Cold Aim

by Janice Cantore

  He pulled her close. “As soon as the stitches are out, the beard comes back.” Oliver hugged her tight and she hugged back. He loved having her close. Now was the time to have the talk that Jim Smith had so rudely interrupted.

  It had been only a day since Jim Smith had held a gun to his head. Oliver knew there was still a lot of dust that needed to settle, but he couldn’t let what he needed to say go unsaid any longer.

  He released Tess and held her at arm’s length, loving the light there in her vivid green eyes. “We need to talk. I wanted to find you yesterday, was on my way to your house when that man came to my door. I still can’t believe I was so gullible.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. That was what he did, conned people. What did you want to talk about?”

  “I wanted to apologize. I’ve been so irritable with you lately, questioning your judgment, giving you a bad time about how you do your job. I realize now, more than ever, how hard that job is. But I confess I was operating a little out of fear.”

  “Fear? You?”

  To Oliver, Tess seemed truly perplexed by his confession. “Yeah, me, afraid. I lost sight of the big picture and I stopped trusting God.” He gripped both of her hands in his. “Yesterday you told me that you loved me. Well, I realized a long time ago that I love you too, Tess. No, let me finish.” He held his hand up when she started to interrupt.

  “You’re such a hard charger, jumping feetfirst into everything. That’s a very appealing quality. But because of everything that happened here the last few days—and before, with the fire—I let fear creep in that I could lose you like I lost Anna.” He pulled her close, noting the mist in her eyes. “But I have to practice what I preach. You’re in God’s hands, and I can’t interfere in the way you do your job. I have to trust, not fear.”

  She freed one hand from his grasp and wiped her eyes before holding on again. “Well, since we’re confessing, I have one of my own to make.”

  “Really?”

  “I had—have, because it’s still lurking—this fear that I can’t truly be good for you because of my career. I can’t be totally devoted to supporting you—”

  He put a finger over her mouth. “Tess, if you think that’s what I want out of a relationship, you’re wrong. I love you because you’re you, and I wouldn’t change a thing.” He pulled her close again, and his heart fluttered when she whispered in his ear.

  “Ditto.”

  And then the inevitable happened: they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

  Tess grinned. “Duty calls.”

  “As usual.” He let her go and she stepped to the front of her desk.

  “Come in.”

  –––

  When the knock on the door came, Tess was expecting Steve Logan. She hadn’t had a chance to tell Oliver about Livie Harp. But it was sure to be big news, and with the cold case crew already in Medford, reviewing evidence there, she knew that she and Steve didn’t have much time to talk to Livie before LAPD arrived in Rogue’s Hollow and put two and two together. Tess didn’t see Livie refusing her and Steve access, but she’d planned to ask Oliver to call and announce that they were coming. Both Tess and Steve wanted Harp/Harrison’s explanation before they turned over what they knew to the LAPD.

  But it wasn’t Steve at the door; it was Sheila.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Chief, but there’s another FBI agent here to see you.”

  Tess frowned. “Not Agent Bass?”

  “No, but he’s from the same office; it’s an Agent Archer.”

  “Okay, send him in.” Tess turned to Oliver. “This can’t take very long. Stick around? I have something I need to tell you.”

  “Sure.” He nodded and took a seat.

  Tess moved back behind her desk as Sheila showed the agent into the office.

  For a minute, Tess was taken aback. This guy was older; he couldn’t have been a regular agent. As she looked closer, there was something familiar about him. And as he smiled and closed the door behind him, horror dawned.

  This was no FBI agent. This was Cyrus Beck.

  50

  “I suggest we all stay calm, Chief.” Beck held up what looked like a garage door remote in his hand. He was a tall man, taller in person than he ever appeared on TV, and he looked well built in the expensive suit he wore. His head was shaved smooth—that was different . . . and probably why it took Tess so long to recognize him. But the face, that sardonically cold expression, was what couldn’t be changed and what gave him away.

  Tess stared at him as Oliver got up and moved quickly behind the desk with her.

