Deadly Setup

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Deadly Setup Page 15

by Annslee Urban


  A couple miles down the road, Seth slowed to a stop behind a row of vehicles waiting at the rail crossing for a freight train to pass. As he sat there, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, his mind bounced through several scenarios.

  With so much seemingly irrefutable evidence against Trey, pulling Gentry into the suspect spotlight would be futile. Brett was right about that. Without concrete evidence, they’d have a hard time convincing the judge and jury.

  Then again, even if his gut suspected that Trey had been framed for Madison’s murder, who was to say Gentry wasn’t now being set up to take the heat for crimes he hadn’t committed? One red flag about Gentry was his behavior. His cocky personality and bad attitude were not easily missed. Unlike the pleasant demeanor he wore around town, he’d put out zero effort in trying to impress Seth or anyone else in law enforcement.

  He was almost begging to be investigated. Was it because he was innocent and there was nothing to hide? Or did he think he was smarter than the average investigator and enjoyed watching them scramble, only to run into brick walls?

  A psychopath’s dream. But was that psychopath Gentry?

  Okay. Enough. Seth took a deep breath, refocusing on the facts they did have. Like the ballistic report from yesterday’s shooting. Ted had finally gotten his hands on a preliminary draft, which answered a lot of Seth’s questions. He wasn’t surprised to learn the shells found at the scene belonged to a Remington 870—a popular hunting shotgun, and in these parts, about as common as the extended-cab white truck they were still looking for.

  Which served to remind Seth what they were dealing with. A cold and deliberate, methodical killer.

  The last of the railcars passed. The clanging bell stopped sounding, and the train-crossing bars started to rise. He drove over the tracks, heading south down the highway toward Cramer’s Antiques. He needed to dig a little deeper into Gentry’s background, and what better character references than his employees?

  As promised, he put a call in to Brett, giving him the heads-up on his plans and also his conversation with Trey. And funny thing, Brett stayed mum on any strides he’d made in the investigation. Seth almost laughed. So much for crime-fighting partners working together—which was why he’d enlisted Ted’s help in tracking down leads and figuring out the depth of Gentry’s financial issues. Ted was a man he could trust.

  If he didn’t know better, he might wonder about Brett and what ulterior motive he might have to see Trey convicted of Madison’s murder. Brett had been Trey’s friend, so why wouldn’t he be pushing to reopen the investigation? Was he that convinced of Trey’s guilt, or was there something more devious going on?

  Seth squashed that last thought. He hated when his brain tried to overreason. Brett was Brett. Stubborn, opinionated, but a good detective. He was focused on Paige’s case and who was behind trying to kill her. And Seth couldn’t discount that. They needed all the help they could get.

  The bell over the door jingled as Seth walked into Cramer’s Antiques. He gave the place a quick scan. It was almost like a museum with its cluttered displays of old and new knickknacks, vintage jewelry and books, and even specialty food items and plants, which were mixed in amid scores of antique furniture.

  Gingerly, he stepped past one of the displays to the old hardwood bar that served as the checkout counter. He took another look around, noticing a sign overhead pointing to the art gallery in the back of the store. As far as merchandise went, this place had it all. Other than that, there wasn’t a person in sight. Not a clerk. Not a customer. Silent.

  Seth was just about to venture toward the back of the store when he heard a slight rustling to his left and then the sound of somebody clearing their throat.

  Stepping forward, Seth peered between two display shelves and saw Eli in the corner of the room unloading a large cardboard box of imported chocolate. Perfect. Just the man he wanted to see.

  “Good afternoon, Eli,” he said walking his way.

  Eli looked up and glanced at Seth, nearly losing his grip on the box he was holding. A flash of alarm flared in his eyes, only fleeting but enough to rouse Seth’s suspicions. Maybe Amy wasn’t the only employee with reservations about talking about their bosses, the Cramers. Which made Seth wonder what kind of fear-based workplace Gentry ran. Oddly enough, in Eli’s case, it was one that seemed to foster employee loyalty.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Garrison?” Eli went back to setting out the boxes on the display. The loyal employee playing it cool.

