Living in Shadow

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Living in Shadow Page 14

by Georgia Florey-Evans


  “I understand.” His mom’s blue eyes were lit from deep within. “But you need to know something, Beau.” She squeezed his hands tightly. “Neither your father nor I am afraid to die. We’re not in an all-fired hurry to do it, but we know it won’t be the end. It will be the beginning of our real lives. This life is a blink of the eye in God’s plans. So, don’t worry about me.”

  “You say that.” Evidently blunt speaking about the Dohners hadn't made much of an impact on her. “But it’s not just the fact you’d die; it’s how it could happen. They wouldn’t make it easy for you." He studied her nearly serene appearance. She needed to know. “I’ve seen grown men, healthy and physically larger than me beg to be shot. Please, just think of your grandchildren being in their hands."

  “Elliott will keep them safe.” Sharon spoke with calm assurance. “And, I understand why you fear those monsters getting their hands on any of us. But, I refuse to let those evil men have even the slightest control over my life."

  Where were the tears or pale face? She understood, and believed what she was saying.

  "I can see how your faith gives you strength," Hardy acknowledged. “But, please don't do anything foolish. If somebody calls or comes by asking about me, you don’t want to talk about it. Maybe you’re even a little ashamed your son wasn’t able to save that woman.” Heaven knew it shamed him. “Hopefully, one day soon they’ll get enough on Ted Dohner to take him and his organization down. And then we can go back to life as usual.”

  “I will never say I’m ashamed of you.” His mom spoke firmly. “But I will do everything else you’ve asked.” She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him.

  Hardy found himself wishing once more that he was a praying man. He wished he could trust God enough to take care of his family. He just couldn’t, though. Not now and maybe not ever again.

  Chapter 23

  “He went to see his father again yesterday. I think he might be talking.” Excitement filled the caller’s voice. “Is he going to have another stroke?”

  James tended to be too eager sometimes. “Do you have any idea of what he told his son?”

  “Couldn’t have been much. Davis hasn’t gone to the sheriff.” James must have realized he wasn’t going to get to murder anybody right away, for he now sounded disappointed.

  “From what I’ve heard, the prognosis on the old man is good. We don’t have to rush into anything.” He had his ways of keeping abreast of the situation, which his caller would do well to remember.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Jump off the highest building in town was on the tip of his tongue, but he needed this person—more than he needed the others working on this project for him. “Let’s wait. Unless he starts telling Davis things he shouldn’t know, we’ll let the old man get better. Then we’ll take him out. It’ll hurt his son more that way.” And inflicting pain on Harding Davis was of utmost importance.

  “Are you sure we can’t just kill him?” Now the man was definitely unhappy.

  He bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue. “You know we can’t. Unless you’d like to take the chance of being caught.”

  Silence met him before James hung up. It would be okay, though. This man, in particular, knew what was necessary.

  Now he had to call an employee. Restructuring communication had been a wise choice. He didn’t have to talk to a complete idiot.

  His phone's ring startled him. According to the caller ID, an "unknown" from Tuscaloosa. Right.

  "What?" He wasn't in the mood to talk to this person, but since he didn't want any one of them to know more than the others, it was necessary.

  “Mr.—?”

  “Do not use my name!” Maybe he needed to rethink his decision after all. “I’ve told you before.”

  “Sorry, sir.” This man was much more eager to please him than the previous caller had been.

  He made his tone civil. “That’s okay.”

  “What are my instructions? What do you want us to do next?”

  “You can hit a couple of places in one night and make sure to leave a clear message for Mr. Davis.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He started to hang up but then thought of something. “Remember there is to be no killing. I don’t want to hear about any more dead animals.”

  “Will do.”

  He placed the phone on the desk in front of him. Killing animals. He did have some scruples, after all.

  Chapter 24

  “Base to Sheriff Landon.” Haley tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but for the first time in her career, she found it nearly impossible.

  “Landon here.” He sounded irritated, which was to be expected since he was investigating a break-in at the grocery store. However, she had no choice but to call him.

