“To be honest, I think at that point I was tired and angry and I said some things I probably shouldn’t have. Things like there were still good people in the department. In the town. That trust might have been broken but that’s the great thing about trust. You can only ever break it or earn it back. Since it was broken, that just meant it was time to earn it back.”
Kenneth had gotten to his point, even if he’d taken, as Willa called it, the long way around.
He kept his gaze sweeping his audience.
“But I was wrong.”
Kenneth flipped the whiteboard over. He’d written a number on it before everyone had come in. The number wasn’t exact, but it was well over one hundred. “That’s how many cases and incidents were directly affected by the corruption the FBI and the rest of us managed to find after The Flood. That’s what this department did. The corrupted made fools out of any of us who fought the good fight and did it all for personal and selfish gain. That FBI agent was right, we shouldn’t even be standing with that kind of cloud above our heads.” He shook his head. Angry all over again. “And that’s why the criminals in this town have become more brazen. If we can’t police or catch the criminals among ourselves, what hope do we have of doing anything to them.”
A few nods waved through the group. Lovett’s was one of them.
“That’s why I’m here, right now, in front of you.” Kenneth looked at Willa. “Miss Tate, here, is going to explain how she launched her own investigation into one of our cold cases and I’ll tell you how we’re going to help her.”
This time Willa’s blush was gone. She’d seemingly lost any nerves she’d been carrying.
She was curt and quick to tell them about Josiah Linderman and the box.
Then Kenneth brought it home.
“Everyone in here is now on this case and the break-in by Leonard Bartow, as well as the attempted mugging and subsequent attack by the man in the hockey mask. But I’m going to tell you two things that you probably won’t hear again in this building.”
Kenneth knew he could be commanding, just by his body type alone. He could make himself seem taller and wider, and turn his face into stone, while his voice flattened and swung low. He did all of those things standing there in front of the people who would hopefully help solve several mysteries all at once. He wanted them to not only hear him, he wanted them to listen.
When he was confident they were, his voice seemed to reverberate off the walls.
“You are not to trust anyone, but most specifically anyone currently in the department or who has formerly worked for the department. The town doesn’t trust us for good reason. We’re going to remember that reason while we work. No stone left unturned. No one is above suspicion.”
He held up two fingers to show he was at his last point. “You will tell no one outside this room what we are doing. Not spouses, not friends, not coworkers. If you question someone, you find a way to tell the truth without giving it away. Someone is out there making moves that we didn’t anticipate and we couldn’t stop. So, even though it’s a big ask to not trust and to not talk, remember that it might be the best way to find justice for people who deserved better from this department. From us.”
He didn’t say their names but three immediately swam behind his eyes.
LeAnne.
Josiah.
Ally.
Kenneth turned to Willa.
He refused to add her name to the list.
“Now, come to me one by one for assignments,” he barked out to the room. “We’ve got a job to do.”
Chapter Fifteen
The gun went with one person, the ring and the box with another, someone was given Leonard Bartow, and Willa thought she heard another being assigned to shuffle through files relating to anything that had happened the year that Josiah Linderman had gone missing.
Kenneth was the head of the hunt and held the authority with sangfroid. In turn he was given the reverence that Willa believed he’d earned by his speech. Though, to say she was surprised that the speech was meant to make each person in the room not trust a soul, was an understatement.
It was also the first thing Kenneth addressed when they were alone in his office.
“Telling someone they can’t trust anyone, especially during an investigation, usually makes them uncomfortable and cautious. It makes them choose their actions carefully and double-check their work. Not a long-term solution but, for now, I need everyone sharp, fast but thorough, and knowing that I’m not talking just to talk. I want this handled.”
The way he spoke, with such conviction, gave Willa goose bumps.
She asked how she could help.
Kenneth checked his watch. “I need to do a few things here, but do you think you could reach out to your boss, or whoever was in charge of making the agreement to develop the land you found the box buried on? I need as much information on it and the developer as possible. Maybe if you ask about it, you’ll get less scrutiny than if I send a deputy or even go myself.”
Willa felt a little shame that she hadn’t thought of that herself, but nodded. “I can do that.”
“Good. We might not know yet who buried the box but maybe if we found out why it was buried there, we can follow it back to some answers.”
Willa agreed. She was already thinking about the paperwork she could find herself as office manager when Kenneth announced she wasn’t going alone.
“You’re the common denominator in the attacks, so you’re not leaving my sight until this is over.” Willa might have normally scoffed at the somewhat sexist and demanding statement but there was no denying she felt relief. For more reasons than one.
She didn’t want to be alone.
She didn’t want Kenneth to be alone.
“I thought you didn’t want anyone to know what we were doing?” She couldn’t imagine Bobby Thornton, her boss and connection to the developer, wouldn’t stare at Kenneth’s presence when she spoke to him.
