Lone Wolf Lawman

by Delores Fossen

  He lifted his shoulder. “I don’t know what to think at this point. I just want to rule her out. Before we left the sheriff’s office, I requested a background check on her late husband.”

  Judging from the way the color drained from her face, she had considered the possibility that her birth mother might factor into this investigation.

  “We can postpone this visit,” he offered.

  “No.” Addie didn’t hesitate, either.

  Good thing, too, because when Jericho pulled up in front of the house, the woman was in the doorway, clearly waiting for them. It was Daisy all right. She matched the photo from the DMV. Snow-white hair and with a face that showed every year of her age, but she had a sturdy build. A smile, too. But that smile did nothing to put Weston at ease.

  “Don’t get out yet,” Weston said when Addie reached for the door handle.

  Jericho confirmed that with a nod, and both the sheriff and deputy got out first. Weston followed them. All with their guns drawn. If Daisy was alarmed by that, she didn’t show it. She stayed in the doorway, hugging her coat to her. A coat that could be used to conceal a weapon.

  Deputy Parkman checked the left side of the house. Jericho, the right. Weston stayed put and kept an eye on Daisy and Addie.

  “I got no plans to hurt anybody,” Daisy volunteered.

  But Weston didn’t take her word for it. “Then you won’t mind if I frisk you?”

  “Wouldn’t mind at all.” She held open the coat and let him do just that. Since Daisy was almost as tall as he was, she looked him straight in the eyes while he searched her.

  No weapon, and Weston didn’t see one in the small living room just behind her.

  “Nothing,” Jericho announced, and the deputy agreed.

  Only then did Weston motion for Addie to get out, and Daisy’s gaze stayed on her as she made her way onto the porch.

  “Come inside,” Daisy offered, taking off her coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. “It’s too cold to be standing out here gabbing.”

  It was. But since there might be hired guns inside, Weston stepped into the living room with Addie, and her brother and the deputy searched the house. It didn’t take them long, just a couple of minutes, since the place wasn’t that big.

  “Take a seat,” Daisy insisted.

  Addie did, sitting on the sofa next to Daisy. The rest of them stood.

  Daisy studied her. “Yep, you’re that little girl that was here, all right. Faces age, they change, but eyes always stay the same.”

  Addie studied the woman as well, no doubt trying to figure out if she recognized her. Or if there was a family resemblance. There wasn’t. Well, none that Weston could see anyway.

  “You said you knew who I was,” Addie prompted.

  She nodded. “Me and my husband never did make money running this place so I use to do babysitting on the side. Folks came and went over the years, and one of those years, a man dropped by. Said he was a traveling salesman and that his wife had run off and that he needed somebody to watch his little girl for a week while he was looking for a new place to live. Her name was Gabrielle.”

  Addie repeated that name several times and then shook her head. “That doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “The man called you Gabbie,” Daisy added.

  That still didn’t seem to ring any bells with Addie.

  “Gabbie,” Daisy went on. “Didn’t really fit because you said hardly more than a couple of words the whole week you were here.”

  “You remember the man’s name?” Weston asked.

  “Alton Boggs wanted to know the same thing when he came to visit. I couldn’t recall it right off, but after Boggs left, I got to thinking, and I’m pretty sure the man’s name was Steve Birchfield.”

  “I’m on it,” Deputy Parkman said, taking out his phone. He stepped to the other side of the room.

  Weston moved closer to Daisy. “What did this man look like?”

  “Tall, lanky. Dark brown hair. Oh, and he was impatient,” Daisy added after a long pause. “Real impatient. He didn’t seem as interested in making sure his little girl was okay as he was getting out of here. Kept going on about how his wife running off was at the worst possible time and that it might cost him his job if he didn’t get someone to watch the kid. The kid, that’s what he kept calling her.”

  Addie looked up at Weston, and he could almost see what she was thinking. That sounded a lot like someone they’d recently met. Canales.

  “Do you know Ira Canales, Boggs’s campaign manager?” Weston asked.

