Living in Shadow

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Living in Shadow Page 12

by Georgia Florey-Evans


  Hardy hadn’t thought of her assuming he’d stopped in to see her. He didn’t want to embarrass her, but he had to tell the truth in this case. “I’m here to see the sheriff.”

  Her lovely blush confirmed she was indeed embarrassed by her misassumption. “Just a minute. I’ll see if he’s available.”

  Before Hardy could stop himself, he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Not that I don’t want to see you. I’m looking forward to this evening.”

  Her blush increased as she returned his smile. Instead of responding to Hardy, she picked up the phone and called the sheriff. The other woman, a spike cut blonde who appeared to be about the same age as Haley, stared curiously at him.

  “He said for you to come right in.” Haley gestured to her right, where Hardy knew Mitch’s office to be. He smiled at Haley once more before he turned and walked in to see the sheriff.

  “Close the door,” Mitch instructed from his seat behind the desk.

  Hardy obligingly closed it before he sat down. He leaned forward and placed the sack of files on Mitch’s desk.

  “So, what do you think?” It appeared the sheriff wasn’t going to beat around the bush.

  “I’d like to summarize what I discovered about each case individually before I explain my findings.” Hardy had spent most of the night awake, caught up in the familiar challenge of investigating a case.

  Mitch nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “Okay.” With his excellent memory, Hardy hadn't needed to write notes. “The salon break-in wasn’t about money. There are just too many sites in that area, some which would have yielded the thieves ten times the money they stole from the salon. The items they took aren’t exactly things they can fence, either. There’s not much of a market for hair care supplies or tanning products. I imagine if you check dumpsters or the city landfill, you’ll find the stolen items there.”

  Mitch wrote something on a piece of paper. “I’ll have the trash checked out. I’m pretty sure the dumpster would have been emptied since the robbery, but if it has, maybe we’ll have some luck at the landfill.” He frowned. “If robbery isn’t the motive for the break-in, what do you think is?”

  “To get your attention.” That was the only explanation Hardy had come up with. “They may have just wanted to see how you respond to a burglary.”

  “You don’t think it’s something more personal than that?” Mitch appeared unconvinced. “It was awfully violent for an attention getter. I don’t think there was one piece of equipment or furniture not damaged or destroyed.”

  “Look at the crime scene photos again.” Hardy waited while Mitch retrieved the folder containing the pictures he’d spoken of. “These aren’t signs of rage. It’s controlled destruction. The dryer chair was torn apart and dropped where it stood, not thrown all over the room. The pieces broken off the tanning beds, as well as the cords that were cut off, were all right next to what they came from. Imagine somebody in a rage, Sheriff. He’s going to break things and throw them. This destruction is calculated and methodical.”

  Mitch seemed surprised when he looked back up at Hardy. “I see what you mean. It’s not as violent as it appears at first glance.”

  “I’m going to skip the animal clinic right now. I’ll come back to it later.” He reached over and indicated the folder containing the insurance agency break-in files. “Look at these photos again, Sheriff. Remember what you just figured out about the hair salon.”

  Hardy sat quietly while Mitch did as he’d asked. The sheriff slowly sat back in his chair and looked at Hardy. “This looks staged. Just like the salon. They wanted it to look worse than it was, like an act of rage.”

  “That’s what I think.”

  Mitch’s brows rose. “So, they’re connected?”

  Hardy slowly nodded. “If I were a gambling man, I’d put my money on it.”

  “Then what about the animal clinic?” Raw emotions raged in the sheriff’s eyes. “Those animals were tortured. If that’s not rage, I don’t know what is.”

  Hardy wanted the sheriff to realize what he was seeing. “Shut off your emotions and take another look at the photos."

  Reluctance was apparent on Mitch’s face, but he slowly opened the file and slid out the pictures. “This is horrible. The perps were furious.”