  “Sheriff, we have a possible ten-fifty-four, looks like a ten-seventy-one, at In and Out Convenience store.” For the first time in Haley’s career, she had just reported a possible dead body, most likely due to a gunshot wound.

  “Haley, you sure you’re using the right codes on this one?”

  “Yes.” She had taken a few moments to double check them before she called.

  “Call the state dispatcher and see if they can send a few cars to town. I’ll need one of them at Ebhart’s and the others at the convenience store. I’m on my way there right now.”

  “Ten-four.” She couldn’t quite keep the quiver out of her voice. Shadow was a relatively small community, and chances were the body Dennis Ewing had stumbled upon would turn out to be that of somebody she knew.

  Haley quickly contacted Cheryl Higgens and had to repeat her request twice before it was understood. A gunshot victim in Shadow was impossible for anybody to imagine.

  Father, we all need Your help in this one. Be with everybody involved. Be with the family of that victim and the officers working the scene. Please help those still working at Ebhart’s, too. We need to figure out what’s going on in our town. I’m asking for your guidance. Amen.

  She set up her workstation, prepared for an influx of telephone calls and radio conversations. Maybe she should call Mavis or Ray. No. Mitch would let her know if that’s what he wanted. Haley was an experienced dispatcher and good at her job. She could handle this.

  The phone rang at the same time Mitch’s voice came from the radio.

  “Sheriff, one second.”

  She quickly answered the phone, thankful it was on the non-emergency line, and placed the caller on hold. “I’m back, Sheriff. Phone call at the same time.”

  “Ten-four.” Mitch’s voice was strained. “We need an ambulance, and you’ll have to call Doc Tindell. He’s acting coroner until the election.”

  “Ten-four.”

  “Call Mavis in.” Mitch spoke again. “Hey! Seal that off until Doc Tindell gets here!"

  Haley held the phone away from her ear and could still hear her boss chewing someone out.

  Thankfully, he was back to his normal voice when he spoke to her. She wasn't too sure she wouldn't cry if he yelled at her like that. “This appears to be a one-eighty-seven. The phone will be ringing off the wall, and I need you to be clear to stay on the radio.”

  “Will do.” It was a one-eighty-seven—a homicide. “Should I make any other phone calls yet?”

  “Negative. We have no positive ID on the male subject at this time.”

  Haley felt relief and guilt in equal measure. It wasn’t likely to be somebody she knew, or Mitch would have recognized him, but that shouldn’t matter. Whoever he was had a family and friends who loved and cared for him.

  “Let me know what you need, Sheriff.”

  “Will do. Call Mavis.” It wasn’t Haley’s imagination that he had stressed Mavis’s name on the last instruction. He hadn’t been able to prove Crystal was their leak, but he was certain she did it. And they didn’t need word of this getting out—at least not that the police didn’t control.

  She suddenly remembered the caller she’d placed on hold.


  “Sheriff’s office.”

  So began a seemingly endless flurry of phone calls and radio chatter, eased markedly by Mavis’s presence. Mavis had taken over answering the phone as Mitch instructed, while Haley manned the radio and computer. She finally gave up and pulled the code sheet out so she could check when one of the deputies or state police officer used an unusual one. While Haley knew every number-letter combination on her cheat sheet, a mistake could waste valuable time.

  It was with shock she saw Wayne usher a very displeased Beau Harding into the station. A quick look told her he wasn’t in any restraints, but if the scowl on his face were any indication, this visit wasn’t by choice.

  “Mr. Davis will be in the interrogation room.” Wayne spoke as he led the other man past Haley. “If you have a minute, could you bring him something to drink? I had to pull him out of the field, so I imagine he’s thirsty.”

  “Sure.”

  A few minutes later, Haley walked into the small area christened the multi-purpose room. Interrogation was rare, so they had never needed a room with it being the sole purpose. When she walked in, Hardy was alone. A snarl and his look of anger stopped her in her tracks.

