Calculated Revenge

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Calculated Revenge Page 9

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson


  Laney’s father headed for the door. Murmured voices, Roland’s and an unknown female’s, carried to Noah’s ears. A few seconds later, Roland appeared with a stocky woman beside him. Noah recognized the law enforcement prowl in her walk and the sweep of her eyes across the room, taking in every detail. She was likely on Laney and Briana’s Louisville watch detail. But why had she blown cover to waltz through the front door?

  The woman flashed an FBI badge, confirming Noah’s assumption. “I’m here to inform you that an arrest has been made in your case.”

  A soft cry came from Loretta, while Laney gripped the edge of the table. “Who?” she burst out.

  “Edward Foreman.”

  Noah’s heart skipped a beat, and then he frowned. “On what grounds?” The evidence had to be substantial in order to make an actual arrest.

  “I’m not at liberty to tell you that, sir. Would you be Noah Franklin Ryder?”

  “Guilty.” He lifted a palm.

  An almost-smile flickered at the corners of the agent’s mouth. “I have a message for you from Supervisory Special Agent Burns.”

  Noah snorted. “I can about guess what that is.”

  The agent’s lips curved up another millimeter. “He says to go back to the day job. The professionals have done their work.”

  “And you can tell him—” Noah stopped himself from questioning the arrest. “Never mind.”

  He wasn’t about to rain on the parade of relieved grins from Roland, Loretta and Laney. But until he knew what evidence they were charging Eddie on, he wouldn’t be convinced they had the right man. Granted, he had his own doubts about the playground skulker, but a solid case should take longer than this to build.

  Roland escorted the agent out while Laney and her mother grabbed each other and wept. Noah studied his cooling eggs.

  Laney’s father returned to the table, rubbing his hands together and beaming. “Looks like we won’t need to disrupt your life any further, Noah. We appreciate your willingness to help us out and the care you’ve taken of Laney and the little Bree-bee.” He slapped Noah on the back.

  Noah rose and shook the man’s hand, forcing a smile onto his face. “I hope this is the closure your family needs.”

  Laney came around the table and touched his arm. Her cheeks glistened with happy tears, but her gaze telegraphed concern. “You look more troubled than happy.”

  He sighed. “I have a lot of questions—”

  “Oh, me, too!” Laney twirled in a little dance across the tile floor, and Noah’s pulse leaped at her unconscious grace. “Simply to know Gracie’s killer is finally in custody and Briana is safe means everything! I can get my hundred and one questions answered later.”

  “At least let me make a phone call to Hank and see if he has an inkling what hard evidence brought about the arrest.”

  “Please do.” Loretta gripped the back of her chair. “We’d all like to know.”

  Noah took out his cell phone and went into the living room. A few minutes later, he returned to the kitchen. The family had gone back to their seats, but it looked as if the excitement had stolen their appetites. Their plates remained full. Hopeful faces turned toward him.

  He awarded them a nod and a smile. “Hank has his own resources for finding out what’s going on with the feds, and the collar looks good to him. Traces of Eddie’s blood were found on the backpack, and a personal history check shows he had a route delivering office supplies that covered southeastern Minnesota at the time of Grace’s abduction.”

  Laney slumped and lowered her forehead to the table, weeping again. “Thank you, Lord Jesus,” she breathed.

  “Hallelujah!” Loretta clapped her hands.

  Roland grinned bigger than the Cheshire cat. “I guess you’ve got no reason to travel to Grand Valley now. You can head straight for home once you reach Minneapolis.” He looked at his watch. “We’d better get a move on if you’re going to catch your flight.”

  “Oh, dear.” Loretta stood, and Laney with her. “I’m sorry you didn’t get breakfast.”

  “No problem.” Noah waved a hand. “I’ll grab something at the airport.”

  Laney glided toward him and stopped close enough for her fresh scent to wrap around his senses. “Thank you.”

  The depth of gratitude in her gaze for the nothing he had done humbled Noah’s soul. “I’m very happy for you. Will I see you in the fall?”

