Hidden Target (Otter Creek Book 2)

by Rebecca Deel

  Nick didn’t respond. Ethan was right. The contents of that envelope gave him motive—except that he didn’t know the pictures existed. If he’d known, he would have been hard-pressed to keep away from Bates. The pictures disgusted him, a killer’s remembrance of his crime, a treasure over which to gloat. “How much longer until the TBI reports come back?”

  “Friday, at the latest.”

  “Doesn’t give us much time.”

  “No,” Ethan said. “Someone’s tightening the noose around your neck.”

  “I’ll poke the fire until you slap the cuffs on me.” Nick crossed his arms. “Jenny has an alibi for the time of Bates’ murder?”

  “Working at the drugstore. Manager confirms it.” Ethan set his mug on the coffee table. “Churchill Trail’s only a few minutes from the town square, though.”

  “She had reason to take out Bates. Afraid of him, afraid to leave him. Can’t see her terrorizing Madison or shooting me, though. No motive.”

  The front door opened, and Madison walked straight to Nick. Pale but calm and steady, she held out her hand. “I’m ready to go home.”

  Her lips still tingled from Nick’s heated good-night kiss. To distract her, he’d said. She smiled, her back against the kitchen door. No doubt about it. The man had a gift.

  “Keeping me company tonight?” Josh leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, a somber look on his face.

  “Serena called.” Of course Serena called. She passed the information to Josh so Madison wouldn’t have to relive the experience. She pulled the cell phone from her handbag, put it in her pocket, and stuffed the bag in a nearby cabinet.

  “You okay?” His gaze raked over her.

  She nodded and walked into his open arms. “I need to knit for a while. You have another book to read?” She lifted her head to look at him.

  Josh grinned. “I drove to a used bookstore in Knoxville today. Bought every Robert Parker book they had in stock.”

  Madison laughed. “You’ll spend at least a few hours tonight with Spenser and Hawk.” She stepped away from her brother, walked to the guest room and rummaged in the closet. She opened one bag, shook her head, and shoved it aside. There, in the corner. Stretching hard, she grabbed the bag, opened it and grinned. In the living room, she snagged knitting needles from the vase she used as a needle holder and settled on the couch.

  Josh looked up from his book. “That’s not for me, is it?”

  “You don’t want a white sweater with black polka dots?” Madison pulled one end of the yarn and cast on stitches. “Relax, it’s a hat for Julia. She loves the movie 101 Dalmatians. This yarn is sort of self-spotting, like a Dalmatian’s coat.”

  At 2:00 a.m., she finished Julia’s first hat. She weaved in loose ends of yarn and smiled. A perfect hat for a Dalmatian fan.

  She stretched and glanced at her brother. “Need anything before I go to bed?”

  Josh blinked, reminding her of an owl. “Finish the dog hat already or am I seeing spots in front of my eyes?”

  Madison laughed and gathered her supplies. “Night, Josh. Thanks for the company.”

  “No problem, sunshine.” He smiled. “If you can’t sleep, I’ll make some hot cocoa and tell you a bedtime story.”

  “Oooh, that’s tempting.” She leaned down and hugged him. “Don’t let me sleep past 7:00, okay?”

  “You got it.”

  She put Julia’s hat on her dresser and stroked the furry yarn. The soft texture should feel good to the little girl’s skin. She couldn’t wait to run it by the hospital tomorrow.

  “I can’t believe I missed them.” Rod stared at the pictures laid out on Ethan’s desk.

  The sun’s first rays swept across the office window as Ethan handed Rod a cup of coffee. “Nick didn’t see it at first, just felt it.” He nodded at the pictures. “Gruesome trophy.”

  “Points the finger back at Bates as the stalker and Nick as his killer.” Rod lifted his mug. “But everything I learned about Bates says he was a talker, not a doer. Only time he ever worked up enough grit to do something was when he killed his supervisor.”

  “Talked to Bates’ wife yet?”

  “Nope. She’s due back from a vacation in Lake Tahoe today.”

