Trouble Afoot (Shepard & Kelly Mysteries Book 2)

by Benjamin Bradley

  “I doubt anybody has ever described Umstead as paradise, but—”

  “Do me a favor? Sleep on this. Go home, let your mind rest and get some shut-eye. It does wonders for the brain, and this mess won’t clear up without you in the meantime. Maybe something will fall into place while you’re in the shower. Amazing how that happens, right?”

  Zoe nodded. “Thank you, Chandler. I appreciate your candor and care with all of this. It’s admirable.”

  “Aw, dear. You’re talking to the mirror there. I am only sending out what I’m getting back. You’re a hell of a law enforcement officer, Zoe Watts. You ever get sick of the trees and want to find your way into an over-air-conditioned office with a bunch of men with masculinity complexes, you let me know.”

  Zoe smiled and watched Russo leave. She let out a deep exhale and reversed out of the drive. She took the long way home, all the while trying to force the puzzle pieces to fit into the frame. It was a fool’s errand without knowing what the end result was supposed to be. Without progress, she let her mind wander and follow along with the CD that played on repeat for months. For a minute, she let her mind drift into the lyrics. After all, she could relate. Looks like we’re in for nasty weather…

  The bad moon had risen.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The door slammed shut behind Zoe, but not before she let in a stiff breeze from the world outside. Delaney shivered and reached for her sweatshirt. Casper stayed slumped onto the couch, still reeling from the events of the day. Hoagie raced to greet his new best friend.

  Casper’s mind moved a mile a minute. His thoughts spiraled, dancing from the worst-case scenarios to possible harmless explanations. Nothing stuck. Something was off.

  “How did things go with Russo?” Delaney asked.

  “Hello to you too, Laney. Yeesh,” Zoe said with a grin. “Just a vehicle for information these days, aren’t I?”

  Delaney rushed up with a hug. “You’re not a vehicle for anything. Except for maybe smelly armpits.”

  “Grow up, Laney. I eventually found deodorant that works. Want to sniff?” Zoe asked.

  Gil entered the room and smiled. “No comment on the armpits. But I echo the question. Lay it on us.”

  As Zoe shared her summary of the events and Russo’s interview with Ernest, Casper started scribbling on a notepad. He poked at it with his pen and then wrote. Delaney peered over his shoulder, but she gave up trying to decode his horrendous handwriting. Zoe finished, let out a sigh, and threw herself into the tan armchair in the corner of the room. She looked like a deflated balloon.

  “Maybe Russo is right. Sleep could do us all some good. It’s been a marathon of a day,” Delaney said.

  “Can I ask a question?” Gil interrupted.

  “Yes, but only one, Gil,” Zoe said with a smile.

  “Well, more of a statement, for now. I am, as you never would have surmised, stuck on the Bigfoot angle. I cannot see how that, er, prank, is a logical move.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, it is rather absurd. Is it not? Why Bigfoot?”

  “It’s a misdirect,” Casper said. “A distraction from the actual events. From how it sounds, it’s a distraction to avoid detection of something related to drugs.”

  “Yes, I recall your earlier statement of that notion, Casper. What I am asking is, specifically, why did they choose Bigfoot? Why not set fires in the woods or vandalize the bathrooms with spray paint? There are simpler options that would draw the ire and attention of the staff.”

  “It’s a valid question, Gil,” Zoe said with a sigh. “We have more questions than answers at the moment. But it still irks me.”

  “What does?” Delaney asked.

  “The location.”

  “Like, where we found McQueeney in the costume?” Delaney said.

  Zoe shook her head. “No, just the fact that any of this took place within Umstead. It doesn’t add up.”

  “There’s a phrase from an old science fiction book that has always stuck with me that applies here,” Casper said. “Maps were the first form of misdirection, for what is a map but a way of emphasizing some things and making others invisible? Have you ever looked at a map of Umstead online?”

  Zoe shrugged. “Sure, it’s just a landmass with a few marked trails through it.”