  Seth came up beside him. “Wow, this is some place. I never would have guessed the variety of merchandise that was here.”

  “Yeah, we try to cover our bases. Carry a little bit of everything.” Eli gestured with the box in his hand. “We’re in the middle of our afternoon lull, so if you’d like to do a little shopping, Sarah is here somewhere and she can show you what we’ve got.”

  “I appreciate that,” Seth said, making a point to look around. “However, I actually stopped by to ask a few questions.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Cramer isn’t here.”

  “That’s fine. If you have a moment, I’d actually like to talk to you.”

  Eli hesitated and then shrugged. “I guess I have a few minutes.”

  “Good.” Seth smiled at him. “So, how long have you worked for the Cramers?”

  Eli took out several more boxes of chocolate. “Twelve years. I grew up working here. Like most of the employees here, I started in my teens.”

  “Must be a good place to work,” Seth said as he reached for a small cast-iron pig on a shelf. “So, you knew the family well? Madison, her mother.”

  “Yes. And Mr. Cramer when he was alive. Great people.”

  Seth fingered the pig figurine in his hand, surprised by its weight. But he was even more surprised when he turned it over and saw the price. Who buys this stuff? Shaking his head, he set it back down. “I guess you know this business well. And now you’re, what? Gentry’s right-hand guy?”

  Eli stopped stacking a moment and shrugged. “You can say that.”

  “So is business going good?” Seth stepped closer. “I know it takes a lot of finesse to run a business like this. Dealing with a variety of vendors, trying to keep on top of the market and working to get the right prices.”

  “It’s a job you have to pay close attention to. Big gains and big losses are part of the game. Sometimes it can be like a roller-coaster ride.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Seth scratched his head. “So where would you say Cramer’s Antiques is on that roller coaster?”

  Eli stopped and stared at Seth, suddenly looking self-conscious. “It’s not really my place to say, Mr. Garrison.”

  “Are you aware if Gentry was having any financial issues?”

  “I’m not privy to Gentry’s personal finances.”

  Seth didn’t miss a beat. “How about Madison? Did she ever confide in you?”

  “About her finances?”

  Seth shrugged. “About anything. Issues with her husband? Issues with her brother?”

  As if reading his mind, a muscle ticked in Eli’s jaw and he stood stock-still, hands on his hips. “I tried to be cordial to you, Mr. Garrison, but I can see that our conversation is going nowhere. If you’re trying to set up Gentry to take the heat for Madison’s murder, you’ll have to get your dirt from some other source.”

  Seth wasn’t that easily deterred, so he threw in, “How about the recent attacks on Paige? Do you think Gentry could have been involved?”

  Eli dropped his arms and squared his shoulders. Full-on attack mode. The man had perfected his intimidator role. “I’m sorry about what’s been going on with Miss Becker, but I have no information that can help you.”

  Seth knew a dead end when he saw one. Eli had shut down. Which was okay—Seth had gotten his message across, that he had his eye on Gentry, and if Gentry had any doubt before about how seriously he was being looked at, he’d know now.

  In the truck, before Seth even cranked the
engine, his phone vibrated. He reached for his pocket and pulled it out. It was Ted. “Hey, buddy, tell me something good.”

  “I think you might want to make a trip down to the station.” Ted’s voice held a serious tone.

  Sounded promising already. Seth straightened up. “What do you have?”

  “A couple out on a walk this morning found a discarded shotgun in the woods beside the condo complex. It’s a Winchester Model 70.”

  “No kidding.” Things were looking up. “Have forensics gotten a hold of it yet?”

  “Yes. It’s a perfect match to bullets that were fired at the condo unit. And they were able to recover a pair of latent fingerprints from the weapon.”

  “Those guys are awesome.”

  “It gets better. The prints were identified as Trey Becker’s.”

  “What?” Seth’s jaw dropped. He twisted the wheel and whipped a quick U-turn. “Ted, I’ll be right there.”

