by LENA DIAZ,
“BOLO?”
“‘Be on the lookout.’ It tells law enforcement to keep an eye out for a particular person or vehicle or both. When the pictures came back, he knew there was a problem.” He pulled the paper straight and turned it around.
It was a grainy black-and-white picture of a white man, probably in his mid to late forties with a bald head and elaborate tattoos covering both of his beefy arms.
“Should I recognize him?” she asked.
His jaw tightened. “In theory, yes. It’s Todd Palmer. The real one.”
Chapter Thirteen
“We may not know the fake Palmer’s true identity yet,” Colby said. “But at least we have a lead on our mountain man.” He slid a folder across the conference room table toward Dillon and Blake. “Seems he’s had a few run-ins with the law around here. As soon as Piper and I described him, the sheriff knew exactly who we were talking about. His legal name is Daniel Jedidiah Holmes.”
“He calls himself Jedidiah, not Daniel,” Piper added from her seat beside Colby. She waved toward the food-filled table at the end of the glass-walled room. “Everyone in the sheriff’s office has been super nice and helpful. There’s coffee, soda, water, sandwiches, you name it.”
Dillon shook his head. “Thank you but I’d rather dig into this case instead of food right now.” He motioned toward the squad room visible through the glass. “Where is the sheriff? I didn’t see him when the deputy ushered us in here a few minutes ago.”
“He and a handful of his men are up on the mountain, searching for the body of Palmer’s thug that I killed, and for Jedidiah,” Colby told him. “I’m not holding out much hope that Jedidiah and his people stuck around. They probably grabbed what they could and hightailed it out of there right after they let us go.”
Blake was nodding before he’d finished. “I’ve dealt with squatters and drifters before. They’ve usually got bags packed to leave at a moment’s notice. Most of them are harmless.”
“This one isn’t.” Dillon closed the file he’d been flipping through and handed it to Blake. “Looks like a real prince. This guy’s been in trouble with the law since he was a juvenile. Mostly breaking and entering, trespassing, stealing cars. He’s been in and out of prison a few times, the last time a few months ago. His family or crew or whatever he calls them must have been up on the mountain, waiting for him while he was in prison. I can’t imagine that elaborate a setup, with all those outbuildings and that kitchen you described, being thrown together in just a couple of months. They’ve probably been squatting there for a long time.”
“There’s no history of violence here,” Blake said, skimming through the pages in the folder. “Mainly he’s a thief, but overall, harmless.”
“He sure as hell isn’t harmless,” Colby gritted out.
Blake held up his hands. “Sorry. You’re right. I was just interpreting what I saw on the rap sheet.”
Dillon tapped the file on Todd Palmer that he’d brought with him. “We need to figure out the connection between Palmer, or whatever his real name is, and this Jedidiah fellow. You two mentioned that both Jedidiah and his daughter were familiar with his name. But neither appeared to like him, which could suggest they’re enemies. If so, it makes sense that Palmer would drive all that way and dump you two on that particular mountain, knowing some cop-hating squatters lived there.”
“You think he figured Jedidiah would finish us off if Palmer’s own men didn’t manage to do the job?” Colby asked.
“Possibly. He might have even wanted to blame your deaths on Jedidiah once your bodies were found. Again, assuming they know each other and there’s bad blood between them.”
“I think you’re probably onto something. Why else would Palmer drive so far? There are other remote locations where he could have left us, much closer to Destiny.”
“Where do the horses fit in?” Piper asked. At their blank looks, she said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t butt into the investigation.”
Colby put his hand on her shoulder. “Your input is just as valuable as anyone else’s in this room. Don’t apologize. The truck and trailer and a description of both horses is in the BOLO, right, Dillon?”
“Right. And we’ve extended the BOLO to the entire state. Your rig and that black stallion are both attention getters. Someone’s bound to spot them and call them in.”