  “Exactly, it’s a cloak.” Casper smiled. “It’s the perfect environment for avoiding detection, so long as the folks policing the area have their hands full with something else.”

  “But there are countless parks in North Carolina. Some are bigger. Hell, there are ones with less staff! Entire forests that are uninhabited and unexplored,” Zoe said.

  “Are any of them within earshot of two major cities? Umstead is smack dab in the middle. The perfect location to use as a playground.” Casper met Zoe’s eyes as he continued. “One hundred years ago, prohibition brought about a slew of new criminals who used clever tactics to avoid suspicion. One of the most popular? Brewing in the woods. When they were somewhere only passable by foot, it added a layer of security.”

  “Yeah but—”

  “And one of the most famous bootlegger stories, one that even made its way up north to my high school, was cow shoes.”

  “Cow shoes?” Gil asked.

  Casper grinned. “Bootleggers made these attachments to the bottoms of their shoes that made their footprints in the soil look like the hoofprint of a cow. As the law tried to track the operations through the forests, they had to discern which hoof prints were real and which were a trick. It’s a lot like this scheme here.”

  “So, you’re saying the Bigfoot sightings, in this case, are cow shoes? That’s a sentence that makes my head spin, Casper,” Zoe said.

  He laughed. “It’s confusing, but to put it simply, we’re still chasing down the wrong tracks. Whoever this mastermind is, they want us to follow the Bigfoot charade until we come up empty. If we look in that direction, we’ll miss them cleaning up whatever bigger activity was going on here.”

  Zoe stood and paced around the room. “But we’ve got little to go off of. We have stickers that match across the board. Little foxes. Clever, I’ll admit that much. But this fox wants their tracks covered.”

  “And if you follow the tracks, there’s a solid chance this fox leads us to answers as to whatever happened to Wade Buchanon. The dots connect, Zoe,” Casper said.

  Zoe sighed. “So, how in the world do we catch him?”

  “Simply put, we set him a trap. If he takes the bait or gets caught on his own, we’ll be that much closer to an answer.”

  Gil nodded. “Just remember, a fox is a clever animal. You’ll have to outwit it to make this work.”

  “If we were hunting an actual fox, you’d be right. But we’re looking for a human. A terrible, violent human. When it all boils down, it’s a hell of a lot easier to catch a human than a fox.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Dew clung to blades of grass along the sidewalk that led toward the station. Kyle moved like a man approaching the gallows. His feet were heavy. Like blocks of cement instead of shoes. His stomach grew sour and he could feel bile in his throat. He let out a deep breath and pulled the door of the station open.

  The noise overwhelmed him at first. Phones ringing and people milling about from one place to another. A uniformed officer who looked to be the same age as one of Kyle’s honors students sat behind the front desk and greeted the visitor with a big, goofy smile.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  The sir sent shivers down Kyle’s twenty-six-year-old spine. His mouth had never been so dry. Like he’d just taken in a mouthful of sand. “Yes, uh, Officer Agnew,” He read from his badge. “I need to speak to somebody about something I saw.”

  “Sure thing! And what is this regarding? I just need to know which officer to contact.” The baby-faced man looked like a child playing dress-up.

  “Uh, I saw a man. In Umstead State Park. He got hurt.”

  “Oh no, like a sprained ankle? Yikes
!” Officer Agnew made an exaggerated face.

  “No, uh, like he got beat up.” Kyle said while doing his best to shove off the images of the bloody scene he’d witnessed.

  “Let me check into that, one second. You said it was at Umstead?”

  Kyle nodded. Officer Harrison picked up his phone and mumbled into it for a few minutes. Kyle leaned up against the counter and his legs grew weaker. He opted for the worn vinyl chair that had one leg shorter than the rest.

  “Sir?” Officer Harrison asked.

  That sir again. Kyle stood and met the officer who had come from around the desk.

  “You can follow me; I’ll show you back to Detective Russo. She’s waiting for you.”

