Hidden Target

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Hidden Target Page 24

by Rebecca Deel

The old man narrowed his eyes. “Your lady friend?”

  “Her sister, but I’m afraid Madison was the target. Madison and her sisters are identical triplets.”

  “My wife was one of twins.” Bates’ voice thickened. He closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them again, his gaze drifted to a black-and-white photograph sitting atop the television, the only flat surface in the room not covered with trash or clutter. Inside the gilded frame was a picture of a smiling couple, the woman dressed in a white wedding dress, a younger Richard Bates in a tuxedo. “Helen would have done anything for her sister.”

  “Madison feels the same way about her sisters, Mr. Bates. She’d do anything to protect them, sacrifice herself if necessary to keep them safe.” He forced the words past a granite lump in his throat. “I don’t want to lose her.”

  Bates shifted his attention back to Nick. He sat in silence for a moment. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me about Scott’s relationship with John Castigian.”

  The old man shrugged. “Scotty said John was a good man trying to protect his family. He respected that.”

  “And after Scott was released?”

  “When he found out John died, he tried to find the Castigians. Scott wanted to help. Said he owed them because of his friendship with John.”

  “Did he find them?”

  Bates shook his head. “Wife and son were dead. Daughter disappeared.”

  “Did he find the girl?”

  “No.”

  His drawn out vowel snagged Nick’s interest. “You’re not sure?”

  “Scott was gone for several days after your partner’s accident, said he needed to get in touch with a friend. Whatever he learned upset him. Not long after he returned, Scott received phone calls from a woman.”

  “She called here?”

  “I was at his apartment one night. He’d left to pick up dinner and I answered the phone.”

  “Did she identify herself?”

  “No. When I asked Scotty about her, he said she was a friend in trouble. Never told me her name.”

  Could the mysterious woman be Ava Castigian? Was she connected to Luke’s death? “Mr. Bates, the sniper rifle found in Scott’s trunk belonged to John. You have any idea why he had it?”

  Bates shook his head.

  Nick noted the fatigue wrapping around the old man like a cloak, and stood. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Bates.” He took a couple of steps, then turned back. “Do you know if your son was into pornography?”

  The father stiffened. “Scotty would never get involved with that garbage. His best friend from high school got hooked on it and lost his family, his job, everything. My son swore he’d never lose his family for an empty adrenaline rush.”

  Madison hooked Jewel’s leash around a maple tree and went inside the old dress shop. The overwhelming aroma of sawdust and plaster tickled her nose, making her sneeze. The whine of power tools and shouts of workmen rang in her ears.

  “Madison, over here.”

  Craig Lawrence waved from the back of the store. He stood beside a tall, dark-haired woman talking with a workman. Madison negotiated the nail-littered floor, dodging saw horses and 2 x 4s.

  “It’s like a war zone in here. Let’s go outside where we can talk.” Craig motioned to the other woman and opened the back door.

  Glad to get away from the noise, Madison headed for the picnic table under an oak tree at the edge of the parking lot. Craig sat across from her. “I heard you were in town Wednesday night about the time of the fire.”

  He looked startled. “I was in your store not long before the fire started, maybe 9:00. Charles Howard met me so I could do a walk-through for a client who wants to open a restaurant.”

  “See anything unusual or notice anybody standing around?”

  Craig shook his head. “I was in the store a couple of minutes.” He glanced sideways at the brunette woman approaching before he turned back to Madison. “How’s your sister today?”

  “Sore, with a hedgehog’s attitude.” Madison smiled and held out her hand to the woman now seated beside the real estate agent. “I’m Madison Ryder.”

  “Del Peterson.” Her green eyes sparkled in the dappled sunlight, a warm smile curving her lips. “You have a sister?”

  “Two, Megan and Serena. We’re identical triplets.”

  Del’s eyebrows rose. “Why is one sister named Serena instead of another ‘M’ name?”

  “Mom thought she was having twins.” Madison’s smile widened. “She was so surprised by a third baby she couldn’t think of another name to match. Dad named Serena.”

