Hidden Target (Otter Creek Book 2)

by Rebecca Deel

  Bates was dating a woman in Otter Creek? If the pictures his men were showing around town didn’t get the info he needed, maybe they could track Bates through his lady friend. “Did you get a description?”

  “Mr. Bates never saw her.”

  Ethan kneaded knotted muscles at the back of his neck. “Let’s talk to Madison.”

  Madison studied Nick’s shuttered expression and Ethan’s intense gaze. “You want a complete list of every person who set foot in my store yesterday?” That might be difficult since Otter Creek knitters had swept through the door yesterday like a yarn famine loomed around the corner. More than half of her regular customers stocked up on supplies before she closed. She needed to reorder a lot of stock this weekend. “Why?”

  “Did you have to unlock your door to get into the Jeep last night?”

  She glowered at him through narrowed eyes and nodded. Why did law enforcement people answer questions with a question? Ethan smiled a little, as if he knew her thoughts. Probably did since her face mirrored her emotions. None of the Cahill women specialized in keeping secrets or springing surprises.

  “Where are the car keys while you work?”

  Serena set a frosty glass of Coke and a plate in front of her. Weeds, grilled something and a mysterious brown lump masquerading as bread. “Ever heard of real food, like a juicy cheeseburger?” The blonde-haired nutrition police just smiled.

  Madison turned her attention back to Ethan’s question. “In my purse, inside a cabinet behind my desk in the office.”

  “You never leave them out, even when you’re in a hurry?” Ethan’s pen hovered above his notebook. He murmured his thanks when Serena positioned his lunch and drink beside him.

  Madison noted that his plate held the same unidentifiable grass combination as hers. Didn’t he mind eating the weeds she remembered seeing nestled among the Kentucky bluegrass in Serena’s back yard? “Never.”

  “What about when you opened the store yesterday?” Nick said. “Did you lay them down or leave them out?”

  She frowned. “I already answered your question.” Why the cross-examination? What did her keys have to do with her junkyard-bound Jeep? “I have two key rings. One holds my house and car keys. The other has keys to the front and back entrances of The Bare Ewe. When I lock my car, I switch keys. The car keys remain in my purse until it’s time to go home.”

  Liz slid into a chair across the table from Madison. “Why all the questions about Maddie’s keys?”

  “To get to the crank case, you have to release the hood latch inside the car, Mrs. Cahill. Madison unlocked the door to get in her vehicle.” Ethan laid his pen on the table and sat back. “Somebody palmed her keys.”

  “Wait a minute.” Serena turned from the coffee bar with Megan’s lunch in hand. “I thought you and Nick were looking for Bates. He hasn’t been in here or Madison would have recognized him.”

  Nick shot a quick look at Ethan, who nodded. “Bates is involved with a woman who lives around Otter Creek.”

  A bowling ball rolled in the trenches of Madison’s stomach. “How do you know that?” Bates was seeing a woman around here, somebody she knew. Perhaps one of her customers. Goosebumps surged across her skin.

  “I visited Bates’ father after I bought your cell phone this morning.”

  “So, who is this woman?” Liz studied Nick and Ethan’s faces in turn. “We might know her or know someone who can tell us about her.”

  “Lynne.”

  Madison wrinkled her forehead. Lynne Hargrove? Bates couldn’t be “seeing” Mrs. Hargrove, a great-grandmother of eight rambunctious boys. She must be pushing 90. From the expression on her mother’s face and her sisters, none of them recognized the name either.

  “That’s it? Lynne? No last name?” Megan rolled her eyes. She grasped her fork and speared a piece of grilled chicken. “Nice going, Sherlock.”

  “That’s more information than we had this morning, Meg. Lay off the sarcasm.”

  Megan turned red and opened her mouth. Before her newshound sister could sling back a reply, her mother quelled the exchange with one pointed look.

  “It may take a while to list all the people who came in yesterday, but none of them were men,” Madison said to Ethan.

  Serena set down her glass with a thud. “The threats to Maddie stopped after the accident. What caused them to restart now?”