  “I’ll contact Ginger Bates. Confirm Jenny’s alibi, then run a background check on her.” Ethan rubbed his face. He’d stayed with Serena until 3:00 this morning, helping her mix and bake cookies for Julia’s fundraiser this afternoon and stealing a few knee-weakening kisses from the most beautiful woman on the planet. “Any progress digging into Castigian’s past?”

  Rod pulled a notebook from his pocket and flipped a few pages. “Enlisted in the army. Married Irene Gilmore while he was a private. Had two kids, a boy and a girl. Typical military family life, moving every couple of years to another base. Irene wanted him out of the military. Said the life was too hard for the kids and she wanted a husband who came home every night. Castigian mustered out with an honorable discharge in 1992. Worked as an electrician on various construction sites around the country. They moved to Knoxville in 1994.

  “The boy, Tom, ran with the wrong crowd, got hooked on cocaine. The Castigians hustled him in and out of drug rehab programs, but he couldn’t stay clean. John tracked down Tom’s supplier, told him to stay away from his son. Dealer laughed and said Tom was a good customer.” Rod glanced up, regret in his eyes. “In his arrest report, Nick wrote that John admitted killing the dealer to protect his son.”

  Ethan shook his head. “Might have saved Tom from that dealer, but hundreds more stood ready to take his place.” He’d lost count of how many times he’d heard a similar story from parents desperate to save their own son or daughter. Few of them turned to murder to solve their problem, though. “What about Castigian’s family?”

  Rod closed his notebook with a snap. “Irene drowned the pain with booze. After her husband died in prison, she overdosed on a cocktail of scotch and sleeping pills. The girl, Ava, convinced Tom to try the rehab program one more time. She had a job waiting for him when he got out. He stayed clean for two weeks. She found him dead in his bedroom, cocaine overdose.”

  “And Ava?”

  “Sold the house after burying Tom. Paid all the bills with the proceeds.”

  Ethan’s eyebrows shot up. “Sold the house?”

  “Neighbors said she wanted to move to another state, start over where no one knew her or her family. Couple of them thought she went to Minnesota.” He shrugged. “They’ve not heard from her since.”

  “Track her down; I want to talk to her.”

  “Turn left at the next intersection.” Madison scanned the houses on Bailey Street. “The brick with green shutters.” When he shut off the engine, she grabbed two bags of yarn from the back seat. “All right, Magnum, let’s see what information we can squeeze out of Mrs. Howard.”

  “Magnum?” He stared. “As in the television detective? I’m a little short to be Tom Selleck.”

  Madison grinned. “Maybe so, but as a heartthrob detective you’ve got him beat, hands down.” She laughed at his stunned expression, threw open the door and got out. It felt good to flirt a little. She’d decided halfway through knitting Julia’s hat to find a unique way to tell Nick she loved him, but hadn’t figured out how to do it yet.

  Arlene Howard opened the door dressed in a headband, bodysuit, leotards, socks and tennis shoes. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks flushed, a towel draped around her neck.

  “Madison, good to see you, dear.” She opened the door wider. “Come in. I can’t wait to see what you’ve brought me.” Her large solitaire diamond flashed, reflecting light from the sun. “And who is this gentleman? I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Arlene Howard.” She extended her hand to Nick, her eyes glittering with interest.

  “Nick Santana.”

  “Ah,” she said. “No one told me you were so handsome, Nick.” A look of speculation crossed her features, along with something else Madison couldn’t identify but didn’t like. Ar
lene released Nick’s hand, tucked her arm through his, and moved close to his side while she guided him into the house.

  Madison narrowed her eyes and slammed the door. Was she making a play for Nick? Arlene Howard, though a 60-year-old married woman, looked fifteen years younger. She frowned and trailed behind them to the den. By the time she walked into the room, Nick was seated on the large brown leather sofa, Arlene plastered to his side.

  “Lay the bags on the coffee table, dear.” She waved her hand in the table’s general direction, but didn’t take her gaze from Nick’s flushed face.

