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Line of Fire

Page 5

by Rachel Ann Nunes


  “If we don’t arrest you,” Greeley amended.

  Great. Greeley had his suspect and wasn’t going to look further. We’d better hope the victim regained consciousness. Not that I really cared where Cody ended up, but he shouldn’t be charged with something he didn’t do.

  Grumbling under his breath, Cody preceded all of us from his house, stopping on the porch to make a show of locking the door. “Now I have to go and put this on the cellar,” he said, holding up the combination lock. “Don’t want any more trespassers.”

  Detective Greeley sighed but allowed Levine to accompany him around back. Shannon started for his truck, his hand on my arm.

  “You can follow us in,” Greeley said. “We’re located in Salem.”

  “I know the address, and I have a GPS. We’ll meet you there.” That seemed to satisfy Greeley.

  In the truck, I said to Shannon. “You’re taking this suspect thing a lot better than I thought you would.”

  “Ha.” He put the truck in gear. “We’re not suspects or we’d be going with them. He called my precinct and knows who we are. He’s just trying to remind us that this is his turf.”

  “Who cares whose turf it is as long as someone finds Jenny Vandyke? Do you think the stabbing is related?”

  “I don’t know. If Beckett’s telling the truth, it’s odd that the man chose his house at all. I mean, why there? Either Beckett knows more than he’s letting on or something is going on nearby and that man was simply trying to hide until he could find help.”

  “You mean maybe he was being chased and since Cody wasn’t home to help, he hid from whoever stabbed him.”

  “That’s one explanation. I’m not saying it’s the right one.”

  “I should have touched his things,” I said. There had been no imprints on the man’s coat, but maybe his shirt would have been different, and he might have carried items in his pockets.

  Shannon’s eyes left the road briefly. “You were kind of busy saving his life. We’ll go see him later. The police should keep his things for evidence.”

  “I hope he doesn’t die, especially for Cody’s sake.”

  “Me, too. He might know where Jenny Vandyke is—if the two events are connected.”

  That too. I felt bad for not thinking of the girl first. I hadn’t been called in on her case, but I was beginning to feel responsible.

  We’d reached the paved road, and still the police car had not moved from the house. Probably awaiting the backup deputies speeding toward us. More people to look for evidence.

  “You know what we really need,” Shannon said casually.

  I nodded, meeting his gaze. “For me to touch Jenny Vandyke’s boot.”

  Chapter 4

  Need and want are two very different things. That I needed to touch the boot to see if Jenny had left an imprint didn’t necessarily mean I wanted to touch it. Imprints could be dangerous for me if they were powerful and I got stuck in a loop.

  Imprints were sometimes unreliable because what I saw was always filtered through the experience and perception of the person leaving the imprint. I felt as that individual did at the time the imprint was left, and often he or she lacked knowledge that was key to solving the mystery. Without the ability to see through my own experience, I was limited.

  Regardless, I still needed to read Jenny’s boot. Reading imprints she might have left on something she was wearing at the time of her abduction or going through her room and personal belongings in search of imprints leading up to her disappearance could open up a world of possibilities that the police hadn’t considered. I’d found people who’d left of their own accord, people who had hidden pasts, people who’d been attacked because they followed their dreams, people who’d been held prisoner by others.

  Not all of them did I find in time.

  “You think the police will simply hand over the boot?” I asked. Detective Sergeant Greeley wouldn’t, but thankfully he wasn’t in charge of the entire sheriff’s office.

  Shannon shook his head. “Not without a bit of haggling. That’s why we’re going to see the parents first. Maybe if we have something to offer the deputies in exchange, they’ll be less quick to cry interference and accept our help.”

  “Good idea,” I said, though I doubted we had enough time in a single weekend to prove we’d be useful—especially to convince them of my ability. “If they uncover my relationship to Cody, we’ll be dead in the water. They’ll think my whole purpose is to clear his name.”

