Primary Suspect

by Laura Scott

  When Mitch pulled up in front of the small motel, she put a hand on his arm to prevent him from getting out of the car. “Let me go in. Your face might be too recognizable.”

  He scowled but then nodded. “Okay.” He dug in his back pocket and handed her a wad of cash. “I’ll wait here.”

  Dana slipped out of the SUV and headed inside. The clerk was an elderly man who might have been hard of hearing because he didn’t move or glance at her until she was right up to the desk.

  “Need a room?” he asked in a booming voice.

  She smiled. “Two, please. Connecting rooms if you have them.”

  “Got a passel of kids, do ya?” The old man cackled at his own joke.

  She forced a smile, trying not to remember the baby she’d lost. “How much?”

  He named his price so she peeled off the bills, pushing the cash across the counter. He frowned. “I prefer credit cards.”

  “I’m sorry, I shredded them.” She shrugged. “Please?”

  “Fine.” The old man relented, taking the cash and pushing two key cards toward her.

  It wasn’t until she was safely back outside that she let out her breath in a relieved whoosh. She opened the door and climbed in, showing Mitch the keys. “We’re all set. Rooms nine and ten on the end.”

  “Good.” Mitch drove past the lobby and parked in front of room nine. “Take the computer inside. I’m going to find a place to park the SUV where it’s not in view of the street.”

  She handed him the key to room ten, picked up the computer and the file folder and headed into the motel. The rooms weren’t as bad as she’d expected—not great, but not awful. Good enough for what was left of the night.

  It seemed to take Mitch a long time to return. She peered out the window, nearly jumping out of her skin when she saw a male figure standing in front of room ten. Mitch entered the room, then opened his side of the connecting door.

  “How far did you go?” she asked. “I was getting worried.”

  “There’s a truck stop about a mile down the road. I left the SUV there and walked back.”

  “I see.” She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to have their vehicle so far away from the motel. “Hopefully we won’t need to leave in a hurry.”

  Mike dropped into a chair with a heavy sigh. “There are a few ways we could have been found at The Sandpiper. Suzy recognized me and turned me in. The guy sitting outside my house managed to figure out I was using Hawk’s SUV and got a tip it was there earlier. Or Mike was followed. My goal was to eliminate all possibilities of being found a second time.”

  “Suzy turning you in seems the most likely.”

  Mitch shook his head. “I don’t know, maybe. But as Mike pointed out, if the MPD knew I was there, they would have come in with a large fugitive apprehension team. Not two guys carrying nothing but handguns.”

  “Yeah, I noticed they didn’t have tranquilizer guns,” she said thoughtfully. “I wonder if they gave up on that idea.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” Mitch agreed. “Two strikes and you’re out, right? Then it’s onto a different plan.”

  Being targeted by someone who wanted her dead was still a difficult concept to grasp. Her life, before she saw Mitch’s name on the ER census board, had been nothing but dull, boring and routine.

  So why would anyone target her?

  “Are you okay?” Mitch asked.

  She glanced up and met his intent gaze. “Yes.”

  “Quick thinking, kicking the gun out of the way and bringing it with us,” he said. “In the morning, I’ll call Noah, see if he can get fingerprints off it.”

  She brightened at that thought. So far they’d had nothing much to go on. Identifying even one of the men involved could help point them in the right direction.

  Mitch scrubbed his hands over his face. “I know I’m missing something.”

  “It does seem odd that there are more planted clues pointing at you being the murderer than we’ve been able to uncover about anyone else.”

  “I know.” Mitch blew out a heavy breath. “I keep coming back to Simon’s muddy work boots. Maybe we need to look for a connection between construction companies and Shelton, Inc.”

  “Shelton, Inc. is a construction company, isn’t it? At least, that’s what Kent claimed.”

  “Not exactly.” Mitch opened the computer and waited for it to connect to the motel Wi-Fi. “They owned the warehouses, but I believe they were listed as a property management company, not a construction business.”

  She moved to sit beside Mitch so she could see the computer screen, too. “There have to be dozens of construction companies out there.”

  “You can say that again,” Mitch muttered. He scrolled down the list on the screen. “Everything from Amstar Building Corporation to Zacharias Construction. Not to mention about twenty other companies in between.”

  A name caught her eye. “Wait, what is that one? Worth More Construction?”

  “Yeah. What about it?”

  Dana raised her gaze to his. “That’s the name of the company that built the house.”

  He frowned. “You mean the one Kent’s parents bought for you and Kent as a wedding gift?”

  She nodded slowly, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. “It was originally a model house, used as a showcase for others.”

  “Are the other houses in your neighborhood also Worth More homes?”

  She nodded. Then it hit her. Kent’s full name. “Kentworth,” she said abruptly. “Do you think it’s possible that the name Worth More is a coincidence?”

  Mitch didn’t answer, but clicked on the link. A webpage came up displaying beautiful homes.

  Exactly like the one she was living in.

  Were Kent’s parents owners of Worth More Construction?

  And if so, why were there so many layers of companies with different names?

  What exactly did it all mean?

