by D. D. Ayres
She gave Cody ten more minutes and had a second squash blossom before she stood up and laid two twenties on the table. “Got to go. My aunt will be calling if I’m even two minutes late. Thanks for a nice—er, evening.” Her voice sounded a little strange in her ears. It must be the strain of making small talk to a man she was beginning to suspect had tried to kill Noah.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“No, finish your dinner.” She lifted both hands in protest. “I’m parked just out back. Come by the store tomorrow with your—um, esti-, your calcu—your costs.”
She was relieved that he didn’t try to follow her out. Something didn’t feel right. She would try Noah as soon as she was locked safely in her car. He might agree to meet her somewhere. At the very least, she’d get to hear the soothing sound of his voice.
* * *
“You look a little rocky, lady. You need a ride home?”
Someone was speaking to her. She didn’t know who. He stood in the shadows.
She was saying no.
She tasted the word, felt it slide like velvet across her tongue.
But the syllable never emerged as sound.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“You hear something buzzing?”
“Like what?” Noah slid the remains of gristle, fat, and bits of pork rib plus two slices of brisket into Harley’s bowl.
Mark patted his pocket. “Not mine. Your phone?”
“Don’t think so.” Noah reached into his pocket. “Damn.” He’d been sequestered in his home so long he’d forgotten to grab his phone when they went for food earlier.
“Sounds like the buzz is coming from the sofa.”
While Harley wolfed down the offering as though he hadn’t already eaten two generous scoops of dog food for dinner, Noah went into the family room.
Sure enough his phone, stuck down between two cushions, was signaling that he had a message. He pulled it out and looked at it. His heart began knocking uncomfortably against his ribs. There were two messages. Both from Carly.
“Family call?” Mark stood in the doorway with two beers from the six-pack they’d bought on the way home. Very few people had the number to Noah’s new pay-as-you-go phone.
Noah looked up. “Yeah. Andy. I need to call him back. Turn on the game. I’ve still got March Madness brackets in play. I’ll just be a minute.”
Without waiting to see what Mark would do, he headed down the hall to his bedroom. Harley, feeling particularly fond of his handler tonight, followed, licking Noah’s fingers for the final tastes of meat.
Noah punched Carly’s number without checking her messages. She could tell him what she’d wanted directly.
The phone rang, and rang. Finally, the answering service came on. He swallowed a curse. “Hey, Carly. You called. I was out. I’m back. Call me. Anytime. As soon as you can. Whenever. Call.”
He shook his head when he was done. He sounded like a desperate teenager.
“I don’t think that call is in your play book, Glover.”
Noah turned around slowly, intimidation in every line of his body. “You were sent to spy on me.”
Mark stood in the bedroom door, looking anything but guilty at being caught. “It was suggested that I might be able to keep you from doing something dumbass. Like talking to an eyewitness.” He did a chin-up at Noah’s phone. “Why is Carly Reese calling you?”
“I don’t know. She’s not answering.”
“Did she leave a message?”
Noah looked down. She had. Two, in fact.
Mark’s brow shot up his forehead. “Man, what are you up to?”
“It’s personal.”
Mark shook his head. “You need deniability if Durvan gets wind of this. I’m staying. I can’t hear a thing on her end from here. But I can vouch for what you said.”
“Prick.” Noah said it without heat.
“That’s what friends are for.” Mark moved to lean a hip against the dresser, prepared to wait Noah out.
Noah pushed Play.
Noah. You know who this is. I’ve got information about a man named Cody. Works for CowTown Fire and Water. He’s also a firefighter. Says he knows you. We’re here at The Usual. I’ll explain why when you call me back. No wait, I’ll call you back.
“What the hell, man!” Mark had jumped up as if the dresser had bit him in the ass.
Noah knew his expression had given him away. It must have turned murderous. He pressed the Speaker button and hit Play again.
This time it was Mark’s face that changed from surprise to concern as they both listened to Carly’s message. “Who’s Cody?”
