Lethal Target

by Janice Cantore

  Tess sighed, disappointment in herself pinching hard. “I have missed something, and I’m trying to rectify it.” She told him about the prints. “All this time I would have bet money Carr or Cherry had something to do with it. I violated my own rule #8: ‘Never assume.’”

  “But that was logical at the time. The only other suspects . . .” His eyes widened and Tess could tell that the thought hit him right between the eyes. “You don’t think that the boys . . .” He shook his head. “No.”

  “I don’t know what to think.” She told him about her conversation with the guys.

  “Do you want me to talk to them? They all go to my church except Duncan. It might be something harmless that they don’t want you to know. Boys will be boys.”

  “I’ll have to think on that.” She stood and paced to her whiteboard. “If only I had the last photos Tim took. My gut is telling me the answer is there. He took a photo that gave someone a reason to kill him.”

  “Did you already explore Tim’s cloud account?”

  She turned to face him. “His parents said they didn’t know one way or the other about a cloud account. Do you know something different?”

  “He had a cloud account at the church, I’m sure of it. Travis, my youth pastor, had the ability to access it when Tim had pictures that he wanted Travis to see.”

  “Is Travis around? Can you check?”

  “Sure.” Oliver bent down and punched out a text. “Not sure when he’ll answer.”

  Now Tess was amped; she felt as if she were mainlining the caffeine. The answer could be in Tim’s photos.

  There was a knock at the door. She turned and saw Addie and Casey in the doorway. They almost didn’t have to say it; she could see it in their faces.

  “Can we speak to you a minute, Chief?” Addie asked.

  Oliver got up to leave, but Tess stopped him. “You can stay, Oliver.”

  He nodded and returned to his seat.

  Addie took a deep breath. “I’ve talked to all the council members. If we voted today on whether or not to leave you on duty, the vote would be tied, two to two.” Addie sighed and looked pained. “I had to lay out all the information and decide not only what I think is best for the town but what is best for you as well. I don’t believe you killed that man, Tess, but I can’t look at this as a friend. I have to be the mayor. So I’m asking you to take some vacation. As of now you’re off duty. I’m afraid with all the dust that’s being kicked up and all the ammo this has given Cole, things will get rough for you. I know I’ve taken more calls than I can field. There’s even a national cable news crew in Medford on their way up here to cover this story. I’m sorry. This is a mess.”

  “We both hope everything will be cleared up soon,” Casey added.

  Tess could only nod and sit back down with her cooling coffee and half-eaten cinnamon roll.

  44

  Tilly found Bryce Tuesday morning. She’d done something she’d never done before, taken a walk she’d never wanted to take. She went to the pot farm.

  It took her and Angel forty minutes to walk there, and when they arrived, Tilly’s weak leg ached. She circled around through Arthur’s property because she’d heard he was out of town for a while. She followed the outer fence until she was sure no one in Blondie’s house could see her, then squeezed in through a hole. The outer fence encircling the entire property was cheap metal netting strung along wood posts. The fence around the product grow was redwood, and Tilly couldn’t climb or squeeze through that. Fixing the hole in the outer fence was on Bryce’s to-do list, and she was glad he hadn’t gotten to it yet. This was a dangerous move, but she needed to see her friend.

  She was careful to keep an eye focused in the direction of the house and stay out of the line of sight. When she did have to be in the open, she moved quickly and watched for any sign that she’d been spotted. Blondie lived in the house. The Reptile used to live there too, but he was in jail now. The Hulk and Bryce lived in separate RV trailers that Blondie had on the property. On her side was the time of year. The bulk of the pot workers wouldn’t be needed for a few months.

  The last time she and Bryce had talked, he’d told her he was working in the pump house. It needed a new roof and the pump itself needed work, so she headed there first. She could hear him humming as she approached and she relaxed a bit. But she waited a few minutes to make certain no one was with him before she said anything. The cold weather had caused a lot of problems with the farm well and pump system. Bryce had been working on it almost every day. Bryce had told Blondie that they needed a new system, but Blondie wouldn’t spring for one.

  His head was down and his back to Tilly when she and Angel walked up. Tilly smiled. She liked the way his soft brown hair fell. He wore it to his shoulders, and it always reminded her of the way ancient rock stars like the Beatles wore their hair. She thought it was cute.

  After a minute, she cleared her throat and he jumped.

  “Tilly! You scared me! What are you doing here?”

  He was jumpy and mad, and Tilly stepped back.

  “I hadn’t seen you and I missed you. I was worried.”

  His features softened, and he set down the part he was working with and grabbed a dirty rag to wipe grease off his hands. “Sorry, but things are weird around here right now. I don’t want Blondie or the Hulk to see you. They get mad if people trespass.”

  “The pot is small right now. What’s he worried about?”

  Bryce shook his head. “I don’t know, but Blondie’s jumpy and the Hulk is downright scary. That’s why I haven’t been down to see you. Ever since Lance Loud got killed, they don’t want me going anywhere.”

  “You’re a prisoner?”

  “Just about.” He looked toward the house and then took her elbow, directing her back to the farm boundary. “The Hulk gives me the creeps. He’s always watching.”

