Eye for an Eye (An Owen Day Thriller)

by Rachel Ford

  “Okay,” he said for the third time. “Well, that’s good to know. I appreciate you getting back to me, Mr. Day.”

  “Of course. What can I help with, Deputy?”

  He paused. Then he said, “It was a question about the body. If you have time now.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’m in no hurry.”

  “In your description of the deceased, you mentioned he had a scar on his chin.”

  I hadn’t said that. I’d told him I didn’t know. I’d told him I hadn’t really seen his lower face because of the shadow. He knew that.

  Which meant he knew something was up. Whether he was responding to my cues, or whether it was me he suspected of being off, I didn’t know. But either way, as long as he tracked my cell signal, I didn’t care – whether he came looking for me, or whether he came to arrest me.

  So I said, “That’s right.”

  “Okay,” he said, for the fourth time. “Can you go over the scene again? You know, how you found the body? We’re trying to figure out how someone could have picked him up without you spotting him.”

  Joey shook his head. Jimmy moved the tip of the barrel back and forth, like he was waggling his finger. If his finger could kill, anyway.

  I said, “Listen, Sheriff, I can’t really talk right now. The kids are starving. But it’s all in my statement.”

  “Fair enough,” he said. “But Mr. Day, if you think of anything, call me. We’re getting nowhere fast with this one. We’ve got three possible missing person ID’s in the upper Midwest alone, and more if we include the rest of the country. So anything you can give me is going to help.”

  “Understood. If I think of anything, I’ll let you know. But I’ve given you all the details I can remember.”

  “Alright. Well, thank you, Mr. Day. You’ve been a big help.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “Have a good day, Deputy.” Then I stretched my hand out over the phone, like I was hitting the terminate call button. “How was that?” I asked.

  Joey clapped again.

  Jimmy said, “You saved your skin, anyway.”

  “Three-star performance,” Shannon said. “You got yourself all flustered and turned around.”

  It was at this point I actually pressed the button. I kept my hand over the phone and pulled it off the table. I handed it to Joey. “There.”

  He clapped me on the back. “You think on your feet. I like that.”

  “Come on,” Shannon said. “He was shitting bricks every time the cop asked him a question. He contradicted himself. He said he had plenty of time one minute, and then he couldn’t talk the next.”

  Joey shrugged. “Oh well. The cop bought it, right? So we’re in the clear.”

  * * *

  Deputy Austin Wagner, 1:50 PM

  I replayed the conversation in my mind. It had started innocently enough. He’d said all the kinds of things someone who wanted to cooperate but hadn’t seen the call would say.

  And then it had gone off the rails.

  “I’m sorry,” he’d said. “The kids wanted to go for a bike ride.”

  There were two problems with that. First, I’d called him two days in a row. No bike ride with kids that age lasts two whole days.

  Second, I’d been to the campsite this morning. I’d seen the bikes for myself: all neatly arranged in a row. I’d seen the food, and empty site, with no sign of Day or the kids.

  They could have been somewhere else, maybe at the showers when I got there. But Jansen had been back since. The bikes were still there; Day and the kids weren’t.

  Then there was when I’d asked if he was at the site now. He’d said, “Yes.”

  So either he’d gotten the bikes out and gotten back right under Jansen’s nose – not entirely impossible, given the size of the park, but a hell of a timing coincidence – or he was lying.

  Then there was the comment about kidnapping. I had thought it, sure. But I hadn’t used the word kidnapped to Megan. Of course, she might have drawn the inference on her own. She might have read between the lines, or she might have a vivid imagination. So maybe she had told Day that I was worried about him being kidnapped.

  He’d contradicted himself, too, when I asked if he had time to talk about the body.

  “Sure. I’m in no hurry.”

  Then, not thirty seconds later, he’d said, “Listen, Sheriff, I can’t really talk right now. The kids are starving.”

  I hadn’t said anything to spook him. I’d just asked him to repeat what he’d already said. But he went from plenty of time, to no time.

