by Ann Simas
She plugged Earl Boyson escape in to the search box. The first result was an article from The Coloradan, which detailed Boyson’s getaway. Several men, dressed in what one witness called “black Ninja garb,” had overtaken the two deputies transporting him to the courthouse, where he was to be sentenced for assaulting Sunshine Fyfe, blah, blah, blah.
Sunny didn’t bother reading the rest of the article. Being the victim, she knew the particulars first-hand, and she didn’t care to relive them, thank you.
She slumped back in the chair, thinking. Black ninja garb.
Her mind flashed to the kidnapping visions. In every single one, the perpetrators had been completely dressed in black, including black ski masks on their heads.
For a moment, her brain couldn’t process what her eyes had read.
When the truth hit her, it felt like a giant wrecking ball had crashed into her. It knocked the breath right out of her, leaving her doubled over and gasping for air.
Boyson and Vale Luna, working together. How could that be? And if he knew she was here at Still Waters, then Zach’s crazy family knew it, too.
But how had he tracked her to a place she hadn’t even told her family about?
That’s when it hit her that she’d mentioned the cabin once to Libby, on the day of Zach’s funeral. Did that mean that they’d taken Libby and forced the information out of her?
Dear lord, what was she going to do now, and was her sister still alive?
. . .
At the first rustling of a little body rising from sleep, Sunny put the safety back on her pistol and returned it to the holster, which she slid into a drawer in the table beside her bed. A glance at the clock told her that ninety-six minutes had passed since Carson and Maisie had gone down for their naps.
Ninety of those minutes had been the longest of her life. The good news was, she’d had time to devise another plan. The bad news was, she didn’t know when Boyson would be back.
One other problem nagged at her. There was no way in hell she’d be able to stay awake twenty-four hours a day watching for him.
Did she relocate to the safe room now?
Should she wait until she knew he was actually on the property again?
Would he do more surveillance, or would he ram the door?
Would he come alone, or would he have an accomplice?
She was beyond puzzled how he’d found her, but she couldn’t worry about that now, and for damned sure, she wasn’t going examine the possibility that Vale Luna had kidnapped Libby.
Neither one of her children were the type to wake up and jump right out of bed. Maisie was curled up into a ball when she entered the small bedroom. “Sweetie, are you okay?” she asked her daughter softly.
“I dweamed a bad man comed.” She frowned, tilting her head to the side. A moment later, her frightened gaze flew to the window. “He hutted oo.”
Sunny dropped to her knees beside the lower bunk and gathered a shaking Maisie into her arms.
As if she’d needed further confirmation that Boyson’s intentions were malevolent, her daughter’s dream provided it.
. . .
Trey burst through the front door, calling out, “Where are you?”
“Kitchen,” Luca hollered back.
A moment later, Trey entered the kitchen breathing like he’d run a marathon. His face was flushed, his expression grim.
“What’ve you got?” Luca asked. His partner hadn’t looked like this since the last big case they’d broken six months earlier.
“Zach Fyfe purchased land up the Poudre Canyon ten years ago, but there’s no record of him building a cabin on the property.”
“That agrees with the paperwork we found in Sunny’s files. The cabin was either already there or he built it without a permit.” He exchanged a look with his partner. “We need to take a drive up the canyon.”
“Here’s the thing,” Trey said. He unrolled a tube of white paper about eighteen inches square and weighted down two of the corners with salt and pepper shakers. “See this red line marking the parcels around Fyfe’s property?” He pointed to the lot in question, then looked up, scanning the group. “This land all belongs to Vale Luna.”
Stunned, Luca barked, “What? Vale Luna’s compound is up near Estes Park.”
“True enough,” Trey agreed, “but when I asked Records to do a title search using the names of the Vale Luna primaries, and the cult name itself, this is what came up.”
Bebe sank down into a chair, her eyes wide with fear. Harry leaned further in to get a better look at the plat map. “How could Zach have built the cabin without a permit?”
“I stopped by the building department and asked that exact question. As it happens, you can do without a permit if you’re working with an architect or structural engineer who verifies the veracity of the structure.”
Harry frowned. “That doesn’t sound right.”
Trey shrugged. “That’s the way it’s done, especially where it’s not convenient to send inspectors out.”
“And if an existing cabin was on the site?” Libby asked.
Trey said, “It’s not likely, since it’s not mentioned in the property description, but then again, omission of a structure on the property could be a clerical error.”
“Like this?” Luca asked, pointing to the property lot number. “On your paperwork, the last two digits are reversed from what Sunny’s paperwork shows.”
“Guess we have our work cut out for us,” Trey said.
“A scavenger hunt for land,” Libby comment, her tone tense, but dry. “Can I come along?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Trey said.
Libby’s chin went up and her eyes flashed with anger. She looked to Luca. “Sunny’s my sister and those kids are my niece and nephew. Either I come with you, or I drive up by myself.”
Trey scowled at her, but let Luca answer. “I’d really rather you stay here with your parents.”
Libby opened her mouth to retort, but her mother intervened. “Luca’s right, Liberty. You need to stay with us.”
