Izzy nods, and on unsteady feet, she stumbles into the restaurant. I wait until the door closes before I investigate my truck. On the hood is a dead raven and on the door is a hand-painted message.
“You’re too late.”
I pull out my phone and dial the Sheriff’s Office. Deputy Dalton answers on the first ring. “Sheriff’s Office, this is—”
“Lucy, it’s the sheriff. I need you to call those FBI agents and have them come to Time to Steak It.”
Lucy laughs. “You need dinner companions, Sheriff?”
“No,” I reply, grimly. “The killer’s left me a present.”
“Jesus! Doing it now, Sheriff. Agent Argos is still here.”
“Good. I’ll wait.”
As I place my cell back in my pocket, the door to the restaurant bursts open and Dane barrels toward me.
“Hold it right here, Reynolds,” I bark out holding up a hand.
Dane circles the truck, not coming any closer, but so he can read the passenger side door. “Fuck,” he growls, hands on his hips, lips turned down in a grimace. Dane nods once and turns, walking back to the restaurant.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
He stops and points toward the restaurant. “My woman is in there. I don’t want her anywhere near this.”
I nod once, and he continues on his path.
There are many things I dislike about Dane Reynolds, but the way he treats his wife that’s not one of them. He protects her furiously, and God help any man who comes between him and what he loves.
Carlos
Izzy is pressed against me. I’m driving her back to Dane Reynolds’ home. It’s not where I want to take her, and she’s been silent the entire drive. Occasionally, she squeezes my thigh, the only real reminder she’s here in my truck with me. I don’t like silence. Izzy typically prattles on about something, and I enjoy the sound of her voice.
I pull the cruiser into the circular driveway of the Reynolds’ property. Their home is a three-story house with wraparound verandas on every level. I have no doubt some of the Savage Angels MC’s dirty money paid for a lot of it, but I have never been able to pin anything on Dane or his MC, and it’s not for lack of trying.
Izzy scoots over to her side of the cruiser, opens the door and gets out. I open my door, but Izzy is halfway up the stairs to the Reynolds’ house before I’m even out the cruiser.
“Izzy,” I say loudly.
She pauses and waits at the top of the stairs, staring down at me. “I need to get inside, Carlos. It’s late.”
I take the stairs two at a time, and when I reach her, I place my hands on her shoulders. Izzy doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t react either.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she replies flatly.
“Izzy? Come on, give me something.”
She sighs and drops her gaze to my chest. “That guy, the killer, he knew you were there. He’s following you. I don’t want to get involved with someone who’s not going to be here next week. Been there, done that.”
“Hey, hey, hey! I’m not your ex. I’m not going anywhere.”
A single tear slowly falls down her cheek. I let my hands rub up and down her arms. After a minute with tears in her eyes, she looks at me. “Promise.”
“I promise.”
“No. Promise me you’re not going to get yourself killed. Promise me you’re going to be here tomorrow, next week, next month. Hell, next year!”
I crush her to my chest, inhaling her scent, and hold her until the tears and shaking stop. Then in a quiet voice, I say, “I can’t see into the future, but Isabel, I can promise you, I’ll never leave you. This guy, he isn’t interested in me. That stunt tonight was meant to incite fear.”
“It worked.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I can see that. Don’t let this douchebag get to you. He’s getting sloppy, he’ll make a mistake. The FBI is in town, and between them and my department, we’ll get him.”
Izzy wraps her arms around me. “Okay, I’ll try. But I need you to keep breathing.” I chuckle again and lean back to look at her. “Do you want to come in?”
I sigh and drop my forehead to hers. “Sorry, I can’t. Gotta get back to the crime scene and return the cruiser.”
“Yeah… guess the FBI doesn’t wait.”
I kiss her forehead. “Yeah, you got that right.”
I walk down two steps.
“Hey!”
I look back at Izzy with a questioning look on my face.
“You owe me.”
