“Okay, so Coach Dillard is warning him against going to the cops. Why? He has to know inevitably, the kid is going to crack and say something.”
“Like today.”
“Exactly. So, he was hedging his bets and hoping Billy wouldn’t say anything until after the game tomorrow.”
The light came on for Joseph. “And that’s why Billy was running out of time. As soon as the game is over, he and Kelly lose their value and are dead.”
The school came into sight. “Right.”
Catelyn blew out a sigh. “Well, his car’s still here.”
Joseph put the car in park. “Because you were right on it when you said he had unfinished business to take care of. Come on, we can’t afford to wait on back up. Kelly’s life is on the line.”
Catelyn called and got a warrant on the way. She wanted to search that office. Every nook and cranny. And like Joseph said, there would be no waiting for backup. If Alan had Kelly, every second counted.
In what felt like a rerun of their actions just a few hours earlier, Joseph and Catelyn drew their guns and entered the building.
This time, though, they knew which door to aim for.
Once again, they took their positions on either side. “Police! Open up!”
Nothing.
Catelyn shot a look at Joseph who nodded. He stepped back, lifted a foot and kicked the door. It slammed in against the wall and bounced back. Joseph moved in, gun raised, using his body to block the door from banging shut.
The room was empty.
Catelyn walked over to the nearest wall and started tapping. “You got the door covered?”
“Yep.”
Tap. Tap.
She worked her way around the room. Up one wall, down the next. Tap. Tap. Thud. Thud.
“Hello, what have we here?” She quirked a brow at Joseph. She was onto something.
Fingers explored the paneling and then her palm brushed up against a slight bulge in the wall.
She pushed it and the paneling separated, revealing a door as tall as she.
Catelyn swung the door open to expose a small living area with a door that must be a closet and a bathroom complete with a sink, shower and toilet.
“Joseph!”
He rushed up to stand beside her. A teenage girl lay on a twin-size bed, hands bound in front of her, but not moving.
“It’s Kelly. I’ll call an ambulance.” He reached for his phone.
“I don’t think we’ll need that ambulance after all.”
Catelyn swung her gaze up to see Alan Dillard, gun in hand, step out of the room she’d figured to be the closet.
SEVENTEEN
A mixture of fear and anger coursed through Joseph. Fear for Catelyn and anger at himself for not covering the closet.
Catelyn’s nostrils flared, her gaze flitting between the man with the gun and the girl on the bed. “Well, well, came to finish up your dirty work, huh?” Disdain dripped from her voice.
“Shut up and drop your weapons.”
Catelyn slowly lowered her piece to the floor, keeping her eyes trained on the man in front of her. Joseph did the same. “So, you’re so hard up for entertainment you have to threaten kids to get your kicks?”
“Not hardly. I should have just killed the two of them, but I needed Billy. Now,” Alan said, “move into the room with Kelly and over against that wall.”
Catelyn moved first, obviously anxious to check on the unconscious girl. Joseph wracked his brain to try and figure a way out. He moved two steps in that direction.
Stopped.
“Wait a minute. We think we’re pretty sure why you kept Billy alive. You needed him for the big game. I want to know about Tracy.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want, now get in there.”
Joseph narrowed his eyes. “You had money on this game, didn’t you? You rigged it?”
Fury flashed in the man’s eyes, and Joseph realized he’d nailed it.
“This girl needs a doctor,” Catelyn interrupted. She glanced at her gun then back up at Joseph. He saw the intense worry on her face and knew he needed to move fast.
Alan Dillard refused to budge. Joseph tried again. “You killed Tracy, why?” He knew the answer but wanted to hear the man say it—and stall for backup to arrive. Where were they?
“I’m not playing the stall-for-time game. Now move.” He fired the gun and the bullet pinged off the ceiling raining plaster on Kelly and Catelyn. She flinched, but never took her eyes from the man.
Joseph moved slightly, watching, waiting for Dillard to get a little closer—then dove for him, just as the man stepped back and fired again.
Catelyn screamed, “Joseph!”
The bullet kicked up the floor just under his armpit. He rolled again and surged to his feet. Alan leveled the gun at Joseph’s head. “Don’t move. I won’t miss again.”
Joseph froze.
He’d failed to take the man down. Where was their backup? He’d called it in about three minutes ago when he realized they might find Kelly stashed somewhere in this office.
The gun moved to center on Catelyn and Joseph felt nausea churn in his gut. “Stop!”
Catelyn eyed the gun from her perch next to Kelly. She turned her gaze on Joseph, her look speaking volumes. He was to do whatever it took to disarm this guy.
“You move again, and the lady cop gets it. You understand?”
Joseph swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his throat. He wanted this guy as bad as she did, but he wouldn’t do a thing to place her in any more danger. He needed to stall. Surely, backup would be here soon.
“How did you get mixed up in this?”
“When our baseball program was close to being cut, I came up with the bright idea to form a gang, leaked some stories to the press about them and boom, we had money-hungry kids willing to break into houses and steal. Kids who thought being a part of a gang was cool.”
“And of course you picked kids that had a psychological need. The need to be accepted, the need to feel like they’re a part of a family, a group.”
