Footsteps in the Dark

by Josh Lanyon

  I turned back to the video and leaned closer to the monitor. “Okay, so who opened the door?” I muttered. I watched the chaotic scene that followed the discovery of Dale’s body. Levi seemed horrified, and for a brief time even borderline afraid of the big cat. Jax arrived on the scene about a half hour after Dale was discovered. I felt oddly uncomfortable watching him clutch his head and run toward Dale’s mangled body; as if I were intruding on a very personal moment. He knelt over Dale and stayed there for a long while. Eventually, he rose slowly, shoulders bowed, and moved to talk to Levi.

  Nobody went near the safe-room door, at least not until the cops arrived. A tall, thin guy I didn’t recognize led one of the officers into the cage and to the closed door. They were there for a few minutes, and then I saw them in Dale’s actual room. I froze the DVR there and made a note of the time. Whoever that skinny guy was, he’d managed to get the door open. I rubbed my burning eyes and rewound the video to the part where Dale was given a break. The safe-room door was open the entire time the crew cleaned the cage. Then one of the workers returned to the door and shut it firmly before leaving the area. He didn’t look anything like the guy who’d opened the door after Dale’s murder. He was shorter and rounder.

  I rewatched those two events over and over until my head ached and my eyeballs felt like they were about to pop out of my head. I decided to call it a night and head home. I would visit Jax in the morning so he could identify the two men for me. I grabbed my jacket and took the elevator to the parking garage. As I slid behind the wheel, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I frowned, wondering who would call me at three-thirty in the morning.

  I answered, and before I could even say hello, someone started speaking in a panicked voice.

  “I’ve run off the road at Clifton Avenue, about a half mile south of Bradbury.” The alarmed voice rattled on. “Somebody just shot at me and drove me off the road. Can you please hurry?”

  “Mr. Thornburn?” I asked, feeling confused as I recognized his voice.

  There was a pause, and then, “Detective Decker?” He cursed under his breath. “I… I meant to call 911.”

  “What’s wrong?” I immediately started my car and headed out of the parking garage.

  He sucked in a long breath. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll call the real cops.”

  I scowled. “I am a real cop.” I turned in the direction of Clifton Avenue and punched it. The streets were mostly deserted at this time of the morning. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “I’m three minutes away, tops. Sit tight.”

  “Okay.” His voice wobbled.

  “Is the person who shot at you anywhere around?”

  There was an uneasy silence. “Not that I can see.” He seemed breathless. “The road’s empty.”

  “That’s the best-case scenario.” I made sure I sounded calm and like he had nothing to worry about. I wasn’t sure that was true, but I didn’t need him freaking out. I sped down the deserted roads and tried to keep him talking. “Did you get a look at anyone?”

  “It happened so fast.” He grunted. “God, that’s such a cliché.”

  “So no glimpse of hair color or ethnicity?”

  “No.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sure it was a stressful situation.”

  “Yeah. Just a little.”

  “You’re doing fine. Just breathe.”

  “I see headlights,” he said, anxiety plain in his voice.

  “That should be me.” I slowed as I neared a sleek, white BMW half in a ditch on the side of the road. He poked his head above the roof of the car, and I relaxed slightly. I hung up and parked in front of his vehicle. As I left the car, he moved around the hood and met me halfway.

  “I’m sorry. I told Siri to call the police, and she called you.” He had a gash on his smooth forehead, and blood had trickled down to his eyebrow. He looked pale in the light from the street lamp.

  “It’s not a problem. I was nearby.” I took his arm and led him to my passenger seat. I had a feeling he should sit because he looked about five seconds from passing out.

  He slid into my car, keeping his feet on the ground, and I knelt in front of him. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t know. I was driving home, and this red car came tearing around my left side.” He licked his lips. “I thought it was some asshole wanting to race. That happens a lot along this area because it’s such a wide-open stretch. But then something hit the glass next to my head, and the window splintered but stayed put. It shocked me so much, I drove off the road.”

  “Why do you think it wasn’t just a BB or a rock?”

  “I’m pretty sure I saw a handgun.”

  “Any chance you got the license plate?” I knew he probably hadn’t. People rarely did.

  Wincing, he said, “No. Sorry.”

  “Okay.” I stood. “Give me a minute while I call this in.” I did just that and then checked out his driver’s-side window. When I returned to him, his eyes were closed. “Are you dizzy?”

  He startled and opened his eyes. “Not really.”

  “How did you hurt your head?”

  He frowned and touched his forehead. Then he stared at the glistening blood on his fingers as if it did not compute. “Steering wheel maybe?”

  “It doesn’t look too bad. The paramedics will check you over just to be sure.”