  Madison gritted her teeth. “Don’t you want to look at the yarn, Mrs. Howard?”

  “I’m sure it’s fine. You have good taste in yarn and men.” Arlene’s low laughter sounded provocative. She patted Nick’s arm. “I already signed the check. Just fill in the amount I owe you.”

  “Thanks,” Madison said in stilted tones. She picked up the check with a shaking hand and stuffed it in her handbag.

  Nick cleared his throat and shifted his body, putting distance between him and Arlene. “Mrs. Howard, how’s your husband? I know the fire at The Bare Ewe must have been a disappointment for him.”

  “Disappointment?” Arlene frowned. “Well, yes, I suppose it was a disappointment. Madison was a good tenant, always prompt in paying her rent.” She smiled and crossed her left leg over her right, rubbing against Nick.

  Madison smothered a smile when he turned sideways, his knees the only point of contact with Arlene. “Did you know he planned to sell the building? He wanted Madison to break her lease early.”

  “Of course, darling. He tells me everything.”

  Madison glared at the woman, not that it did any good. Arlene busied herself squeezing Nick’s knee and sliding her hand up to his thigh.

  “Why did he want to sell if she was such a good tenant?” Nick grabbed Arlene’s hand and moved it to the couch.

  “The hardware store’s not doing as well as he wanted.” Her hand moved back to his thigh. “Money’s a little tight. Did you know Charles is building our dream house in Florida? He wanted extra cash to encourage the contractor to finish by Christmas. I grew up in Ft. Lauderdale, and I just hate these hideous winters.”

  Nick got to his feet and moved away from the couch and Arlene. “Sounds nice. I’m not a fan of snow and ice either. What if he can’t sell? Will that slow down the building process?”

  She frowned. Madison didn’t know if she was unhappy over the prospect of the house in Florida not being ready or Nick being out of arm’s reach. “Oh, I don’t think so. We set aside money for years to build that house. I don’t know how much money’s in the account any more, but I’m sure it’s enough to complete the house.”

  Arlene Howard slammed the door behind them. Nick breathed easier. He rested his arm across Madison’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Close call,” he murmured.

  “That woman practically undressed you. I wanted to box her ears.”

  He chuckled and unlocked the passenger door. “She was aggressive,” he said. “And she may not be a customer after this.”

  “Can’t say I’m sorry, but why not?”

  He grinned. “When she sent you into the kitchen to get iced tea for all of us, she propositioned me.”

  “Nick!” Madison’s cheeks flushed.

  “Don’t worry, my virtue’s safe. I made it quite clear I’m not interested.”

  She glared back at the house. A curtain moved in the living room. Was she watching them? “I wondered why Mrs. Howard looked as if she’d slit my throat after I brought the tea. I didn’t think she’d do something like that. She’s older than my mother.”

  “Time to get moving. I feel her gaze drilling a hole in my back.” He got behind the wheel and cranked the car.

  “Where to next?”

  He backed down the driveway and turned toward town. “Otter Creek Hardware.”

  Charles Howard plastered a half-hearted smile on his face. “Mr. Santana, Mrs. Ryder. What can I do for you?”

  Nick stepped up to the counter and extended his hand. “I wanted to thank you for helping select Madison’s locks. They were perfect for what we needed.”

  Howard’s smile turned genuine.

  “I feel safer now, Mr. Howard,” Madison said. “Thank you.”

  “Glad to do it. Have the police figured out who’s stalking you?”

  “They’re still working on it.”

  The storekeeper nodded. “Well, is there something else I can help you with? Business will pick up in here before long and my clerk’s out sick.”

  “We’re talking to people who were in town late Wednesday night, asking if they noticed anything out of the ordinary. Someone mentioned seeing you.”

  Howard’s smile slipped. He glanced from one to the other. “Wednesday night?”

  He’s stalling. Nick raised his eyebrow and stared at the older man.

  “Oh, yes, I remember now. Forgot some paperwork here at the store. I ran in to get it, then left.”

  Nick tilted his head. “What time, Mr. Howard?”