  NINE

  Paige swept through the front door and stepped onto the porch. She hollered for Laser. She’d let him out thirty minutes earlier, and by now he’d usually be scratching to come in. She listened intently, then frowned. Where was that pup? She walked to the end of the porch and called again.

  Leaves rustled, and wind sighed through the branches of the trees, nearly drowning out the sound of a distant yip and growl. Laser.

  What was he up to? Probably chasing a squirrel or deer. Regardless, he was out of earshot and needed to get back to the house. Seth would never forgive her if something happened to his dog on her watch.

  Stepping back inside, Paige popped her head in the kitchen to find Ruby putting away plates from the dishwasher. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to check on Laser. He’s not coming when I call.”

  Ruby eyed her. “That’s fine, but remember he’s partially deaf.”

  Selective hearing seemed a better description. Still, Paige wanted to make sure he hadn’t gotten himself into trouble. She shrugged into her jacket, grabbed Laser’s leash, stepped outside and closed the door. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she hollered one more time, “Laser.”

  She heard a faint bark and more growling coming from the right side of the house. Descending the steps, she zipped up her jacket and took off, following the sloping footpath she and Seth used to take to the small natural pond on the border of the lot.

  Threading her way through the dense brush, the clean, fresh scents of pine and cedar lingering in the air awakened memories of better days. She used to love to walk these woods with Seth, talking and laughing, making plans for their future.

  Before she could get all sentimental, another loud bark came from the direction of the pond. She refocused and picked up her pace. There were plenty of things Laser could get caught up in down there. She recalled fallen trees and old sections of barbed-wire fencing.

  As she hurried the trail began to shrink around her, withering down to a thin, overgrown path. Huge trees towered on either side, keeping the pond well hidden.

  When she hit an area of thornbushes and weeds, she left the path and tore through a thicket of brush, coming out into a muddy field. The picturesque pond appeared, and as she veered toward it, she noticed a truck parked in a dense area of forest.

  Heart quaking, Paige left the small clearing and slipped into the trees. Terror snaked down her spine.

  White, long bed, extended cab. The truck that ran her off the road.

  Abandoned. At least for the moment.

  But she had no delusions that whoever had parked it there had come looking for her. Looking to kill her.

  Protective instincts screamed for Paige to run. To hide. Save herself. But she ordered herself to stay calm. She needed to think. Not be impulsive. Lord, help me.

  Finally her brain kicked into gear. She scanned the area, searching for anyone, any movement. Breathing with relief, she took note of the license tag.

  But something rustled behind her, and she wheeled around, adrenaline surging, her mouth open, ready to scream...and then she saw Laser bound out of the trees.

  A deep breath reset her heartbeat. Dropping into a crouch, she captured Laser in her arms. “Good boy. But no more barking, okay?” she whispered and fastened the leash to his collar, praying the guy wasn’t within earshot.

  She got to her feet. They needed to get out of there, before he came back. She grabbed her cell phone from her coat pocket and took off with Laser into the shelter of the trees. She didn’t bother to call 911, not when Seth was the only person who knew this terrain.

  Pick up. Pick up. There was no time to waste. The truck’s owner could show back up any second. She fought against the stab of stark panic when her call went to voice mail again. “Seth, please get back to the cabin ASAP.” Paige sputtered out details, the words coming a mile a minute.

  Keeping a death grip on Laser’s leash, she wrestled in a breath to fend off the panic as she tried to determine what to do next. The highway. It wasn’t too far, and once they got there she could flag someone down. Terror climbed into her throat as she remembered Ruby was still at the cabin.

  Fumbling with her cell phone, she stopped short, frantically punching in Seth’s home number, grateful she still remembered it. Finally, it started to ring. But the call went straight to the answering machine. She left another message, this time a warning for Ruby.

  “Come on, Laser.” Heart pounding, she pulled on his leash and they both took off, running back in the direction of the cabin. She couldn’t leave Ruby alone to fend off a murderer. Lord, help me and keep Ruby safe, she prayed as she frantically worked to dial 911. She pressed the phone to her ear. The deputies shouldn’t have a problem finding the house. It started to ring. The call dropped.