The man smirked. “Of course. Now into the room. I’ve got to get out of here.”
“One more question.” Joseph didn’t give the man the option to refuse, he just asked it. “Why shoot Zachary?”
Startled, Alan jerked. Then he smiled and shrugged. “I didn’t shoot Zachary.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. Now move.”
A siren sounded from outside and Alan cursed, his gaze moving toward the window.
And Joseph reacted, taking advantage of the split second distraction. He hit the floor and rolled for the man, hooking a hand around an ankle. The coach gave a startled yell as he went down, crashing into a filing cabinet before smacking the floor.
Joseph’s senses took in Catelyn diving for her gun.
He flipped over and grabbed for Alan’s wrist but not before the man managed to pull the trigger again. Plaster rained down as the two scrabbled across the floor.
Catelyn searched the floor for her gun. It had been kicked aside in the scuffle. She found it halfway under the bed. Snatching it up, she turned toward the action.
A bullet splattered the wall above her head and she ducked.
Joseph was having a hard time subduing the angry man.
Finally, Joseph had the man’s wrist pointed elsewhere and she was able to point her gun, yelling, “Freeze! Drop the weapon!”
Uniformed cops stormed the room, yelling for Dillard to let go of his gun.
And still the man fought. Catelyn lined up a shot. She didn’t want to kill him, but she would if she had to. Then they rolled again. She lowered the gun, heart pounding, adrenaline surging.
She didn’t dare pull the trigger when Joseph could make a sudden move; she might hit him. But if she didn’t…Alan moved the gun around, leveling it with Joseph’s head.
Catelyn pulled the trigger. And got him in the shoulder of his gun hand.
“Ah!” Alan jerked back, screaming, arms flailing, yet he still kept a grip on his weapon. Catelyn stepped forward and soccer-kicked his gun hand. Another pained yell escaped him and Joseph pinned him to the floor.
An officer moved in and helped cuff the enraged man. Bridges. He’d rejoined the action, obviously feeling the need to redeem himself.
Joseph, panting and gasping, rolled away and groaned. “Thank God.”
Bridges stated over his radio, “Scene’s clear.”
The ambulance arrived and paramedics rushed in.
Catelyn pointed them to Kelly. Joseph wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. Concerned for him, she knelt beside him then offered him a hand up. “Are you all right?”
“I gotta get to the gym more,” he grunted, ignoring her hand. “That guy’s an ox.”
Officers escorted the man to the nearest squad car. Right now he protested it was all a misunderstanding and he needed medical attention.
Catelyn snorted. Right. Watching the paramedics, she said, “I’m going to check on Kelly.”
“I’m going to…sit here…one more minute.”
Every muscle in his body quivered at the stress he’d just put it through. But satisfaction surged. They’d found Kelly and captured Tracy’s killer. But what about Zachary? They still didn’t know who’d shot the teen. Unless Alan was lying, which was a distinct possibility.
But for now, Alonso was right. His friend wasn’t a murderer. He’d be pleased and Joseph would be his hero. Joseph smiled at the thought. More than likely, Alonso would ask him what took him so long.
Getting to his feet proved to be a painful process, but he did it with only a small grunt escaping his lips.
Now that he’d caught his breath, he had a few questions he wanted answered.
Catelyn moved back to him and he asked, “How’s Kelly?”
“Drugged up, malnourished and will probably be in the hospital a while.”
The crimes-scene unit entered and Catelyn greeted Sandy. “Hey, what are you doing working the field?”
“I decided I wanted a break from the lab. I’m trying my hand out here for a bit.”
“Aw, Sandy, don’t do that. Who am I going to call when I need a rush on evidence?”
Catelyn turned serious once more. “I’ll be real interested in everything you find. We still have questions that need answers.”
Joseph spoke up. “Yeah, like who shot Zachary Merritt.”
“I want to search Alan Dillard’s house.”
“Sounds good. I’ll request a team to get out there and do that right away.”
“And I want to talk to Alan personally. Sounds like he had a little side funny business going on with his female students. I’m willing to bet Tracy’s not the first.”
“Maybe not, but she’s sure going to be the last.”
At the hospital, Joseph and Catelyn hurried through the door and approached the front desk. Joseph obtained the information that Kelly was being admitted and that Alan’s shoulder would require surgery. The bullet had lodged in his collar bone.
They decided to head for the waiting room. Catelyn nudged him. “Look.”
“Stacy Dillard.”
“Right. You want to talk to her or should I?”
Catelyn shrugged. “Maybe I should. She might relate better to a woman right now.”
“Go ahead, I’ll go see if my badge earns me any information.”
Catelyn strolled over to the woman who sat staring out the window. “Mrs. Dillard?”
She jumped and turned, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, you startled me.”
“I’m so sorry about your husband.”
“I’m not.”
Ouch. Catelyn winced, but couldn’t say she didn’t understand the woman’s bitterness—not if the woman was aware of her husband’s extracurricular activities.
Stacy continued. “I’m not sorry about that. Sorry about a lot of other things, but not him.”
“So you know about him and…”
“Tracy. Yes.” She stood and crossed her arms. “I never thought him capable…and yet, I suppose I’m not terribly surprised, either.”