Luca could have sworn some secret mother–daughter message passed between them, but he didn’t have time to pursue what it might be. His phone rang. Brant was calling.
“Where are you?” Luca asked.
“Outside. Got some info for you.”
Luca excused himself and went out to hear what Brant had to say. Trey was hot on his heels.
Damn, please let it be something they could use!
. . .
“If I were you, I’d focus on Rayna Parson first,” Brant said, getting straight to the point.
“Why do you say that?” Trey asked.
“She’s what you might call rid-hard-and-put-away-wet. Boyson likes that type the best.” He flexed his jaw and his voice grew hard. “He told me more about that broad and what she was willing to do in bed than I wanted to hear for the next hundred years.”
“She’s in Records, isn’t she?” Luca asked.
Brant nodded. “And relatively new, but she makes friends” —he air-quoted the word friends— “fast, if you get my drift.”
“Feel like going undercover?” Luca asked him.
“Only if I don’t have to go under the covers with her,” Brant responded, his tone sardonic.
Luca might have been amused if the situation weren’t so goddamned serious. “Go after her phone records. Get me a complete accounting of who she’s talked to over the past two months.”
“That I can handle.”
“Jimmy should be able to help you out.”
“Good to know. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have the information.”
“Let the Keenes know we’re following up on a lead, would you, but don’t give them any particulars.”
“Got it.”
Luca thanked him, his regret for a speedy departure somewhat relieved. He headed for his vehicle, taking off with a squeal of rubber. Trey followed in his own car.
They had a woman to talk
to about her relationship with the POS known as Earl Boyson.
. . .
“Sissy Rose,” came the raspy phone voice.
“Hey, Sissy, it’s Luca. Trey and I and a box of truffles are headed your way. We need to speak to one of your people.”
“Not a problem. You and Trey together will raise my BP, but it’ll be worth it.” She chuckled. “Who is it?”
“Rayna Parson, but you need to know, she might not be returning after we finish questioning her.”
“Hold on a minute, big boy, we got a problem. Rayna didn’t show up for work today.”
“Have you tried calling her?”
“Yep. No answer.”
“Is she prone to not showing up and not calling in?”
“Not once. She’s the biggest damned flirt to ever work for FPD, but she’s also one of the most conscientious employees I’ve ever had.”
“Give me her address,” Luca said. “We’ll swing by her place and see what’s up.”
“Hold on, I’ll get it.” After she rattled off both Parson’s address and phone number, Sissy said, “You get back to me the minute you know something.”
“Will do. Thanks, Sissy.”
“Don’t forget my truffles,” she reminded him
Luca laughed. “I won’t.” He disconnected and motioned to Trey who was parking his car in the station lot. “Parson didn’t show up for work today. I’ve got her address.”
“Let’s go,” Trey said, climbing into Luca’s sedan.
Less than ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of a tiny little house situated on a tiny lot not far from the downtown area. Rayna Parson maintained a well-kept yard, with an impressive profusion of color from geraniums.
They strode up the walkway and rang the doorbell. When that drew no response, they knocked on the door, in case the doorbell was not operational. Still no response.
They stepped off the small porch, each going in a different direction, peering into windows as they circled to the rear. At the back door, they climbed the three steps to the stoop. Luca knocked once more, but again, there was no response. The glass in the door was covered with a lacy curtain, but Luca pressed his face against it anyway, hoping to see something. “Ah, shit.”
“What?” Trey asked.
“Looks like a body on the floor,” Luca said. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a glove. He pulled it on his left hand, eased his Glock out of his side holster, and tried the door knob with his gloved hand. The door was unlocked.
Behind him, Trey also pulled out his weapon.
Rayna Parson was sprawled on the kitchen floor, dressed in what might have been her sleepwear—a tank top dotted with dragonflies and matching skimpy shorts. Her pretty face was marred by death and the bullet hole at her temple. Her inky-black hair fanned out in a puddle of blood and her dead blue eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
“Fuck!” Trey snarled, pulling out his phone.
The partners had a system. First, they backed out to the stoop. Trey called the Coroner’s office, who would dispatch a Medical Examiner to the scene. Luca phoned Desi Abbott, their Lieutenant, because the victim was one of their own. The LT would get things rolling with the forensics people. Luca made one more call to Sissy, stressing that she keep it confidential for the moment, as if she needed the reminder.
And then they waited, knowing the forensics team would chew them up and spit them out if they’d messed up the crime scene.
That didn’t stop Luca and Trey from taking in all the details of the room from where they stood outside the door.
“Wonder why he killed her?” Trey asked.
“Maybe she drew a line between providing him with confidential information and helping him escape so he could go after Sunny.”
“You’d think someone would have reported a gunshot, the houses are so damned close together over here.”
Luca grunted, his eyes on a corkboard hung on the far wall.
Trey followed his gaze. “Double fuck.”
A wave of panic surged through Luca. “This just got way more insidious.”
“No shit.”
“I need to get up the canyon. I can’t be working this all day. If Sunny’s holed up in a cabin up there with the kids, she won’t stand a chance against him.”
