Lethal Target

by Janice Cantore

  There was also a note, which she unfolded and read.

  Chief O’Rourke, I’m sorry I lied. Tim did have a cloud account. I know the password, and I logged in and downloaded all the pictures he took the night of the party. I couldn’t tell you before because . . . well, it was Greg. He was smoking pot that night and was afraid if the wrong person saw the photos, he would lose his scholarship.

  Anyway, Greg left for school now, and I want you to find Tim’s killer. Here are all the pictures, even the ones of Greg. I don’t see anything here that would seem to help find Tim’s killer, but you are the cop.

  Sorry again. Are you going to arrest me?

  Duncan Peabody

  Tess groaned even though the drive gave her a jolt of hope. She still didn’t have her laptop back from the sheriff’s office. She put the drive down and hurried to take a shower, leaving her hair to dry in the cool morning air. She stopped for coffee and headed for her computer at the station.

  Jonkey was just going off duty. She frowned. “Hey, Chief, are you back?”

  Tess held up the drive. “These are the pictures from Tim’s phone.”

  “How?”

  “Long story.” She told her about the note as she unlocked her office, flipped on the lights, and turned on the computer.

  “You really think they’ll tell us who the killer is?”

  Tess crossed her fingers on both hands. “We can hope.” She popped the drive into its slot and watched as the pictures loaded.

  There were twenty photos displayed. The first were shots that must have been from before the party, as it was daylight. Tim’s mom was in one and there were a couple selfies of Tim. Then there were the nighttime party pictures at the Spot. Tess recognized everyone, even Howard Delfin. He wasn’t the subject of any photos, but he was in the background of two with a beer in his hand. Dustin was also in the background once or twice.

  And there was Greg, goofing with some pot, rolling a fat joint. Tess had no interest in getting Greg in trouble. She figured drug testing would do that if he had a problem.

  Conspicuously missing from the photos was Eddie Carr. The boys had said that the fugitive didn’t want to be photographed. Tess went back through the early photos. Coach Whitman wasn’t in any of them either.

  She kept going. Toward the end was a photo of the moon, surprisingly good considering it was taken with a camera phone. There were two dark photos that appeared to be the picnic area at Smugglers Cove. Tess squinted. She could see the back end of a car in one and in the next a figure beside the car.

  “Argh.” She sat back in frustration. “It’s too dark. I can’t make out the person or the car.”

  “Wait, don’t lose hope.” Jonkey turned the computer her way. “There’s photo software that might help us.”

  “Really?”

  Jonkey nodded. “Yep. Let me take this home and see if I can enhance it. I bet I can at least get you the plate number on the car.”

  “Oh, bless you. I’ll do all I can to get the OT approved.”

  “I want to do it.” She popped the drive out. “I’ll call you as soon as I have anything.”

  “Thanks, Becky.”

  “No, thank you, Chief. You don’t give up, and you set an awesome example to emulate. I’m behind you.” Thumb drive gripped in her hand, Jonkey left the office and Tess, speechless.

  Tess checked the clock; she hated waiting. And she was still officially off duty. She sat at the computer to check e-mail and considered calling Belcher and asking about her computer. But she didn’t have the strength to go toe-to-toe with him right now.

  It was still early, yet she felt drained and realized that it was an emotional fatigue. An understanding was beginning to dawn. This wasn’t only about the murder investigation; it was about her birthday, her father, and the argument she’d had with Oliver the night before. He’d ripped off a scab covering her most painful wound—the loss of her father—and she’d mourned for him all over again, only now she knew she finally had peace with his loss.

  It was time to talk to Oliver. Tess wanted—no, needed—to apologize to him. Probably she should also thank him. Then she’d call her mom. She and her mother had never been terribly close and had only gotten more distant since her father’s death. Tess felt like she needed to reach out to her mother with new understanding.

  She felt lighter somehow. A lot of anger she hadn’t realized she’d been hanging on to was gone.