“Why is that?”
“He’s always had an eye for the young ones. I suppose after a while I just stopped wondering where he was and who he was with. I stopped caring.”
“But you’re here now waiting for him to get out surgery.”
The woman drew in a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, I am. And as much as I might hate…well, let’s just say he’s still Alan Jr.’s father, right?”
Outwardly Catelyn nodded. On the inside, she was questioning everything. The woman had almost just practically admitted she hated her husband, yet here she sat waiting for the man to come out of surgery. Her son’s father or not, that seemed strange to her. To each his own, she supposed.
“Mrs. Dillard?”
The two women turned as one. Stacy said, “Yes, Jill.”
A blond nurse approached. “I just thought I’d let you know that Zachary’s waking up. It’s so sweet of you to be so concerned about him. His parents are with him now, but they gave me permission to pass the word to you.”
Stacy Dillard drew in another deep breath. “Really? That’s wonderful. When will I be able to see him?”
“Shortly, I suppose. The doctor’s in with him now.”
“Thank you so much.”
Catelyn’s brain hummed with this new information. “Great. Finally.” She turned to the nurse. “Do you think he’ll be able to tell us who shot him?”
“Oh, I think it’ll be a while before he can talk. He’s still on the ventilator, but I would hazard a guess that sometime tomorrow he’ll be able to tell you what he knows about that day.”
Another delay. Catelyn smiled her thanks and turned back to Stacy. “I’ll be praying for your husband and family.”
“Even though he’s a terrible person?”
“God still loves him.” Catelyn nearly choked on the words, but knew they were true and maybe this woman needed to hear them. She was working on her anger, striving for the compassion she knew Jesus felt toward the man. Maybe if she gave lip service long enough, she’d actually feel it. Praying for the people she arrested was a new thing for her—and a tough one.
“Well, I don’t need God right now, I need some news on Alan. I’d really like to know if he’s going to live or die.”
Catelyn blinked. She wasn’t sure if the woman meant that to sound as cold as it did or if she was just still in shock over everything.
Giving her the benefit of the doubt, Catelyn shifted and watched Joseph pace back and forth, phone pressed to his ear.
“How’s your son?”
“What?”
“Your son. He was sick when we came by earlier?”
“Oh, yes, he’s better. Just a cold, I think.” She grimaced. “I’ll have to change his name just so he doesn’t have to be ashamed of it.” A huge sigh blew out of her. “He’s with my mother right now. She’ll keep him until I pick him up a little later. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s been my whole reason for…” She broke off and Catelyn handed her another tissue from the box on the table beside her.
Small talk over, Catelyn sat with the woman while Joseph pressed for answers from the CSU team. His brows rose at something said by the person on the other end of the line. Then he looked over at Catelyn and Stacy Dillard.
Crossing the room, he stopped in front of the woman. “Did Alan know that you were filing for divorce?”
EIGHTEEN
Joseph watched a number of expressions cross Mrs. Dillard’s face. Fear, anger, resignation. She finally sighed and looked at the ceiling. “No, but I suppose you’ll be talking to him about that when he comes out of surgery.”
“Is there some reason you’re waiting to let him in on your plan? The papers the crime-scene unit found were hidden pretty well and are dated three months ago.”
“I…wanted to make sure I was making the right decision. Alan had threatened t
o take my son away if I ever left him. I had to make sure I was up for the fight.” She gave an odd little smile. “But I guess today sort of clinched the deal. I can finally be free of his bullying and abuse, can’t I? I can toss those divorce papers in his face. I don’t have to worry about him anymore, do I?”
Compassion softened Joseph’s face. “No, I guess you don’t.” He changed the subject and asked, “Zachary met with someone the day of his sister’s funeral, but we can’t figure out who that person was. Do you know if it was Alan and if he had a reason to want Zachary dead?”
Stacy shrugged and shifted her eyes to the door that separated her from her husband. “I don’t know if they met or not. As far as if Alan had reason to want Zachary dead, it’s possible. If Zachary found out about Alan’s propensity for young high school girls, I’d say Alan would have some motive, wouldn’t you?”
“Definitely. But did Zachary know?”
She leveled her gaze on him. “He knew. Zachary’s been like a son, a troubled son, to me. He was angry with Alan for cheating on me. Zachary’s the one who told me about Tracy.”
“And you confronted Alan about this?”
“I did.”
“What did he say?” Catelyn asked.
“Gave me a black eye and told me I had a good life. He said if I didn’t want to lose it, I’d better be real careful about what I said and who I said it to.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I kept my mouth shut and made divorce arrangements.” Stacy used shaky fingers to pick at nonexistent lint on her faded blue jeans. “And I was working on a way to…get away from him. Forever.”
“Then chickened out at the last minute?” Joseph pushed.
“No…” She paused. “Like I said, I just needed time.”
“With your…friend?” There was no condemnation in his voice, but the woman still flinched.
“My friend—” she stressed the word “—is part of an underground organization that helps women and children get out of abusive situations. That’s who Zachary saw me meeting with and interpreted it a different way. I couldn’t tell him otherwise.”
A Silent Fury Page 16