by Aimée Thurlo
Holly stood behind Paul, looking at the image sections he’d delineated and placed side by side on the large monitor.
“Does anyone sitting around Yazzie look familiar to you?” Daniel asked her as his brother slowly advanced the images.
“That guy wearing the cap and sunglasses has been showing up on the most recent frames, but I can’t make out his face. It’s always shaded by the cap,” Holly said.
Paul continued to advance the images. “The guy’s kept a schedule that matches Yazzie’s, but he always seems to keep his face down and his back to the camera.”
“Either he’s camera shy or someone determined to keep a low profile,” Daniel said.
“I just noticed something, the first time he showed up was the day after I was attacked. Do either of you think that’s a coincidence?” Holly asked, pointing at the screen.
“Let’s see if we can spot him before then,” Paul said.
They searched the two previous weeks, but they couldn’t find anyone who seemed to fit.
“I wish there were better shots of that guy,” she said, shaking her head.
“Maybe you can get a better look in person,” Paul said. “If he stays on schedule Joe should be coming in about a half hour from now. Maybe his shadow will, too. Stick around, set up downstairs and see what happens.”
“Good plan. I think he might be trying to get Joe’s latest password,” Daniel said. “Maybe Holly can ID him. The downside is that if he’s our stalker, he’s also bound to recognize Holly and me.”
“Don’t go in together just in case he comes early and sit separately. Holly can get a baseball cap and tuck her hair into it,” Paul said, then looking at her, added, “Maybe you should also wear Daniel’s leather jacket, too. It’ll bulk you up a little.”
“That should do it, particularly since he has no way of knowing we’ll be here and won’t be looking for trouble,” Holly said.
“I’ll sit across the room with my back to the camera. If he’s avoiding getting caught on video, I should be safe enough,” Daniel said. “I have a pair of yellow shooting glasses I can wear, as well, to alter my appearance.”
“Reasonable. You two can stay in touch via phone. You have Bluetooths?” Paul asked.
She reached into her purse, and brought one out.
Daniel nodded, reaching into his pocket. “Looks like we’re all set,” he said, giving Holly his jacket as Paul handed her a Hartley Scorpions baseball cap.
“I’ll be up here, keeping watch,” Paul said. “If you need help, either of you, just touch your right earlobe and I’ll come down.”
“Your shoulder’s still not healed,” Daniel said, noting the way Paul favored it even while sitting. “I can handle this, but thanks for the offer.”
“Anytime—I mean that.”
“I know,” Daniel said, bumping fists with his brother again. “I’ll check in with you later, bro.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Once they reached the pickup, Daniel put on his yellow sunglasses, then backed out of the parking spot, waiting while Holly put on her disguise.
She leaned forward and stuck her auburn hair inside the cap, then pulled it low on her face. “Is Paul’s fetish a lynx?” Seeing him nod, she continued, “I can’t remember what the lynx stands for. Isn’t it something to do with secrets?”
He nodded. “Lynx medicine allows a person to see what others don’t, so he becomes one who can discern even the most highly guarded secrets.”
“That fits with what you told me about him,” she said.
After a brief silence, Daniel spoke, his mind back on the case. “I’ve been thinking of the guy with the cap,” he said slowly. “He didn’t seem to be Navajo, which tends to rule out all our best suspects.”
“I know, and we already know it can’t be Ross Williams,” she said as he pulled to a stop.
“I won’t be far,” he said as she climbed out of the truck.
Holly walked in first. The coffee shop smelled of peppermint and pumpkin spice, two of her favorite flavors. With a laptop in hand, she bought herself a tall mug of coffee at the counter, then went to a corner table. No one looked in her direction once she was seated. Most people there were focused on their laptops, phones or on their companions.
Yazzie walked in less than five minutes later and sat in his usual booth. Daniel followed a minute afterward. He got himself a large black coffee, then went to a table, holding a newspaper.
“Anything interesting?” he asked, calling her on his phone via Bluetooth.
“Nothing yet,” she said, looking up at the surveillance camera mounted near the ceiling to her right.
They waited, and within ten minutes, an Anglo man wearing a baseball cap walked in carrying a laptop. He stopped at the counter for a coffee, then sat one booth away from Yazzie, his back to the camera. He immediately opened his laptop and began to type, his head down.
“That could be the guy on the video. He’s in profile, but I think I recognize him. I’m just not sure from where,” she said.
“That’s Arthur Larrabee,” Daniel said a beat later. “We haven’t considered him, but his body type fits our suspect, and when he crossed the room he had a trace of a limp—maybe the result of a rock slide?”
“Give me a few more minutes, then I’ll leave through the side door,” she said.
“Excellent idea, but I need to get out of here right now. If he spots me he’ll know we’re on to him. I’ll be in Gene’s truck, waiting,” Daniel said.
Holly saw Daniel leave, then followed a minute or two later. As she reached the parking lot, Holly spoke into the Bluetooth. “There’s a black Jeep parked here now that looks familiar. What caught my eye is the college parking sticker. I think this is the same Jeep I saw parked off the road when I was on my way to the plant—the same day I was attacked. Now that I think about it, Larrabee could have been the man I saw, except for the fact that the guy I saw out there had a beard.”