  “You’re okay, though?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He smiled. “I’m getting paid because there’s a lot of work to do here. They’re all just paranoid drug people—you know how that goes.”

  She returned his smile. She did indeed remember the paranoia. “Yeah, I do. I just missed you and wanted to be sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m good.” He squeezed her hand and gave Angel a pet.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Lance Loud. They think the chief killed him.”

  “I know. Blondie told me. And I heard him and the Hulk talking. You know her better than I do.”

  Tilly held his gaze. She knew Bryce felt like the cops were always hassling him for no reason since he got off drugs. And being arrested in Portland had cost him his truck. He feared it would be impossible for him to make enough money to get his truck out of impound once his court date was out of the way. That was one reason he put up with so much stuff that Blondie dished out.

  “She wouldn’t, Bryce. She’s a good person.”

  He cupped the side of her face softly with his hand. “I know she’s been good to you. That earns her some points. But she can deal with it. You just worry about you and Angel, okay?”

  She tilted her head, relishing the feel of his hand against her skin. “Okay.”

  “I’ll do the best I can to convince Blondie to let me go for coffee in the morning. I’ll tell him I need to get away from here for a bit. I’ll explain that to him as soon as I get a chance, all right?” They’d reached the fence line. He faced her and his warm smile made Tilly’s toes tingle.

  “Thanks, Bryce. I’d like that a lot.”

  He helped her through the hole, and Tilly and Angel trekked across Arthur’s property back toward the road. She glanced back once, but Bryce was gone and she tried to fight the worry. She’d lost Glen and saw Bryce as a godsend, a guy who understood her just like Glen had. She prayed fiercely, Please, God, please don’t let anything happen to Bryce.

  – – –

  Bryce went back to work, worry for Tilly straining his concentration. Then he thought of his own predicament, working at a jo
b where he was currently being kept a virtual prisoner. Blondie had said it was because of the Reptile’s arrest and Lance Loud’s murder, that everyone who worked on the farm was in danger.

  “It’s for your own safety to stay on the down low, at least until the murderer is in jail,” he’d said.

  He believed the chief had some sort of odd vendetta against all pot growers and had killed Lance to send a message. She would kill everyone affiliated with the farm if given the chance. Bryce had told Tilly it was simply paranoia speaking, but he didn’t really believe that. And he couldn’t afford to say out loud what he did believe. Something was going on. The Hulk and some new guy, a short Mexican dude, had brought some boxes of stuff, put them in the two sheds Bryce used for storing tools. They filled both sheds, double padlocked them, and told him to find another place for his tools.

  And Blondie’s demeanor made him wonder if, in spite of all Bryce had seen that was aboveboard, everything going on here was legal. He’d escaped the drug life and was living on the straight and narrow until that stupid warrant tripped him up. Had he made a huge mistake taking this job?

  He pondered that question until Tilly came to mind. He’d had a crush on Tilly when they were kids in second grade. It had ebbed and flowed over the years, and he thought it had died out when drugs fried his brain. But when he saw her again a few months ago, that smile, the eyes so blue they put the sky to shame, he knew he’d never gotten over her. Haywood called her “that broken chick.” And yeah, she was broken, but so was he. Maybe together they could make one whole person. She was why he stayed at this job. It paid well, and his one goal was to make what he thought was enough money to get him and Tilly out of here. He hadn’t told her yet, but that was his plan.

  He was finishing up in the pump house when the Hulk came and stood in the doorway. Bryce didn’t hear him walk up. He looked up because it suddenly got darker.

  “Where were you earlier?” the Hulk asked, cigarette bobbing in the corner of his mouth.

  “Huh? I’ve been in here all day.”

  “No. You walked down to the fence line—I saw you.”

  Then he must have seen Tilly. Bryce swallowed, trying to think fast. He didn’t want to get in trouble, but then neither did he want to get Tilly in trouble. He remembered something the friend who helped him get clean once said: “The truth is always the best way to keep from getting tripped up; you can always remember the truth.”

  He said, “Look, Don, I’m sorry. You know I like that girl from town, and she’s sweet on me. She found her way up here, worried because I haven’t been to see her lately.”

  “What, does she think we’ll hurt you or something?”

  “No, no, it’s not that. She just missed me, is all.” Bryce braced himself, unable to tell if the Hulk was fighting mad or just curious.

  “She shouldn’t be coming up here like that.”

  “I know. I told her it was a no-no and walked her off the property—that’s it. You won’t tell Haywood, will you?”

  Cherry’s eyes narrowed. “At least you’re an honest stupid sap. No, I won’t say nothing. But don’t let it happen again. And seal up that hole in the fence, now. Haywood ain’t going to want any strangers mucking things up. I’ve got some errands to run. This place needs to be secure. Understand?”

  “Yep.”

  He tossed his cigarette down and mashed it out with his boot before leaving.

  In spite of the early morning cool, Bryce wiped sweat from his forehead. Carr had been the one with the rep for being hot-tempered, but Cherry was the scary one. His eyes were dead black holes that looked right through a person. Bryce knew he was a man who could kill without a second thought, if it suited him. He had to get out of here. He was due a big paycheck the day after tomorrow; maybe he’d leave then and find other work somewhere. All the money in the world would do him no good if he were dead.