The sick feeling in her stomach told her that if Gladiator was okay, someone would have seen him by now. She smiled her thanks.
“I think we should focus on Palmer and let the sheriff deal with Jedidiah,” Colby said. “If we can figure out why Palmer chose that particular alias, it might help us get closer to figuring out his identity.”
He picked up the picture that Dillon and Blake had brought with them, a sketch of Palmer. Although Destiny didn’t have a sketch artist, they’d driven to a neighboring county that did and gave him their descriptions based on their encounters with Palmer at the fair.
Piper stared at the sketch in Colby’s hands. It was eerily accurate. She rubbed her arms, feeling cold all over again.
“You okay?” Colby asked.
“Just...remembering.” She looked at the other sketches of the men who’d been with Palmer, sketches made by the artist here a few hours earlier, based on her and Colby’s recollections.
“No one is going to hurt you again, Piper. I won’t let them.”
She smiled, then noticed Dillon and Blake watching them closely. “Sorry, please, continue your discussion. You think there was a special reason Palmer chose to impersonate the real Todd Palmer?”
“Maybe,” Dillon drawled, glancing back and forth between them. He rolled his shoulders as if to relieve some tension. “People tend to stick close to home, to places they’re familiar with, when committing crimes. Palmer has been all over Tennessee these past few weeks. We’ve traced him to half a dozen fairs. And yet the man he impersonated was from Lexington, Kentucky, not that far from your place, Miss Caraway.”
Colby absently tapped the table. “The alias came first, then the roaming around. I’d say he’s from the Bluegrass State.”
“I think so, too,” Dillon agreed. “Probably spent at least part of his formative years in or around Lexington. As for that alias, the address on the driver’s license that he gave us matches the real Palmer’s address. Only the picture is fake. What I don’t get is why he didn’t try to pick someone who at least bore a passing resemblance to him when choosing the alias in case anyone ever ran a search and pulled up the real Palmer’s photo. It’s almost like he was making some kind of joke, or thumbing his nose at law enforcement.”
“Or he never expected to get caught and didn’t worry about the photo,” Blake said.
“Maybe.” Dillon didn’t sound convinced.
“Whatever the reason,” Colby said, “just the fact that he impersonated a man from Lexington is enough for me to vote that we extend that BOLO to Lexington and the surrounding counties.”
“Agreed.” Dillon motioned to Blake.
Blake headed out of the room, presumably to modify the BOLO again.
As soon as the door closed, Colby asked, “Are Blake and Donna still at each other’s throats after the chief assigned Donna to mentor him?”
Dillon rolled his eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Wait,” Piper said. “Donna? The officer I met at the fair? I thought they were a couple.”
Both men laughed.
“That’s rich,” Colby said. “Donna’s going to love hearing that.” He chuckled again. “Donna’s a peacemaker, gets along with everybody and their brother. Blake, on the other hand, is like a burr under a saddle. He rubs everyone the wrong way. Out of desperation, our boss assigned Donna as his partner, to show him the ropes and help him get more acclimated to how we do things in Destiny. He’s former military and then was a detective in Knoxville before joining our squad.
He’s still clinging to his old ways, but we’ll bring him around.”
“If we don’t kill him first,” Dillon grumbled.
Piper wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. She’d definitely noticed tension between the two since they’d arrived. “He and Donna seemed to be getting along well at the fair.”
Dillon shook his head. “Looks can be deceiving. There’s a reason Donna begged for me to come up here instead of her. Originally, the chief wanted those two to make the drive while I stayed behind to keep things going in Destiny. But Donna said unless they wanted to bring Blake back in a body bag, that the chief had better assign someone else to go with him. I drew the short straw.”
“Gee, thanks,” Colby said.
Dillon grinned. “Nothing personal. But I’ve got a gorgeous wife and new baby at home waiting for me. Traveling as part of the job isn’t nearly the fun it used to be. Even if it’s to help a fellow officer and friend.”
