you again, Sheriff Shepherd,” Gray said, shaking Thomas’s hand. “What’s it been? Four days?”
Gray was a frequent guest at the cookouts beside the lake. He hadn’t aged since retiring last year. Thomas thought Gray appeared five years younger. The former sheriff had shed fifteen pounds, and his eyes were no longer creased with the worries the position entailed.