by Kathy Herman
“I know. I’m sorry. Romo didn’t want anyone to know until they had the bounty hunter in custody. The whole operation was based on his believing she was alive and that Hawk knew where she was.”
“Did he tell you how she died?”
“No, he didn’t,” Virgil said. “It’s classified.”
“So no one knows who kidnapped her?”
“He didn’t say. I think we’d all like to know. But it could be for the best that we don’t.”
Kate sighed. “What about Brody’s death? Are you going to investigate it now?”
“Several FBI special agents were assigned to investigate while the covert operation was going on. I was told the skid marks indicated only one car—Brody’s. There’s no evidence of foul play.”
“But what about Brody’s claim that he was being followed? Everything else he said made sense. Why would that be any different?”
“Kate, the young man had mental issues. The stress of seeing the drone attack and kidnapping could easily have triggered enough anxiety to make him think he was being followed. And make him restless so he couldn’t sleep. It’s certainly possible he got up around ten o’clock the night of the accident and just went for a drive and took a curve too fast.”
“Do you really believe that?” Kate said.
“I believe that the science shows only one set of skid marks. Beyond that, I can only speculate.”
Kate laughed. “Since when? Your hunches are almost always right. What’s your hunch?”
“Honestly, I haven’t had any mental time to give to it,” Virgil said. “The FBI has one of the best labs in the world. They said there was no evidence of foul play. They were sure enough that they told Brody’s parents, who were immensely relieved.”
“What about Dennis? Is he buying it?”
“I haven’t talked to him. Kate, there is no case anymore. The FBI told me that the men who kidnapped Kennedy were professionals and didn’t leave a speck of evidence. They checked out Kennedy’s house. It was wiped clean with bleach. They interviewed the people at the realty company that listed her house. It is owned by the FAMPRO Corporation out of Little Rock, which is what they told Hawk. They said the house has been vacant since it was listed last fall. FAMPRO had been using it as a perk for their executives to enjoy a weekend getaway, and decided to sell it and buy something closer to Little Rock. And the FBI found nothing suspicious about Brody’s death.”
“Good heavens, Virgil. When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I didn’t find out until this afternoon when I went back to the office, but Kevin has been working with the FBI on the case. There’s just nothing there for us to justify using the manpower to investigate what’s already been investigated.”
“You don’t find it odd that the realty company told the FBI that the house had been vacant since last fall, when we know Kennedy had lived there for at least six weeks?”
“Of course I do,” Virgil said. “But the FBI also checked the post office, and they didn’t show Kennedy Taylor getting mail delivered there. Or any bank in Foggy Ridge that had an account under that name.”
“Maybe she used another name.”
“Maybe she did, Kate. But there’s no way to know that. It’s as if she never existed.”
“Hawk is going to be disappointed.”
“Maybe not,” Virgil said. “He’s known since Wednesday that Kennedy’s dead. It’s the FBI’s case, not mine. It’s better not to step on their toes, especially when they have been forthcoming with their findings.”
Kate sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“On a lighter note, is Hawk still up? I’d like to speak with him for a minute.”
“Sure, I’ll walk the phone into the kitchen. I think he and Jesse are eating the last of tonight’s cheesecake.”
“Riley’s coming home from camp tomorrow, isn’t she?”
“Yes, and I can hardly wait. I’ll talk to you soon. Hawk, Virgil would like to speak to you for a minute. Here, just use my phone …”
“Hello, Sheriff.”
“How’re you holding up, Hawk? You’ve had quite a week.”
“I’m all right. I think I’m feeling the letdown after the hype. It’s a lot to take in. I hope now that it’s over, I’ll be able to get Kennedy off my mind.”
“Give it time,” Virgil said. “I think we men want everything that hurts to go away too quickly. I think pain is supposed to be a symptom of something that needs to be treated. Whether it’s the physical variety or an aching heart.”
“I don’t think there’s an effective treatment for an aching heart.”
“Time,” Virgil said.
“I’m not sure even time will be enough for this ache. What I need are answers. And there aren’t any.”
“I know, Hawk. I’m sorry. I was proud of the way you handled yourself throughout this ordeal. Romo hit you with Kennedy’s death right off the bat, and yet you stepped up, put your feelings on hold, and did what you had to do. You deserve a little time to be alone with the pain. The one thing I can promise you is that it won’t hurt like this forever. It does get better.”
“That’s what I hear,” Hawk said. “By the way, thanks again for letting Deputy Duncan stay at Angel View and keep an eye on things for you. Now that it’s over, I realize that part of the reason I stayed focused was because I saw him hanging out around the lodge and knew that he and you were in touch.”
“Thanks, Hawk. I care a lot about you and your family. I wasn’t about to be shut out on my own turf. It worked out. And Romo turned out to be a nice guy after all.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“Well, I’ll let you go. Get some rest. Be good to yourself.”
“I will. Good night, Sheriff.”
Virgil disconnected the call and just listened to the silence. His body was tired, but he would have to wind down before he went home.