  Del chuckled. “Sounds like you have a great family. I have three brothers and have many cousins living in the same town. I love my family, but sometimes they’re a bit much to take in large doses.”

  “You’ll like the Cahills,” Craig said. “Meg’s the editor of the town newspaper and Serena’s a personal chef.”

  Time to get this meeting back on track. She still had more stops to make and she didn’t want to leave Jewel out front too long. A hot pooch made a rank traveling companion in an enclosed space. “Craig said you’re looking for a compatible business to share this retail space. What are your plans for the store?” Madison listened as Del explained her vision for the bookstore and the coffee area. When she finished, Madison told her about The Bare Ewe.

  Del looked thoughtful. “Sounds like our businesses will funnel customers to one another. I’ll have my lawyer rough out an agreement for us to think about. Your lawyer can look it over and make suggestions for improvement, then we’ll set up a meeting time to hash out the details. We’ll include a buy-out clause for each of us in case we decide the partnership isn’t working.”

  “Buy-out clause?” Stunned, Madison licked her dry lips. “I thought this was a rental contract.”

  Del grinned. “It was supposed to be a rental, but I think this is the right way to proceed.” Her smile wavered and her cheeks flushed a rosy hue. “I hope you don’t mind, but when Craig told me about you a few days ago, I asked around town about you and your business. I’m impressed with your reputation in the community.”

  Madison thought about the proposal. She liked Del and the woman smiling back at her loved books. Josh wouldn’t have to buy books in Knoxville anymore, and Meg would spend a lot of time and money in the bookstore. “Get me the contract when it’s ready. I’ll have to look it over, but I think this is a great idea.”

  Del’s face beamed. “I’d like to meet your sisters. I can see big benefits in having a personal chef and catching the eye of the newspaper editor.”

  “Give Serena a couple of days to recuperate, then you can hit her up for a sample meal.” She gave a brief explanation about her sister’s condition.

  “Maybe I’m naïve,” Del said, “but I thought small towns didn’t have crimes like that.”

  “We have everything a big city has, but in smaller doses,” Craig said. “Friday morning I was driving to an appointment when someone almost ran me off the road.”

  “Did you see who it was?” Madison leaned toward the realtor, her gaze intent. “Maybe Ethan could track down the car.”

  “Who’s Ethan?” Del looked from Madison to Craig and back.

  “Ethan Blackhawk is the police chief and Serena’s fiancé,” Madison said.

  Craig stood up. “I just saw a black car driven by a woman with dark hair.” He shook hands with Madison and Del. “I have a house to show in 15 minutes. I’ll be in touch soon, ladies.” With a wave, he was gone.

  “I’d better be going, too.” Madison slung her purse over her shoulder, mindful of her promise not to be alone with anybody. “I have several more stops to make this morning.”

  Del handed her a business card. “Call me in a couple of days; we’ll talk more.”

  Back inside her Jeep with Jewel, Madison punched in Ethan’s number. When he answered, the background noise almost drowned out his voice. Chickens? Where was he? “It’s Madison. I’m leavi
ng the old dress shop and heading to Petals.” A roar of laughter filtered through the phone. “Ethan, where are you?”

  “About three blocks from you. If you see a chicken running loose, shoo it toward Pennington and Harbor Springs.”

  Madison grinned. “Chasing down dinner?”

  “Very funny, Maddie. A truck carrying 3,000 hens overturned in the intersection. The driver swerved to miss a dog.”

  She laughed. “Did Meg get your picture for the newspaper?”

  “What do you think?”

  Oh, yeah. Ethan’s picture would be plastered all over the front page tomorrow, probably with chicken feathers decorating his coal-black hair. Meg never passed up a chance to rib her brother-in-law to be. She said it served him right for giving her such grief over her driving habits.

  She assured Ethan again she was being careful, and drove the few blocks to Petals. For once, she didn’t have a hard time finding a place to park. She slipped Jewel’s leash onto her wrist. A bell rang over the door as Madison walked into the flower shop.

  Her canine companion sneezed. The floral scent must be overpowering for Jewel’s sensitive nose.