“I do?”
“Uh-huh. I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.”
I jog back up the steps, grab her around the waist, and dip her. Izzy squeals, and I kiss her between laughter, smiles, and her fake protests.
“Stop,” she yells.
“Shh… you’ll wake the—”
The front door bursts open and standing there shirtless is a pissed-off looking Dane Reynolds. It takes him a moment to realize it’s me, and his face morphs into a grin. “Sheriff, keep it down.” He half shuts the door then re-opens it. “And carry on.”
Izzy bursts out laughing. I straighten her up, kiss her on the nose, and jog toward the cruiser.
“You still owe me, Sheriff.”
I open the cruiser door and smile. “You got that right.”
When I get back to Time to Steak It, there are deputies, CSI, and FBI everywhere. It looks like a three-ring circus. I get out of the cruiser and walk toward Deputy Dalton.
“Hey, Sheriff, Agent Argos was looking for you. I think she’s inside the restaurant interviewing the customers. She’s angry you let some of them go home.”
“Yeah, I figured she would be.” I nod at my deputy and jog inside.
I know I should have kept everyone at the restaurant, but I wanted to get Izzy away from the madness, and Kat Saunders has had enough of the crazy-train spotlight in the past. Seems that woman attracts crazies like bees to a flower.
The moment I open the door, I’m met with people who just want to go home.
“Sheriff! Thank the gods you’re here. These FBI people won’t let us leave,” says a middle-aged man whose name I can’t remember.
I’m used to covering my lapse in memory with names. I smile big at him and hold my hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. But you know the FBI.” I nod at him, and he nods back. “As soon as they give the all-clear, you will be the first to go, I promise.”
The man grins broadly at me and looks at his dinner date who I assume is his wife. “See I told you the sheriff could handle this.”
I grin at her, but she has her lips pressed together in a firm line. I’m thinking she’s not so easily fooled.
“Uh-huh, and that’s why he took his date home,” she replies sarcastically.
I quickly do an about-face and go in search of Special Agent Argos, who’s in deep conversation with the restaurant manager.
She sees me walking toward her and politely excuses herself from the man. “You let the Savage Angels and God knows who else go home?”
“They aren’t involved, and I have all their names if you want to question them.”
Argos narrows her gaze at me and frowns deeply. “The unknown subject, or unsub, is following you. We need to get a protection detail on you.”
“No. He’s taunting us, and I might be your best lead to catch him. What he did here tonight is bold. Someone could have seen him. The man is deconstructing and losing it.”
“That’s what we think, too, but still he left that calling card for you, Sheriff. Make sure you’re careful.”
I nod. “Will do. How long are you going to keep everyone here?”
“We’ve spoken to everyone now. So far, no one saw anything. I’ll be needing the names of those you let go, but I think we can wrap it up. Your truck will need to be impounded for the moment to make sure we’ve got everything. You’re going to have a boatload of messages in the morning. You have fun answering all of them, Sheriff.”
I nod, and Argos moves away from me. One of my deputies looks at me questioningly, and I move toward him. It’s time to let everyone head home.
Carlos
As promised, I’m sitting behind my desk returning all the calls from the townsfolk. I spread out all the messages. There are twenty of them and it seems they all want to speak to me personally. I do a cursory read over each one putting them in what I consider the most important to the least. Not that it’s going to make any difference, I’ll need to call them all back eventually. The last message I look at is from Captain Carland from Black Ridge, Zeke Russo’s hometown. He’s taken over as sheriff
temporarily until the town holds an election. Carland is a state trooper but the previous sheriff was dirty, from all accounts he’s an honest man.
The only reason I even know all of this is he called me to ask about Zeke and to make sure he did reside here. I decide he’s the most important out of the twenty and dial the number.
“Black Ridge Sheriff’s Department. How may we help you?”
“This is Sheriff Morales from Tourmaline, I’m returning Captain Carland’s call.”