“Larrabee had one before. He said it made his terrorist role-playing more credible. Then the day of the exercise, I noticed that he’d shaved it off. Interesting coincidence,” Daniel said. “Point out the Jeep you were talking about, but don’t wander over to it, keep walking to the pickup. I’m parked in the rear, near the stairs.”
“It’s the one to the right of the door. I remember seeing the red F college parking sticker that day. I assumed that the man was either an archeologist or a geologist looking for samples. The beard helped me complete the stereotype, I guess.”
By the time Holly reached the pickup, Daniel was already talking to Gene on the phone.
“What did you get on the plate?” Holly asked Daniel after he hung up.
“It’s registered to Arthur Larrabee all right,” he answered. Daniel stared ahead for several seconds, gathering his thoughts, then glanced back at her. “How much do you remember about him?”
“He headed the opposing team during the training exercise. He’s also running for city council in Hartley. What I can’t do is say for sure that Larrabee is the person who came after me or tried to shoot us,” she said. “I also have no idea why he would attack me. The Jeep certainly fits the one I saw, but that’s hardly evidence of anything. The only thing we really have is that he appears to be the same man who sits close to Joe when he comes in, and that the shadowing began after I was attacked. If we could find proof that he’s the hacker, we might be able to tie him to the rest of it.”
“Yeah, but if he made us back there, he’s going to start cleaning up. Larrabee’s smart, so he’ll make sure that there’s no evidence left to tie him to the crime.”
“I still don’t know why I’ve become his target, but if he’s really the one, we can’t let him get away. We have to do something.”
“We won’t stop until you find justice.”
She took a shaky breath. “If we’re right about this, Larrabee will do his best to destroy both of us. We’ll be part of what he’s cleaning up.”
“Think hard, Ho
lly. Do you have any connection to Arthur Larrabee—besides the fact that you saw him digging that morning?” Daniel said.
She paused before answering. “No, but I remember my friend Jane Begay told me that Larrabee’s former girlfriend, Megan Olson, is missing and he was being questioned by the police. Martin was concerned because he didn’t want any negative publicity, even by association.”
“That’s the first I’ve heard about that. Let me talk to Preston. He should be able to tell me what’s going on with that case.”
They went directly to the Hartley Police Station, and before long found their way to Preston’s office. Preston looked up from his work station and gave them a quick half smile.
“You’ve been busy,” Preston said. “I just heard from Paul. So what do you have for me?”
They both took a seat, then updated the detective.
“Larrabee’s still a person of interest in the Olson missing person’s case. Their breakup was really ugly, apparently, and she’d threatened to have him charged with abuse,” Preston said, then focused his laser sharp gaze on her. “Are you sure he’s the one you saw digging?”
She hesitated and Preston picked up on that instantly.
“You can’t make a positive ID, can you?”
“No, and I didn’t actually see him digging, either,” she said, then explained. “Can you give me a good sharp photo of Larrabee and maybe add a beard to it? A well-trimmed beard, an inch long, tops.”
“Let me pull up a photo we have on file,” Preston said. He opened a facial recognition program, copied Larrabee’s image onto the screen, and using the mouse, added a beard. Moments later, Preston turned the screen so she could see it.
Holly looked at the altered photo. “That’s him. No doubt,” she said. “He’s the guy I saw by the Jeep.”
“So why has Arthur been shadowing Joe Yazzie lately when he goes into Tribal Perks?” Preston asked.
“The only reason I can think of is that he needs to keep up with the new passwords so he can access Joe’s files and check on Holly’s whereabouts,” Daniel said.
“He could have hacked the password, which allowed him to learn our route, then find us in the woods,” Holly added.
Preston stared at his desktop as if trying to make up his mind about something. After a moment, he stood, closed his office door, then returned to his desk.
“Off the record, okay?” He saw Daniel and Holly nod, then continued, “We’ve been after Larrabee for a while, but he’s as slippery as a greased pig.” Preston repositioned his computer screen, hit a few keys, then turned the screen back toward her. It was a Google Earth aerial view of the general area around the tribe’s natural gas plant. He then pointed to the road she’d mentioned taking that fateful morning. “Can you identify the area where you saw him?”
“Right there,” she said, pointing. “It’s where the road turns back to the north. To the left of that is a dry arroyo and low ridge. Beyond, the ground slopes away to the west.”
“This is on the Navajo Nation, so it’s out of my turf,” Preston said. “I’ll contact the tribal police and send them an image with these coordinates. They’re shorthanded, so I’m not sure when they’ll get someone out there to check. It may take half a day.”
“Larrabee’s no one’s fool. If he thinks we’re on to him, he’s not going to wait for the noose to tighten. He’s going to move that body,” Daniel said.
“I’ll put some pressure on the request,” Preston said with a nod, “but in the meantime, remember that Larrabee was a police officer at one time. He’s armed and dangerous—not your usual suspect. Watch your backs.”