He knew Kate was expecting him to find out the answers to all her questions. What she would have to accept is that all of them were classified. Romo had taken a big risk letting Virgil see the video, which confirmed most of what Mitch had revealed in secret. Virgil could not, in good conscience, pursue any unanswered questions. He already knew far more than he should and would never expose any information they trusted him to withhold.
Virgil felt bad for Hawk. What a whirlwind of emotions that young man had been caught up in this past week. Virgil knew Hawk was hurting more than he let on, and hoped that, in time, he would accept Kennedy’s death and move on.
t
Hawk sat in the living room, telling and retelling snippets of the past week’s saga—in no particular order. Jesse had reluctantly gone to bed after falling asleep twice, but the others were wide eyed and all ears.
Hawk finally slouched in his chair. “I’m talked out. My brain is fried.”
“I’m surprised you lasted this long,” Kate said. “I think I’ve aged ten years, realizing what you’ve been through.”
Abby sat on the couch, holding hands with Jay. “We didn’t mean to keep you so late, but Riley will be home tomorrow and we really can’t talk about this when she’s around.”
Elliot nodded. “That’s for sure.”
Grandpa Buck groaned as he rose to his feet. “Well, it’s already the Lord’s Day. And if I’m going to be fit for church, I best get some shut-eye.” He walked over to Hawk and patted the top of his head. “You’re a hero in my book. Get some sleep.”
Kate and Elliot said their good nights and went to their room.
Hawk got up and stretched. “See you two tomorrow.”
“I should go.” Jay rose to his feet.
Hawk smiled and pushed him back on the couch. “Not so fast, Romeo. The lady wants a proper good-night kiss.”
Abby’s face was pinker than her sundress.
Jay laug
hed. “Look at you.”
Hawk turned around and walked toward the stairs. “Good night, lovebirds.” He walked up the steps, his heart heavier than it had been all week. He guessed he was finally feeling the full force of his losses.
Hawk opened the door to his room and closed it behind him, careful not to wake Jesse. He turned around and was stopped abruptly by something pressed against his chest.
“Do not move, or you will die.” The intruder’s voice was deep. He spoke with an accent.
“Jesse, are you okay?” Hawk felt as if his heart had fallen down an elevator shaft.
The man turned on a flashlight and shone it on Jesse. He was bound and gagged.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Hawk said. Had they gotten the wrong man? Could this be the bounty hunter? Terror seized him.
“I am Reza Turan. You will come with me. And we will talk.”
He turned Hawk around and shoved him toward the window, which was open.
“It’s too far to jump,” Hawk said. “We’ll break our legs.”
“I attached metal steps for you.” Reza shined the light on what appeared to be a portable fire escape ladder. “First, you go.”
Hawk turned around and gingerly stepped down until he felt a thin metal step securely under his foot, and then with the other foot, stepped down on the metal step below it. He couldn’t see anything, but he was able to feel the steps and descend slowly, one foot at a time. He planned to grab Reza from behind and get the gun away from him as soon as he reached the bottom.
Hawk sensed something moving on his left. He reached out and groped the air, grabbing on to what felt like taut cloth. He heard a loud thud below, just as the cloth went limp.
“Reza?” Hawk said.
“I am down here. Why do you take so long?”
Hawk kept descending until he had both feet on the ground. “I thought you were above me on the ladder.”
Reza laughed. “I am not stupid. I brought rope made with torn sheets. I go down faster. And you do not have the chance to take my gun.”
“What now?” Hawk’s voice was shaking. He knew full well that, this time, no special agents had his back. If this was the bounty hunter, he was a dead man.
“Now you come with me. We will talk. And if you do not talk, you will die.”
Chapter 30
Hawk sat tied to a kitchen chair in an abandoned log cabin not far from Angel View. Reza had parked his truck down the road from the lodge and had forced Hawk at gunpoint to walk with him to the truck, and then to drive up here.
Reza set the flashlight on the table so that the beam of light was pointed toward the ceiling and lit the room. The place had to be a hundred years old. It was hard to tell how long it had been since anyone had stayed there. Thick dust covered the table and chairs. Ornately spun cobwebs connected the stove and sink. And the charred smell from the fireplace permeated the humid night air.
Reza raised a window halfway, but it seemed to be stuck. He brushed his hands together, then breezed past Hawk, pushed open the screen door, and walked out to his truck. He came back with a roll of paper towels, a bottle of cleaner, and a whisk broom.
He brushed the dust off the table with the whisk broom, sprayed cleaner on the tabletop, then wiped off the grime. He grabbed one of the chairs and brushed, sprayed, and wiped the seat and back. He repeated the process and seemed satisfied.
Reza took the gun out of his waistband and set it on the table, then pulled out the clean chair and turned it backward, straddled it, and sat with his arms resting on the back. “Okay. Now we will talk.”
Hawk nodded.
“Where is Abrisham?” Reza said.
“Who?”
“Abrisham,” he said. “Don’t pretend you don’t know her. Where is she?”
Hawk’s heart pounded so hard he could hardly breathe. This had to be the bounty hunter. How could Romo have been so wrong? After all he had done to help the FBI, he was going to end up tortured and murdered after all. “I–I don’t know anyone with that name.”