  * * *

  Finally something to go on. Mitch could barely contain his excitement. “Maybe Simon was working for Worth More Construction on his off days. Kent must have gotten him the job as a way to help him make ends meet.”

  “We don’t know for sure Kent’s parents are involved,” Dana protested.

  “They are. I don’t believe in coincidences.” He dug into the Worth More Construction name, trying to drill down to the ownership level.

  It wasn’t easy.

  Should he call Mike for assistance? Glancing at his watch, he realized it was well past one o’clock in the morning. Granted, he had gotten a little sleep earlier, but exhaustion still pulled at him. Might be better to wait until morning. They could check for fingerprints on the gun and dig into the ownership of Worth More Construction.

  “Can’t find it?” Dana asked, hiding a yawn.

  “No.” He closed the computer. “Mike will help us tomorrow. For now, let’s get some sleep.”

  “All right.”

  Since he was in her room, he left the computer behind and headed through the connecting door. He wished he could shower, but knew he still couldn’t get the sutures wet, so he settled for a quick washup in the bathroom.

  Mindful of the way they’d been found before, he unhooked the ankle holster and set it on the bedside table, close at hand.

  He dreamed of the night Kent died. Beating the fire back with the hose, feeling as if they were making progress until a loud explosion shook the building. A severe back draft of fire surging around them. Kent panicking as smoke filled the inside of his mask. Kent ripping the mask off, coughing as he inhaled smoke and soot, then collapsing onto the floor. Mitch grabbing him, slinging him over his shoulder and hauling him out of the burning building.

  Round after round of CPR as he tried to revive the rookie.

  Then being pulled off him as the paramedics arrive
d, declaring him DOA.

  No!

  Mitch awoke with a start, heart pounding so ferociously he was surprised it didn’t crack his ribs. He blinked, surprised to see early-morning light streaming in from the narrow opening in the curtain hanging over the window.

  He rose and headed into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. It had been a long time since he’d dreamed of that night. At least two years, maybe more.

  At the time he had insisted that Kent’s gear be checked out for a possible malfunction, but Kent had dropped it inside and the fire had burned it beyond recognition.

  Lifting his head, he stared at his ragged reflection in the mirror. Despite rigorous training, it wasn’t unheard of for a rookie to panic during the real deal. There wasn’t any reason to suspect foul play.

  In fact, he had sensed Kent’s immaturity. It was one of the reasons he’d wanted the rookie to stay outside to man the hoses.

  But what if he was wrong? What if Kent’s death wasn’t an accident?

  He shook his head at his ridiculous thoughts. Even if he had questions surrounding Kent’s death, it didn’t matter at this late date. Three years had passed. What had happened back then didn’t have anything to do with the here and now.

  His cell phone rang. Mitch crossed the room to pick it up, recognizing his brother’s number. “Hey, Mike. What’s up?”

  “I’ve got good news and bad news,” his brother said in a weary tone.

  “Give me the bad news first,” Mitch said. Dana poked her head through the connecting door and he waved her in. He put the call on speaker so she could listen in.

  “MPD has staked out my place and Noah’s,” Mike said. “We ended up staying in a motel here in town to avoid being detained.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Mitch closed his eyes and rubbed at the spot between his eyebrows. “What’s the good news?”

  “The license plate you saw on the car parked outside your house does belong to the MPD, but it’s been reported stolen.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s the good news?” His voice rose in agitation. “That means we’re no closer to finding out who’s behind all this.”

  “You didn’t let me finish,” Mike said. “Noah was able to find out that Calvin Towne has a brother-in-law who apparently works as a security guard for...guess who? Shelton, Inc.”

  Mitch dropped onto the edge of the bed in shocked surprise. “What’s his name?”

  “Tyler Pitrowski. Ring any bells?”

  He glanced at Dana, who grimaced and shook her head. “Nope. Doesn’t sound familiar to either of us. Although Dana picked up the guy’s gun at the motel. It’s in my glove compartment. If we can match the fingerprints to this Tyler Pitrowski guy, then we’ll know for sure.”

  “Told you I had good news.” Mike sounded smug.

  “A connection to Shelton, Inc. is good news,” Mitch agreed. “Reinforces our theory that Jeff must have been taking payoffs on the side to benefit Shelton, Inc.”

  “That’s what we thought,” Mike said. “Glad to hear you have the guy’s gun in your possession, too. We need all the evidence of you being framed we can get.”

  No joke. “I need some additional help, bro,” he said. “There may be a connection between Shelton, Inc. Property Management and a builder by the name of Worth More Construction. Can you find out who owns Worth More?”

  “Sure.” Mitch could hear Mike tapping keys on a computer. “Why do you think they’re linked?”

  “Because Kent’s full name is Kentworth,” Dana said, speaking up for the first time. “And the house that was given to us as a wedding gift by Kent’s parents was built by Worth More Construction.”

  Mike let out a low whistle. “Very interesting. Okay, but this is going to take some time, so I’ll call you back.”

  “Thanks, bro. I owe you more than I’ll ever be able to repay.”

  “I’ll figure out a way to collect, don’t worry. Later.” Mike disconnected from the call.