  Daisy thought about it a few seconds. “Can’t say I do. He wasn’t with Boggs when he came to visit a couple of months back.” She paused, looked up at Weston. “Is there something creepy about Boggs, or is it just me?”

  Yeah, but Weston wanted to know more about what Daisy thought. “Creepy how?”

  “Well, he said he was here trying to track down anything about the little girl that the Moonlight Strangler fathered, that he was talking to lots of folks around here, but the thing is he didn’t stop by any of my neighbors. Just here. I asked them, and none of them had laid eyes on him.”

  Interesting, and it contradicted what Boggs had told them. “So, why do you think he came to see you?”

  She leaned closer as if about to tell a secret. “Well, I believe it’s because he really wanted to find Steve Birchfield. That’s who he was asking questions about. I figure that Birchfield fella might know something that Boggs wants to know.”

  “You mean like the identity of the Moonlight Strangler?” Addie asked.

  Daisy shrugged. “I guess it coulda been that, but I just got the feeling that it might be, well, more.”

  More could be just Boggs’s obsession with finding the person who’d murdered his childhood friend. But it could be something else. Something far more dangerous if Boggs had a more personal link to the killer.

  Or if Boggs was the killer.

  “How did Boggs know that Birchfield had been here thirty years ago?” Addie asked.

  “Talk around town, I guess. Hadn’t really kept it much of a secret.”

  Well, it hadn’t been common knowledge because today was the first Weston had heard about it. Of course, there’d been plenty of leads just like this one that’d fizzled out.

  “Is it possible that Steve Birchfield wasn’t the little girl’s father?” Weston continued.

  Daisy’s eyes widened. “You know, that is possible. I mean he didn’t look a lick like her. And she didn’t even give him so much as a goodbye when he left her here, much less a hug. When he would come by in the evenings to check on her, she’d just shy away from him.”

  That put a new spin on things. If Boggs turned out to be Addie’s birth father, and the Moonlight Strangler, then maybe this Birchfield guy was trying to hide Addie.

  “If the girl had been hurt or anything, bruises and such,” Daisy went on, “I would have called somebody about that, but other than looking kinda sad and shy around her so-called daddy, she was fine the whole time she was here.”

  “Was there a swing set in the yard?” Addie asked.

  Jericho looked surprised at the question. But not Daisy.

  “Yes, there was. Honey, that was years ago. The thing rusted so bad that I had to have it hauled off to the dump. Why? You remember that?”

  “No.” Addie’s answer was quick. “Not really. I’m probably thinking of one that used to be at the Appaloosa Pass Ranch.”

  A lie, but it was one Weston appreciated. Even if the swing set was a genuine memory, he didn’t want her sharing it with Daisy. Not until they were certain they could trust the woman.

  Deputy Parkman finished his call and walked back toward them. “There’s no Steve Birchfield who matches the right age. There’s also no birth record for Gabrielle or Gabbie Birchfield. You’re certain that was his name?”

  “That’s the name he gave me,” Daisy insisted. “But I got no way of knowing if he told me the truth or not. He paid in cash, and I didn
’t ask for an ID or anything. It didn’t work that way thirty years ago. I just trusted him to be who he said he was and didn’t give it a second thought until Alton Boggs came to visit.”

  Yes, and Weston wanted to question Boggs further about that visit. Boggs had made it seem random, but it was looking more and more like an intentional visit. First though, Weston had another question for Daisy.

  “Why didn’t you call the cops when you remembered this Birchfield and the little girl?”

  “I did,” Daisy answered. “I called the FBI tip line number that I found in the phone book and said for them to look into it. I never heard back from them.”

  Probably because the FBI got hundreds of tips each day. Besides, until Addie had brought up that swing set, it really wasn’t much of a connection. Forty miles was a lot of distance between here and the Crockett ranch.

  “How much time was there between the little girl being dropped off here with you and Addie showing up near the Appaloosa Pass Ranch?” Jericho asked.