  Oliver was a hard person to stay mad at in any event. She’d grown to appreciate his friendship. If Belcher did seat a grand jury like he threatened, she’d want Oliver in her corner. And she’d love to chew over things with him because he’d give her perspective and maybe a little peace. He had a way of looking at things that helped her clarify her own thoughts. She’d become a little dependent on his counsel and insight. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

  Tess knew that she’d rather focus on just about anything right now than Hector’s murder case. Even though all the evidence was circumstantial, there was an adage that a grand jury could indict a ham sandwich. Tess didn’t want to be that sandwich.

  She punched in Oliver’s number, and the call immediately went to voice mail. She left a brief message and expected he’d call her back soon.

  She thought about the photos and wondered if Jonkey would get anywhere. The woman was talented, so there was hope. Tess paced, debated going home to wait. After a few minutes, she decided to brew coffee. When it finished, she filled a cup and sat at her desk and turned on the computer. She checked her e-mail again, answering a few necessary queries, then caught up on some news. Time seemed to tick by slowly.

  When she finished with the computer, she took a look around the office, pain pinching when she considered that she might never wear her chief stars again. It hurt, but it wasn’t smothering like before. Tess knew this wasn’t the end of the world. It would be hard, for sure, but it would not defeat her.

  Sheila knocked. “Chief, I know you’re still on vacation, but Travis is here. He’s got a problem and wants to talk to you.”

  Tess stood and stretched. “I was just about to leave. I’ll come out and talk to him.” Tess had met Travis once. He was Oliver’s youth pastor. She greeted the young man in the lobby. “How can I help you?”

  The look on his face was grim and instantly put Tess on edge. Then she realized that Oliver had never called her back. It hadn’t been that long, but any delay was highly unusual for the man. He was prompt—even if he was tied up, he’d text. A feeling of uneasiness washed over her. Where was Oliver?

  “Chief, I hope it’s nothing.”

  She noticed his rigid body language. He didn’t think it was nothing.

  “It’s Pastor Mac. I can’t find him.”

  “What do you mean you can’t find him?”

  “Well, he’s usually the first one in the office. He texted me earlier today, said he was checking on something, but he’d be in soon.” Travis glanced at his watch. “That was two hours ago. He’s not answering his cell, and that’s not like him at all.”

  Tess asked, “What was he going to check on?”

  “He said he was going up to Arthur Goding’s place.”

  “Why there?”

  “Arthur had given him a key. Oliver’s gone up there a couple of times just to make certain the pot farmers weren’t up to any mischief. But I drove up there and didn’t see his car.”

  “Hmm.” Tess folded her arms and leaned against Sheila’s desk, pensive and working hard to keep the fear tamped down. A third missing man? What was going on? Oliver wasn’t the type to disappear or to ignore his phone. He was probably the most visible figure around town. Besides the church, he was involved in the community; he cared. And it bugged her profusely that he’d gone to Arthur Goding’s. It was too close to the Hang Ten.

  “Travis, is there any place else he might have gone? Some place that’s a dead zone and he’s not getting a phone signal?”

  “I’ve driven everywhere around town I can
. His car is nowhere that I’ve looked, and if he said he’d be back soon, then he wasn’t planning on going far.”

  “Okay. Officer Bender is on duty this morning. I’ll get ahold of him and explain the situation. We’ll need a little more information to call out search and rescue.” She straightened. “Travis, we’ll find him.”

  Travis calmed a bit. “I’ve called Jethro Bishop and a couple of other ushers to help.”

  Tess nodded and walked around Sheila’s desk, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find him,” she repeated. Her voice sounded a whole lot more certain than her insides felt.

  60

  Tess took Travis back to her office. She wanted to be certain that he was put in touch with Gabe and that everything possible was done to find Oliver.

  Just then Sheila popped her head inside the office. “Sorry to bother you again, Chief, but there’s a cable news crew out here. They want an interview.”

