Cold Aim

by Janice Cantore

  “Chief.”

  Tess turned. Henry Polk wanted her attention.

  “What is it?”

  “I hate to interrupt, but I wanted to talk to you about Ken Blakely. He’s been staying here in the park, even though I told him that we have rules about subletting—”

  “Staying here? Where?”

  “The other side of the park, space 40, Ron Nelson’s place. Ron’s in Arizona taking care of a sick relative. Blakely’s been there too long—he was just there a little while ago, but he wouldn’t answer the door.”

  “Maybe he’s got her there now.” Garrett started to leave.

  “Now you’re saying you believe Blakely would kidnap Janie?”

  Garrett threw his hands up. “I don’t know what to believe. All I know is that he threatened me. He wanted me to pay him back from the insurance money, but I told him that Janie would never let that happen. I have to go check and see if he’s got her.”

  Tess stopped him. “No, you stay here in case Janie calls and we’re worried for no reason. Gabe, anything from Curtis?”

  “Truck checks out fine, still locked up. And, Chief?” He glanced toward Garrett.

  “Yeah?”

  “He called her cell phone. It’s on the front seat of the truck.”

  Garrett moaned, and Tess looked away and clenched a fist. That meant no GPS. And it seemed nearly impossible for Garrett to have done anything to his wife but leave their only transportation in the Walmart parking lot. Would Ken Blakely really hurt Janie Cooper?

  “Curtis is looking through the security video now,” Bender finished.

  “Thanks. Stay here. I’ll go check this other mobile home out.” She turned to Polk. “How long ago was he in Nelson’s place?”

  Polk looked at his watch. “Hour, maybe.”

  “Space 40 is at the edge of the park, correct?”

  Polk nodded. “I’ll take you over there.”

  “I’ll find it.”

  “Well, take the key if you need to look inside. Ron gave me permission to do that.” Polk handed her a key with a plastic tag on it. Written on the tag was the name Nelson.

  “Wait, I’ll go with you.” Oliver spoke up. He handed the little girl, who had fallen asleep in his arms, gently back to Garrett.

  Tess fought the niggle of irritation that flamed up because he’d known this secret of Garrett’s and not shared it with her. Was it his obligation to share, or was she taking this personally?

  “Stay here, Garrett. I mean it. You have that baby to think of.”

  Tess glanced at Oliver and got in her SUV to drive to space 40. He settled into the passenger seat.

  “You’re angry I didn’t share Garrett’s secret with you,” Oliver said.

  Tess started the engine and drew in a breath, then let it out slowly. He could always read her, especially when she didn’t want him to. “I shouldn’t be.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I never thought he’d do anything so stupid as to get involved with Ken Blakely.”

  “Hmmph” was all Tess could think of to say. Another bit of guilt stabbed. She should have done more to help Yarrow with Blakely.

  They approached space 40. There was no vehicle in the small carport. Tess parked in front and got out, attention fully on the mobile and not on Oliver, who’d gotten out and moved to stand next to her.

  Blakely had a new truck. Tess had seen him driving it around town in recent weeks. But the truck was nowhere near the space. She knew this end of the park backed up to the forest and could see there was a small shed in the back of the space.

  “Wait here,” she said to Oliver as she stepped up to try the door. Locked.

  She went around the back and headed toward the small storage shed. She could see the front bumper of a vehicle peeking out from behind the shed. She walked to it and saw a utility vehicle, a Polaris RZR, painted in camouflage, something a lot of hunters used. Alarm bells went off. What was it Victor had said when the search for the gunman had ended? “There was a small vehicle here, maybe an ATV. . . .”

  Tess inspected the machine and found it was wet and muddy. She placed a hand on the motor area. Still a little warm. There was also something on the passenger seat. Blood. But if Blakely was a poacher, it could be animal blood. Then again, it could also be Janie Cooper’s blood. Why would Blakely snatch her and keep her alive when she could identify him?