  "That is what they want you to think. I noticed something the first time you showed me those pictures.” Hardy reached across the desk and slid one out to show the sheriff. “This dog is in the middle of a blood-covered carnage. But if you look, the only visible injury to the dog is a single stab wound. You’d have to check with the vet, but I’m fairly sure it would have hit the dog’s heart. You can look at all of the dogs, and you’ll see the same thing.”

  He waited while the now interested sheriff looked more closely at some of the photographs. Hardy noticed Mitch was examining a picture of a cat. “I can’t tell from the pictures how the cats or rabbit died,” he admitted, “but I believe it was the same way.”

  Mitch looked up from the picture he was holding. “What are you saying, Davis?”

  “I’m saying the intruders killed these animals with however many stabs it took to get to their hearts; it doesn’t look like more than a couple. Then they took the blood and bodies, and created the nightmare that was discovered.” Hardy had thought long and hard about this case. “As bad as it looks, there is no real rage here. It’s set up to appear as there is, but it’s just like the other two.”

  “So, you think we’re looking at the same person . . . people . . . for all three crimes.”

  Hardy nodded. “It looks that way to me.”

  “But why did they go to the extreme of killing the animals? They could have trashed the clinic without killing the animals.” Mitch slid the photos back into the file folder as he looked at Hardy.

  “I don’t know,” Hardy admitted. “It may have something to do with the message they left.”

  “You mean it might be somebody after you?” Mitch grimaced. “But you told me that was impossible.”

  “And I still think it is.” He had good reason to believe that. “You said you read up on me. So you know exactly who’s after me.” Mitch nodded. “Then you have to know if they’ve found me, they’re not the kind of people to play games to get my attention. I was responsible for their golden boy's life sentence being spent at the federal penitentiary in Tucson, and anybody Dohner sent would be instructed to either grab me or kill me on the spot.”

  "You're sure about that?"

  "I told you, Sheriff, I know that organization inside and out. I was one of them until I had to blow my cover,"

  The sheriff appeared to consider Hardy’s words carefully. “Why’d you do it, Davis? Everything I found out about you says you’re not the kind of guy to quit. So, why did you blow your cover and testify when you were so close to catching Ted Dohner himself?”

  “I didn’t do it by choice.” At least Hardy could honestly say that. The man Hardy was looking at couldn’t possibly imagine what it had taken to get Hardy to blow his cover. “You had to have read about Teddy Dohner’s drugs killing all those people. The prosecution was going to lose the case on technicalities. I couldn’t sit by and let the Dohners win. Not that time.”

  Memories assailed him as his gaze focused on the sheriff. “I testified against seven members of the Dohner organization before I was finished and barely made a dent in it. Except when it was Teddy. Once he was sentenced, word came down through our undercover ops that the big man himself was out to get Harding Davis. He wasn’t about to let a cop get away with pulling the wool over his eyes for the better part of five years, and then putting his son away on top of that.”

  Mitch leaned forward in his chair, his face full of empathy. “And so you disappeared.”

  Hardy nodded. “They gave me a new name and moved me to a new town.”

  “And that’s where the robbery happened,” Mitch commented, “when you died.”

  The robbery was one thing Hardy was not will
ing to talk about. “I’m here now. At least Beau Harding is. And I don’t believe the Dohners are looking for me at all anymore.”

  “But if they should find you?” Mitch’s voice was soft as he asked the question.

  Hardy took a deep breath. “Then I’ll fight with everything I have in me, and if that’s not enough, I’ll die.”

  Mitch’s gaze was troubled. “And you’re leaving Shadow at the end of next week.”

  “Don’t you think that’s best for all concerned?" Hardy quickly pushed a flash of disappointment away. ”Dohner may not have found me, but I can’t guarantee smaller organizations aren’t responsible for the break-ins. I stepped on a lot of toes to get as far into the organization as I did.”

  The sheriff looked out the window of his office for a minute before returning his attention to Hardy.