Colby smiled. “I can understand that.” His replacement cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to look at the screen. “They’ve found the body of the man I stabbed up on the mountain. No identity yet but they’re scanning his prints. No sign of Jedidiah’s camp yet either. The CSI guys are going to process the spot where Palmer left us while the sheriff and his men continue the search for Jedidiah.”
Blake came back into the room and sat at the table. “I expanded the BOLO and spoke to Sheriff Jamie O’Leary of Meadow County, your county, Miss Caraway. One of his men was near the real Todd Palmer’s place when I called and went ahead and checked on him. He wasn’t there but a neighbor vouched for him, said he’s out of state on an extended trip trying to drum up new customers for his business. The neighbor spoke to him just this morning and said Todd’s fine and not expected back for a few more weeks. Apparently, that’s no secret around town either.”
Colby scrubbed the stubble on his chin. He and Piper had been treated to fresh clothes and new phones, courtesy of a sheriff-paid trip to Walmart, and the use of showers at a local motel after they’d first arrived. But he hadn’t taken the time to shave. He’d been too anxious to get to the police station and dig into the investigation. Piper would have preferred to get some sleep at the motel, but she didn’t want to be there alone and miss anything either.
“Maybe that’s why the fake Palmer chose that alias,” Colby said. “He didn’t have to worry about the real guy being around. Which means he probably does come from Lexington like we thought, and whatever clandestine business he’s doing, he expects to be done in the next few weeks before the real Palmer returns.”
“The only other connection to Lexington is the Caraway ranch, and you, Miss Caraway,” Dillon said. “Are you positive you’ve never seen fake Palmer before?” He tapped the picture on the table.
“Honestly, there’s nothing at all familiar about him. I’ve never met the real Palmer either.”
“But our guy met her parents,” Colby said. “Based on some things that he said, it seems like he must have met them. And they passed away about ten years ago.”
“My condolences,” Dillon said.
“Thank you. It’s been a long time.”
“That doesn’t mean the pain goes away. I lost my sister when I was in college and she was still in high school. I know it sticks with you.” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “As for this case’s connection to that horse of yours, Gladiator, did you get a chance to text that police artist sketch of Palmer to your ranch manager?”
“Actually, no. After our little shopping trip this morning for clothes and replacement phones, I called Billy. But that was just to let him know I was okay since I hadn’t checked in with him in a few days. I also had to tell him that Gladiator was missing and to postpone any upcoming stud service appointments until we know if he’s...” She cleared her throat. “Until we know whether we’ll get him back. I’ll text him a picture of the sketch you brought with you. It’s a lot better than the one the artist here rendered for Colby and me.”
She snapped a picture of the sketch, then typed a text message and hit Send. A few seconds later, they had their reply. Billy confirmed that the man he’d given Gladiator to was indeed the man in their sketch.
“Not that there was much of a question at this point,” Colby said, “but it’s good to have confirmation. So we’re back to why did he choose Piper’s ranch, why Gladiator and why did he want to kill Piper?”
“And you,” she added.
He shook his head. “No. None of this points to me. I was just in the way. It all seems to center around you.”
“I have to agree,” Blake added. “We need more background on you and your family, including the business that you run.” He grabbed a pen and a legal pad from a stack on the table. “If Palmer knew your parents, then he was in the area ten-plus years ago. You said you left after they died. When did you come back?”
She frowned. “Well, I came back to the ranch as soon as I legally could, after I turned eighteen. I loved my aunt Helen, but I wanted to go home and take over the running of the business from Billy.”
Dillon’s head snapped up from the notes he’d been writing. “Your manager ran the business alone until you came back?”
“For the most part. He sent reports to my aunt and she approved expenditures over a certain amount and reviewed any contracts, but overall, yes, he ran things. Why?”
“How long was he in charge?”