  “I don’t have any idea.” Daisy’s mouth trembled a little. “That was a bad time for me. My husband, Ernest—God rest his soul—was killed in an accident. It took me a while to pull myself together.”

  Jericho made a sound that could have meant anything, including some sympathy. “Is that why you didn’t notice Addie’s picture in the papers? After my dad found her, he had the newspapers run her picture for a month or more.”

  Daisy shook her head. “I didn’t see it, sorry. Like I said, it was a bad time for me.” Her gaze went back to Addie. “Guess it was a rough time for you, too.”

  “I don’t remember any of it,” Addie assured her.

  “That’s probably for the best.” Daisy slid her hand over Addie’s. “It don’t matter what name that Steve Birchfield gave me. You’re the little girl that was here. I’m sure of it.”

  Weston had no idea if it was true, and it didn’t matter. If Daisy believed it and if the Moonlight Strangler learned she might have any information about him, then Daisy might become his target.

  Even though Weston didn’t say that to Jericho, it was obvious it had occurred to him, too.

  “Daisy, why don’t you follow us into town so we can talk with the county sheriff and he can take your statement?” Jericho suggested. Except it was more of an order. “It’ll be a good idea if you didn’t stay here by yourself for a while. Have you got some other place you can go, like maybe to a friend or relative?”

  Weston expected her to show some concern. Maybe even fear. But Daisy got to her feet and hiked up her chin. “I’m not gonna let some pea-brained serial killer run me out of my home. I’ll talk to the county sheriff. I’ll do all the statements you want, but when I’m done, I’m coming right back here.”

  Good grief. He hardly knew her, but Weston doubted she would budge on this. That meant she’d need protection. Maybe something that could be arranged with the county sheriff.

  “You can ride with Daisy,” Jericho told his deputy. “I’ll take Weston and Addie back to Appaloosa Pass and then meet you at the county sheriff’s office.”

  That probably meant Jericho wanted to question Daisy further. But thankfully Addie wouldn’t have to be around for that. She’d already had enough put on her shoulders today. Plus, she had to be stressed about what all of this was doing to the baby.

  Weston sure was.

  “The FBI will need to know about this,” Addie said to him on their way out the door.

  They would. It was the same for Daisy. She would have to recount her story to them and probably meet with a sketch artist to come up with a composite for Birchfield. “But this might be the break we’ve been looking for.”

  A break that would only come once Addie was put through yet more tests and questions to help jog her memory. Weston only hoped she could handle anything she might recall.

  After all, she could have witnessed one or more of her father’s murders.

  “My truck’s parked by the side of the house,” Daisy said to the deputy. She grabbed her cell phone, put it in her purse and locked the door behind them. “No need for you to go with me, though. I can get there all by myself.”

  “I’m sure you can,” the deputy said, “but I was hoping you could show me the way. I’m not familiar with this area.”

  It was the right thing to say. Daisy clearly wanted to stand on her own two feet, but she wouldn’t refuse to help someone. Or at least she wanted them to believe she was cooperating.

  Weston wasn’t sure which.

  He took Addie’s arm as they headed out the door and then remembered he didn’t want anyone, including Daisy, to think they were a couple. He backed away from Addie and went ahead of the others toward the cruiser. However, he’d only made it a few steps when all hell broke loose.

  And the shots rang out.

  Chapter Nine

  The sounds of gunfire and Daisy’s scream seemed to explode in Addie’s head. The bullet had come close to her. Too close.

  And before the fear and adrenaline could slam through her, Weston had his arm around her and dragged her to the ground on the side of the concrete steps that led up to the porch.

  Not a second too soon.

  Because another shot came her way and smashed into the dirt where she’d just been standing.

  She was definitely the target, and the shots seemed to be coming from the old barn out in what was left of the pasture. There was another gunman. One who clearly wanted her dead.

  Deputy Mack Parkman was on the porch, and he took hold of a still-screaming Daisy and pushed her behind some rocking chairs. Jericho took up cover behind the step railing. They were all out in the open.