  “Let’s say you’re right,” he agreed. “Then, what are you doing with Haley?” Hardy followed Mitch's gaze to the chief dispatcher busily working on the computer before settling back on Hardy. “She asked me this morning if it were safe to date you. She only knows you’re not using your real name. I had to tell her that much so she could help me field the television viewers who saw you. And this morning she tells me you’ve asked her on a date. You’re leaving in seven days. What are you hoping to accomplish with her in seven days?”

  Guilt flooded Hardy. “You’re right. I just . . . I’ll tell her something has come up. I won’t start anything. I knew I couldn’t, but there’s something about her. I’ll tell her.”

  Mitch gave him an appraising look. “If you’re going to leave, it’s better to hurt her feelings now than to possibly hurt her worse in a week. Haley is alone, Davis. Her family is all gone. She has nobody but her friends, so we have to look out for her. If she thought something was developing between the two of you, and then you cut and run…Well, I don’t want to think about how that would hurt her.”

  Hardy felt something that had barely started to take wing crash to the earth. “I understand. I’ll tell her now.”

  “Thank you.” Mitch stood up with Hardy. “And I appreciate your take on the crimes. I still don’t know who’s committing them, but I have a clearer perspective. I can focus on finding the motive.” He looked steadily into Hardy’s eyes. “You’re a good police officer, Davis. It’s a shame you have to give it up.”

  “Thanks.” Hardy turned to leave. “Life doesn’t always work out the way we want it to, though, does it?”

  Before Mitch could answer, Hardy walked out of the door and over to the dispatcher’s station. He felt lower than a snail's belly when Haley looked away from the man she’d been talking to and smiled shyly at him, her cheeks once more a rosy pink.

  “Haley, something has come up.” Her smile faltered. “I don’t think . . . I can’t take you out. I’m sorry.”

  Before she could respond, Hardy turned and headed for the door. He didn’t even take the time to apologize to the mail carrier when he nearly knocked him over. He just wanted to get away before he had to look at the face of another woman he had hurt, even in a small way.

  Chapter 20

  “You’re gonna like this, Father. He’s interested in a woman in Shadow.”

  He gritted his teeth. “And what caused you to believe this? Did he stop and exchange views on the weather with a female?”

  “He was gonna take her on a date. He told her he couldn’t, though. I think she was sad.”

  He rolled his eyes. “If he broke it, I’d say he’s not overly interested in her. Is this all you called about, you imbecile?”

  There was indignity in the caller’s voice. “I’m a man, Father. I’m not a baby.”

  “You’re not a . . . Are you really that stupid, or have you been abusing your medication? I said imbecile, not infant, you fool!” It was all he could do not to hang up the phone. With his genius of a son on the job, he may as well walk into the nearest police station and confess.

  “I think Davis isn’t taking her out because he’s leaving town.”

  “What?” He walked over to the window that looked over a busy street. “You can’t let him leave Shadow. You have to intensify your efforts.” He had to think.

  “Father, Davis was gonna take out the woman who works at the sheriff’s office. He was in there talking to the sheriff for a long time, and when he came out is when he made her sad.”

  It was a good thing the man on the other end of the phone was not within arm’s reach at that moment. He could have cheerfully throttled him with his bare hands. “If he is speaking with the sheriff, there’s a good chance our employees' pitiful attempt to get his attention by leaving his name may have worked.” He thought for a moment. “Go ahead and have them leave a message at their next site. But they are not to kill animals to do it. They can use their imagination instead.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  And the sky would be lime green before he would talk to this fool again. “From now on, you’ll only communicate with me through James. It will be safer that way.” Especially for his own sanity.

  Disappointment sounded in the voice on the phone. “Yes, Father.”

  He hung up before his son could say anything more idiotic than he already had. If his plan to take care of Harding Davis didn’t work, it would be because of the fools he was forced to work with. The situation had severely limited his options.

  He couldn’t fail, though. He paced around his desk, thinking. He would need a backup plan if his first one fell apart. There must always be a backup plan.