  “Been thinking about that.” Ethan took a few swallows of Coke. “When Madison left the hospital, she basically disappeared by coming back to Otter Creek. I think Bates saw Serena on the national news coverage from last month’s money laundering trial, and tracked her back to Otter Creek and Madison.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Fits the time frame. That’s when the dead flowers started arriving.”

  “Money laundering trial?” With a puzzled expression, Nick scanned each member of the group until his gaze settled on Madison.

  “A friend of ours, Pam Oliver, testified against the mob last month.” Madison’s fork scraped her plate as she pushed around the grass clippings. “They were laundering money through the Pot o’ Gold Hotel outside Knoxville. After Pam dragged Serena into it, they both became targets of an assassin. Serena was a witness for the prosecution.” Madison’s blood still ran cold when she remembered how close they came to losing Serena. In truth, they would have lost her if it hadn’t been for Ethan.

  Nick handed Madison a slim, silver phone. “Will you be comfortable with this one or would you rather keep mine?”

  “This one’s fine.”

  “Your family’s numbers are on your contact list.” He showed her the list on the readout.

  “Ice? Who’s this?”

  “Call the number and see.”

  Madison scrolled down to the Ice number and put the phone to her ear. His cell phone rang. She smiled. “It’s you.”

  “No excuses for not calling me now.” He walked behind the counter and retrieved his guitar.

  “You’re going to play?”

  “I haven’t practiced for a couple of days. Do you mind if I play a while?”

  She laughed. “Are you kidding? Saves wear and tear on my CD.”

  “Any requests?”

  “Anything.” She moved a stool to the center of her store and quirked her eyebrow at him. “You can see both exits from here. Will this work?”

  When he nodded, Madison returned to the counter and chatted with two ladies waiting to check out. He rolled down his sleeves, buttoned them, lifted his guitar from the case and sat on the stool.

  Nick drifted from one song to another, interspersing hymns with classical pieces he loved. The tension on Madison’s face eased. Her customers made purchases and drifted to chairs scattered around The Bare Ewe instead of leaving. One by one, they pulled out knitting projects or bought needles and yarn and started a new one.

  The growing crowd of customers drew other curious residents of Otter Creek into Madison’s store. By the time Nick finished his last song an hour later, the store was packed, the cash register ringing.

  Over the scattered applause, he heard Madison gasp. Turning, his heart leaped into his throat. Nick rose, his gaze locked on the intense dark eyes staring at him. Madison started around the counter. His instincts screamed at him to intercept her. Scott Bates leaned against the door frame, mouth curved in a mocking smile. With a two-fingered salute, the dark-haired, bearded man meandered out the door to the street.

  Nick secured his guitar in the case and moved toward the door. A familiar voice called his name. Nick gritted his teeth while watching Bates saunter across the square. He dragged his attention to the man approaching, hand outstretched. “Judge Wilson.” He smiled. “Great to see you again, sir.” He shook the gray-haired man’s hand, glancing out The Bare Ewe’s large display window. Bates was gone.

  “What brings you to Otter Creek, son?”

  Nick did some quick calculations, surprised to realize almost two years had passed since he’d seen Harry Wilson. Judge Wilson presided in various
Knoxville courtrooms until his retirement last year after 35 years behind the gavel. “Taking some time off to enjoy the scenery.” Madison’s laughter drew his attention.

  “We do have some beautiful scenery around here.”

  Wilson’s amused glance told Nick the retired judge knew which scenery drew his interest. He shifted his weight under the judge’s perceptive stare. “You moved to Otter Creek after your retirement?”

  “Moved here a few months ago. Anna grew tired of traveling, and wanted to live close to our daughter and granddaughter. Georgia owns the flower shop in town.”

  Nick grinned. “I know. She and my debit card have a close working relationship. I planned to stop by her shop while I’m in town.”

  “Hi, Judge Wilson. I didn’t expect to see you here without Anna.” Madison hugged him. “Did you enjoy Nick’s concert?”