  “Hi, Madison. Hello, Jewel, my sweet.” With a ringing laugh, Georgia Shannon leaned down, ruffled the dog’s fur and scratched the white head. When Jewel’s attention shifted to the nearby plants, Georgia straightened and turned to Madison, her smile fading. “I heard what happened last night. How’s Serena?”

  “Sore with a few scratches, but she’ll be fine in a couple of days. If Ethan has anything to say about it, Serena won’t lift a finger the rest of the week.”

  Georgia chuckled. “He’s brave to take on that challenge. Now, what can I do for you? Would you like to order flowers for her?” She walked to one of the coolers. “I can put some daisies and carnations together in a mug and place it in a basket with a cookbook, some chocolate, or spices.” She looked back over her shoulder with a grin. “I can’t suggest anything too elaborate. Don’t want to upstage the dozen roses Ethan sent her.”

  A lump formed in Madison’s throat. “He’s a good man,” she said, her voice husky. “Just like Nick.”

  Georgia swung around. Her eyes glittered with anger. “How can you say that? He killed a man.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Georgia’s words seemed to echo in the quiet store. Stunned, Madison took a minute to tamp down her own temper. Why would Georgia assume something so evil about Nick? They’d been friends for years. “If Nick had killed Scott Bates, Ethan would have him behind bars.”

  “That’s what Dad said.”

  “You don’t agree?”

  Georgia’s eyes flashed. “I think my father has blinders on where Nick’s concerned. I doubt if anything he did would change Dad’s opinion of him.”

  Madison frowned at the bitterness in her friend’s voice. “You hurt Nick the other day at the deli. What did he do to make you so angry?”

  Face flushed, the florist averted her gaze. “Nothing,” she said. “He did nothing except be the son Dad always wanted. You can’t imagine what it’s like to be an only child, knowing your parents dream about another baby, a boy. Poor Dad. Stuck with a girl, one who hated sports and chose a career in flowers.” She spun around with a sour expression, her laughter hollow, forced. “After Nick’s family died, Dad spent more time with him than he did his own granddaughter.”

  “Nick respects you and your family. He counts your family as close friends.” Madison tightened her grip on Jewel’s leash. “Before I leave, I wanted to ask you about last Wednesday night. Did you come back to town after you closed the shop? I know you return sometimes to finish an order or arrangement after your daughter goes to bed.”

  Georgia’s brows furrowed. “I did finish an arrangement,” she said. “I left the shop a little after 9:00, but I didn’t see anyone in The Bare Ewe, if that’s what you’re asking. It was pretty quiet in town that night. I didn’t see a soul except for Jenny and Sherry. They must have just closed the drugstore for the night. Other than their cars, Main Street was empty.”

  Disappointed, Madison mustered up a smile. “Thanks, anyway. Why don’t you send Serena the flowers in the mug and some chocolate from me? I don’t know of a better way to coax a smile from her.”

  “Anything you can tell me about Ava would help.” Nick set his empty tea glass on Allison King’s kitchen table. His glanced out the window, wishing the old Castigian house next door could tell him where Ava relocated. No one he’d talked to seemed to know. “When did you see her last?”

  The young mother redirected the exploring hand of her child before answering. “Not since her brother’s funeral. Such a tragedy, all the way around.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He waited, watching the interaction between mother and child, almost envious of their relationship. Maybe it was a sign of how much he loved Madison and wanted to share the joys of parenthood with her. If she didn’t want to adopt kids, he’d concentrate on a close relationship with his nieces and nephews. Sure, he’d be disappointed not to have children in his home, but his life would be full as long as he had Madison.

  Mrs. King stared off into the distance, frowning. “You know, I thought I saw Ava a few weeks ago, but I must have been mistaken. When I called out, the woman didn’t turn her head.” She shrugged. “My husband says I imagined the whole thing because of sleep deprivation. Emily still wakes us several times a night.”

  “I understand that can be pretty rough. She’s a beautiful baby.”

  She beamed. “Thanks.” She glanced down at his left hand. “Do you have children of your own?”