Before they could discuss it, the LT stepped into the back yard. “Forensics was pulling in right behind me.”
Luca gave him a brief nod. “We got a problem.”
“Other than a dead Records clerk?”
Luca nodded again. “She’s got a brochure for Vale Luna on her cork board.”
The LT mutter a string of profanities. “I was hoping your theory was one of those when-pigs-fly speculations.”
“We haven’t had a chance to fill you in, but we located property up the Poudre Canyon that Sunny’s husband owned. It may have a cabin on it.”
Abbott glanced at Trey, then back at Luca. “You think she’s up there?”
“It’s possible. Another big concern is, we discovered that Vale Luna owns the properties surrounding it.” A second surge of panic washed through Luca. The feeling was so foreign, he had no idea how to deal with it except to get to Sunny as fast as he could. “We need to head up there to check it out. Now.”
“Better get going. Barrett and Kozlowski are next in the queue. I’ll pull them in to cover this.” He climbed the stoop and peered past them into the kitchen. “You think Boyson did this?”
“Not a doubt in my mind,” Luca said.
. . .
Sunny fed Carson and Maisie a snack, considering her alternatives. Finally, she decided that she had no choice except to move down into the safe room.
She waited until they’d almost finished their yogurt, forcing herself to sound excited. “How would you like to go on another big adventure?”
Carson’s eyes rounded with amazement. “Another big adventure? Yay, Mommy! Where we gonna go this time?”
Maisie continued licking her spoon as if she didn’t care, but then her daughter took her relationship with food seriously.
“We’re going to the secret room.”
Carson leaned forward, almost vibrating with excitement. “Secret? Did you hear that, Maisie? A secret room. Hurry up and finish your snack so we can go! How far is it, Mommy?”
“Not far,” Sunny said. “In fact it’s a secret room that you get to through a secret door in mommy’s closet.”
Her son’s eyes rounded even more. “You have a secret door in your closet?” He scrambled down off his chair.
“Wait,” Sunny said. “We don’t go without Maisie. You almost finished, sweet pea?”
Maisie nodded, though she was inspecting the inside of the yogurt cup, as if it had hidden corners.
Sunny cleaned them up, then squatted in front of them, taking a small hand in each one of hers. “Here’s the deal. This isn’t a game. Some people who used to know Daddy want to take you away with them and Mommy doesn’t want that. We’re going to hide out in the secret room until they go away. Even though I don’t think they’ll be able to hear us down there, we’re still going to have to try and be really quiet. No yelling or screaming, okay?”
Carson turn his big-brother eyes on Maisie. “No yelling or screaming from you.”
Maisie nodded. “I cwy-et.”
Sunny released their hands and pulled them close for a hug. “I love you both so much.”
“Wub oo, too, Mommy,” Maisie said in her sweet little voice.
“I love you, too, Mommy,” Carson said, “and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
Stunned, Sunny wondered if Maisie had told her brother about her dream, or if he’d overheard her recounting it to Sunny.
Time to find more about that later, but for now, she had to get the kids situated downstairs so she could come back and make the place look like no one had been inside for the past five days.
Chapter 33
. . .
Sunny inserted Finding Dory into the DVD playe
r. “Remember what I said. You stay put, right here. No coming back upstairs. If you need me, talk into the monitory, okay? I’ll hear you.”
The children nodded their agreement, wiggling back and forth, trying to see around her.
“You break the rule and no more movie. Got it?”
“Mom-m-m-y-y-y,” they both whined together.
She finally relented and hit the PLAY button, and would have issued one more reminder, but the kids had their eyes fastened on the TV. For all intents and purposes, she didn’t exist at the moment.
Sunny hustled back up the stairs. She stripped the beds first, wadding the sheets into a bundle and tossing them down the stairs. She grabbed the towels from the towel bar and threw them down, as well. Knowing she couldn’t carry too much at a time down the semi-dark stairs, she made the first of several trips down to the safe room.
On the way back up, she wondered why Zach hadn’t put a light on the stairs. That thought made her shine the flashlight upward, where she discovered there was a light. But where was the switch?
Nothing obvious presented itself. Knowing Zach, it was probably hidden or disguised. She used the flashlight to examine the door moulding and sure enough, there on the right, just above eye level and on the side of the jamb was a marble-sized button. Sunny pushed it and the overhead light went on. Hallelujah!
Subsequent trips were a lot easier since she didn’t have to hold the flashlight to make her way downward.
Finally, all the toys, CDs, DVDs, storybooks, and food were relocated to the safe room. That only left one obvious problem, that being how to reinstate dust around the cabin’s interior.
Sunny considered going outside and scooping up dirt. If she put a little at a time inside a dry cotton dish towel, she could walk around and shake it over the furniture. Another idea occurred to her that might be easier to accomplish and wouldn’t leave a tell-tale sign outside that someone had been there. Flour.
She dashed back down the stairs to retrieve the container she’d brought from home with exactly two cups of flour in it. She had another one with exactly one cup of sugar. Both had been included in her supplies in case she got a crazy idea to bake something.