  All vulnerable.

  Again.

  Addie cursed the fact that once again her blood ties had put people in danger. Including her baby.

  When was this going to stop?

  At least Weston and she were semiprotected by the steps, but the railing and the rocking chairs weren’t nearly enough to stop bullets. Mack and Daisy were especially vulnerable, but the shooter didn’t take aim at them.

  She hoped that wasn’t because the shooter and Daisy were working together. But if they were, Daisy was putting up a good act because the woman seemed genuinely terrified.

  Addie sure was.

  The fear rose in her throat. Bitter and cold like the air. She had to fight to hold on to her breath, had to fight to keep it steady, too. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if she hyperventilated or panicked.

  More shots came, one right behind the other. Weston stayed down on the ground with her, sheltering her with his body. Jericho, however, lifted his head and gun, and he fired in the direction of the barn.

  “You see him?” Weston asked.

  Jericho shook his head. “Not yet. One of us needs to get into the cruiser and pull it closer.”

  Since it was bullet resistant, that’s exactly where she wanted to be, but she wanted the others in there, too. However, the cruiser was a good fifteen feet away, and there was nothing but open space between it and the porch.

  “Stay down,” Weston told her.

  But Weston didn’t stay down. “Cover me,” he told Jericho a split second before he moved off her. Only then did Addie realize he was heading for the cruiser.

  Almost immediately, their attacker sent some shots Weston’s way. Addie’s heart pounded even harder, her throat tightened, and she could only watch, and pray, as Weston scrambled across the ground.

  Jericho fired at the barn, and with the shots coming from the gunman, the sound was almost deafening. It seemed to take Weston an eternity to dive to the side of the cruiser, but she figured it was mere seconds.

  “Keys,” Jericho said, and he tossed them to Weston.

  Weston didn’t waste any time opening the cruiser door closest to him, and he climbed in. Started the engine.

  The gunman was fixed on Weston now. Or rather on the cruiser tires. Addie had no idea if they, too, were bullet or puncture resistant. If they weren’t and if
the gunman managed to shoot them out, they’d be stuck. Yes, Daisy’s truck was on the side of the house, but it would be dangerous to try to get to it.

  Of course, staying put would be dangerous, as well.

  One of the bullets slammed into the front tire, but that didn’t stop Weston from driving forward. He maneuvered the cruiser so that the passenger’s side door was aligned with the steps and so that the cruiser was literally blocking the path of the gunman’s shots.

  Weston threw open the passenger’s side door for her. “Get in.”

  Addie moved as fast as she could, scurrying across the seat toward Weston. The gunman adjusted his shots, trying to shoot out the window. The glass webbed but thankfully held.

  Weston threw the cruiser into reverse, backed up and maneuvered it again so that it was closer to Jericho. More shots came, some of them slicing across the porch. Her brother hurried down the steps and jumped into the front seat with them.

  “I’ll move into position so that Daisy and Mack can get in the backseat,” Weston said.

  And he had already started to do that when the shots stopped. They didn’t just trail off, either. They stopped completely. It didn’t take Addie long to figure out why. She saw the man running from the back of the barn.

  “Hell, no,” Weston grumbled. “He’s not getting away. Stay with Addie,” he added to Jericho.

  Addie reached for him, but she wasn’t nearly as fast as Weston was. He bolted from the cruiser and took off after the gunman.

  It was a footrace now, and the shooter had a big head start on Weston. Plus, at any moment the man could turn around and fire. There weren’t a lot of places that Weston could use for cover. Of course, Weston could fire, too, but they needed this man alive so he could tell them what the heck was going on.

  “Go help Weston,” she said to Jericho.

  Her brother shook his head. “This could be a trap. There could be another gunman out here, waiting to get you alone.”

  Oh, God. She hadn’t even considered that, but it was true. This was the second attempt to kill her, and it was obvious that whoever was behind this would do pretty much anything to make sure she was dead.