  “I brought you a soda.” She held out the bottle, half expecting him to smack it out of her hand onto the floor.

  His gaze softened. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault.”

  “What are you doing here?” She kept her voice level. “You haven’t been arrested.”

  Frustration appeared on his face. “I have no idea. Barney Fife out there showed up at the farm and told me the sheriff wanted to see me at the station. I could either come peacefully or with his help.” He smiled grimly. “I’m not in the mood for a fight today.”

  “I’m glad.” Haley wouldn’t want to see a fight between Hardy and Wayne. They were both large, well-muscled men, and she couldn’t see it having a pleasant outcome for either of them. “Can I get you anything else while you wait for Mitch?”

  He gestured to the soft drink she’d let hang by her side as he spoke. “No, but I’d appreciate that bottle. I’m as dry as the desert.”

  She felt her face warm as she handed him the forgotten soda. “I have to get back on the radio. It’s a crazy day.”

  “Thanks for the drink.” He held up the bottle and produced a small smile.

  “You’re welcome.” Haley turned and hurried out of the room and back down the hall. Wayne was just coming out of the men’s room.

  “What’s going on?” She was too curious to abide by her self-imposed “wait until they told her” rules.

  Wayne shrugged. “All I know is Mitch wants to talk to him. It’s a command performance, too. I was told to get him in here no matter what it took. Thought for a few minutes it was going to be a chore getting him to comply, but he came peacefully enough.”

  What on earth could be so important Mitch needed to talk to Beau Harding? They were just now wrapping up the scene at the convenience store, with Jeff Fielding staying behind to keep curious bystanders on the right side of the crime scene tape. And the robbery at Ebharts was all but wrapped up, with Hank finishing the last details on it. Bringing Beau into the station surely didn’t have anything to do with either crime.

  Her blood ran cold. Did it have something to do with the crimes? Granted, the robberies hadn’t started until after the man had already been here nearly six months, but could he somehow be connected? Or was it worse? Was he linked to the homicide? Criminals might know as much about the law as an officer. Was that why he’d reminded her of Mitch?

  She shook her head as she sat back down at the radio. It was probably nothing to do with either. She was letting her imagination get away from her. Because, even with the unknown identity and secrets he was keeping, Beau Harding just didn’t seem like a criminal to her.

  But, was she seeing him clearly?

  Chapter 25

  Okay. If Sheriff Mitch Landon wasn’t in this room in the next five minutes, Hardy was walking out. He’d walk all the way back to the farm if he had to. If Landon thought he’d soften Hardy up by making him cool his heels, he’d forgotten he was dealing with a seasoned Chicago police officer. There wasn’t an interrogation trick in the book Hardy hadn’t seen or used, himself, at one time or another.

  What in the world could the sheriff have to ask him about, anyway? Hardy had been sticking to the farm, minding his own business and staying out of the public eye. He had three days to go before he could leave this town behind. Elliott had called to give him his moving instructions. A small town near Terre Haute, Indiana was going to be his new home. He wasn’t about to make waves at this stage of the game.

  Solid approaching footsteps announced Mitch’s presence a few moments before he walked through the door.

  He sat down across the table from Hardy and leveled his gaze at him. “I’m sorry I had you brought in like I did. I have to talk to you, and I don’t have time for the niceties today.”

  “I’ve been waiting for nearly two hours.” Hardy kept his voice controlled, even though he wanted to raise it. ”I could have just about finished the west field instead of sitting in this closet nursing a bottle of soda. So, get to it already.”

  Mitch slid the top folder he was carrying across the table. “They’re not very good, but I had Linda rush them so you would see what I’m talking about.”

  Hardy opened the folder, half expecting to see photographs of more dead animals. Instead, he saw what, at first glance, appeared to be blood covering a shelf full of canned goods. However, he knew from experience it was too red to be blood.

  “Ketchup,” he murmured. He looked at the next few photos and slowly looked up at the sheriff. “Somebody trashed the grocery store.”

