Twilight Warrior

by Aimée Thurlo

  “I don’t know how much access our department will have to the suspects, but feel free to ask Kincaid to get you whatever information you need. The fact that this went down on our turf should cut us some slack.”

  “We need to know if the numbers on their stock of ether seemed doctored in any way,” Travis said. “If we can find the source of the killer’s supply, it could break this case wide-open.”

  Koval walked away. Laura waited until he was completely out of earshot, then reached for her phone. Before flipping it open, she looked directly at Travis. “We both know that the feds don’t do anything fast, and going through channels could take forever. This is your turf, but if you let me, I can speed things up. My boss, Charles Westin, has a lot of clout, and his support can cut through a lot of red tape. I could give him a call. With his help, we could have top-notch forensics computer analysts look at those files and get us the information we need quickly.”

  As Travis looked into her eyes, he saw respect for the badge he wore as well as for him as a man. That knowledge touched him deeply. Needing no consent from either of them, their bond had deepened and there was no turning back the clock.

  Seeing that she was waiting for his answer, he nodded. “Go ahead. Make the call.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A half hour later they were sitting by Travis’s desk in the bullpen, waiting.

  “We’ll have our shot at the suspects,” she said, mostly to reassure herself.

  Before he could answer, Koval joined them. “Mr. and Mrs. Rice are one heckuva pair. Just as the feds suspected, they’ve been generating phony invoices using patient names selected from the phone book. It looks like they’ve defrauded Medicare and Medicaid of hundreds of thousands of dollars. Their tax returns are a joke, too, and that’s how they got caught. Apparently some of their deductions sent up flags over at the IRS.” He paused then added, “You can do a lot of things in this country, but if you take on the IRS, you’ll lose.”

  “The IRS got Capone when no one else could,” she said, nodding. “But I doubt the Rices are involved in the murders. They aren’t the kind of crimes carried out by a couple, and Mr. Rice certainly doesn’t fit the physical description of our suspect. I just wish we could get a list of the people they’ve supplied with ether.”

  Koval handed Laura a manila envelope. “Here’s a printout of those sales. The bureau was asked to give our department a hard copy. It covers everything from dentists to small clinics in our area. There’s been no theft of ether reported by anyone on that list. But an hour ago we got a call from the free clinic. One of the nurses claims that someone’s been stealing painkillers and who knows what else. The contact’s name is Janet Carpenter. Why don’t you handle the call?”

  As Koval walked away, Laura studied the list. “The free clinic buys ether, too. Let’s go.”

  The drive was short, just a few blocks over. Keeping Crusher by his left side at heel, Travis led the way inside the facility, located in what had once been an elementary school. Ignoring the curious stares of waiting patients, he walked up to the receptionist and flashed his badge. “We need to talk to Janet Carpenter.”

  “Can I ask what this is in reference to?” the receptionist asked.

  “Missing medical supplies,” Travis answered.

  Laura caught a flicker of movement to her right. A woman in health-worker scrubs seated at a computer farther down the counter stood, then approached a man at another terminal. A second later, looking furtively behind them, they stepped out from behind the counter and hurried down the hall toward the rear entrance.

  “Stop right where you are,” Laura said crisply, walking quickly after the duo.

  The woman grabbed a wheeled cart, shoved it at Laura, then she and her companion made a break for the door.

  Laura hugged the wall and the cart shot past her.

  The man, who’d reached the door first, pushed frantically but it didn’t open. “It’s locked!”

  Though Travis was running toward them, Laura caught up to the woman first. Twisting her arm behind her back, she pushed her against the wall and held her there. Then a flash of movement to her side caught her attention. Seeing the man reach into his pocket and whirl toward Travis, Laura reacted instinctively. She released her hold on the woman and hurled herself at the man, tackling him to the floor.

  Crusher, barking furiously, shot down the hall along with Travis.

  “Guard,” Travis yelled, releasing him in front of the woman.

  Laura pinned the man to the floor. To her surprise, he quickly lost his strength, gasping for breath. She pulled him up roughly as Travis handcuffed the woman.

  “I need my inhaler,” the man said, wheezing. “In my pocket.”

  “Move slowly,” Laura said.

  A moment later he extracted what appeared to be an asthma inhaler and used it.

  “Why did you run?” Travis demanded.

  “That crazy woman came after us!” he said.

  “Nice try, Artie.” A young nurse came out of an examination room. “I see you’ve met Artie Hugo and Marta Lowell, detectives. They’re the people who’ve been ripping off our meds and supplies.”

  “You knew?” Artie said.

  “Shut up!” Marta bellowed, then cringed as Crusher inched closer to her, growling.

  “I’m Janet Carpenter. I was the one who reported the thefts,” she said. “I’ve been keeping my own log of supplies and they didn’t match Marta’s running inventory. She’s been having Artie tweak the computer records to cover whatever she was stealing.”

  Travis called for a squad car. As they waited in an empty office, he challenged Artie with a stony glare. “What did you do with the ether?”

  “The whaaa?”

  “The ether. Who did you sell it to?” Travis pressed.