  “Must have been around 8:00.” He nodded, as if thinking back. “Yes, 8:00.”

  “Your friend will confirm the time when we ask him?” Nick said.

  Howard paled. “Uh, well.”

  “You were seen outside The Bare Ewe with someone just before the fire started. Makes you a good suspect, one the police will be interested in interviewing.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I don’t think you set the fire,” Nick said, “but you have to admit the timing seems coincidental.” He let his expression morph into one of sympathy. “Look, Howard, we know about your losing streak in the stock market and the second mortgages on your properties. The beach house you’re supposed to be building in Florida’s still beachfront property, isn’t it?”

  Howard closed his eyes. “How did you find out?” he whispered. “I’ve been so careful.”

  “It’s a small town. Word gets around.” Nick didn’t think the man could get any paler. It seemed as if every drop of blood drained from his face.

  “Does my wife know?” His forehead beaded with sweat.

  Nick shook his head. “She’s planning to spend Christmas at the beach.”

  Howard pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped his brow. “We saved money for years and chose a house plan. Arlene selected colors. I invested a little money in the stock market, made a great return on it,” he said with a wry smile. “A friend told me about day trading and how much money he’d made in just a few months’ time. Gave me the name of a couple stocks that were going up in value, fast. Didn’t have enough cash at the time, so I took out second mortgages to cover the stock.

  “The stocks skyrocketed, so I invested more money, this time from the house fund. Within a month, both companies went bankrupt.” His face a mask of misery, Howard shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to give my wife the house she always dreamed about. We scrimped and saved for years, putting the kids through college and setting money aside for retirement. I have to replace the money before Arlene finds out our house fund might build a one-room shack. That’s why I wanted to sell the building, but I didn’t set the fire.”

  “Who was with you Wednesday night?”

  “My real estate agent, Craig Lawrence.” He turned. “Craig wanted a tour of the building, Mrs. Ryder. Said he had a possible client interested in buying the place. I left you a note, but it burned along with the store.”

  Nick frowned. “What time were you inside the store?”

  “Craig was thirty minutes late. Must have been 9:00 when he arrived.”

  “When did you leave?” Lawrence and Howard couldn’t have been in the store very long. Ethan said a caller reported the fire at 9:15.

  Howard gave a bitter laugh. “Two minutes later. Craig’s client was looking for twice the square footage of The Bare Ewe. He wanted to open a Chinese restaurant.”

  “Mrs. Bates, I’m Ethan Blackhawk wit
h the Otter Creek police department. I need to ask a few questions about your ex-husband.”

  “Yeah, sure. Hold on a minute.”

  Ginger Bates’ soft southern accent didn’t fit the grating voice emanating from the phone’s ear piece. Something metal, maybe a ring, clinked against the phone. She yelled at Jamie and Kara to go play in the other room. He jerked the phone from his ear.

  More fumbling and loud thumps. Ginger came back on the line. “Okay, sorry about that. I haven’t told the kids about their dad yet. Now, what do you need to know?”

  “When did you talk to Scott last?” His pen hovered over a yellow legal pad.

  “Late Wednesday night.”

  Ethan’s eyebrows shot up. “Why did he call?”

  “Told me about his father. He wanted the kids to see their grandfather one more time.” Her voice thickened. “I didn’t know he was so sick. Scotty was real upset about it.”

  “Anything else on his mind?” He didn’t know if Scott and Ginger were still civil after their divorce, but it was at least worth a shot.

  “Well, he mentioned the cop who arrested him a couple of years ago was hassling him.”

  “And?”

  “He said some odd things were happening around town, things he was afraid he’d get blamed for.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “The cop thought Scott stalked his girlfriend,” she said, “sent her dead flowers, messed up her car, burned down her business. He didn’t do those things, you know. He wasn’t like that.”

  “What was he like, Mrs. Bates?”

  “A good father. Crazy about Jamie and Kara, always calling home to talk to the kids when he was on the road. He’d call three times a day, before breakfast, after school and before bedtime, like clockwork.”

  “Where did he work?”