  45

  Work was her life.

  Work was her identity.

  Tess swallowed some cinnamon roll with her coffee, steadying herself as the news from Addie sank in. On one hand, she didn’t blame Addie. She knew that once a furor got started, it was practically impossible to quell it. On the other hand, she felt as if her world was just rocked by a 9.0 earthquake. And she was without a disaster preparedness kit for this.

  Call it vacation or something else, she was, essentially, relieved of duty. Unless the real murderer was arrested immediately, she was going to have to find some way to occupy her time.

  “Looks like I’ll have to leave it to someone else to find Tim’s killer,” she said to Oliver, trying to smile and fight the hurt and fear that threatened to swallow her. Any strength she had in that moment she used to keep breathing. But when she looked into Oliver’s clear gaze, she felt an infusion of strength return because she knew he believed in her. It was a lifeline.

  “Addie hasn’t lost faith in you,” he said. “This is just politics.”

  “Politics is a four-letter word. I just got a useful lead in Tim’s case and I’m sidelined.” Furiously, she worked to concentrate on Tim and not what was happening to her. But the question burdening her heart blurted out before she could stop it. “I did nothing wrong. Why is this happening to me again?”

  “This is far from the same thing as your prior shooting. This is a misunderstanding that needs to be cleared up.”

  “I wish I could be so sure. It’s like your God is out to get me.” She tried to sound like she was making a joke but wasn’t sure she succeeded.

  Oliver shook his head. “Saturday at your home, you mentioned a card of your father’s, one with Bible verses.”

  “Yes.” She pulled the card out of her pocket. “Here it is.”

  “May I see it?”

  “Sure.” She handed it to him.

  Oliver scanned the card, reading each verse out loud. When he finished, he looked up and smiled. “Great verses. All great encouragement for people in uniform. None of them warning that God would be out to get anyone.”

  “Maybe. At any rate, all I remember from so long ago is that the words strong and courageous stood out to me. That was my dad.”

  “You take after him.”

  “I wish that were true. My father would have answers for all this; he had answers for everything. What if I can’t be a cop anymore?” Fists clenched, Tess fought to keep her composure.

  “It won’t come to that. But if it did, is that the worst thing that can happen?”

  “What do you mean? This is my life—it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Losing my career would be failing my dad.” She stared at him—surely he understood that much about her.

  “Tess, I’m not a father and I didn’t know your dad, but there is nothing in you that anyone could call a failure.”

  She heard his words, but everything was cutting too close for Tess now.

  “Can we have this discussion another time?” She stood. “I need to get Curtis in here and let him know he’ll be in charge. We just got Bender back and were full strength. Now this . . .”

  “Sure, sure.” Oliver got up to leave but turned at the door. “You’re a good, smart cop. Fight the urge to lose your confidence. And I’m always available if you need someone to talk to.”

  She nodded thanks and he left.

  Tess tried some deep breathing to steady herself before she called her sergeant. The more she thought about the situation and the more steadying breaths she took, the more her confidence returned. She couldn’t quit or let herself get bogged down by worry—she was on vacation and she’d make the best of it.

  She glanced at the courage card, not seeing the words, but seeing her dad. “It’s always too soon to quit.”

  I must make the best out of what I have left.

  She was about to call Curtis when Sheila knocked on the door.

  “Sorry, Chief, but Damien is here, and he wants a word.”

  Tess thought for a minute. She could beg off—she was, after all, on vacation—but that would be cowardly. She
would handle the media inquiries. “Send him in.”

  Damien walked in, looking grim. “Hello again, Chief.”

  “Hi, Damien.”

  “Do you have a statement about the body on your porch?”

  “No beating around the bush with you. All I’ll say is that I had nothing to do with the murder of Hector Connor-Ruiz, and I’m confident the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department will find the killer.”

  “That guy made quite a splash here in a very short time.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  Damien looked down at his phone. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. This is becoming a campaign issue.”

  “Figures.” Addie had mentioned as much.

  “Cole Markarov is placing ads.” Damien read from the phone. “‘I never wanted to hire this person for chief, and now I’m proven right.’” He looked up. “He then goes on to call you a suspect in a murder, and he berates Addie for expressing any confidence in you at all.”

  Tess bit her bottom lip and forced herself to follow rule #1: “Listen. Think. Speak.”

  “Cole didn’t waste any time. Damien, I had nothing to do with this homicide, but for some reason, the man was murdered on my porch. Anyway, the investigation is only two and a half days old.”

  “The rumor is you killed him, Chief.”

  Tess clenched one fist behind her back and held the reporter’s gaze. “You should know better than to believe rumors, Damien. I can’t comment further because this office is not handling the investigation.”

  “He wasn’t a very likable guy.”

  “No, I don’t guess that he was. But I’m sworn to serve all the people, not just the ones I like. Hector was a member of this community. I want his killer apprehended.”

  “Does it say anything that you’ve been removed from the investigation?”

  And from duty.