  “I don’t know nuthin’ about that. Ether’s dangerous stuff, and Marta smokes. One open bottle and kaboom!”

  “A little cooperation now could go a long way for you in court,” Travis said, turning to Marta.

  “I wanna lawyer,” the woman grumbled.

  As two patrolmen came in, Travis gave them an almost imperceptible signal and they took the woman into custody first.

  As they led Marta outside, Travis focused on Artie. “They’ll be taking you out next, Artie. It’s your call, easy or hard. What’ll it be?”

  “Look, dude, I admit it. I deal painkillers on the street because I can’t make the rent with this crummy job,” Artie said. “But ether? Where’s the market for that? Not too many people out there are doing freelance surgery, you know? There’s a lot easier ways to set a fire, too.”

  Laura stood next to Travis as the suspect was taken away. “I hate to say this, but I don’t think he was lying.”

  Nurse Carpenter joined them. “I’ll check the rest of our inventory against the supplies on hand and let you know if anything else is missing.”

  “Pay particular attention to your supply of ether,” Laura said.

  “Okay, but I should tell you that we don’t use it much here.”

  Travis thanked her, then walked back outside, Laura on his right and Crusher at heel on his left. “Although it didn’t turn out to be a gun, you really had my back in there,” he said.

  “You’d have done the same for me,” she said softly.

  “Yes, I would have.” He said nothing else until they were inside the SUV. “As far back as high school, we’ve always been there for each other. Looks like nothing’s changed—well, almost.”

  She smiled at him. The deep timbre of his voice and the word almost sparked her senses.

  “Your friendship saw me through some really tough times,” she said. “No matter how crazy my life got, I could always count on you. You even stuck by me after that story got out that my mom had taken money from the cafeteria’s cash box. Our school ran on a real tight budget and everyone was furious with her—and me, by association.”

  “At least they didn’t file charges and gave her the chance to pay
the money back.”

  “We were lucky,” she said. “The school was trying to get some state grant money at the time and they didn’t want the story to make the papers. That’s why they let her keep her job until the end of the year,” she said in a barely audible voice. “But everyone avoided me after that. My best friend was supportive, but by then, her schedule was so filled with sports we barely saw each other. You were about the only friend I could talk to after that mess.”

  He covered her hand and squeezed it gently. “There’s one thing you never told me. Why did your mother steal the money?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out. “She didn’t—I did. And I paid it back. She took the blame to protect me.”

  He stared at her in surprise. “You never said a word.”

  “Would it have mattered?”

  “No. I would have known that you must have had a darned good reason for doing something like that,” Travis answered.

  She nodded slowly. “I did.” She took a deep breath. “Remember the big sack of groceries that turned up at your door one morning? I’d overheard you talking to your brother and found out you guys hadn’t eaten anything except oatmeal for three days, and that was running out. You wanted to try and go fishing, but it was spring, the river was too high and you couldn’t catch a ride to the lake at Big Gap.”

  “I should have known you’d had a hand in that. I was almost sure you’d overheard my brother and me talking but you never mentioned it. Then the groceries showed up. The timing was too perfect. I’d planned to talk to you the next day, but that was when the cash-box money was discovered missing and your mom was blamed for it. After that, I figured that it couldn’t have been you since you and your mom had needed cash, too,” Travis said. “But why didn’t you ever say anything to me? We could have paid you back later on.”

  “You needed every dime you could make and I knew I’d be able to put the cash back at the end of the week when I got paid. I’d always intended on replacing what I’d taken and leaving something extra to boot.”

  “My brother and I ate well for almost a month. By then, my uncle had sold some of his sheep and was in a position to help us again. Things worked out.”

  “For me, too. For a little while, my mom and I became closer. I was able to see just how much courage she really had, and I grew to understand her more. I’d always thought that her search for a husband who could provide for us came from cowardice. But I was wrong. It came from a sense of helplessness. She didn’t know any other way to turn her life around. Seeing each other clearly for the first time helped us get along better than we ever had before.”

  He said nothing for several moments. “No regrets?” he asked her at last.

  “None.”

  He smiled and, placing the key in the ignition, got under way. Once they were back on the road, Laura stretched in her seat. “Instead of going back to the station, can we call it quits for today? I’m beat. So much so, in fact, that I’m not sure I have the energy to switch locations tonight. How about if I spend one more night at the same motel, then switch again tomorrow?”

  “Sounds okay,” he said. “But Crusher’ll have to stay with you.”

  “No problem. I’ll even buy him dinner,” she said, glancing back at the dog, who gave her a tail wag and panting grin. “In fact, why don’t you let me order room service and we’ll all eat before you head back to the station? Paperwork is a lot easier on a full stomach.”

  “You’re on,” he said.

  They rode in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. The scent she wore was distinctive and elusive—the very qualities he would have used to describe her. Although he’d gone through most of his adult life exercising caution and control, something about Laura continually tempted him. Life had thrown a lot at her, but she’d turned out to be an amazing woman.

  He forced himself to focus on the case. “How far are you prepared to go to find this killer?”

  “As far as necessary. I’m willing to put my own life on the line to draw him out if that’s what it takes.”