“I’ll stay in the car.” He held up his cell. “I can still make headway from my phone.”
It took them a few minutes as Kenneth finished up, but it wasn’t long before they were headed to her office.
Willa had already spoken to Bobby that morning, just as she had the day before about taking some personal days off. When she stepped through the front door solo, he came out into the small lobby with arms wide.
“Willa.” His tired eyes drank her in before he was all hug. Bobby was pushing seventy but had made it a point to tell anyone who would listen that retirement was for the birds. And he wasn’t a fan of flying.
He gave her a quick squeeze and then stepped back to look at her, full of concern. Along with wanting to die behind a desk instead of anywhere else, Bobby was known for his absolute love for his wife. Willa was surprised to not see her there. The very few times Willa had called off, she had come in to help out. Unlike her husband, she fully believed in relaxing after decades of working.
“How are you?” he asked, seeming to accept that, at least physically, Willa appeared to be all right. “I thought we agreed that you should take a few days. I mean, after what happened, I can barely focus on the work and I wasn’t even there.”
Kenneth might have been spouting the rule to not tell anyone about the investigation into Josiah and the two current attacks, but that didn’t mean news of the latter hadn’t already spread. Kelby Creek had been known to have the occasional uptick of excitement since The Flood but, as far as she could remember, no one had been outright killed. At least, no one innocent.
LeAnne Granger’s death had changed things.
It wasn’t gossip that had put the mugging turned deadly out into the town, it was facts.
A man had attacked one woman and killed another.
Neither piece of news was to be taken lightly.
Willa patted Bobby’s hand, still on her sh
oulder.
“I’m not here for the day but, you know me, always working up here.” She tapped her temple with her finger and smiled. That smile was tight and a mask for the discomfort of stepping around the truth to the boss she respected. “I was thinking about a new filing system to take when we need to be on-the-go and was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about some of our current jobs. About some details I realized I didn’t have. You know, to keep my focus at home instead of worrying about everything else outside of it.”
Willa swore when this was all over, she’d buy Bobby a big ol’ steak and apologize for her dishonesty. Until then, she was glad—and filled with guilt—when Bobby nodded and said it was a good idea.
He led her past her own office and into his, then Willa got down to business.
Twenty minutes later she was saying goodbye, telling Bobby that his wife didn’t need to worry herself with bringing Willa any homemade pie, and promising to see him Monday, bright and early.
When she got into Kenneth’s SUV, he was finishing up a phone call. He waited until he was done to start driving.
“Did you find anything?” he asked her in greeting.
Willa sighed.
“The name of the company who bought Lot 427, Red Tree Development, but that was all the information we had on file. I’ll have to call them and see if I can get more specific. Maybe we’ll find something useful.”
Willa wasn’t sure of that but she had hope.
“Who was that?” she asked, turning her attention fully to him.
Kenneth was tense.
“Remember I told you that Leonard Bartow woke up but only talked long enough to get himself a lawyer?”
Willa nodded. Part of her had been glad he’d been silent. Her hope was that he’d take that silence and let it, and the evidence against him, earn him a jail cell.
“Apparently he wants to talk. To me.”
That made her eyebrow pop up. “Did he say why you?”
Kenneth shook his head. “No. Just that he’ll only cooperate with the man in charge of the cold case unit.”
“Does he realize that man is the same one he attacked and threatened?”
“No,” he said again. “I don’t think so, at least. I’ll find out soon.”
Instead of angling the SUV in the direction of the department, she noted he’d turned in the direction of the hospital. Not her favorite place. But, after all, Leonard had been hit by a car, so it stood to reason that he was still in Haven Hospital. The thought that he’d been in the same building when Willa was with Kenneth the day before made her skin crawl.
Kenneth placed his hand on top of Willa’s. His was warm. He was also sensing her unease.
“You don’t have to see him. You can stay out in the hall with the guard on duty,” he assured her. “Or, if it makes you feel better, I can take you back to the department.”
Willa shook her head. “I might not like the man but I want to know what he has to say.”
Kenneth nodded and put his eyes back on the road.
Yet, he kept his hand right where it was until they parked at the hospital.
* * *
LEONARD BARTOW’S ATTORNEY was shaking his head as he left. Kenneth didn’t blame him. He’d just been dismissed by his client in words so loud they’d reverberated through the third-floor hallway.
Willa watched him go, Kenneth watched Willa. She hadn’t said a word since she’d agreed to come with him to see Bartow and now he wished she had. Kenneth couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Not at the moment, at least. Other than obvious concern, there was something beneath the surface.
Something he wished they could talk about.
But now wasn’t the time.
Not with Leonard ready to talk.
The hospital’s security guard—the man’s nametag read Billings—moved from his spot next to Leonard’s hospital room door.
“He’s handcuffed to the bed,” he said in greeting. “But everyone’s said he’s been a good patient. Hasn’t kicked up a fuss since I’ve been here, either.”