  Chapter 21

  Haley sat back and smiled as she watched the six children with their Sunday school lesson sheets. That hadn’t been so hard. She had read them the story of Noah’s Ark, and now they were coloring pictures of it.

  She stood up and walked around, looking more closely at their artwork.

  “That’s nice, Jeremy. I see the dogs you put in the ark.” At least she hoped the four-legged stick animals were canines. His nearly toothless grin told her she was close enough.

  She made a few more observations until she came to Denny Allen’s paper. On his paper was something she couldn't identify.

  “Did you draw some fish in the water, Denny?” There was a shape in the blue space next to the boat.

  The energetic, red-headed, freckle-faced boy shook his head. “That’s my sister’s cat. I don’t like him, so I’m throwing him off the boat.”

  “But . . .” Exactly what could Haley say to that? Before she could come up with something, Carter Danes started scribbling furiously in the blue water he’d colored around his ark.

  “I’m going to throw my grandpa’s bull in there. He’s mean.” The little boy’s tongue peeked from the corner of his mouth as he colored.

  Haley felt like she was watching a runaway train as the children began throwing things from their boats. She was just about to try to regain control of the situation when she noticed the figure Emmy Wyler was coloring. It was an unusual stick figure with a yellow ball on one end. She just had to ask.

  “What animal are you throwing overboard, Emmy?”

  The little blonde girl turned and smiled angelically. “That’s Miss Simms. I don’t want to take piano lessons anymore.”

  “Boys and girls.” Haley waited until she more or less had their attention. “Noah didn't throw anything off the ark; he saved animals and his family just like God told him to. Please stop drawing animals and people in the water around your arks.”

  She could see it now. Tara Wyler asking her daughter about the Sunday school lesson, only to be informed her daughter no longer had to take piano lessons because she’d thrown her teacher out of the boat. At this rate, this would be both the first and last day she taught the kindergarten class.

  When she saw the children continue to create shapes in the water, she sat back down at the table. It appeared the damage was already done. At least their lesson hadn’t been Daniel in the Lions’ Den. She could only imagine a five-year-old’s depiction of an animal eating their sister
’s cat or piano teacher.

  Maybe she would color the extra lesson sheet sitting in front of her. Within minutes, she had a brown ark with dark blue water below it. The light blue around it appeared to be a lovely sky. It had already stopped raining on her ark. Her mind drifted as she worked on putting animals in the windows of the vessel.

  “Miss Johnson?"

  Haley looked up. “Yes?"

  Lacey Jones pointed at Haley's paper, "Who did you throw off your boat?"

  "I didn't . . .” Sure enough, she had, indeed, drawn a figure floundering in the water. While she was by no means Rembrandt, it was plain to see it was a person with light brown hair, clad in blue jeans and work boots. The familiar black T-shirt told her what she’d already known. She had thrown Beau Harding out of her ark.

  The buzzer signifying the end of Sunday school saved her from having to explain. “Remember to try and learn your Bible verse this week. If you can say it next Sunday, you’ll get a sticker for your book.” Haley had chosen something simple for them to memorize.

  She had given them slips of paper with Psalm 145:9 printed on them. The Lord is good to all. Hopefully, their parents would be so caught up in helping the children learn the Bible verse they would overlook the fact they’d all been tossing living creatures out of Noah’s Ark.

  The students picked up their papers and noisily left the room. Their parents would meet them in the fellowship hall, where they would enjoy a pastry and milk. Then, most of them would go to the Sanctuary for the worship service.

  Haley had skipped breakfast, hoping she’d have a few minutes to eat a donut. She looked at the crayons strewn across the table and chairs scattered about the room. It appeared that the time between Sunday school and worship would be spent tidying up her classroom.

  The sound of heels hitting the floor preceded Tessa Lincoln's arrival. “How’d your first day go?"

  Haley gestured around the room. “Did they leave it this much of a mess when you taught?” Tessa had asked for a replacement since she had tons of wedding preparations.

 

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