  No coverage.

  No! Her mind screamed. Seth had always had spotty phone reception out here, the one thing she disliked about this place. Now more than ever.

  At the end of the path, instead of going left toward the cabin, she kept straight, staying deep in the tree line, trying to keep out of sight, even though she’d have to walk twice as far to get to her destination.

  The rustle of leaves, then the thud of booted footsteps hit her ears. She stopped, her breath coming in short spurts. Her eyes darted around her, and she caught a slight flicker of movement in a stand of bushy cedars. She gave Laser’s leash a tug and guided him behind a large oak tree in an area of thick brush praying he wouldn’t make a peep. Heart thudding, she peered through the dense forest. A man dressed in black and gray camo gear stood about fifty yards away near a pile of stacked logs. He shifted his feet, and that’s when she saw the ski mask covering his face and the gun in his hand. Her heart stopped. He appeared to be watching the house. Ready to make his move.

  She froze. Fear exploded in her chest. She was looking at her perpetrator. The man who wanted to kill her.

  Panic crawled up her spine, and she knew she needed to get out of there. But something in the man’s stance or the way he held the gun made her aware that it would only take one wrong move and she’d be dead.

  A threatening growl escaped Laser’s throat. No! Paige cringed. She crouched beside him, rubbed his head, trying to keep him quiet.

  But it was too late.

  The woods fell silent except for the crunch and snapping of twigs under the man’s boots as he stalked toward her, his head moving vigilantly from side to side like a lion on a hunt for his prey.

  A bleak and chilling terror settled over her. This was it.

  He stopped and for a full minute stood just several yards away. Stock-still, chest heaving, still searching.

  Her fingers fisted around the leash as Laser stayed at her side, lips raised in a snarl, ears pinned back. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, a loud whooshing sound that broke up the tense silence.

  Abruptly, the man turned, his solid footsteps moving in the opposite direction, away from her. Her heart danced. He was leaving, hopefully giving up and heading back to his truck.

  Please, Lord. She breathed a sigh of r
elief, and at the same time Laser let loose another growl.

  The man’s retreating footsteps halted, and he swung back around. Before she could get to her feet and bolt out of there, he was standing just two feet away, his cold gray eyes glaring down at her. “Get up on your feet, Paige, and turn around.” The creep had a husky, mumbled drawl, obviously trying to disguise his voice.

  Not waiting for her to respond, he took a step and yanked her by the arm, jerking her to her feet. Paige sucked back a squeal as his grip bit into her arm. “I said on your feet. Now turn around.” He shoved her, turning her away from him.

  Her heart stalled in her chest. The man wanted to kill her, and yet he was too much of a coward to show his face. Even with a mask on.

  Laser jumped and growled in protest beside them. The man grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her toward him. “Get the leash.”

  “It’s okay, Laser.” Paige reached for the leash and handed it to the man, praying he wouldn’t hurt the dog.

  Jerking her upright, the man slung the end around the branch of tree. As Laser strained the leash trying to break free, his barks and growls faded into the wind as the man’s gravelly voice pulsed low in her ear. “You shouldn’t have come back, Paige. Because of you a lot of people have had to suffer.”

  Amy came to mind, but she stayed mum, swallowing the lump of regret crowding her throat. She didn’t want to give him one bit of acknowledgment for what he’d done.

  “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused?”

  Paige bit her lip, tempering the urge to blurt out the truth—that he was the one who was wreaking havoc on the lives of so many.

  “Let’s go.” He shoved her again. “We have a long walk ahead of us.”

  The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She tried to breathe, to keep her heart from beating out of her chest as a terrifying image whipped up in her mind. What did this maniac have planned for her?

  Hysteria took over then, triggering fight-or-flight mode. By pure instinct, she took off in a sprint. She wasn’t going anywhere with him voluntarily.

 

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