“Aunt Helen hired him after my parents’ car accident. So, I guess about four or five years. But I’ve been overseeing it for the past six years and hired him back as my assistant once I realized I needed help. If you think he resents me being in charge, you’re wrong. Billy’s as easygoing as they come. And if he had any issues with me, I’d have seen some kind of evidence long before now.”
“You’re probably right. Still, we need to look into this Billy guy. Last name?”
“Abbott.” She spelled it and he wrote it down.
“Okay,” Blake said. “Someone mentioned earlier that you’ve never seen Palmer. So that means he was out of the picture for the past six years at least. But a few months ago he shows up with the fraudulent paperwork and steals your horse, while you’re out of town.” He tapped his pencil on his tablet. “I’m not sure whether he wanted you to find him or not. But regardless, he had hired muscle to deal with you—and the policeman who inconveniently got in the way—without having to scramble for a backup plan. He was prepared ahead of time. That’s not the hallmark of a rookie. He’s more than likely a career criminal. And I can think of only one reason a career criminal would disappear for several years, then suddenly show up again.”
“Prison,” Colby and Dillon both said at the same time.
“And now he’s on parole, or he served his whole term and is out for good,” Colby added. “Assuming that he really did disappear and wasn’t just around somewhere else and Piper didn’t happen to see him. But that’s a good working theory. We could check into any prisoner releases in Kentucky about two months ago, convicts who match Palmer’s description.”
“I’m on it. I’ll check prisons in Tennessee, too, just in case,” Blake said and headed out of the room again.
Piper blinked at the closing door. “He’s certainly energetic, hopping in and out of the room all the time to research things.”
Dillon snorted. “He’s just glad for an excuse to get away from me.”
Colby grinned and looked at Piper. “Didn’t you tell me earlier that your ranch was going great up until a few months ago? That you were even planning on expanding, building a new stable?”
“Adding on to our existing stables, yes. The stables are in great shape even though they’re eight or nine years old. They’re at the edge of the property, on a tract of land my father sold to my neighbor—Mr. Wilkerson—back when I was still in middle school. At the time, Mr. Wilkerson had a booming breeding business and want
ed the land for grazing. But then my parents died and I was sent to Paducah to live with my aunt. And while I was gone, Mrs. Wilkerson died of cancer and Mr. Wilkerson sold off his horses and quit the business.”
She waved her hand. “Sorry, I’m getting to the point, which is that once I came back and was running the ranch and things were going well, I bought the land back from Mr. Wilkerson to expand. The nearly new state-of-the-art stables were built on that parcel right before his wife got sick. He put his whole life on hold to care for her and never even used the stables. They sat empty and were in pristine condition. When I offered to buy the land with the stables, he made a counteroffer with a much lower price.”
“Lower?” Colby shook his head. “Why would he do that?”
“I think he just wanted to get rid of everything having to do with the business. And he decided to give me the same price that he’d originally paid for the land from my dad. Maybe he thought he was doing me a favor or honoring my father, I don’t know. I argued with him, believe me. But in the end, he gave me an ultimatum to take the deal or forget it. I took the deal.”
“What do stables cost?” Colby asked. “Are we talking an insane amount of money here?”
She felt her face flush with heat. “I don’t know about insane, but it’s in the hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
Dillon exchanged a quick glance with Colby before looking at her again. “Does Wilkerson have a family? Someone who might resent him making that deal, essentially foregoing money that could have fattened their inheritance?”
She shook her head. “Not that I know of. He and his wife never had any children. I remember Mom saying that Mrs. Wilkerson was an only child, that her parents had died a long time back. Mr. Wilkerson had a sister or brother, but they were estranged. The only reason that I know he had a sibling is because his nephew visited them one summer for a few weeks. I think his name was Dwayne or something like that. But it’s not like our families were close or we were always watching the road out front. Even though they’re neighbors, I can only see their house from the stables on our land. So there could have been other relatives who visited that we never knew about.” She shook her head again. “Sorry. I know I’m not much help.”