  “No way to find that out unless we tell them.”

  “Shouldn’t you call the Marion County sheriff or whoever is in charge of the investigation and let him know you’re interested in lending a hand?”

  “Not until after we see the parents. If he’s as backward as that man Greeley, we’ll be shut down before we get anywhere.”

  We rode in silence for a few minutes, and then I put my hand on his arm. “Thanks for doing this. I know you have enough work at home.”

  “Of course I’d come,” he said. “You have to know. One way or the other.”

  “I guess I do. Especially for Tawnia.”

  “No, for you.”

  I thought of the quilt and the antique lamp. Both should be mine and Tawnia’s one day, complete with the memories they held. A longing for connection filled me. I’d always been attached to history, which was good given that I owned an antiques store, but this history belonged to me in a way nothing else could. Shannon was right. Not only did I want to know but I needed to know. Of Cody himself, I wasn’t sure what to think. I didn’t plan on having any kind of a relationship with him, and yet he also held important memories.

  The truck was slowing. “What are you doing?” I asked, as Shannon pulled over.

  “Going to check the maps on my iPad to see if we can determine roughly where the Vandykes might live, given the general direction Cody gave us in the woods. There’s not much out here. It’s not even really a city. If we can get close enough, we’ll be able to get the exact location from the neighbors.” He paused for the space of two heartbeats. “But I also wanted to do this.” He reached over and pulled me close, surprising me so I didn’t have time to prepare myself for imprints before my hands hit the front of his shirt.

  Fear. Worry. All for me. Strong enough to imprint on his shirt in the passion of the moment. I saw me as he did—brown hair cropped short, with dyed red highlights on top, slightly upturned nose, and eyes, large and oval, the right normally hazel, the left blue. Perfect to him, though I knew they were set slightly too far apart for real beauty. The overpowering urge to act, to save Autumn. The imprint faded, and though I knew it would begin again, it wasn’t uncomfortable enough to pull away. In fact, it was rather flattering.

  His lips met mine, sending sparks that ignited fire in my veins. The world tilted. Then his lips left mine as he pulled me tighter. “You’ve got to learn to feel comfortable with a gun.”

  “I’m fine with a gun. I just don’t want to shoot anyone.”

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “Not even someone who wants to shoot you?”

  “Not even. Look, your gun got me shot the last time, and with my niece growing up, I have to be careful.”

  “You can raise kids with guns. I was raised with guns.”

  Goose bumps arose on my arms even inside my coat. We’d gone from talking about my niece to something far more important. I didn’t know if I was ready. I’d been wanting a relationship, one I’d thought I’d found with my best friend, Jake, but my feelings for Shannon had trumped them, and I realized I’d only chosen Jake because it was easy. Because I trusted him. He knew me almost too well and accepted me exactly the way I was. He didn’t ask too much. With Shannon, life would be a compromise. He would push me to be the best. Our relationship would require effort. I didn’t really care how much work it took, and that scared me even more.

  I kissed him again, slowly, and eased away. He smiled. “I’m being a jerk, aren’t I? About the guns.”

  “
You’re being you. You can’t stop being a police officer.”

  “I guess I can’t. Any more than you can stop being a flower child who hates shoes and refuses to use a microwave.”

  I laughed. “That’s right.”

  “You know what?” His voice became suddenly grave.

  “What.” I hoped he wasn’t going to call it all off—us off—however nicely.

  “I’d probably have starved by now if it weren’t for my microwave.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You and half the world’s population.”

  That easily we were back to normal, exchanging banter that had no barbs as it had during our early days together.

  He reached under the seat and pulled out his iPad. “These emit radiation, you know. Just like that phone the department gave you.”

  “So does the sun.” But that reminded me to turn off the GPS on my phone. When it was on, not only could I find places but Shannon and anyone in his department could find me. I hated feeling like someone was looking over my shoulder all the time.