  “Which is why you dyed your hair to match the victims? It used to be brown, not black.”

  “You remember, do you?” she noted with a tiny smile. “I know that this creep prefers dark hair and I was hoping to goad him into coming after me,” she said. “But I never expected that bomb. That wasn’t part of his M.O.”

  “He’s had time to figure out who you are and may realize you’re more of a threat than he’d originally thought,” Travis said. “You’re trained law enforcement.”

  “Had I known I’d be turning you into a target, I wouldn’t have come here.”

  “Hey, this is the kind of case I signed on for. It all comes under the job description—to protect and serve.”

  She nodded slowly. “It’s what we do best—put bad guys behind bars.”

  The determination he saw in her eyes told him that she shared his love for the work. “We’re two of a kind,” he said quietly. “Even way back when we never shied away from a challenge. Remember when we floated down the river in that silly boat we made in old man Begay’s workshop?”

  She laughed. “Floated? More like floundered. It went down like the Titanic the moment we hit that sandbar. I had to pull you out before you drowned. I didn’t realize you couldn’t swim.”

  “You were a better swimmer, but we would have frozen to death if we’d depended on you to build a fire to dry us off,” he answered, chuckling.

  “I gathered all the twigs and driftwood, but those sparks from the flint and your steel belt buckle just refused to catch. So much for science class.”

  “We had different strengths—then and now. Our greatest asset as partners is that we balance each other out.”

  “And balance is part of the hózhó.”

  He smiled. “There you go.”

  Travis pulled up to the motel a short time later. As they entered the main lobby, Crusher at heel, they both heard Laura’s name mentioned on the TV in the restaurant bar just to their left.

  They stopped to listen and saw Barbara Malloy, the local station’s crime reporter, on screen. Malloy was announcing that the mayor had given Laura, an NSI employee, permission to ride with Travis Blacksheep, one of the city’s lead detectives. Barbara showed their photos, then went on to reveal what she’d learned about their investigation and the similarities between the murders committed in the Four Corners area. The bombshell came last. Malloy concluded her report dramatically by raising the possibility that there was a serial killer active in their area.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Laura muttered as the bar patrons turned to look at them instead of focusing on the rest of the broadcast. “With my face all over the news, I’m going to flag all but the blind,” she said as she strode down the hall. “I need to change my appearance. The fastest way to do that is to dye my hair and cut it short.”

  “Go back to your natural color,” Travis said. “It fits you better anyway.”

  “What do you say we skip a sit-down dinner?” she said. “I want to pick up a few things at the drugstore down the street and change my looks as soon as possible.”

  “Go ahead. Crusher and I will pick up something to eat and meet you back here.”

  “Deal,” she said.

  They headed back out to the parking lot. As Travis went directly to his SUV with Crusher, she walked toward her sedan, parked away from the street.

  Laura stopped by the driver’s side door and was fumbling for the key when a masked figure suddenly rose up from behind the front end of the car.

  The man came at her instantly. Launching his entire body forward, he threw a punch aimed at her face, his own chin tucked down to protect him from a counterstrike.

  Instinctively she copied his move, but bent her knees and took a step out, crouching and aiming for his midsection with her left fist.

  His punch brushed her left ear, but she made full contact, his own forward motion contributing to the force of her strike. Groaning,
he collected himself and launched a roundhouse, his right hand protecting his face as his left arm swung around.

  Laura had brought her right arm up to protect her face and it took the blow from the punch. Though partially deflected, its force still rocked her.

  She bent back and blocked a follow-up punch with both her wrists and forearms. The impact knocked her back another step. When he came at her again, she kicked up with her left foot. She caught him on his left thigh, just west of his groin, her intended target.

  There was no doubt in Laura’s mind that the man wearing the nylon-stocking mask was an experienced fighter. She had better visibility than her opponent but he was stronger and had a longer reach, and he was using both to wear her down.

  One thing was in her favor. Although she was trapped between two parked cars with no room to maneuver, that also meant he had to come straight at her.

  His quick left jab was predictable. She counterpunched with her right, deflecting the blow. He’d kept his head low, buried into his shoulder, but she still made solid contact with his forehead. She felt the impact all the way to her elbow and knew she’d rocked him hard. Yet her opponent still managed to recover quickly.

  Stepping back, he yanked something from his jacket pocket.

  At that instant a massive furry object flew past her. Crusher caught the man’s right sleeve, spinning him around. A canister of Mace flew out of his hand and bounced off the side of the adjacent car.

  Before Crusher could make another attempt to grab his arm, the man dived across the hood of her car to the other side. Travis raced up, but there was a vehicle between them and their assailant.

  Laura suddenly saw the man raise a nickel-plated revolver and point it directly at them. “Gun!” she yelled and dived to the pavement just as he snapped off a shot that whistled high.

  Crusher, snarling, tried to get at the shooter by squeezing through the gap between the bumper and thick hedge at the front of the car, but he couldn’t make any headway.

  Crouching, Travis and Laura grabbed their pistols and exchanged glances.

  “Now!” Travis said. They rose up together, weapons aimed.