  He’d given me a hint when I tried him with the scar, too. I’d asked, “In your description of the deceased, you mentioned he had a scar on his chin.”

  And he’d said, “That’s right.”

  It wasn’t right. He knew it, and I knew it; and what’s more, he knew I knew it. He’d told me the exact opposite. He’d been explicit about it, emphasizing how the chin had been covered in shadow. Then, he’d copped to seeing the scar.

  Which meant – what?

  At the time, I hadn’t known. Then, of course, we’d gotten to the end of the call. Day had said goodbye. Then he’d added, “How was that?”

  Someone had clapped in the background.

  For a moment, I thought I’d caught him, essentially on a hot mic: him, and some other conspirator, jumping the gun, celebrating their success before they hit the button to terminate the call.

  Then someone said, “You saved your skin, anyway.” A man. Definitely a man’s voice, but too far away for me to identify it.

  Then a woman said, “Three-star performance.”

  And the line went dead. At which point, it made sense. It hadn’t been a hot mic. Day had left the line open, so I would hear.

  Just like he’d copped to seeing a scar, when he knew full well that I would find that odd. Just like he’d called me sheriff instead of deputy. Just like he’d talked about kidnapping and an amber trail, when there was no such trail at the park. Because he’d wanted me to think about someone kidnapping the kids, and hear amber a second later.

  Because that’s what you do when kids go missing: you put out an amber alert.

  The whole call had been an SOS, a hundred different cues that all was not well. A guarded cry for help in the only way he had available to him.

  I was reaching that conclusion when my cell vibrated with an incoming text. I glanced at it.

  It was from Jansen. He sent just one word, but it spoke volumes. “Empty.” A moment later, another message came through, with a photo attached. “Status unchanged.”

  Jansen might not have been a man of many words, but he sure got the message across.

  The picture showed exactly what I remembered: the SUV, and the bikes, and the neat rows of supplies, and the food scattered all over the place.

  Not bicycling. Not avoiding my calls. Not losing interest in the case or going off the deep end.

  Owen Day and Maisie and Daniel Welch had been kidnapped.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Alright,” Joey said. “Get our star back to his cell, so I don’t have to look at his face anymore.”

  Shannon laughed. “You heard him,” she started to say. Then, she cut off, a panicked look crossing her face.

  The same expression crossed Joey’s face and Jimmy’s at the same time. Her head snapped toward the front of the house. Theirs snapped toward the front of the house.

  They were turning toward the sound of a vehicle on the drive.

  I hoped it would bring good news, for about two seconds. Then, Tyler burst into the room, grinning ear to ear.

  “Chief’s here,” he said.

  The other three let out a collective sigh of relief.

  Not good news, then.

  They all rushed to the windows, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of this Chief. “Looks like the crew’s all there,” Joey said.

  “This shit’s really happening,” Shannon said.

  “Course it is,” Joey said. “I
told you it would.”

  I heard what sounded like two vehicles drive up. Then the engines cut, and the four seemed to remember me. Joey turned to Jimmy. “Right: get this clown upstairs.”

  “Me? Let Tyler do it. He got to meet the chief already.”

  Joey shook his head. “Fine. Whatever. Tyler, you–”

  Then the door opened, and a new voice rang out. “Joey?”

  Joey shot his crew an exasperated look and scurried for the hallway. “We’re here, Chief.”

  The other three followed. Tyler dragged me along, a gun in my ribs.

  The new guy, Chief, was a tall man with fair skin with an olive tint, and strong features. He looked like he could have been an investment banker, or equally, a mob boss.

  “I wasn’t sure I had the right place,” the new guy said. “Looks like you guys have some kind of party going on, what with all the vehicles out there.”

  Joey grinned. “Long story.”

  Chief nodded. Then, his eyes fixed on me. “Who’s that?”

  “Longer story,” Joey said. Then, he said to Tyler, “Go on: get him out of here.”