“Hold, please.”
I let myself lean back in my chair and twirl a paperclip absently in my fingers. The hold music is some old country song, no doubt a leftover from the last sheriff. I close my eyes and listen to the singer mourn his long-lost love.
“Captain Carland here,” booms the man, and I rock forward, my paperclip goes flying, and I realize I’d nearly fallen asleep.
Flustered, I stutter, “S-Sheriff Carlos Morales returning your call.”
“Ah… right! Hang on, Sheriff. Let me go into my office and shut the door.”
I can hear him walking and voices in the background, but I’m unable to hear them clearly.
“Sheriff, it would seem we have a problem here in Black Ridge, and I need to know all you know about Zeke Russo.”
“I think I’ve given you all the information I have on him. What’s he done now?”
“Need to know, Sheriff, need to know.”
I sigh and place my elbows on my desk. “Come on, Captain. It’s a two-way street. You’ve got to give a little to get a little.”
The man makes a tutting noise on the other end of the phone but remains quiet. It’s an old game, he who speaks first loses, but I am not in the mood. I wait and count to ten. He isn’t going to budge, and I’ve had a shit few days, so I’m not going to play.
“It was nice talking to you, Captain. You have a nice day.”
I hang up and pick up my next message. The Mayor of Tourmaline, Justice Leaverton, is the second on my list. I’m about to dial him when my intercom goes off, so I hit the button.
“What now, Lucy?”
“There’s a Captain Carland on the line for you.”
So, the Captain wants to talk to me, after all.
“Put him through.”
There’s a loud beeping noise before Carland is put through.
“Captain? What can I do for you?”
“I don’t appreciate you hanging up on me, Sheriff.”
“Captain Carland, I’m in a world of hurt here. I’ve got a serial killer on the loose, FBI crawling up every orifice I’ve got, and a town full of scared citizens. And to top it all off, I’ve got a town meeting tonight where I’m sure I’m going to get blasted for this fucking psycho. So, either share the love, so to speak, or let me get on with my shitty day.”
It isn’t like me to let my emotions get the best of me, but I have unloaded all my problems onto the captain. His intake of breath surprises me, and I’m immediately regretful. “Damn, I’m sorry, Captain. I shouldn’t have said all that.”
“Call me, Ronald. And I think my problem may be your problem.”
“Roland, I’m not following.”
“The mine that Zeke Russo found his fiancée in? We found three dead women in there and dead birds hanging on a wall with the words ‘You’re too late’ written under them. The whole thing made my skin crawl.”
Instantly I stand and open my door. Deputy Dalton looks up from her desk at the front of the station. I place my hand over the mouthpiece and state, “Get Special Agent Argos.”
Lucy nods and jogs past me to the room where the FBI has taken over.
“Ronald, I’m going to put you on speaker. Would you mind telling Special Agent Argos what you’ve just told me.”
“Shit, Carlos. If it means I get to pass this fiasco off to someone else, I’ll talk to the Pope himself.”
Jennifer walks into my office, a bored expression on her face. She’s still fucked off with me for letting the restaurant patrons go. Right now, she has a very low opinion of me and has stopped sharing information.
“Captain Ronald Carland from Black Ridge… I’m here and so is Special Agent Jennifer Argos on speakerphone. Please tell her what you just told me.”
“Agent Argos, pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise, Captain, how can we help?”
“There’s a man in your town, Zeke Russo. A little while ago he claims his fiancée was kidnapped and strung up in a mine. The man said it smelled bad and honestly, when they came into the Sheriff’s Office, they smelled like death. At the time, he said he didn’t know if it was an animal or a person.”
“You say he claimed his girlfriend was kidnapped?” asks Argos.
“I believed them, but there was no one to back up their claim, and now that we’ve found three dead women, I’m having my doubts.”
“Three dead women?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Captain, I’m going to put you on hold for just a moment.”