  She returned to the front of the mobile, conscious of Oliver’s gaze on her.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “That I need to get a look inside this mobile.” Tess knew she had grounds to enter, even without Polk and his permission. But she was afraid of what she’d find. Worst-case scenario, Janie Cooper could be dead on the floor. She found herself hoping the place was empty.

  She climbed up the three steps and knocked on the door. “Hello? Anyone here? This is Chief O’Rourke. I have a key; I’m coming in.”

  She waited, listening and hearing nothing. Tess turned to Oliver as she unsnapped her weapon. “Stand back, Oliver.”

  He looked every bit as concerned as she felt, but he stepped back.

  Tess slipped the key in the lock and opened the door. Something was in the way and she pushed harder, heart pounding as she stepped up and into the mobile. She saw the legs first, in camouflage pants; then her gaze traveled up to the body that was too stocky to be Janie Cooper.

  Tess leaned down and moved the pillows. Ken Blakely’s sightless eye stared back up at her, a halo of blood around his head.

  38

  Ice made it to the airport without any trouble.

  He texted Digger, who directed him to the proper entrance and hangar. A shiny Gulfstream waited, half in the hangar and half out.

  “Nice ride,” Ice whispered to himself, freezing again and vowing that it would be the last time he’d ever be this cold.

  Ice had driven Camo Guy’s truck to the Maple Leaf in Shady Cove. He half expected cops to be converged on the area, but they weren’t. With just a couple of cars in the lot, there was no indication that anybody was onto him. He’d thought to exchange the truck for his motorcycle if he could get to it. It had stopped raining, but it was still cold. He was loath to give up the big, warm, powerful vehicle, but the truck would tie him to Camo Guy. He’d pulled through the lot and parked the truck in the last hotel space, near the restaurant lot next door. He then wiped everything down and left the truck, keys in the console.

  Now at the hangar, he climbed off the bike and then up the stairs into the plane. The first thing that caught his eye was the table filled with food—bread, meats, cheeses, and a plate of pastries. Ice’s stomach growled, reminding him he’d not had anything to eat for hours. He resisted the urge to grab something, wanting to determine Digger’s mood first. Digger always reflected Cyrus. The two were generally joined at the hip.

  Digger was seated, watching the news on TV, drinking what Royal guessed was champagne. He turned to Ice and frowned. “What happened to your face?”

  Sighing, Ice took a seat across from Digger, his back to the TV, and he explained everything that had happened, making certain Digger understood that the tremendous failure was with Gage. He ended with his escape, never mentioning the Camo Man because he just wasn’t relevant anymore. As Camo Man had turned to leave the mobile, Ice took his only chance. His right arm snaked around the shorter man’s neck, and he locked in the hold tight by gripping his right hand with his left hand, right bicep and forearm pinching off the carotid arteries, cutting off the blood supply to the guy’s brain.

  Camo Man had struggled, and Ice was thrown back against the hallway wall. It hurt so much to hold the big, stocky man that tears came to Royal’s eyes. But the struggle was over in a few minutes, and Ice dropped the man, unconscious, in the narrow hallway.

  Breathing hard, his whole body a study in pain, Ice had grabbed a couple of pillows and put them over Camo Man’s head. He fired twice. He then sat back, resting on one knee, wiping his eyes, waiting for the pain to subside, hopin
g no one had heard the muffled shots.

  Wincing from what he was sure was at least one busted rib, Ice had grabbed the dead man’s keys, stepping over the body and pausing to look around outside the door. The mobile home park had been quiet when he left.

  Digger listened, but from time to time he glanced at the TV and away from Ice. He didn’t ask any questions.

  When he finished, Ice waited for an outburst, for cursing, anything. But Digger was calm, collected, almost detached.

  “Chevy is still there? Still in that small town?”

  “I guess, unless Bass has moved her. In any event, I don’t think she’ll be there much longer.”

  Digger nodded thoughtfully and sipped his drink. “Cy had to take this chance,” he said. “Sorry about Gage, but it really doesn’t matter.”