  Chief held up a hand. “Wait. I got time for a story. Tyler, can you and…Jimmy, I’m assuming?”

  Jimmy nodded and stepped forward to offer his hand. “Jimmy Braden. Pleasure to meet you, Chief.”

  Chief shook it and nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Braden.”

  “Nothing good, I hope, sir.”

  Chief smiled. “Not a word of it.”

  Jimmy laughed and nodded, like he was pleased with the answer, and stepped back to the rest of his crew.

  “Well, Jimmy, could you and Tyler help Marco with the gear?”

  “You got it, boss.”

  The two roughs circled Chief. Jimmy’s shoulder brushed against the wall of the narrow hall in the process. Subtle body language, but clear: the Chief was the boss. No doubt about that.

  Chief waited until they’d stepped outside. Then he spoke again, this time to Joey. “So, who is this guy?”

  Joey licked his lips, and for the first time I realized he was nervous – not about cops or unwelcome guests showing up. He was nervous about Chief. Specifically, about explaining his actions to the boss.

  “This guy was sniffing around, back when we were at the campsite. Him and his kids.”

  “No we weren’t,” I said.

  “You shut your mouth,” Joey snapped. “Or I’ll shut it for you.”

  Chief glanced between us. “Why does he say you were, then?”

  “Because one of the kids recognized him at the showers, from some cop show, about the FBI’s most wanted.”

  Chief raised an eyebrow and asked Joey, “You – a wanted man – went to the public showers?”

  Joey fidgeted. “Yeah. I didn’t see no harm in it. There wouldn’t have been, except for this guy and his kids.”

  “Actually, I didn’t believe them,” I said. “I figured they got you mixed up with someone they saw on TV.”

  “Shut your goddamned mouth,” Joey snapped.

  I didn’t. I added, “The only reason I knew you existed is because you kidnapped us.”

  Joey turned then with a backhand, hard against my cheek. “Shut your face, or I’ll shut it for you.”

  Chief said nothing. “And the other family? How are they?”

  “They’re fine,” Joey said, and his tone was less deferential now. “I told you, Chief: I got it under control.”

  “And Callaghan?”

  Here, Joey stalled. He glanced toward Shannon. She glanced down.

  “What about Callaghan?” Chief asked again.

  Behind him, the door opened a second time. Jimmy and Tyler came in, loaded down with bags and gun cases. Six men walked behind them, all of them dark-haired and light skinned, all of them looking like they fit somewhere between Joey and Chief.

  One was short and heavy; not obese, not unfit, but definitely heavy. Two were tall, at least six-feet tall, and lean, with athletic builds and good features. The other three were right in between: not quite tall, not quite short; not quite handsome, and not quite ugly.

  They had been talking together, two crews getting acquainted – laughing a little generously, like they all wanted to make sure they got off on a good footing. But they fell silent at the sight in the hall.

  One of the tall guys said, “Everything okay, Chief?”

  Chief didn’t answer the question. Not directly, anyway. He said, “Mr. Rabbitt here was just explaining what happened to his hostage.”

  Joey swallowed.

  “Well?” Chief prompted. “Go on.”

  “We…he…he got away. So we – Jimmy shot him.”

  “He got away,” Chief repeated, like he was mulling the words over. “And Jimmy shot him.”

  “That’s right,” Joey repeated.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Jimmy said.

  Chief raised a hand. Jimmy fell silent. “Let’s start at the beginning. How did he escape?”

  Joey nodded. “We were setting up the rooms here. Tyler and Jimmy were, and I was, you know, supervising. Shannon was with the couple and the baby.”

  “The couple and the baby that you kidnapped.”

  Joey licked his lips. “We needed a place to hide out. You told us that, Chief. You told me to find a place.”

  “A place. As in, an actual place. Not a camper.”

  “You said off the grid. It doesn’t get more off the grid than camping. And no one would be looking for them for at least two weeks, since they had the site for two weeks. And no one would think of looking for us in a campsite. I mean, why would they?”