  Tess sighed. She had no obligation, and she should be gone. She could close the door and hide until they went away. But that just wasn’t how she rolled.

  “That’s okay, Sheila. I’ll handle it. Travis, give me a minute.” She stepped back into the lobby and saw a well-known cable news anchor holding a microphone in one hand and adjusting his collar with the other. A local news crew was also getting into position.

  “Oh, Chief O’Rourke, can we have a few minutes of your time?” The cable guy smiled what Tess was certain was an insincere smile. This man was one of her harshest critics during the turmoil in Long Beach. The urge to say no was overpowering. Instead, Tess steeled herself as if she were preparing for court testimony.

  “I can give you a few minutes, but that’s it.”

  He motioned to the cameraman behind him and Tess saw the light go on. This was probably going to be everywhere today. “We’ve just heard the news that a grand jury will be seated to consider the murder that occurred on your porch—do you have a comment?”

  Taken aback, Tess worked hard to keep her face blank. “I hadn’t heard that. My comment is I’m innocent.”

  “The victim was from Long Beach. Did he follow you here?”

  “He moved here, I know that, but I can’t speak to why he moved here.”

  “Connor-Ruiz wrote several letters accusing you of corruption, even notified the FBI, asked them to investigate. What do you have to say about that?”

  “I welcome any investigation. I’ve done nothing wrong, and I work with honest and professional cops.”

  “The Connor-Ruiz murder is now a major campaign issue—can you comment on that?”

  “No more than I already have. I’m innocent. Thank you.”

  There was more commotion on the street. Tess heard a familiar voice, and Cole Markarov burst into the station.

  “Just what is going on here?”

  The local newspeople turned to him. Like flies to honey, they began peppering him with questions, and he preened for them.

  “Councilman Markarov, what do you have to say about the grand jury?” The cable guy spoke loudly, and his cameraman tried to muscle the local people out of the way.

  “Why is Chief O’Rourke still working?” The local man was closer, and he had Markarov’s attention.

  “I’ll give you all a statement shortly,” Markarov said, smiling for the cameras.

  Then he turned to face Tess, smile dying. “What are you doing here, in this office? You were told to cease your law enforcement duties and take vacation days. The only reason it was vacation and not suspension was because Addie was certain that you would be voluntarily hands-off. You haven’t been—why, I even heard you were involved in police activity in Shady Cove just yesterday.”

  “Is that true?” the local guy called out.

  All eyes turned to Tess, but Cole didn’t let her answer. He began to give one of his campaign speeches. “She’s only brought big-city corruption to our small community.”

  She listened to him drone on and knew it would be a disaster for her if he won. She also believed it would be bad for the town. Cole was all about Cole; he wasn’t civic-minded. Currently his whole campaign was centered on Tess and how the first thing he would do was fire a corrupt police chief.

  Tess wanted to speak up, but she was given no chance. It was Travis who jumped in.

  “I asked the chief to help me. Pastor Oliver Macpherson is missing. She was trying to help me find him.”

  Cole stopped midsentence and turned to Travis, a mixture of irritation and shock on his face. “Pastor Mac? What’s happened?”

  “Are you organizing a search?”

  Cole held his arms up and stepped in front of Tess and Travis. “It’s not up to her.” He turned to Sheila. “Who is the officer on duty right now?”

  “Gabe Bender.”

  “Call him in here to assist Travis.”

  Tess sighed. “Listen. Think. Speak.” That rule certainly applied now. “Travis, Gabe will get to the bottom of things.” She almost told Sheila, “I’ll be home if you need me,” but thought better of it. She grabbed her car keys and forced her way through the pack and left the station.

  – – –

  Fear for Bryce made Tilly crazy. Pastor Mac couldn’t help her; she doubted Chief O’Rourke could either. She found herself craving a hit of something strong, really strong. She knew she couldn’t sit around. Idleness would make the craving worse, and she feared she would cave in.