  Hand on the butt of her gun, Tess asked, “Why should I stay calm and not arrest you right now?”

  “Keep your hand away from your weapon. Because in my hand I hold a detonator.”

  Tess forced her hand to drop. “Detonator?”

  “Yes. When he arrived here in your neck of the woods, my friend Digger did a favor for me. He packed a rental car with explosives. It’s parked right outside, on your main street, in front of a very busy coffee shop. I press this button and half of your little hamlet goes up in smoke.”

  Tess started to speak, then stopped. Rule #1—LTS—applied here in spades. She doubted Beck had such a sophisticated knowledge of explosives, but then she remembered Steve saying that the man called Digger had been a decorated Vietnam vet. Anything was possible there.

  “Why should I believe you?” she asked.

  “Because I have nothing to lose. You’ve ruined me. My best people are dead. If I blow up your town, you shoot me.” He shrugged. “I win because I stay out of prison.”

  “How can you say that you win by causing the deaths of innocent people?” Oliver asked, clearly disgusted.

  “Because I don’t care about them. At all. You can save those innocent lives, Chief. You and you alone have that power.”

  “How can I do that?”

  “Take me to Roberta. You do, and I’ll give you the detonator. Lives saved, everyone happy.”

  “What about Roberta?”

  “I have a score to settle. Your choice is one death or many.”

  “You can’t expect me to make that choice.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I expect you to do just that. I’ll count to ten. Either you take me to Roberta, or I kill everyone within a one-block radius of my vehicle. Some damage may even occur here. Digger always was one for overkill.” He held the remote up again. “One, two, three . . .”

  Tess listened to him count, a mix of negative emotions choking her, knowing he might well be lying, but realizing that she just couldn’t take that chance. He got as high as eight.

  “Wait.” She put her hand up. “What do you think happens after you settle your score with Roberta? Do you think that you’ll just walk away?”

  “Tess, you can’t.” Oliver gripped her arm.

  “Oh yes, she can,” Beck said. “She’s pragmatic; she can’t have the deaths of thirty or forty people on her head when one will suffice. I expect you’ll try to arrest me. Good luck with that.”

  “You’re crazy, Beck.” Tess’s heart was pounding in her ears, and her thoughts scrambled for a way out of this situation. She could shoot Beck dead right now, but suppose he pushed the button as he fell? Or pushed it in the time it took to unholster her weapon?

  “Maybe I am. Call the woman who has Roberta. Tell her we’re coming; tell her an agent will be with you.”

  He must have seen the shock on Tess’s face because he laughed. “Yes, I know very well you’ve hidden her with some insane prepper. Digger did a lot of what he was good at—he dug up information for me before his unfortunate demise. Just call the woman and don’t do anything to alert her or—” he snapped his fingers—“boom.”

  Tess turned to Oliver. “Call Livie.”

  “Tess . . .”

  “Trust me, Oliver, call her. Tell her we’re coming up to visit and talk to Roberta.” Tess needed time to figure out how to disarm Beck, look for an opening, and only by making him
think he had the upper hand could she do that.

  Oliver took a deep breath. “If you’re sure . . .” He pulled out his phone and called Livie Harp.

  51

  “You can leave your gun belt on,” Beck said with a smirk just before they left Tess’s office. “But turn your radio off, no accidental notifications. I want this jaunt to look perfectly normal and natural. I can press this button faster than I can blink.”

  As she switched her radio off, Tess realized there was no way she could draw her weapon before Beck pushed the button. Part of her wanted to call his bluff, but she could never live with herself if a bomb did, in fact, explode on River Drive. So she walked out of the station with Beck and Oliver, planning, hoping, and praying for an opening.

  Livie was expecting them. Tess had the duration of the drive, maybe fifteen minutes, to figure out a way to get the remote from Beck. He’d already dashed her hope that Livie’s home would be out of range for the remote, telling her that his technology was as advanced as anything used by the US military. Tess knew he could be lying, but she didn’t want to risk innocent lives on it. No, she had to get the remote away from him, eliminate the threat.