“J.W. His full name is John Wayne Cody.”
Mark mouthed an obscenity, but Noah was pressing Play for the second message, which they listened to together.
Hi. Just making sure you’re still expecting me. Yes. No more than thirty minutes. I promise, auntie.
Mark frowned. “What was that one about? Wrong number?”
“No. Distress call. Carly’s in trouble.”
Noah’s voice was flat, but his heart rate was anything but.
He checked the time and calculated the interval between Carly’s two calls. She’d called the first time at 7:21, just minutes after they’d left to pick up barbecue. She’d called the second time ten minutes later. That ten-minute gap made his gut tighten. Something had changed. Her voice in the second message was higher pitched, as if fear were squeezing her vocal cords.
He brushed past Mark. “Your theory about J.W. just grew legs.”
“Wait up. How is Carly Reese involved in this mess?”
Noah grabbed his wallet and Harley’s leash. “I’ll tell you on the way.”
“Way where?”
“To Carly’s apartment.”
Noah went to his kitchen and opened an upper cabinet to pull out his pistol and shoulder holster.
Mark was watching him with hard eyes. “You don’t want to do that.”
“We’re police officers, as well as arson investigators. I have a right to be armed.” Noah’s voice held a challenge.
“Yeah. But you’re angry. Firearms and anger are not a good combination.”
“I won’t shoot him unless I have no other choice.”
“Man.” Mark wiped his mouth. “What if Cody’s packing?”
“I’m a very good shot.” Noah finished strapping on, then bent down and rubbed Harley’s head, who whined in excitement. To Harley the gun meant “on the job.” “It’s okay, boy. We’re going for a ride.”
He leashed Harley then looked up at Mark. “You coming?”
Mark nodded. “I’m driving. Seeing you like this reminds me why I was a firefighter, not a cop. The fire might kill you, but it doesn’t shoot back.”
* * *
On the way out the door, Noah called Carly again. No answer.
He crushed every negative feeling that tried to crawl up and gain a foothold in his consciousness.
Carly wasn’t answering. That’s all he knew. She might still be with Cody.
He checked his watch. Eight thirty. Doubtful. She might have gone home. Or, she might have decided to go to her aunt’s, for safety’s sake. That would explain the second message.
He dialed Fredda Wiley as he opened the back door of Mark’s truck to let Harley in. “Hello. Mrs. Wiley. Is Carly with you?”
He hung up thirty seconds later with his ears ringing from the dressing down the judge had given him. It started with “No, she’s not.” It ended with, “If she wanted to speak with you, Mr. Glover, she’d do so. If you have any decency, you’ll leave her alone.”
Not at her aunt’s.
Noah called Carly several more times on the drive. No answer. He decided against leaving a message, or sending a text. If J.W. was with her, he might have possession of her phone. A text message or the sound of Noah’s voice would let him know he and Carly were connected. Perhaps even tip him off that she had called.
They made it to Carly’s apartment building in r
ecord time. On the way, they had passed The Usual and made a turn through the parking lot. No Mazda.
Noah surveyed the parking lot at Carly’s apartment. Carly’s Mazda was not there, either. He took a second to absorb that fact. It was still early. She could be at the grocery store or even the mall. But he didn’t think so.
Noah opened his door. “Stay here with Harley. If she’s at home I’ll call you.”
“No way.” Mark opened his own door. “I’m kind of responsible for you now.”
He pressed Carly’s intercom button. No answer. Noah keyed in her pass code.
Mark didn’t say a word but his eyebrows were eloquent in their surprise.
They ascended the stairs like a pair of SWAT team members.
No answer to Carly’s doorbell or knocking.
“You got her key, too?”
Noah ignored Mark as he pulled out his phone.
“She’s not answering, man.”
Noah punched a number. “Wiley? Noah Glover. Do you know where Carly is? Hear me out. She called me twice tonight, and left messages. Said she had some information for me. I’m at her apartment and she’s not here or answering her phone. Do you have a key? Right. I’ll wait here, in case she comes home.”