“I suppose he saves that for the women he attacks,” muttered Willa.
It sobered the guard.
“Yeah, that’s not right.” He turned to address Kenneth directly. “Between hospital security and the deputies sent our way, Mr. Bartow hasn’t been alone since he was brought in. We’ve been on him 24/7.”
“Good.” Kenneth didn’t think Leonard would try to pull much considering he had a broken leg and arm. But, after the week he’d had, Kenneth wasn’t about to assume anything. “Willa, are you good to stay out here or—”
He watched Willa flinch and cover her ears at the same time he felt the urge to do the same. An alarm screeched throughout the hallway with awful intention.
“Is that the fire alarm?” he asked Billings.
“Yeah, it is,” he shouted over the piercing noise. “But we don’t have any drills scheduled for right now, especially since there’s surgery going on downstairs.”
Billings took a step back and began to talk into the radio he’d pulled from his hip.
Kenneth reached out for Willa and took her hand.
Her eyes were wide.
He gave her hand what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.
Billings stepped closer. “There’s someone attacking staff downstairs outside room 203!”
Kenneth’s heartbeat galloped to attention.
Room 203 was where Leonard Bartow was supposed to be. It was only on the recommendation of Detective Lovett that Leonard had been moved to another room after the second attack on Willa. “It might not do us any good to be the only ones who know where he really is, but it might do whoever is helping him or involved some bad to not know where he really is,” he’d reasoned.
Maybe Foster had been right.
“I have to go,” Billings yelled over the alarm. He started to turn but Kenneth grabbed his uniformed arm in an invasive move and kept him steady. He pointed at the door and at Willa.
“You guard them. I’ll go downstairs!”
Kenneth didn’t wait for an audible confirmation. He did wait for Willa’s.
“Go,” she insisted.
So, he did.
Gun out and ready for anything.
* * *
WILLA DIDN’T LIKE it but she was ushered into the room Billings had been guarding and right into the sights of Leonard Bartow. True to the guard’s words, the big man was attached to the hospital bed by a set of handcuffs.
When their eyes met, it was instant recognition.
Willa made sure not to reach up and touch the skin of her neck that was still slightly bruised from the brute’s hands. The foundation her sister had given her was the only reason no one had so far commented on it.
“What’s that damn noise for?” Leonard yelled at Billings.
He didn’t answer him.
“I’m going to be right outside the door,” he said to Willa instead. “No one will be coming in but me or your detective.”
Willa cast Leonard an uncertain look.
Billings caught it. “He’s cuffed and I’m the only one with a key. You’ll be fine.”
Billings’s concern for her was nothing compared to Kenneth’s. He was out the door, letting it shut behind him, in a second flat.
Then again, guarding Leonard and her had been his most recent directive.
“What’s going on?” Her former attacker’s voice was filled with a mixture of anxiety and anger. The same thing she was feeling just looking at him.
“That’s the fire alarm,” she responded, pointing up. The noise wasn’t as deafening in the room but they still had to raise their voices.
“If there’s a fire then why are we still in here?” His anxiety notched up to an easily discernible panic as he pulled on the handcuffs. They stayed right w
here they were on the bed rail.
“It’s an alarm, I don’t know if there’s an actual fire,” she snapped. Her own rising panic wasn’t as easy to control.
Was it a coincidence that the moment they were about to talk to Leonard, the fire alarm went off? That some man was fighting people downstairs outside the room the sheriff’s department had moved him from?
No.
There was absolutely no way in hell.
Willa worried for Kenneth with such acuteness that she physically grabbed at her chest as she looked back at the closed door.
“You were with Detective Gray, weren’t you?”
The question caught Willa wholly off guard. So much so, she told the truth and nodded. “Yes, he was about to walk in when the alarm went off. He had to go downstairs to check it out.”
The man might have looked like an ogre but it almost seemed like he was doing some figures in his head, working something out.
To her shock, he had.
“He wouldn’t have left you here to go downstairs if there was a fire. He would have taken you with him.” Leonard’s frown deepened.
The fire alarm cut off.
The silence behind his words was eerie as he continued. “He’s coming for me because I’m a loose end.”
Willa wasn’t about to dismiss the thought. She took a tentative step toward him.
“Who is he? Who are you—?”
A sound that was becoming all too familiar to Willa made her scream.
It was a gunshot and it had been out in the hallway.
Willa didn’t have time to react further before two more shots sounded.
She was clutching at her shirt, terror thronging through her body, when Leonard’s voice managed to penetrate her fear.
“Get in the bathroom, Miss Tate.”
It was a simple, straightforward statement said in a calm, even tone.
Willa looked Leonard’s way because, for that moment, he was the only sturdy thing in the room.
“Don’t make a sound,” he added.
Someone yelled out in the hallway. Another gunshot sounded.
Surviving the Truth Page 13