  Tess’s phone buzzed as she, Oliver, and Beck left the station. She looked at the caller ID. It was Steve.

  Beck gripped her arm. “I suggest you answer it, on speakerphone.”

  “I think I should just let it go to voice mail, safer that way.” She held his gaze. He relented.

  “For the sake of your town, I hope you’re right.”

  The buzzing stopped; then the phone chimed with a voice mail. Tess put it in her pocket.

  They reached her SUV. Beck climbed in back. “Better to watch the both of you,” he said.

  Oliver took the front passenger seat.

  Tess drove out of the lot, mind whirring. Beck hadn’t disarmed her; she supposed he figured the threat of the remote would keep her from shooting him. He was right on that count. And other than the remote, she couldn’t see that Beck had any weapons on him.

  She drove slowly, stalling. Hoping Steve would be perplexed by her not answering. They were supposed to be contacting Harp together today. What would he do if he thought Tess had stood him up? She prayed that he’d think something was wrong and do something to throw Beck off-balance. She glanced at Oliver on her right. She knew he was praying as well, and that gave her hope and, surprisingly, peace.

  Who said a cop and pastor wouldn’t make a good team?

  They reached the gate. Tess pressed the intercom and announced their arrival. The gate swung open. As Tess drove through, she remembered the cameras; they were everywhere. Was Harp watching? She knew who Cyrus Beck was. Would she recognize him and be ready?

  I have to grab that remote.

  “When we get there, you and the pastor walk in front of me. I won’t hesitate to push this button if either of you do anything I don’t like.”

  Tess said nothing, just nodded. They reached the front of the house and she parked. Oliver climbed out first. Tess followed and walked around to the passenger side. She caught his glance for a brief second, and in that look, she knew he would follow her lead. Whatever she decided to do, he’d be with her.

  Beck climbed out. He pointed at her with the remote. “Now, hand me your weapon, very carefully, Chief.”

  “What?”

  “Tsk, tsk, you didn’t think I would leave you armed?” He held his free hand out. “Carefully now.”

  Tess stared at him for a moment. Finally she unsnapped the holster and drew her weapon. She placed it in his hand.

  “There, wasn’t that easy?” He sneered. “I’ve covered all bases. Now—” he gestured with the remote—“let’s get going. You first.”

  Tess and Oliver walked up the stairs to the front door. The door was partway open. Tess grabbed the knob, pushed the door fully open.

  “Livie? It’s Chief O’Rourke.” She stepped over the threshold. All three of them entered the house. The room was empty.

  “You warned them!” Beck shoved between Oliver and Tess, furious. “You warned them! How did you do that?”

  “You heard Oliver when he called. He told them nothing but what you wanted said.” Tess’s eyes were on the remote. Dare she call his bluff?

  He waved the gun around, and with the remote in one hand and the gun in the other, he stepped to the middle of the empty room.

  “Roberta! Come out from wherever you’re hiding. It’s time to pay for what you did. I swear you’ll never get away from me!”

  When there was no response, he turned back to Tess, fury in his eyes. “You just killed half your town!” He squeezed the button on the remote with a flourish.

  For Tess, time stopped. She felt as if her head would explode in horror. There was no way to know right at that moment what had happened in downtown Rogue’s Hollow, but she knew she had to stop Beck cold now. He was mad with rage, and she was unarmed, so she went with the unexpected.

  Tess jerked her baton from the ring. Beck raised her gun to fire. She stepped to the side and brought the baton down hard on Beck’s wrist. He howled even as he squeezed the trigger. The gun fired into the floor and then flew from Beck’s hand, clattering down on the floor with the remote. He bent down, cradling his injured wrist.

  “You broke it.” He looked up, fury in his eyes. “You’ll pay—I swear you will pay.”

  It took all of Tess’s restraint not to smack him again. She quickly replaced the baton in its ring and stepped forward. Grabbing hold of his uninjured forearm, she jerked it toward her, causing a howl; then she bent the wrist and twisted it back in a textbook wrist lock, spinning him forcefully face-first into the wall so she could apply the handcuffs, even as he hollered.