  “Ah, this might be it.” Shannon pointed to the map on his iPad. “These houses are directly across the woods from Cody Beckett’s unincorporated land. Seems a likely place for the house. Too bad I can’t find an address listing for them.”

  “Maybe you can call your new buddy, Greeley, and ask him for an address.”

  He laughed.

  As Shannon drove to the location, I called Tawnia. My sister answered her cell on the first ring, as though she’d been holding the phone and waiting for my call.

  “Did you see him?” she asked.

  “Hello to you, too. Is the weather as gloomy there as it here? It’s kind of cloudy. Looks like snow’s coming.”

  “Autumn.”

  “Can you put Destiny on? I want to talk to her. Wait, never mind. The radiation from your cell phone probably isn’t good for a baby.” My niece, Destiny Emma Winn, was almost four months old, and I doted on her.

  Shannon laughed out loud.

  “Autumn Rain, I’m going to strangle you. What’s he like?”

  My levity vanished. “He’s like me. He reads imprints. And his eyes are like ours, just like we heard.”

  “What did he say when he saw you?”

  “He told me to get off his property.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I didn’t tell him who I was, and I’m wearing one of those contacts you gave me, so he won’t guess.” Quickly I outlined the rest of the visit to Cody Beckett’s, leaving out both the event at the gas station and the stabbed man. She’d only worry.

  Tawnia made me repeat the bit about the quilt, and I knew she valued it as much as I did. Though she couldn’t read imprints herself, she might be able to create a quilt with similar strong imprints like she had with the drawing she’d given me.

  “So what’s he like?” she asked.

  “Just an old man. A little grumpy. He looks like he’s been out in the sun a lot, and he’s in good shape. Walks a lot. Apparently he owns a hundred acres.”

  “What’s his artwork like?”

  As an artist herself, Tawnia would want to know that. “Big,” I said. “He makes figures out of huge logs. Compelling but kind of strange, too. I took some pictures. I’ll e-mail them in a bit. But I warn you—they aren’t like, well, normal art.”

  “Good.”

  “What?”

  “I like the unusual.”

  If there was one thing my sister did not like it was the unusual. She was someone who planned and organized everything, including every cupboard in the kitchen she tried her best never to use.

  “Speaking of unusual,” I began.

  “No, I haven’t drawn any pictures. Not of a girl or of anything else.”

  Too bad. If she could draw a picture of Jenny Vandyke, maybe that would give us some clue where the girl was or who she might be with.

  “Anyway,” she went on, “I have a project due Monday. My group is pitching a huge company then. If we can get their advertising business, we’ll all receive big bonuses. But Emma woke up with a bit of a fever today, and all I’ve been doing is holding her. She’s miserable. If she’s not better in the morning, I’m taking her to urgent care.”

  Immediately I was worried. Emma—I called her by her first name, Destiny—was the most important person in the world to me after my sister. “Look, you take plenty of those vitamins I gave you so she’ll get them through your milk. And she’s old enough for you to put a little vitamin C directly in your milk, if you express it.”

  “I’m having to anyway—to dump it. She’s not eating very much.”

  “Well, keep trying.”

  We continued talking remedies all the way to what I hoped was the Vandykes’ neighborhood, where Tawnia said suddenly, “What’s he really like, Autumn?”

  I was quiet a moment. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Do you think he did it?”

  Unfortunately, I had to answer. “He could have. I believe he’s hiding something. Sorry.”

  “You don’t need to be sorry. We knew the score going in. I just hoped … well, he was under the influence of drugs when we were conceived, and everyone seems to think he turned over a new leaf after that because he felt so terrible about what happened.”

  Everyone meaning Laina Drexler Walkling, our newly discovered biological grandmother on our mother’s side. But she hadn’t seen Cody in years, so she didn’t really know anything about him now.

  “Maybe he did change. We may turn up something else in our investigation that explains his behavior. We’re going to see the girl’s parents now.” I waited for her usual spiel, warning me to be careful or begging me to let the police do their job, but she held true to her promise to trust me.