  “Not yet.” He rose, collected their glasses and placed them in the sink. “Do you remember when you thought you saw Ava and where?”

  Mrs. King thought a minute. “July 3rd, in the afternoon. I remember because Emily had a doctor’s appointment for her six-month check-up and shots.”

  “Where did you see Ava?” Nick’s heart slammed against his chest wall. July 3rd was the day he’d been shot. Was it a coincidence? Could she be connected to his shooting?

  “On Taylor Avenue,” she said. “I recognized her car.”

  Stunned, Nick swallowed hard. Taylor Avenue was two blocks from where he was shot. “Do you remember the time, Mrs. King?”

  “Sometime after 3:00. Are you all right, Mr. Santana? You look pale.” The look in Allison’s eyes mirrored the concern in her voice.

  “Uh, yes, ma’am.” Nick’s hoarse voice belied his words. Ava? Still reeling, he rinsed their glasses and deposited them in the dishwasher.

  He continued to probe her memory about the day of his shooting. When it became apparent Allison had no more information to give, Nick ended the interview and headed to West Side High School.

  “Delaney’s will have a special on fried chicken for the next couple of days.” Ethan held his cell phone closer to his ear, observing cars creep through the intersection. Four hours to round up the surviving hens, load them into cages and send them on their way. The thought of eating chicken made him shudder. He longed for a thick, juicy hamburger. Maybe he’d stop by Burger Heaven and buy dinner for himself and Serena.

  Madison’s laughter rang in his ear. “I left Jewel with Meg and I’m headed to the hospital. Want me to check in first or go on home?”

  “Call before you leave. Josh should be finished with his psych evaluation in a few minutes. I may send him to follow you home.” When she didn’t bother to argue the point, he smiled. His almost sister-in-law was learning.

  “Heard from Nick?” Madison asked in a soft voice.

  “Not yet. Try not to worry.” Ethan glanced at his watch. Nick was due to call within the hour.

  Nick paced in the carpeted waiting area of West Side’s main office. Not even the fish swimming in the wall-sized tank stilled the turmoil seething inside. Was Ava Castigian responsible for Luke’s death and Madison’s troubles? The brewing storm eroded his peace. Had the Ryders’ connection with him destroyed their lives? Someone called his name. He tu
rned on his heel.

  A hefty balding man held out his hand, smiling. “Ken Gray, principal of West Side. How can I help you?”

  “I’d like to see your yearbooks from about 10 years back.”

  Gray looked surprised. “Why?”

  “I’m investigating a case that may involve one of your former students. I need background information from the yearbooks.”

  The principal’s forehead creased. “I suppose that would be all right. They’re in the library.” He turned to his secretary. “Harriet, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Nick accompanied the man down the locker-filled corridors into the library. Students glanced at the principal as he strode through the large room to the red-headed librarian behind the help desk. “Ms. Carter, this gentleman needs to see some old yearbooks.”

  She smiled, curiosity glittering in her brown eyes. “Yes, sir. If you’ll tell me which years, I’ll get them for you.”

  Nick held up his hand. “I don’t want to interrupt your work. If you’ll point me in the right direction, I’m sure I can find them.” After he received directions to the volumes, he thanked the librarian and walked upstairs to the stacks with the principal close on his heels.

  “What are you hoping to find?” Gray said, puffing as they stepped onto the second floor. Perspiration glistened on his forehead.

  “A small group of friends so I can locate this woman.”

  “Has she done something wrong?”

  “I’m looking for information regarding her father,” Nick said and scanned the yearbook spines for the right years. “She may be able to help me solve the murder of a police officer.” He grabbed a yearbook from the time Ava should have been in school and flipped through several pages to the index. Ava Castigian’s name appeared on several pages throughout the book. He selected one of the page numbers and thumbed through the volume until he reached the section with pictures of different clubs.

  Nick read the caption nestled at the top of the page. Junior Marksmen. His stomach lurched. He scanned the photograph shown, his gaze stopping on the face of the club’s top marksman, the clay target regional champion. Ava had shifted from clay targets to human ones.

 

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