  She laughed. “Only if you put in that recommendation for me to the school board.”

  “Consider it a done deal.” He grinned down at her, then followed Roland toward the door. His smile faded. Should he get their hopes up by telling them the bonus information Hank shared with him? Maybe it would be best if he told Laney’s father only and let him make the call of what to say to his wife and daughter.

  They got on the road, and Roland drove intently and quickly. Laney’s father must be itching to get back to his family for a personal time of rejoicing. Running a guest to the airport was a necessary inconvenience. Maybe soon they’d have something more to celebrate.

  “I didn’t want to say anything too soon,” Noah began, “but Hank had more to tell.”

  Roland glanced at Noah, and the car’s speed slackened. “Good news? Bad news?”

  “The dirt on the backpack was consistent with the soil found in the Grand Valley area. The FBI is cautiously optimistic that when this guy confesses, he’ll be able to point them to a grave site near where you used to live.”

  Roland pumped a fist. “Finally we can put Gracie properly to rest!”

  Noah looked out the side window at glistening hotels and office complexes whisking past. He’d wanted to say “if” the guy confesses. If only Noah could feel as confident as everyone else that the case was closed. Edward Foreman was a stranger to the Thompsons, as was true in many pedophile abduction situations. He would have no personal ties to the family that would create rage in his mind. Why then had the taunts toward Laney been so calculated and vicious?

  After church followed by a meal out, Laney walked into the house, yawning. Exhaustion had closed in—partly from poor sleep for many days, and partly as a backlash from euphoria.

  Her mother laughed. Laney hadn’t seen her mom so bright and cheerful in years. The woman practically glowed. “You lie down and take a nap, dear. Your dad and I will keep both sets of eyes on the little Bree-bee.”

  Her father seconded the motion. He’d joined them at church barely in time for service to start. He swung Briana’s hand in his. “How about we go to the zoo and let your mommy sleep?”

  She hopped up and down. “Monkeys. I want to see the monkeys.”

  “The ape exhibit can be our first stop.” He tapped the end of his granddaughter’s nose.

  “You mind Grandma and Grandpa now,” Laney admonished, shaking her head. Children were so resilient. Her daughter had casually received the information that the bad man had been caught, but she’d pouted about Noah leaving. Now she was excited.

  Eyelids drooping, Laney wandered into the bedroom and curled up under a light blanket in the air-conditioned coolness. Her groggy thoughts drifted to Noah. He’d be in the air now, traveling away from her. If only he’d shown half a moment’s interest in staying for a visit. Her folks would have welcomed him, and in a relaxed social setting, maybe she would have stood a chance of catching his interest as more than a colleague or a client.

  Ever on the lookout for husband material for her daughter, Mom had read too much into Noah’s promise of a recommendation to the school board. “That man wants to keep you around,” she had said with a knowing nod right before church service got under way. “Of course, he does,” Laney’d whispered back. “Special education teachers aren’t easy to come by.” Mom slanted her an amused look. “There are none so blind as those who will not see.” Then the worship team moved into the opening song, and the subject was dropped.

  Laney prayed that by some miracle her mother was right about Noah, and that Noah was wrong in his reservations ab
out Edward Foreman’s guilt. She could tell he still wasn’t satisfied about that when he left. Foreman had to be guilty. A stranger abduction made perfect sense. Couldn’t Noah see that? This nightmare needed to be over. Please, God!

  Her consciousness faded with her prayer. The next thing she knew, she opened her eyes, and the bedside clock said three thirty-two. She’d slept for two glorious, refreshing hours. She sat up and stretched her arms. Stone silence in the house indicated that her parents and Briana lingered at the zoo. Wouldn’t it be nice if she had a yummy supper prepared when they got home?

  Energized, Laney hopped out of bed. She placed a quick call to her dad’s cell phone. He answered on the third ring and assured her Briana was having the time of her life and never out of their sight. Laney bit her lip. The hard lesson learned with Gracie would never fade, even though her killer was in custody.