  She had a sweatshirt that belonged to Bryce. He’d given it to her the last time they had dinner, so she wasn’t sure how much scent was on it, but she wanted to find out. She put it in her backpack and went to find Pastor Mac and ask him if he thought Angel could track Bryce. Angel had led the chief to Glen’s tent back in the summer after he was murdered. Maybe Angel could help her find Bryce.

  He had to be alive. Tilly didn’t want to consider life without Bryce. And she bet Blondie was hiding him somewhere on the pot farm. Maybe there was a dungeon in the basement. Or maybe they’d made a jail at the old logging camp. She couldn’t consider any possibility other than he was being kept somewhere against his will.

  She stopped before even getting to the pastor’s house. Something was going on. Jethro and a few other men were in a circle praying in front of the house. Fear gripped her heart in a vise and Tilly felt sick. Her first thought was that something bad had happened to the pastor. Heart beating fast and breath coming in a rush though she was standing still, Tilly tried to think. The next person she should go to was the chief.

  Hurrying away from Pastor Mac’s house, Tilly started to cross the street to the police station, only to see one of her brother’s work trucks coming up the street. She waited for it to pass, but it came to a stop in front of her. The window rolled down and she looked up to see her brother, Bart, regarding her.

  “Tilly.”

  “Hey.” She wasn’t sure what to say. Bart had been there for her when she was in the hospital. He’d helped her struggle through the broken femur and the detox. Then she relapsed and he washed his hands of her. She realized now she’d hurt him that one time more than all the other lapses. He’d banned her from the family business and farm. It had been months since they’d spoken. She didn’t blame him; he had small children. Drug addicts shouldn’t be around small children.

  “Where are you headed?” he asked.

  “Uh . . .” She glanced behind her, still wondering about the activity outside the church. If Pastor Mac were okay, he would have told her if something was up about Bryce, wouldn’t he? Then she looked at the police station. The chief might think it silly that she wanted the dog to track Bryce.

  She said the first thing that came to mind. “I need to get to Chainsaw Ridge. Can you give me a ride?” She held her breath for what seemed like an eternity.

  Finally he said, “Sure, hop in.”

  Tilly pulled the door open and let Angel hop in first. Then she climbed in and closed the door, appreciating what a big move for Bart this was, but mind still churning with worry for Bryce. She h
ad no idea what she would do when she got to Arthur’s but was planning on doing something.

  “You going to see Bryce?” Bart asked as he drove along River Drive.

  Tilly shot him a glance. He smiled.

  “Small town, Tilly. Even I’ve heard that you like the guy. I was worried at first. I remember Bryce got you hooked in the first place. But now . . .”

  Tilly swallowed. “But now?”

  “I hear things. Like I said, it’s a small town. Everyone says Bryce is changed, that it’s the real deal. I hope he’s good for you.”

  “I think he is. I . . .” Her throat started to close as emotion overwhelmed.

  “What’s the matter, Tilly?” Bart slowed.

  Tilly worked to keep her voice steady. She poured out the fear she had for Bryce.

  Bart pulled over to the side of the road. “So what are you doing going to Chainsaw? Shouldn’t you be talking to the police?”

  “They can’t help. Bryce is an adult. They think he just left. But he wouldn’t just leave. I know it.” She dissolved into tears.

  “Tilly, I know you’re not high. I can see that you are truly terrified. We need to go to the police. I’ll drive you there, okay?”

  Tilly looked at Bart. He’d been so distant for so long. Now he wanted to help.

  “Okay, Bart. Thanks. Let’s go.” As he drove, Tilly sobbed silently and prayed that Bryce wasn’t dead like Glen.

  Bart made a U-turn, and Tilly hoped she’d finally find some answers concerning Bryce.

  61

  Tess felt frustration fill her like cement as she reached her car. Gabe Bender pulled up. She hadn’t talked to him since she’d been asked to take vacation. He’d been helping Belcher with Hector’s murder investigation.

  “You’re needed inside,” Tess told him.

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s complicated and I have to leave. I heard about the grand jury.”