  Wilson smiled. “I always enjoy hearing Nick play. I remember when his parents gave him his first guitar. I assure you, his first attempts to play weren’t as pleasant to the ear.”

  Madison peeked at Nick, her eyes wide. “How long have you known Nick?”

  “Since before he was born. His father and I were good friends.”

  “Is that so?” Madison’s mischievous smile sent a ripple of apprehension rushing along Nick’s skin. “I have questions I bet you could answer.”

  “Stop by the house later and we’ll talk.” He drew out folded paper from his pocket. “Anna asked me to pick up knitting supplies for her, but I have an appointment in a few minutes. I spent too long enjoying Nick’s music.”

  Madison scanned the list. “Leave this with me. Can you stop by on the way home?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll return to town before you close.”

  “What if I bring the supplies by your home after church tonight? Can Anna wait until then for the yarn?”

  Relief washed over Wilson’s face. “Great. Thanks, Madison. Anna will enjoy the company.” His eyes twinkled at Nick. “You come, too, Nick. Anna would love to see you again.”

  “I might do that. How is Mrs. Wilson, sir?” Twenty years before, Anna Wilson had been confined to a wheelchair after a car wreck left her paralyzed from the waist down. The last time he saw them together, Judge Wilson and his wife behaved like newlyweds. He doted on her and she teased him without mercy.

  Wilson laughed. “Anna’s still the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. She took up gardening as a hobby, so our yard resembles a botanical paradise.” He glanced at his watch and grimaced. “Got to run. See you folks later tonight.” With a wave, he maneuvered through the crowd still milling around the shop.

  Nick’s gaze collided with a cold stare from a pair of brown eyes. The woman almost looked familiar. He thought he’d met her before, but couldn’t place her face with a name. He nodded his head toward the tall brunette now hurrying out the door. “Who’s that woman, Madison?”

  The woman’s long hair fluttered in the breeze. “Jenny Siler, one of my beginning knitters. She works in the drugstore.” Madison tilted her head. “Maybe she’s one of your groupies.”

  A faint smile rested on his lips. “You’re the only fan I’m interested in.” Nick didn’t recognize the name, but something about Jenny’s eyes nagged him. He dragged his attention from the retreating woman’s back to the man edging closer to Madison, greeting several people in the crowd.

  Ethan leaned back in his chair. He didn’t like the way this was playing out. Bates’ disappearance left him uneasy. Still no activity on his accounts and Nick learned the father gave Bates just $60. Not enough to last more than a few days, unless his girlfriend didn’t mind a freeloader.

  Another thing gnawed at his gut. Bates’ car. Why abandon it? He could’ve switched the plates to throw Ethan’s men off the scent. Dunlap County also contained thousands of places to hide a car. If he believed the car too recognizable, he could use his girlfriend’s car until he left the Otter Creek area.

  Rod tapped on Ethan’s door. “Sanchez spotted Bates at Hank’s Bar.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Mr. Santana, I’ve heard many good things about you from the Cahills. I’m glad to meet you in person.”

  Madison noticed Nick eyeing Marcus Lang with an iron gaze. Her grin dimmed. Puzzled, she said, “Nick, this is Marcus Lang, my pastor.”

  “Will you be in town long?” Lang said.

  Nick gave him a fleeting smile. “A few weeks, maybe longer.”

  “Great. Look, I know it’s short notice, but would you play a few songs for us tonight at prayer meeting? We also want to set up a date for a formal concert if you can squeeze us into your schedule.”

  “I’ll be happy to play tonight, but I’ll have to get back to you on a concert date. My long-term schedule’s unpredictable right now.”

  Madison smothered a grin. What an understatement. His whole life, like hers, reeked of unpredictability.

  Did she need a bodyguard? Bates never threatened to harm her. Maybe Ethan and Nick exaggerated the situation. She shivered. Then again, Bates showing up at The Bare Ewe creeped her out. Reality had stared at her with dark eyes from the doorway.

  “Service starts at 7:00. Madison will give you directions.” Lang’s expression sobered as he switched his attention to her. “I just left the Kendalls at Memorial Hospital.”