Fifteen of the longest minutes of Noah’s life passed before the pounding of booted feet could be heard on the stairs and then Jarius Wiley appeared in full patrolman gear. “This better be legit. I’m on break early.”
Noah did the introductions. Mark and Jarius shook hands.
Jarius was all business. “Before I open my cousin’s door. What’s this all about?”
Noah debated. “Carly thinks she has a line on the man who started the fire.”
“What?” Jarius shook his head. “No, never mind. I believe you. That girl should have been a cop. Save us all a lot of aggravation.” He slipped the key into the lock.
Carly’s apartment was dark, as though she’d left in the daylight and not been back. The three men quickly checked the small space. Nothing was out of place. There were no dinner dishes, and her bed hadn’t been slept in.
Noah turned toward the front door without a word.
“Where are you going?” Jarius’s question went unanswered. Noah was already on the stairs.
Both men hurried after him. Mark double-timed it down the stairwell to grab Noah’s arm. “What the fuck, Noah.”
Noah swung around, body tensed to fight if necessary. “I’m going to pay a visit to J.W.”
“Not on my watch. If Carly’s really missing, we need to call Durvan back. This is his case.”
Noah held his friend’s stare. “If J.W. has Carly—”
“Then you’ll need the full authority of law enforcement in apprehending this guy, whoever he is.” Jarius loomed above the two men on the lower steps. “This is my cousin we’re talking about. I need details. Now.”
Noah looked from Jarius to Mark. “Call Durvan. If Durvan doesn’t buy my theory—”
Mark and Jarius exchanged glances before Mark said, “You’ll have to make him.”
* * *
“I’m missing basketball for this?” Durvan was dressed in sweat pants and a zip-neck pullover with a mustard drip down the front. Clearly the three men standing in his living room had interrupted an evening in front of the TV.
Noah moved past Mark. “We’ve got a line on the man who committed the arson fires.”
“I believe the arrest warrant had your name on it.”
“Jesus, Durvan. Do you have to be a prick on all levels?”
“All I’ve heard so far is proof you’ve been tampering with a witness. I told you to stay away from Ms. Reese.”
“I explained to you how we met and why before the arrest.” Noah glanced down, expecting to see Harley. But his K9 was still in Mark’s truck.
Durvan bulldozed ahead, as if Noah hadn’t spoken. “You come here with unsubstantiated allegations about a person no one has reported missing, and I’m supposed to accept your version of what’s happened to her? Now if that’s all you got to say, I’m done. Show yourselves out.”
“What about Carly Reese?”
Durvan turned to Jarius, who’d spoken. “You don’t know she’s missing, Patrolman Wiley. You have no proof she’s not at the movies. Or staying over at a girlfriend’s. Hell, she could be out on a date with someone less chancy than Glover. If in forty-eight hours you haven’t heard from her, you know what to do.”
Noah squared off against Durvan, his chest heaving in anger. “If anything happens to Carly, I’m coming after you.”
Durvan glowered at him, not giving an inch as he curled thick fingers into fists. “Take your best shot, Glover. Or get the hell outta my house.”
Jarius, a little taller and definitely younger than either man, inserted himself into the testosterone-fueled space between them, one hand on the Taser at his belt. “Back off, Glover. This isn’t helping Carly.”
Noah never took his gaze off Durvan, his expression still carrying the threat of bodily harm. “I’ve seen the video, Durvan. All of it.”
Durvan scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“The security video from the retirement home. I saw a man go in and then come out and drive my truck away. Mark saw it, too. And neither of us saw a man come back in the time before Carly Reese arrived. You know I’m innocent.”
“The hell you are. Your confessional text. Your fingerprints. Your WeMo app used by your phone the night of the crime. Fuel from your gas tank used as accelerant. That’s probable cause.”
Noah’s blue gaze was iceberg cold. “Explain how I could be unconscious in that store at the same time I drove my truck away.”