  “I will not stay behind bars, I promise you.”

  Tess applied the cuffs quickly and roughly, mind overcome with dread about what had happened in downtown Rogue’s Hollow.

  “It’s over, Beck, and you are the one who will pay for what you just did. You are under arrest.”

  He cursed. “If it’s the last thing I do, ahh . . .”

  Tess ignored him and locked the cuffs in place, her focus now shifting to her radio so she could find out what had happened in the Hollow.

  “Darn right, it’s over.”

  Tess, grip tight on Beck’s upper arm, stepped back and turned. Livie Harp stood there, shotgun up and ready.

  “Move out of the way, Chief. It’s time to end this for good. And you, Pastor Mac, stay back.”

  Reflex made Tess step in front of Beck. “Livie, no, don’t. There’s no reason to do this. He’s a threat no longer.”

  “As long as he’s breathing, he’s a threat.” Harp tried to move around, get a clear shot at Beck.

  Tess moved with her, blocking the shot, a fleeting thought crossing her mind: My dad died protecting an innocent woman. Do I want to die protecting evil?

  52

  Harp had fury in her eyes and a death grip on her shotgun. Tess scrambled, knowing that she had to derail the anger, defuse the moment.

  “I can’t let you kill him. He deserves to be in a cage.” She put a hand up. “Surely you can see that will be worse than a quick death, Heather.”

  Harp’s glare flipped from Beck to Tess. “What did you call me?”

  “Heather. That’s your name, isn’t it? Heather Harrison.”

  Tess saw surprise flicker across the woman’s face and her resolve waver. In her periphery, she also saw shock hit Oliver.

  “I haven’t been her for a long time. She was stolen from me—by him, by Porter Cross. You could say that they killed her. Cross met his end, but he—” she jammed the gun toward Beck—“he deserves to die for that and for so many other crimes.”

  Tess held her hands up, making certain that she blocked the shot. Oliver had picked up the remote and her gun. Tess shot him a glance, hoping he understood that she wanted him to stay back, not to try anything.

  Her concentration returned to Harp. “No, he deserves to rot in prison
. Killing him now, like this, will put you in prison. That would be wrong.”

  “If you know my name, then you know I’ve been blamed for something a man like him did. So either way, I’m going to jail. Might as well make the trip worth it.”

  “No, Livie.”

  Harp’s attention shifted. Steve Logan stood in the doorway. Behind him, two unfamiliar, older men.

  “We know you had nothing to do with Isaac Pink’s death. We can clear your name, but not if you shoot Beck like this, in cold blood.”

  Tess watched the indecision seep in as Harp turned back her way. The shotgun lowered slightly. Steve stepped into the house; the two men stayed in the doorway.

  “These are LAPD detectives. They have evidence. They know you didn’t kill Isaac Pink. Come on—the other day you were the hero. Don’t throw that away for the likes of Cyrus Beck.” He kept coming slowly and put a hand on the shotgun. “Let it go, Livie.”

  The two stared at one another for a long moment, until finally Livie released the gun. She turned away, tears streaming down her face.

  Tess jerked Beck toward the door with one hand and turned on her radio with the other.

  “Did you just come through town?” she asked Steve, turning up her radio, listening for emergency traffic.

  “Yeah, I did. Sheila told us you were out here. What’s going on?”

  Oliver stepped forward. “There was no explosion?”

  “No, not that I heard.” Steve frowned. “Why?”

  Tess felt her gut unclench. It had been a bluff. She told Steve about Beck’s threat.

  “If there are explosives in a rental car, they didn’t detonate.”

  “Thank God,” Tess said. “Can you secure him in my car while I contact Gabe?”

  Steve nodded. “We’ll need to get the bomb squad out just in case.” He took Beck by the arm and jerked him to the front door.

  As he passed the LAPD officers, he said, “These are Investigators Flores and Black. They’ve been waiting a long time to talk to Livie—er, Heather.”