By the time they were inside the truck, Holly’s hands were shaking. She clutched them tightly but Daniel noticed and placed his hand over hers. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m terrified that this man will slip away from us and I’ll have to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder,” she said, her voice rising. “I know what that’s like, Daniel. I grew up with that kind of fear and I can’t live my life that way again.”
“It won’t happen. If the police find Megan Olson’s body at that location, things are going to come together fast.”
“But what if he’s already moved the body? Or worse, what if he left town after spotting us at the coffee shop? The police are going to need my testimony to link him to the crime even if they find the body, so he’ll see me as a loose end he can’t afford to ignore. Unless we catch him now, I’ll never be able to have a normal life again.”
Daniel said nothing for several long moments. “You’ve got a lot of courage, Holly, but are you really ready to do what’s necessary to pressure him into making a mistake? It’ll entail some serious risks, and the ability to act off the cuff. We can’t stick to any particular plan, only a strategy.”
She nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s do it. One way or the other, Art Larrabee’s going down.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
They arrived at a residential area filled with mostly older homes and southwest landscaped yards shortly after sundown. Though daylight was fading fast, it was still possible to see clearly.
“It’s quiet here, like it was around my neighborhood—till I moved in,” Holly said with a sad smile.
Though she was fighting to hold herself together, he could sense her fear. It drove him crazy to see her look like that. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. The need to protect her pounded through him like a fire in his blood.
He remembered the scared kid he’d been once, always over-compensating by trying to act tough. Experience had taught him that showing any weakness was like leaving a trail of blood in the woods. It turned you into instant prey.
Only someone who’d known terror firsthand could really understand what she was going through. Unrelenting fear ate you up from the inside out and that’s what he saw in Holly’s eyes and in her shaky smile. He could see how tightly she clung to her purse, protecting the one link she still had to her past. She was strong, but she’d been stripped of nearly everything that mattered to her and pushed to the breaking point.
Larrabee was a lethal adversary who knew how to zero in on his opponent’s vulnerabilities and who would strike with precision and without mercy. Daniel wasn’t afraid for himself, but the thought of anything happening to Holly made him go cold inside. She was his weakness, and if Larrabee ever discovered that, he’d use it to bring both of them down.
“That’s Larrabee’s home, the one at the end of the cul-de-sac,” Daniel said after a moment.
“It backs up against the bosque trail. Nice place,” she said wistfully. “When I first started looking for a home, I tried to buy one in this neighborhood, but I couldn’t afford it. I had this dream…” Her voice trailed off.
“Don’t stop there,” he said, parking at the curb several doors down from Larrabee’s house. From their location, he could keep three sides of the house under constant surveillance. “Tell me about your dream.”
“I wanted to own a place with some land so I could get a horse.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “It would have had to have been an extremely gentle animal, because the last time I went riding I was seven and the pony was being led by its owner.”
He smiled. “If you move into the cabin you could buy a horse. There’s plenty of space for one. Or you could borrow one from Gene and see how it works out for you.”
Holly shook her head. “I can’t plan that far ahead.” She stopped, blinked and gave him a startled look. “Did I really say that?” She let her breath out in a sigh. “I used to plan everything. I could tell you exactly where I wanted to be ten years down the line.” She smiled slowly. “You know, I’ve wasted a lot of time on dreams.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having dreams.”
“Maybe there is, if you spend so much time creating them that you forget that life isn’t really something any of us can control.” She paused. “I’ve learned a lot—about myself, about what’s important�
�since this all started.”
His gaze held hers. “Maybe we both have. I’m not a man of fancy words, Holly, but…I’ll stick with you no matter what happens,” he said at last. He’d meant to tell her that he loved her, but the words had gotten all tangled up in his throat. A man who was a man didn’t talk mush—his actions showed what was in his heart. Surely that was enough, wasn’t it?
She leaned over and kissed him. It was a tender kiss, filled with sweetness and longings. Then she whispered something in his ear. Stunned, he sat frozen. Had she just told him that she loved him? Before he could say a word, she opened the door and started walking down the sidewalk toward Larrabee’s house.
He hurried after her and pulled her aside, behind a tree. “Are you crazy? What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Even as the words came out of his mouth, he realized that this wasn’t at all what he’d wanted to say…or do.
“There are no signs that he’s been here lately. Several newspapers are on the front lawn, and no lights are on inside. Let’s take a closer look. The house next to his is up for sale, so if any neighbor comes out and asks, we can say we’re shopping for a home.”
“Slow down,” he said, grabbing her hand. Though he’d stopped in front of the house for sale, his focus was on Larrabee’s property.
“Oops, my mistake. He has been here,” she said, gesturing with her chin.
He followed her gaze. The Jeep she’d seen with the college parking sticker was parked in the alley at the back of the property, just beside a gate in the chain-link fence.
“He was smart enough to hide it back there, his only option since he doesn’t have a garage,” he said.
“So he must know we’re on to him. He might be inside—”
“Hello, young people,” an elderly woman said, coming out of the house they’d just walked past. She was holding a surly, squash-nosed bundle of brown hair that barked and growled at them. “Don’t mind Mr. T. He’s cranky to strangers at first, but he warms up eventually. Just don’t try and pet him.”