  “Tell Mom not to worry about supper. I’m on my way to the store for taco fixings.”

  Dad chuckled. “Bree’s going to think it’s her birthday. The zoo and now tacos.”

  Laney gave an answering laugh. “I’ve got a good guess where she gets her taste buds. Sometimes I think you should have been born south of the border.”

  They ended the call. Laney ran a comb through her hair and brushed her teeth, and then grabbed her purse and the keys to her mom’s car from the hook in the laundry room. An hour later, she pulled back into the driveway of her parents’ home with two sacks of groceries sitting next to her in the passenger seat.

  She mashed the button on the automatic garage door opener, but got no response. She tried again, and the door still didn’t budge. Oh, bother! The batteries were probably dead. Good thing the ring for the car keys also held a house key. She shut the vehicle off and went around to the passenger side to collect her groceries.

  As she leaned in to grab them, a soft shuffling sound carried to her from behind. She stiffened and began to turn. A hard object crashed into the back of her head, and bright sunshine faded to twilight as she folded to the pavement. A torn tennis shoe swam into view. Then darkness owned her.

  TEN

  The hum of tires against the pavement and mellow classic rock turned low on the radio kept Noah company on the road between Minneapolis and Cottonwood Grove. He should have chosen a blues station to reflect his mood. As much as he’d resisted taking another missing person’s case, he’d begun to taste the thrill of the hunt. A shameful, selfish little gremlin on the inside felt cheated of the catch.

  Worse, Laney and Briana were out of this life—at least for the summer. There was no guarantee they would return to Cottonwood Grove in the fall. With Laney’s parents living in Louisville, it would be easy for her to decide to take a job in that area.

  Driving through one of the myriad small towns along Highway 55, his cell phone rang. He turned off into a convenience store parking lot and answered.

  “This is Roland Thompson,” said the voice at the other end.

  The gravity in the man’s tone sat Noah to attention. “What’s up?”

  “Laney’s been attacked.”

  Bile scorched the back of Noah’s throat. He swallowed. “Is she all right?”

  “We’re at the hospital with her now. She’s got a concussion, and they’re admitting her overnight for observation—over her protests, I might add.” Roland heaved a harsh breath. “Her memory is pretty fuzzy, but she thinks somebody came up behind her in our driveway and clubbed her over the head. We believe—” The man’s voice broke. “We believe that’s all that happened, but they’re checking her out more thoroughly.”

  White heat flashed through Noah. “I’m turning around. I’ll catch the first flight.” He shot out of the parking lot. Somebody was going to answer for this.

  “Thank you.” The words came out laden with emotion. “We don’t have the right guy behind bars yet, do we.” The sentence was a statement, not a question.

  “It would appear not.” Noah pressed the gas pedal until his speed hovered on the edge of demanding a cop’s attention. “Have you notified the FBI?”

  “There’s an agent here breathing fire down our necks to talk to her, but the doc hasn’t let him in yet.”

  “I’ll call Sheriff Lindoll in Cottonwood Grove and see if he can get a feel for what’s happening in the Minneapolis office as a result of this development.”

  “Thanks again, Noah. A boulder just rolled off my chest, knowing you’re back on the case. Laney will be happy to see you, too.” The tone held a sly note.

  What was Laney’s father trying to tell him?

  “My wife’s pretty sharp about these things, and she insists you care for my daughter,” Roland added. “Is she right?” The point-blank question said the man would stand for no evasion.

  So that was it. Noah might as well own up. “Yes, sir, I do. But I don’t plan to let personal feelings affect how I handle this matter.”

  “See that you don’t. Let it ride…for now.”

  Hope skimmed Noah’s consciousness. Was the man hinting his daughter might return the interest? Laney had always been reserved and professional around him. And then there was Pierce vying for her affection, and she wasn’t exactly pushing him away.

  “Expect me this evening,” he told Roland, and they ended the call.