  Ice let that sink in because he knew that was how it was with Cyrus. He’d learned years ago, after his first operation for Boss Cross, that everyone was expendable. And like Cross, the only person who truly mattered to Cyrus was Cyrus. That was why having enough money to disappear somewhere peaceful and quiet was so important to Ice. He was the only one he could count on to watch his own back.

  “Any chance you were identified?”

  “No, of course not, but things are hot right now.”

  “They won’t be for long.”

  The statement took Ice aback. “Why?”

  “Because things are happening quickly.” He sipped his drink and held Ice’s gaze. “We’ll get Chevy and pay her back for her treachery, no matter what.”

  Ice started to speak but stopped himself. No one wanted revenge more than he did. But it was too hot to go charging right back in to get her now. He could wait for the perfect time, not rush things, wait until everyone’s guard was down, but he knew that Cyrus could not. Right now, Royal was tired, hungry, and aggravated. He’d keep his thoughts to himself for the time being.

  Digger had turned the sound up on the TV.

  “Grab something to eat,” he said. “A very important story is breaking. Hurry, then come join me and watch.”

  Royal didn’t need to be asked twice. He grabbed some bread and made himself a thick sandwich.

  “Watch the television,” Digger ordered as Royal took his first big bite.

  Curious, Royal obeyed. Mouth full, Royal stopped midchew and stared at the set. The newscast was switching to a press conference. Royal recognized Agent Bass as he stepped up to a bank of microphones.

  He started with a lot of legalese, something about a judge’s determination about some evidence, so Royal continued eating. As Ice finished the first half of his sandwich, Digger shocked him still.

  “The ankle monitoring has hereby been revoked. Cyrus Beck has twenty-four hours to turn himself in, or he will be remanded to custody.”

  Royal swallowed and turned to Digger, who grinned broadly. “That’s a bad thing, isn’t it?”

  “It would be if Cyrus had hung around. The monitor is long gone; so is Cyrus. The Feds are behind us by twenty-four hours. We’ll clean up this mess and join him.”

  “We?” Royal asked.

  Digger stood and looked at Royal. “Yes. Cyrus gave me instructions for a big finale here. We will not fail, and that brat will not live to trouble Cyrus another day.”

  39

  The shock didn’t end when Tess stepped back out of the mobile home. Her phone rang, and she saw it was Agent Bass. What he had to tell her was beyond disturbing.

  “Cyrus Beck is to be remanded to custody in the morning.”

  “That’s good news, isn’t it?”

  “It should be. His lawyers were trying to get everything thrown out, but the judge ruled on the possible Miranda violation, granting us a good faith exclusion. Then we broke the encryption on every file on the tablet. I called for an emergency hearing. The money and resources Beck has overseas make him a flight risk.”

  “So why do you sound as if you lost? This is great news.”

  “We’re on our way to Beck’s now. There are indications that he disabled the ankle monitor. Chief, I believe he already fled the coop—maybe a couple of days ago. If he did, it’s probably to a country with no extradition treaty.”

  She couldn’t believe her tired ears. The body of Ken Blakely was a bad enough end to her day. This was like a bad horror movie where nothing would kill the ax murderer.

  “What about Chevy?” Tess asked, conscious that Oliver was waiting to hear what was being said.

  It took a few seconds for Bass to respond. “We’re going to have to move her,” he said. “I can’t think that she’s in any further danger because of this. But she has to be moved. I’m scrambling. Sergeant Logan called and filled me in on everything going on up there. I saw the fake ID. That was Charlie Gage who tried to take Chevy; he’s well-known to us. And known to associate with Beck.”

  “Chevy also said that she recognized him as working for Beck. And the man we’re looking for—she called him Ice, says he works for Cyrus. Do you know anything about him?”

  “I’d sure like to talk to that Ice. I think he’s the Piper I told you about. I’m sending an agent up there to help you with the search and to explain this turn of events to Chevy. Listen, I know you have your hands full . . .”

  Tess got the drift. “I’ll call Bronwyn, see if she’ll hang on to Chevy at least until the second gunman is in custody.”

  “Or until my agent is up there. We may have a place to move her by then. Are you okay with that?”