  Madison drew in a sharp breath, dread filling her heart. The Kendalls had been through so much already. “What happened?” Karen and six-year-old Julia Kendall were two of her favorite knitters. She and the rest of the town had a soft spot for the beautiful little girl.

  “Julia has leukemia.”

  Ethan walked through the doorway into the murky, quiet atmosphere. Bates sat at the bar, absorbed in a Rangers’ game on the large-screen television. Two college-aged men occupied a booth near the door. Too early for most of Otter Creek’s barflies.

  “Afternoon, Chief.” With a wry smile, Hank Wainwright set aside the dried glass and flipped his towel onto the counter. His white polo shirt glowed in the low light. “Little early in the day to see cops in here. Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks, Hank.”

  Bates stiffened, but kept his attention on the game. The Rangers’ third baseman struck out, pleasing the crowd of spectators.

  Ethan settled on the stool to Bates’ left, blocking his view of the television. He waited.

  Bates shoved aside the pretzel bowl and focused on his beer. “What do you want?” His voice held suspicion.

  “Found your car, Mr. Bates.”

  He shrugged, muscles flexing under his black shirt. “Water hose busted. Planned to fix it tomorrow.”

  Ethan nodded. “You’ll have to collect it at the police impound lot. Costs $50 per day.”

  The man’s hands tightened around his beer mug. He sipped his drink. “That all?”

  “Know anything about rifles?”

  He set his mug on the bar with a thud and cast Ethan a sideways glance, his expression wary. “Nope.”

  “You sure?”

  He frowned. “I don’t do guns,” Bates said, his words clipped.

  “Care to guess what we found in the trunk of your car?”

  Bates gave a short mirthless laugh. “Spare tire?”

  “Sniper rifle.”

  Bates sprang from the stool, his expression panicked. “No way. You set me up!” He pulled his fist back and threw a roundhouse punch.

  Ethan blocked the punch before it connected with his face. He grabbed Bates’ wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. He shoved Bates face down on the bar and cuffed him.

  “It’s not mine, I swear.”

  Ethan jerked the struggling, cursing Bates upright and steered him toward the door. “You can explain how it ended up in your car at the station. Give me the right answers to my questions and I might forget about the assault charge.”

  “Leukemia?” Madison whispered.

  “I’m sorry. I know Julia’s special to you.” Lang pressed Madison’s small hand between his two large ones. “Th
e doctors scheduled a few more tests before they begin treatment. Julia would love to see you.”

  Nick placed a supporting hand against her back. Julia must be the first grader Madison raved about, the one who loved to make cookies with Serena and kept Madison in stitches while she taught the girl to knit. She leaned against his hand. Pleased, Nick slid his arm across her back.

  “I’ll go this afternoon.”

  The minister looked thoughtful. “The hospital visit will be difficult for you. I’ll be praying for you, as well as for Julia and her family.” He smiled at Nick and shook his hand. “I’m looking forward to tonight.” He waved at several customers as he exited the crowded store.

  Madison raised her gaze to Nick, a stricken expression on her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Disbelief edged her laughter. “In the last 10 minutes, I volunteered myself to run two errands to opposite ends of the county, and I don’t have a car that runs anymore.”

  Nick flicked his hand. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take you wherever you need to go until we find another car.” He smiled. “I’m supposed to keep an eye on you anyway.”

  Madison blew out a frustrated breath, pushed the hair brushing her face behind her ear and stepped away from the support of his arm. “Nick, I don’t want to depend on you or anyone else. I want to be with you by choice, not need.”

  He inked another mark on his mental scorecard. At least she admitted wanting to be with him. “Let’s compromise, then. I’ll chauffer you around this afternoon and tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll hunt for another car so you can regain some of your independence. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Nick’s cell phone rang. He raised his eyebrows at the displayed number. Ethan. “Santana.”

  “We just brought Bates in for interrogation. Says the rifle isn’t his.”

  “No surprise there.”

  Ethan chuckled. “I’ll let you know if we learn anything useful.”

  “What’s going on?” Madison asked.