Without waiting for his response, she hits my hold button and glares at me. “What the hell, Carlos? Are you going to get me involved in every bloody murder case from here to Timbuktu?”
“You didn’t let him finish. He found dead birds and the message, ‘You’re too late.’”
Jennifer’s eyes become wide, and she hits the button again. “Captain Carland, I’m sending a team. If you could preserve the murder scene as much as possible, I’d appreciate it.”
“Ahh, Special Agent Argos, we found those girls a week ago. I’ve had all sorts of people in and out of there. We can show you the scene, but it’s not pristine.”
“I’ll take what you can give me.”
Jennifer leaves the room in a hurry, and I take the Captain off the speaker.
“Thanks for that, Ronald. I’m thinking you’ve found our three missing strippers.”
“Strippers? Hmmm… two of them had fake boobs. We were chasing down the doctors who implanted them. So, they could be yours?” I can hear him shuffling papers.
“Ronald, what makes you think it was Zeke?”
“Well, it fits, doesn’t it? The man was here, he probably tied up that cute little fiancée of his in some sort of sick game. Have you had any dead girls drop since he’s been back?”
Shit. It all makes sense. Except it doesn’t. I wouldn’t call Zeke a friend, but I know him enough to know he wouldn’t hurt a woman.
“We’ve had one. She was beaten to death.”
“Seems pretty cut and dry to me, Carlos. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I need to set up security around the mine entrance and make sure no one goes in. I don’t need the FBI crawling up my orifices anytime soon.”
“Thanks, Ronald. You have a good day.”
“You, too.”
The line goes dead, and I’m left staring at the receiver when Jennifer clears her throat. I look up at her.
“We need to bring Zeke Russo in for questioning.”
“Let me do it.”
“What? Afraid we’ll steal your thunder, Sheriff?”
I shake my head. “I get you’re mad at me, but as much as I don’t want to admit this, this is an MC town, more specifically a Savage Angels’ town. Now, as far as I can tell, they don’t run anything out of here, but if you go in there to get one of their own, they’ll fight you, dig in, and you won’t hav
e a hope in hell of getting Zeke Russo out alive.”
“Sheriff, you—”
“No! You’re going to sit this one out. I’m going to make a phone call and invite Zeke to the station. He’ll come, and you can question him all you want. Just let me do my job. This is my town, and I know how this is going to go down.”
Jennifer puts both hands on her hips and leans toward me. Spittle flies from her lips. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the sheriff in this town. If Zeke doesn’t come in, I’ll personally go down and get him. But please, in the meantime, can we try it my way first?” I almost plead with her.
Jennifer straightens, one hand comes off her hip, she gives me a single nod. “Okay, Carlos, you’ve got one chance. But if he doesn’t come in, we’re going in to get him.” She turns quickly and storms out of my office.
I pick up my personal phone as I need it to appear that I’m on their side and call Dane Reynolds.
“Sheriff, what can I do for you?”
“Dane, I need you to send Zeke to me at the Sheriff’s Office.”
“Why?”
“I need to question him about the incident at the mine in Black Ridge. A Captain Carland just called, and he has a bug up his ass.”
When I was a detective, it was always easier to stick to a half-truth. That way, it sounds believable.
“That man is hard as nails. When do you want Zeke?”
“The sooner, the better.”
“He’s working in the garage. I’ll tell him to clean up and send him on his way.”
“Thanks, Dane, appreciate it.”
“It’s all good.”
Dane hangs up, and I realize I used up my one and only card to remain friends with him. When he discovers he’s been duped, he’ll be completely fucked off, and any chance of friendship will disappear.
Pity.
Underneath it all, Dane seems like a decent guy.
Dane
The garage workshop is busy today. I can see Zeke’s legs protruding out from under an old Honda that’s a patchwork of colors.
“Yo, Zeke.”
He rolls himself out from underneath, grease smeared across his forehead. “Yeah, Prez?”
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