  “We’re going to figure it all out, aren’t we?” Dana asked, her expression hopeful. “It’s finally coming together.”

  He didn’t want to burst her bubble, but the truth was, they could find all the connections in the world, but without proof? They were nowhere.

  Especially considering all the evidence that they’d planted against him.

  “Mitch?” Dana’s voice was tentative. “We are close to figuring this all out, aren’t we?”

  He forced a confident smile. “Yeah. Enough for reasonable doubt, for sure.”

  She frowned. “Are you saying you’ll still have to go to trial?”

  “Depends. But regardless, it’s nothing to worry about right now. Are you hungry? I can hike to the truck stop to pick up the SUV.”

  “Maybe we should both go. I’d rather not stay here alone.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.” It wouldn’t be that big of a deal to carry their stuff. He shut down the computer, tucked the file folder inside and picked it up. Dana disappeared into her room, returning with the small white bag containing his antibiotic and dressing supplies.

  “Stay on my left,” he instructed. He was right-handed, needing his body to be between Dana and anyone traveling on the road. It didn’t seem possible that they’d been followed last night; there hadn’t been another car behind them for miles.

  But he hadn’t planned on being found at The Sandpiper, either.

  “Should we find a different motel in another town after breakfast?” Dana asked.

  “Yeah.” He knew that this running around from motel to motel couldn’t go on forever. Eventually they would run out of cash. “Although if Mike uncovers something, we can meet up with him first to hand over the thirty-eight.”

  She nodded. “This whole thing reminds me of that old Harrison Ford movie The Fugitive. He was framed for murder, just like you.”

  He didn’t answer since this felt more real than a movie. Although he couldn’t deny there were parallels.

  As they approached the truck stop, Mitch swept his gaze around the area, looking for signs of trouble. He didn’t see anything unusual, so he unlocked the SUV and stored the computer and file folder inside. Then he took Dana’s hand as they went into the diner.

  The truck stop was busy, but they managed to snag the last empty booth. Breakfast smells, especially bacon, filled the air, and he was grateful when their server provided two cups of steaming coffee.

  After they placed their order, Mitch took a careful survey of the people in the restaurant. Mostly men, although the occasional older couple as well, maybe locals from the area. He and Dana were the youngest and he hoped they wouldn’t attract too much attention.

  It didn’t take long for their breakfast to arrive, and he was surprised when Dana reached over to take his hand. He smiled and said grace, giving her fingers an encouraging squeeze before letting go.

  As they finished their breakfast, his phone rang again, displaying Mike’s number, and this time he didn’t put it on speaker, not wanting anyone to overhear. “You found something?” he asked.

  “Yeah. You were right. Worth More Construction is owned by ASP, Inc., which is a subsidiary of Shelton, Inc.”

  “ASP?” he repeated.

  The color drained from Dana’s face. “Alice Shelton Petrie,” she whispered. “Kent’s mother.”

  Mitch repeated the information for Mike’s benefit. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

  “We need to understand the motive here,” he said to Mike. “This all has to be connected in some way.”

  “I’ll keep digging.”

  Mitch didn’t answer right away. He was starting to believe that the only way to find out the truth would be to get it directly from the people involved.

  Alice and Edward Petrie.

  FIFTEEN

  Dana wasn’t
sure what Alice’s role in all of this was, but the thread stretching between all the companies couldn’t be denied.

  “Thanks, Mike. Let me know if you find anything else. I’ll call you back when we’re settled in someplace new.”

  “He’s going to keep investigating?” she asked.

  Mitch nodded, signaling for the bill.

  She pushed her plate away and picked up her coffee. “I think I should call Kent’s parents.”

  “No.” Mitch’s refusal was curt. “I don’t want you in danger.”

  She leaned forward, keeping her voice down. “I can’t believe they would hurt me and we need to find out what’s really going on.”

  Mitch didn’t answer right away, but waited for their server to bring the bill. He left cash on the table, then slid out of the booth, offering his hand.

  She took it and followed him outside. Dark clouds covered the sky, indicating a storm was moving in. Mike’s rented SUV was parked in a corner facing forward. Mitch opened the door for her, helped her in and then slid in behind the wheel.

  “We’ll find another place to stay, then call Mike back,” he said breaking the silence. “We need more to go on before we risk contacting the Petries.”

  She didn’t necessarily agree, but figured waiting a few more hours wouldn’t hurt.

  Mitch drove headed south and east to the opposite side of the city. Thankfully, they found another small motel that advertised Wi-Fi services. Once again, Dana went in to obtain their rooms so that Mitch remained in the SUV, hidden from view.

  The owners of the motel were an elderly couple who didn’t ask any questions and accepted cash without blinking an eye.

  Once they were settled in the rooms, Mitch opened the computer. She took the seat next to him so she could see, as well.

  The first thing he did was access the Wisconsin Circuit Court database. He typed in the name Tyler Pitrowski. The last name was unusual enough that there was only one guy in the database, who had several charges for drug possession and one felony charge with intent to sell.

  “Drugs?” She frowned. “That doesn’t seem like it would be connected to the arson fires.”