  “Keep looking.” Mitch nodded at the file.

  It wasn’t until Hardy reached the sixth picture he knew what the sheriff wanted him to see. For Davis was scrawled across the meat case in what appeared to be a purple substance. His brows rose as he looked questioningly across the table at the other man.

  “Grape jelly. Out of one of those new squeeze bottles.” Mitch nodded. “Pretty creative, I guess.”

  His expression grew more serious as he slid the second folder across the table.

  Another break-in on the same day? Hardy opened the folder and immediately saw the message that had been left. This time, Ask Davis was written in ketchup, spread across a wide window. Gas pumps were visible outside.

  He looked up at the sheriff. “Where is this?”

  “In and Out Convenience store—out by the interstate.” Mitch nodded at the pictures Hardy was holding. “Keep looking.”

  The eighth picture was one Hardy was all too familiar with. A man, obviously dead, was lying next to a large soda display. The cause of death was probably the gunshot wound clearly visible on the back of his head.

  His eyes met the sheriff’s. “This was the same place?”

  Mitch nodded. “Still so sure you haven’t been found? We now have a homicide in the same location as a message that was most likely left for your benefit.”

  “Who’s the victim?” It was impossible to tell since the man was flat on his stomach, arms and legs outstretched.

  “We’re not going to get a clear look at his face until his exit wound is cleaned up, and we couldn’t find any ID for him. The state police are running his prints through CODIS to see if they can find a match, and I just had my dispatcher get on the computer to see if there are any reports of a missing person who fits his description.”

  Roughly five-eleven, one-seventy, brown hair, no face to go by—they’d better hope they matched his prints. Then Mitch’s last words sank in.

  “Haley’s still here?” It was after seven o’clock. Surely she didn’t work this late.

  “No. My night guy is here.” Mitch seemed to shake off the question. “So, do you have any idea why a homicide and message to you ended up at the same place?”

  Hardy considered the possibilities. “One thing I’m still sure of, Sh
eriff. I lived, ate, and breathed the Dohner organization for five years, so I know what I’m talking about. If any of them have found me, I promise you I’d be dead. They wouldn’t play games like this. Ted Dohner would consider this juvenile and beneath him. He imagines himself in a class all of his own.”

  “Then, what is going on in my town?!” Mitch demanded angrily. “It has something to do with you, and we both know it.”

  “What do you expect me to do?” Hardy wasn’t going to take this sitting down. “I told you I have no idea what’s going on, and I don’t.”

  “Okay.” The sheriff visibly calmed. “I have a proposition for you.”

  Hardy most certainly did not like the sound of that. “What?”

  “You have a strong background in organized crime. I need your expertise on this, Davis. I’m not foolish enough to try and pretend Shadow County is equipped to handle what’s been going on, even with the state's help. I’m offering you a badge.”

  “Are you crazy?” The sheriff had to be certifiable. “If somebody really has found me, somewhere down the line it will eventually get back to Ted Dohner that I’m alive. Then, he’ll come after me. And if you think you’ve got a mess right now, let me assure you, it’s a walk in the park compared to what that man and his 'family' are capable of.”

  “I said I’m not foolish,” Mitch reminded him. “Why would anybody in Chicago notice a new deputy being hired in a small county downstate? We would make sure your real name didn’t come out. I’d be hiring Beau Harding. It’s that simple.”

  Hardy shook his head. “It’s not going to happen. I’m not risking my family like that. I’ll be gone in three days. Sooner now. I’ll tell Luke I have to leave early and be out of here first thing in the morning. Then, whoever is doing this will give up and go away.”

  Mitch’s disbelieving expression didn’t falter. “We both know that isn’t how it will work. If somebody is trying to get your attention, they might just amp things up even more if you leave. To try and get you back to town.” He glared at Hardy. “Only you’d be gone and wouldn’t even know it was happening. The man who left everything he knew and cared about to do what’s right would never run out and leave an entire community in danger because of him.”

 

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