  After my last case I’d decided to quit sleuthing altogether because I’d come close to losing both Tawnia and Destiny when my negligence had caused them to become involved. Only her pleas, Shannon’s understanding, and the suspicion against Cody Beckett had convinced me to try again. I still wasn’t sure I would stay in the business. Problem was, I cared about people and I wanted to help them. It was the way I’d been raised.

  Shannon was already outside questioning a woman who was walking her dog when I joined him. “You don’t have the address?” the woman was saying. “If you’re on the case, you should have it.” She tugged on the leash to pull her collie away from me.

  “I am a police detective, but I’m only helping my friend here. She’s been engaged by an outside party to look into the matter.”

  “A private detective?” The woman stared at me with admiration, though it was hard to tell since she wore a heavy coat buttoned up over her chin and a knit hat pulled down over her ears and eyebrows. “It’s about time. Those sheriff’s deputies are getting nowhere on the case. Poor Gail is out of her mind with worry.”

  Shannon nodded in sympathy. “I imagine she is. So can you help us?”

  “Oh, yes. The Vandykes live on the next street over. Second house from the end, across from the little neighborhood park. Huge flowerbeds, though they’ll be covered in this crusty snow. You can’t miss it.”

  I assumed she meant the Vandykes’ house had huge flowerbeds, but she could have been talking about the park.

  “Thank you,” Shannon said.

  We didn’t speak as he drove to the house. Like all the others on the block, it was newly built, and also like all the other houses, earth tones were the color choice. But the Vandyke home was set back a little farther than the rest, and sure enough, there were sizable flowerbeds whose outlines were easily detectible under the snow. The sidewalks had been cleared, though I suspected not by the occupants. Who cared about snow when a child had gone missing?

  We started up the walk, and I prepared myself for both rejection and acceptance. One would slam a door shut to our investigation, but the other would open me to the family’s private grief. Both seemed equally poor outcomes.

  My gloves and antique rings remained in my pocket, so I was ready to rea
d imprints. I touched the doorknob before Shannon rang, but it held no feelings at all. I shook my head at him.

  A woman in her early thirties opened the door. My age. She must have married early to have a fourteen-year-old daughter already. “May I help you?” The fragile skin around her eyes was dark and swollen, and tiny red lines crisscrossed the whites of her eyes. This was a woman who wasn’t getting any sleep and who had been worrying for too long. I’d planned to let Shannon do the talking so I could maintain an aloofness that would protect me during the reading, but who was I fooling? I was either in this or not, and now that I’d seen Jenny’s mother, I knew I wanted to help her even more than I wanted to clear Cody.

  “Are you Gail Vandyke?” I asked. At her nod, I continued, “My name is Autumn Rain. I’ve been hired to look into someone who has been connected to your daughter’s disappearance. I can’t tell you any more than that, but if you’d speak to us, maybe let us see Jenny’s room, we might be able to help.”

  “For a price, I bet.” Bitterness filled her voice, and I wondered how many investigators had contacted her and how many were crackpots who had an odd name like mine.

  “No charge at all to you,” I said.

  Shannon pulled out his badge. “I’m a police detective with the Portland police. I’m helping Autumn, and we hope to be working with the local law enforcement on this. We’ve already been out to see Cody Beckett and have talked with several local deputies.”

  “Mr. Beckett didn’t do this,” Gail said, examining Shannon’s badge. “He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  Bile rose in my throat. Cody hadn’t indicated that he knew the family; if he did, the possibility of his guilt increased. Most children are not abducted by people they don’t know. “So you know Cody Beckett?”

  “Oh, no. Not really. I’m involved in raising money for several local charities, and Mr. Beckett has always supported our causes. One of our board members commented to him once about his generosity, and he said he didn’t have family and couldn’t take it with him, so what was the point of putting it all in the bank?”

 

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