  The two-minute walk felt like a marathon. Every person they passed stared daggers at Kyle. Sweat beaded on his neck and dripped down his t-shirt. He glanced at the corkboard they passed, half-expecting to see his and Andy’s face on printouts next to the rest of America’s Most Wanted but there was nothing besides a small list of upcoming overtime opportunities and the NC State Football schedule.

  The march ended. He ushered Kyle into an empty interrogation room five degrees cooler than the rest of the station. Goosebumps prickled his skin. He nodded at his escort and waited alone. The silence gnawed at him with each passing second.

  Fifteen minutes later, an attractive older woman with dark hair stepped into the room. She stood at least six feet tall. Maybe taller. She smiled and signaled for him to take a seat. “Hi, I’m Detective Russo. I appreciate you coming in.” Her smile had faded. “Officer Harrison said that you have some information regarding a case that I’m working.”

  “Uh, yes. I saw something.”

  “Great, well let’s start with the basics.” Russo pulled out a pen and a notepad. “What’s your name?”

  “Kyle Pittman.”

  “Nice to meet you, Kyle.” She scribbled something on the page. “And where is it you work?”

  “I’m an English teacher at Pine Hills High School.”

  Russo grinned. “The most underpaid profession in the world, am I right?”

  Kyle chuckled. “You can say that again.”

  “So, Kyle.” Each time she said his name, it reminded him of a kindergartener being held out of recess for eating crayons. “Did you see or hear something at school?”

  “No, ma’am. I saw something in the park.”

  “And which park is this, Kyle?” Russo held her pen still on the notepad.

  “Umstead State Park. I thought the officer at the door told you.”

  She chuckled. “He provided the basics, but I like to be thorough. Don’t you, Kyle?”

  “Uh, I guess.”

  “Wonderful. Okay, so, what were you doing in Umstead State Park?”

  “I was, uh, running.” Kyle nodded. “Just out for a run, you know?”

  “Exercise is important. That’s an early hour though, do you often run that early?”

  “Sometimes. When I need to get it done before school or something. I’m an early bird.”

  “Not me.” She shook her head. “I’m far from a morning lark. I am the night owl hooting at you while you’re trying to sleep.” Russo laughed to herself. “So, tell me what you saw, Kyle.”

  “Well, I was coming down the big hill that you hit when you leave the main parking lot and head out on the wider trails.”

  “The bridle trails? Which side of the park is this?”

  “Off Harrison Ave? I don’t know if that’s Cary or Raleigh. I parked outside the gate since it was before the park opened. I know that’s technically against the rules but—”

  She smiled at him. “We’ll make an exception on that one, Kyle.”

  “So, I came down the big hill and saw what I thought was this… uh… creature jump on top of some other guy.”

  Russo was calm. She took careful notes. “Okay, can you describe either person?”

  “Well, I mean, the victim was like middle-aged. Maybe late forties? He looked like he was on a run too, but I never saw him actually running. But yeah, just a normal, average guy. Medium build. Brown hair that looked like it was receding.”

  “Great. And you said you saw a creature, Kyle? That sounds scary.”

  “Yes, well, at first I thought it was a creature, but then I got a little closer… and…” Kyle’s lips couldn’t find the words. His throat was raw.

  Detective Russo smiled and put her hand up in the air. “How about I grab you a glass of water and then we can continue. Does that work?”

  Kyle nodded, and then the detective disappeared. The room was still cold. He shivered, either from nerves or from the frosty air that pumped through the vent in the floor. He let out a deep exhale. All the practice with Andy paid off. Except, why does she keep saying my name? He replayed all of his answers in his mind. He had yet to implicate himself. If he played it right, he could walk out of the station scot-free. Like a normal runner in the park who had no connection to the vicious person who beat that man half to death.

  The detective left the room for what felt like fifteen minutes. Kyle stirred in his chair and looked at his hands. When he was about to knock on the door to ask for the promised glass of water, Detective Russo rejoined him inside the room. She handed him a bottle of water, which he gulped down without a word.

  “Great. Okay, so where were we, Kyle? You got closer to the crime scene?”