“You do not lie to me! I know it was you. At her big beautiful house up there on the mountain.”
All Hawk could think to do was stall the inevitable. “I don’t know anyone named … whatever name you said. I swear.”
“I said Ab-Ree-Shum. You know her. You lie badly. You own a Jeep? With a gold cross hanging from the rearview mirror? Arkansas license plate HAWKTOURS?”
“Yes. But I don’t know any woman by the name you said.”
“I see.” Reza’s tone was mocking. “So it is your little brother who is the lady’s man. He stole your keys and drove your Jeep. Maybe I should go back and punish him?”
“What is it you want from me?”
Reza got up from his chair and shoved it with his foot. “The truth!” He reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and held up a picture. “You know her. Say it.”
Hawk’s heart sank. “I knew her by the name Kennedy Taylor.”
Reza shook his head. “No. Her name is Abrisham Kermani.”
“She told me it was Kennedy Taylor.”
“Why would she lie? Maybe you are the one who is lying.” Reza grabbed the gun, cocked it, and pressed the barrel to Hawk’s forehead.
“I’m telling the truth, I swear,” Hawk said, perspiration dripping down his temples. “I met her less than two months ago in the parking lot of a grocery store. The bottom had fallen out of her sack and groceries were all over the ground. I helped her pick them up. She told me her name was Kennedy Taylor, that she was new here and hadn’t made any friends yet. She seemed very nice and a little lonely, so I asked her if she would like to ride in my Jeep sometime.”
“I don’t believe you,” Reza said.
“I’m telling the truth. I did take her on a Jeep ride and we became friends. She told me she inherited a fortune from her parents. That they were both dead. That she came here to start a new life.”
Reza put the gun on the table and straddled the chair again, his arms folded on the back. “She lied to you.”
“How do you know that?” Who are you? You’re not the bounty hunter.
“Because I met her when she was a senior at Baumar International Girls School in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I was a freshman at MIT. Her mother and father owned a restaurant in Budapest but let her attend Baumar because she had an aunt and uncle in Cambridge who promised to look out for her. We fell in love. She promised to marry me.”
“Why didn’t she?”
Reza rested his chin on his arms and seemed miles away. “She was everything to me. Her name, Abrisham, is Persian. It means ‘silk.’ Her parents gave her this name because she had a head full of dark, silky hair when she was born.” Reza lifted his gaze and looked at Hawk. “We were both proud to be Persian. I think that is what drew us together. She had met my parents, who loved her. She did not want me to meet her aunt and uncle. Because of 9/11, they forbade her to make any reference to her Persian heritage. They said it was irrelevant, that she was American. I was so honored when she told me her parents were coming to America that summer and wanted to meet me.”
“So did you meet them?” Hawk said.
Reza shook his head. “No. Sadly. Abrisham stopped taking my calls. I finally went to her aunt and uncle and they told me she did not love me or want to marry me, that she was too kind to face me. They were lying. I could tell. But I knew the truth of our love, and I begged them not to keep us apart. They threatened to take out a restraining order if I did not leave them alone. What could I do?”
“Why are you here?” Hawk said. “That was five years ago.”
“I will tell you. I got a phone call last week. It was a man’s voice. He spoke to me in Farsi. He said he was a friend of Abrisham’s father, Dalir, and he knew where Abrisham was living. He said it was not her choice to leave Cambridge five years ago, that not
even her aunt and uncle knew where she was, and she very much would like to see me and explain everything. He gave me her address and said if I wanted to see her, I should go right away and tell no one. Of course, I was shocked. I had no idea if this stranger was telling me the truth. But I thought it over. I still loved her. I had to take a chance.”
“So you came here looking for her?”
“Yes.” Reza sat up straight. “After many hours of driving, I arrived at her home around ten Friday morning, anticipating that Abrisham would be overjoyed to see me and would greet me with warmth and affection. When I rang her doorbell, holding a dozen fragrant red roses, my heart was going crazy, like old times. When the door finally opened, her beauty took my breath away.”
Hawk wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any more. He had no right to feel jealous, but he did.
“And you know what she said to me? The one she had loved, the one she promised to marry? She drew in a breath and put her hands on her heart and said, ‘You must be from Foggy Ridge Floral. And those beautiful roses can only be from my beloved Hawk.’ I said, ‘No, Abrisham, they are from me, Reza. Do you not recognize the man you promised to marry?’”
“Good grief. How did she answer?” Hawk didn’t know who he felt sorrier for, Abrisham or Reza.
“I don’t think she had even looked at me until then,” Reza said. “She got this horrified, broken expression on her face, like she knew I had discovered something shameful she did not want me to know. But I knew. Right then. She had given herself to you. That she loved you.” Reza turned his head and looked into Hawk’s eyes. He picked up the gun and held it in his hands. “So I asked myself. Who is this friend of Dalir Kermani that he sent me here to break my heart all over again? I rack my brain, but I do not know. Who does something this cruel?”
“I’m so sorry,” Hawk said. “I can’t imagine. Abrisham never talked about herself. I never knew she had been engaged. I didn’t even know her real name. To me, she was Kennedy Taylor.”