Durvan looked annoyed. “Answering that is not my job. That’s for the DA’s office to ponder. You’ve been arrested and will shortly be arraigned on several counts of arson and possible homicide. I’ve done my job. You’re going down, Glover.”
Noah took a step toward Durvan, pressing against Jarius’s unyielding rock-hard frame. “You know I didn’t commit this crime. What’s your deal? Were you scared you’d be accused of going soft one of your own if you didn’t arrest me? Meanwhile, you’ve handed the real criminal a get-out-of-jail-free card.”
Durvan shot him a baleful stare. “Prove it.”
“That’s what Carly was trying to do tonight.”
Noah backed up a step from Jarius, letting his rage out through his teeth. “Though God knows I asked her to stay out of this. She went to see a man named J.W. Cody tonight. Something happened that made her call me twice.”
He pulled his phone and played the phone messages for the benefit of Durvan and Jarius.
Jarius was dialing Carly before the second message began. He shook his head after a moment.
Noah looked at Durvan. “She’s not answering her phone. Even you must find that strange.”
Durvan stroked his mustache. “Who is this Cody guy?”
Mark answered to give Noah more breathing room. “Volunteer firefighter with Edgecliff Village.”
Durvan nodded slowly. “Yeah. I heard of him. Mouthy. Won a couple of citations? Recently missed making the firefighters’ final list of candidates.”
Mark nodded. “That’s him.”
Durvan took a moment to process. In the end he turned his stare on Noah. “Why him?”
“I don’t know. Yet. But I will figure it out.”
Durvan watched his colleague and protégé for several long seconds. “I still don’t know why you came to me.”
“That would be my call.” Mark looked from Noah to Durvan. “Noah wants to go by Cody’s place. I thought we should talk with you about that first.”
“Damn straight.” He turned his attention to Noah again, fury rising in his eyes. “No way you go anywhere near a potential person of interest’s place.”
Noah folded his arms, relaxing now that he had Durvan’s attention. “I don’t need your permission. Cody and I go back a ways. A man’s allowed to drop by an acquaintance’s home. If Car
ly’s there, I’m taking her out.”
“And if she isn’t there?”
“He’s the last person to see her. I have some questions for him.”
Durvan frowned. “If you assault the man, you could ruin your case before it’s made.”
“Then maybe you better come along as chaperone.”
“If you’re wrong about this—”
“Yeah. But if I’m right?”
“Two minutes to change. Don’t anyone move a damn foot out of this room until I return.”
* * *
J.W. Cody lived on the outskirts of Edgecliff Village, on Hobart, a street of small one-story houses not much bigger than a double-wide with a carport. The neighborhood was tree-lined and the yards, even in the dark, appeared well kept.
The house with Cody’s address turned out to be easy to find. It was overgrown with shrubs and trees, the grass losing the battle with taller sturdier spring weeds determined to stand their ground. There was a truck up on cinderblocks in the drive with a faded For Sale sign on the dashboard. No sign of Cody’s company van, or the truck Noah remembered him driving.
Durvan rode with Mark and Noah. Jarius, reluctantly, had had to abandon them for an emergency call on his police radio. He’d left with the words, “You find her or you don’t, you call me.”
Durvan had agreed that Noah would approach the door on his own. He was the only one with anything close to a plausible reason to come knocking.
Noah checked the time. 9:15. He blew out a breath as he approached the door. He needed to be loose. He needed to be just dropping by, looking for a mutual friend who said she’d been with Cody earlier. And now couldn’t be found. How Cody responded to that would tell him what he needed to know.
The second knock on the door caught the attention of a man walking his Weimaraner on a leash. “He’s not home. Haven’t seen his truck in two days.”
“This is Cody’s place, right?”
The man nodded.
Noah stepped back off the porch toward him. “Why are you keeping tabs on him?”
“He owes me twenty dollars.” Neighbors, bless them. “You?”
“Yeah. He’s got something of mine, too.”
The man nodded. “Good luck.” He moved on.