  Noah punched in the auto dial for Hank. Good thing he’d programmed that number in before he left home.

  “We’ve got trouble,” Hank greeted him.

  “You know already?”

  “What are you talking about? You can’t possibly know what I know.”

  Noah took a deep breath. “Let’s start this conversation over. Laney was struck from behind outside her parents’ home, and she’s in the hospital. Is that the trouble you mean?”

  Hank let out a low whistle. “No, it sure isn’t. She all right?”

  “Concussion. They’re checking her out at the hospital now.”

  “Someone popping Laney makes my information even more vital.”

  Noah’s hands strangled the steering wheel. “What bomb are you sitting on, Lindoll?”

  “Your school custodian has disappeared. Miss Aggie phoned me about a couple hours ago when he didn’t answer an emergency call about what could be a burst pipe in the school building. It’s a regular flood, pouring out the doors onto the sidewalks. That’s how some neighbors noticed it on a Sunday and all.”

  Noah groaned. Great! A crisis at the school, too. “Maybe Richard’s out of town for the weekend.”

  “That’s what I thought at first, but I got curious, so I drove to that farm place he rents outside of town.” Hank’s desk chair creaked in the background. “The door to the house was standing wide open. Everything’s gone—personal effects, furniture, the little horse trailer he used when he moved his stuff in, the whole nine yards. I hate to tell you, but your custodian has moved on without notice.”

  Noah scratched behind his ear with his thumb as he held the phone. “Maybe the landlord knows where he went.”

  “Ahead of you there.” The sheriff gave a dry chuckle. “He had no idea the guy was moving out and stiffing him for a month’s rent, much less where his tenant was headed.”

  Noah’s gut clenched. “Maybe Louisville, Kentucky.”

  “I’ve got an APB out on his vehicle, as well as a request for the Minneapolis PD to check the airport lots.”

  Noah nodded, though he realized the other man couldn’t see him. “Have you tapped your source in the federal office to see what they’re thinking about Edward Foreman now that Laney’s been attacked while he’s in custody? The guy’s blood on the backpack begs an explanation.”

  Hank’s chair creaked. “I’d give a lot to know what Foreman says about how that blood got there, if he’s innocent the way they all say.”

  “Could there be conspirators?” Noah burst out with the first thing that came to his head. “But then,” he added, as arguments against the theory rushed him, “pedophiles don’t normally work together. If we’re actually dealing with tha
t sort of monster. I’ve been toying with other ideas—like a vendetta against the Thompson family. But why has there been an eighteen-year span of time between attacks?”

  Hank grunted. “I’m leaning toward the lone pedophile angle. Maybe the perp socked Laney over the head to get her out of the way, thinking her daughter was in the car.”

  Noah’s brows lifted. “That’s a good theory. I may know more when I talk to Laney.”

  “And I’ll get what I can out of the feds.”

  “I’m on my way back to Louisville. If that’s where our perp is, that’s where I need to be, flooded school or not. I’ll have to call Miss Aggie for an update on that end.”

  “You do that.” Hank chuckled. “Chances are she gave that flood water one of her looks, and it hightailed straight back into the pipe it came from.”

  Noah spurted a laugh. “That wouldn’t surprise me.”

  He hung up with Hank and got on the phone to the school office. If he guessed correctly, that’s where he’d find his ever-capable assistant. She answered on the second ring.

  “Are you up to your neck in alligators?” Noah asked her.

  “Hah!” she barked. “That’s about the only thing we don’t have around here, what with the plumber, the insurance adjuster and the clean-up crew.”

  “How bad is the damage?” He passed a sign that said he was nearing Minneapolis. He’d be back at the airport in about forty-five minutes, barring traffic issues.

  “The adjuster hasn’t said yet. At minimum we’ll need a new gym floor, as well as some sheet rocking where water soaked up the sides of the walls.”

  Noah shook his head. “For the water to have saturated that much, the pipe must have burst shortly after we locked up the building on Friday.”

 

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