  “I’ll have to be. When will your agent be here?”

  “He’s on his way. Name’s Wally Ferguson. He’s sharp.”

  They disconnected, and Tess told Oliver what he’d said.

  Oliver brought a hand to his mouth in dismay. His breath appeared as puffs of vapor in the cold air. His concern was genuine—Tess knew him well enough to understand that. Pain rippled through her. In spite of the irritation and the bumps lately, she loved this guy, his heart, his commitment to people. Was there any hope for their relationship? Were they truly good for one another?

  “At least they’re going to find another place for her,” Oliver said. “That’s something anyway.”

  Tess nodded and swallowed her emotions about their relationship.

  “I’ll call Bronwyn for you if that’s okay. You have a lot more pressing things to be concerned with.”

  “Thank you.” Tess started to say something else—she so wanted to clear the air between them—but Bender asked for her on the radio.

  “Curtis reviewed what he could of camera footage covering the parking lot and the entrance Janie always used. She never entered the store.”

  “Is her car in camera range?”

  “Yeah, she parks and gets out of it as another truck pulls next to her. The other driver stays out of camera range, probably says something to her. She climbs into the other truck and they’re gone out the north driveway.”

  The phone felt cold in her hand. “Blakely?”

  “I’d say yes, but there’s nothing clearly identifying him or the truck. It looks like his truck, but I don’t have to tell you how popular that model is around here. The license plate is obscured. He knew how to avoid the camera.”

  Tess wanted to pound something. Janie leaving her children for another man—that made no sense to Tess. All her instincts screamed against it. But what would Blakely say to get Janie in the truck with him so easily? He could have threatened the kids.

  “Find anything at the mobile?” Bender asked.

  “Blakely, dead, execution-style.”

  “He bought it in there?”

  “Yes, I believe he was killed here.”

  “Wow, you thinking he rescued our shooter and got a bullet for his trouble?”

  “I am. But where does that leave Janie?” She looked back at the mobile. Exigent circumstances. “I’ve got to do a quick sweep of the mobile, see if Janie is inside.” Part of her hoped she wasn’t because if she were, she’d most likely be dead.

  “Want me
over there?”

  “No, stay there. I’ll stay connected.”

  Tess opened the mobile, stepped up and over Blakely. “Janie, Janie Cooper, are you here?”

  As quick as she could, she walked through the place. “It’s quiet as a tomb,” she said to Bender. She saw a lot of stuff she’d want to go through later, but no Janie. She was on her way back out when a strap caught her eye. Holstering her gun, Tess stepped into the kitchen and knelt down. “There’s a purse under the table.”

  “Janie’s?”

  Tess opened it up, pulled out a wallet, and saw Janie Cooper’s smiling face on the ODL.

  “Yep, it is.” Dread enveloped her like a thick fog. She left the purse and made her way out of the mobile home.

  “I’ll need Jonkey here, early, to come stand by until the coroner arrives.”

  “10-4, I’ll send her there.”

  “How is Garrett holding up?”

  “I didn’t tell him what I told you. His sister is here with him, and the friend who had the boys just came and picked up the little girl as well. What do you want me to tell him?”

  “If Blakely had Janie, where would he take her?”

  “I’ll ask.”

  Tess considered her officer. He had to be as exhausted as she was. But she knew that like her, he’d probably want to see this through. Good cops were that way about their jobs, and Gabe was a good cop. Briefly she wondered if they’d need more help. She’d called in two officers, Del Jeffers and Sergeant Curtis Pounder, to help with the perimeter for the shooter at Faith’s Place. Del she’d released earlier because it was his day off, but Curtis had stayed on because he had simply been called in early for his shift. Now he was handling calls for service. Since the sheriff’s department was running point on the shooting at Faith’s Place, she hadn’t thought that she would need any other personnel. Ken Blakely’s murder was related to the shooting at Faith’s Place, she was sure, so they would step in. Calling in another officer would severely strain her staffing for the next week. No, she and Bender would have to see this through.

  Like earlier, Tess thought, they needed to know where to search before they could mount an effective effort.