  Kyle nodded. “I could see that it wasn’t a creature but a person in a weird costume.”

  “Okay, what kind of costume did it look like?”

  “It was a fox.”

  “A fox?”

  “But a small one.”

  “A baby fox?”

  “No, just that like the person was small, I guess.”

  “Okay, that’s great, Kyle. Details are important. So, you saw a small person in fox costume beat the middle-aged man who was running?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you watched?”

  Kyle’s voice cracked. “I know I should have done something, but I was so scared. Shocked. It was like a bad dream. I stared at it in pure horror, but I froze. I couldn’t move.”

  “Lots of people find that their bodies let them down. Minds too. Fight or flight, right, Kyle?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And is that it? That’s what you wanted to report today?” The detective looked at the two-way mirror that sat in front of Kyle.

  “No, there’s a little more.”

  “Okay. What else, Kyle?”

  “The costume. It had this, like, head. A fox head. And during the fight, it fell off.”

  Detective Russo sat up in her chair. “Do you mean you saw the person’s face who was attacking Wade Buchanon?”

  “If that’s the old guy, yeah.”

  “And what did he look like? Can you give us some details?”

  “Yeah, I have a good memory. Hard to forget something like that.”

  “Great, Kyle. That’s helpful.”

  “But there’s one thing you’re getting wrong, detective.”

  “And what’s that, Kyle?”

  “It wasn’t a he. The person in the fox costume was a woman.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Zoe’s knees buckled beneath her as she listened to Kyle Pittman’s statement. The words echoed through her brain like a leaf falling from a tree limb, dancing through the sky before it lands on the ground. Her eyes glazed over as she glared at the young man who had just dropped an atomic bomb on the entire case. A woman? Zoe’s reflection looked back at her in the tiny observation room as she glared through the two-way mirror.

  Detective Russo’s call had urged Zoe and Mathias to head towards the station for an urgent update. A rookie officer who looked to be no older than fifteen had put them in the observation room and left them alone to watch. Mathias cautioned that nothing substantial was likely to come from the discussion. Still, Zoe hoped for answers. For progress. However, this was not the answer she’d expected.

  Mathias glan
ced at her with a particular look that she did not envy. One woman at the park that came to mind right away. One who lived nearby. One who knew the trails and was conveniently among the first on the scene. Zoe gulped. She averted her eyes and watched as Russo put the eyewitness on the spot.

  Detective Russo continued the questioning inside. “A woman?”

  Kyle nodded and drank the rest of his water. His methodical movements were disturbing to Zoe, who wanted to wring the man’s neck to get answers as quickly as possible.

  “Can you describe her?” Russo asked with her pen on her notepad and a winning smile across her face.

  “She was pale. Freckles on her skin,” Kyle said. “I was far away, but yeah. Red hair. Like fire-red.”

  “And you said she was petite?”

  “Small, petite. Yes. Thin. Runner’s build, maybe? Like I said—”

  Mathias whispered under his breath as the realization dawned on him. “Shit.” Zoe couldn’t stop staring.

  Russo continued. “And you saw this petite red-headed woman assault Wade Buchanon?”

  “She was in a rage. Angry is an understatement. He must have pissed her off, or maybe they knew each other before or something. I don’t know.”

  “Okay, one last time to make sure I got it all, then I will have to step out for a moment to call this into my colleagues. You were running in Umstead, saw a red-headed woman in a fox costume attacking Wade Buchanon from a hiding spot, and then what?” Russo spoke with a silent urgency.

  “What do you mean?” Kyle’s brow raised.

  “Did you leave? Did the woman in the fox costume leave? Help me understand how this all wraps up…”

  “I ran out of the woods and back up the trail to my car. I was scared as hell. I drove out of there like my hair was on fire. I was ashamed that I didn’t do anything, so I hesitated in approaching you all about it. I know it was wrong, but…” His voice trailed off.

  “Well, all things aside, we’re grateful that you could now. Hang tight a minute and I’ll be right back.”