  Chief said nothing.

  “So we took them. But then we had to figure out what to do with them. Things got a little crowded in the camper.”

  “If only someone had thought this through beforehand…”

  “My plan was to off them. You’re the one who said we couldn’t do that, boss.”

  “I told you that from the beginning.”

  Joey shrugged. “Yeah, well, that complicates things. As soon as we had the family, Callaghan started making trouble. Trying to get the woman to worry about her baby. You know, ‘they’ll kill us all, your baby too.’ Trying to get the guy to help him.

  “So we started looking for a place, where we could keep them separate. We found this one. Everything was going smoothly. We took Callaghan out here and got the room all set up. But he decided to run.”

  “I thought you were watching him?”

  “We were. He was there one second, and then, bam, gone the next.”

  “So you shot him?”

  “No. First, we tried to catch him. He started running through the fields. We took the Millers’ pickup – real shit box.”

  “The who?”

  “Millers. The old farts who own this place.”

  “Okay. So you’re in the Millers’ shit box. Then what?”

  “We chased him down, through the field. Finally caught up to him, and he’s fighting like a wildcat. Screaming bloody murder. So – well, Jimmy shot him.”

  Chief turned to Jimmy. The other man shrugged. “I didn’t have a choice. Anyway, Joey told me to.”

  Chief turned back to Joey. Joey flushed all the way down his pudgy neck. “Because we didn’t have a choice. Like I say, he was fighting like a wildcat.”

  “We wrapped him in a tarp and buried his body out back.”

  “Don’t forget the part where you dumped him right on the road first,” I put in.

  A silence so thick you could have cut it with a knife descended on the room. Chief glanced us all over, one after the other: first me, then Joey, then Jimmy and Tyler and Shannon.

  Finally, he asked, “What?”

  Joey’s red turned a purplish hue. “We didn’t…that is…that was an accident.”

  Chief stared at him for a long moment. Then, he started to gesture with one hand, waving it a kind of circle. “Help me to understand here, Joey. Are you telling me you chased Callag
han down, shot him, and then dropped him on the road somehow?”

  Joey nodded wordlessly.

  “You mind elaborating on the ‘somehow,’ because – I got to say – I’m having a real hard time following how the hell something like that can happen.”

  “It wasn’t my fault.”

  “Is anything?”

  “Really, it wasn’t. You can ask these clowns.” He gestured to Tyler and Jimmy. “Some dumbass deer was on the road. Following it, because of the swamp on either side. He decides to bolt right in front of me.”

  “She,” Tyler said.

  “What?”

  “She. It didn’t have antlers. It was a doe.”

  Joey stared at him for half a beat. Then, he shook his head, as if to clear away useless trivia. “The deer jumps out in front of me. I slam on the brakes, we stop hard. Only, I didn’t realize it, but the body must have fallen out the back.”

  “You…didn’t realize the body had fallen out the back,” Chief repeated, in a wondering tone.

  Joey didn’t say anything.

  Jimmy said, “Not right away. But we came back for it as soon as we did, Chief.”

  “It wouldn’t have been any kind of problem,” Joey said, jutting his thumb my way, “if not for this guy.”

  “You?” Chief asked. “What did you have to do with this?”

  “Not a damned thing,” I said. “I was driving to the beach and saw a body in a tarp. I called it in. That was it.”

  “Bullshit,” Joey said. “This guy’s trouble. I’m telling you, boss. I heard those brats of his at the showers, talking about me. They’re trouble.”

  “Did he see you getting the body?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Did he see you dropping the body?”

  “Nobody saw that. We didn’t even see it.”

  “So you kidnapped him because he didn’t see anything?”

  “No. We took him because they spotted us.”

  “Spotted you, you mean. At, presumably, some kind of public showers. With all kinds of people all over the place.”

  “There weren’t that many people.”

  “But enough to ID you.”

  Joey nodded a little sheepishly.

  “And this was after you had this place? What in God’s name were you still doing at the campsite?”