  He glanced toward his car. “Maybe I’m overreacting. I mean, everything that’s happened with Dale has me spooked. It might have just been some punk shooting a pellet gun at me.”

  “That’s still dangerous as hell.”

  “Well, yeah. But it’s less ominous than someone pulling a fucking gun on me.”

  “True.”

  “It was probably just random, though, right?”

  I shrugged.

  “You don’t think it was?”

  “I have no idea.”

  He sighed. “You’re not giving me much.”

  “I don’t like jumping to conclusions.”

  He clasped his hands between his knees. “Right. Sorry. You’re a cop and you deal in facts. I’m a reality TV producer and I deal in drama and what-ifs.”

  I cleared my throat. “Do you have any enemies?”

  “Do I have any enemies?” His eyes bugged out. “Why?”

  “It’s just a routine question.”

  “You know I do. Remember the letter I got?”

  “Yes, but I mean anyone you personally know who would want to hurt you. Any psycho stalker ex-girlfriends we should know about?”

  He hesitated. “No.”

  “Okay.”

  “It would be ex-boyfriends, by the way.” His gaze was unflinching.

  The fact that he was gay intrigued and pleased me for a split second, until I remembered that I wasn’t exactly like catnip to sexy, rich, Hollywood producer types.

  Dream on, idiot.

  He pinched the skin between his eyes. “Maybe all my exes don’t love me, but I certainly can’t think of anyone who’s mad enough at me to shoot BBs at the window of my car.”

  “I, uh…looked at the window. It wasn’t a BB.”

  He stilled. “What makes you say that?”

  “Experience.”

  “Then I was right? I did see a gun?”

  “I believe you did. The size of the hole in your window indicates something larger than a BB. Also, the projectile passed through the glass on the driver’s side and the passenger side. A BB most likely would have hit the safety glass on the first window and stayed there.”

  “Fuck.”

  “It’s okay. Breathe.”

  His eyes were wide. “How is it okay?”

  “It could be a simple case of road rage.”

  “Even after what happened to Dale?”

  I kept my gaze steady. “We have zero proof that event was connected to this.”

  “Do you really believe that, or are you just trying to keep me calm?” His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes glit
tered in the car’s dome light. “Because I prefer facts to being placated. I don’t need you to pat me on the head and tell me I’m a good boy.”

  “I would never do that,” I deadpanned. “I’d hate to mess up your perfect hair, and I have no idea if you’re a good boy or not.”

  “Very funny, Decker.”

  We were interrupted when the paramedics and forensics showed up. The medical technicians examined Jax while I walked the road with my flashlight, looking for shell casings. I didn’t find anything. The bullet had passed clean through the car and was long gone, and the odds of finding any physical evidence pinpointing the shooter were infinitesimal.

  I stayed on scene another hour, talking to the team as they scoured the wrecked car. Eventually I let the tow truck drag the damaged vehicle from the ditch, and I returned to my car, where Jax waited. I was surprised to find him asleep. I got behind the wheel and studied him as he dozed. His face was relaxed, and he looked younger, maybe even vulnerable. His pretty, full lips were parted and tempting, and I swallowed against the raw attraction bubbling in my gut.

  When he moved, I jerked away. He opened his eyes, sat up, and rubbed his face roughly. “Shit. I fell asleep?”

  “Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes.” My voice was purposely sardonic as I started the engine. I was embarrassed I’d allowed myself to ogle him while he slept.

  “Sorry. Wow. I never do that.” He yawned.

  “It’s no big deal. Which direction?”

  “Oh.” He touched the door handle. “You don’t have to drive me home.”

  “Which way?”

  “I’m serious. I can call my personal assistant to come get me.”

  He started to open the door, but I grabbed his arm. “It’s no problem giving you a ride.”

  “I’ve been enough trouble.”

  I sighed. “You’re overthinking this. I’d drive anyone in your situation home.”

  “You’re probably just saying that.”

  “No. Listen, you look exhausted. I’m exhausted. But if you stay here to wait for your PA, I’m going to have to stay here too.”

  His brows pulled together. “Why?”

  “Because otherwise I’ll worry.”

  “About me?” He laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”

  I frowned. “You do?”

  “Definitely.”

  I pressed my hand to my chest dramatically. “I’m hurt.”

  His lips twitched. “Riiight.”

  “I have feelings.”

  “A hardened detective like you?”

  “Of course. I even cry at movies.” I smirked. “I’m a downright softie, depending on the subject matter.”

  “Sure you are.”

  I lifted one brow. “I’ll have you know I cried during The Revenant.”

  He snorted. “What scene?”

  “The one where he’s telling his dead son he won’t leave him.” I fake-sniffed and wiped at my eyes. “It hit me deep, man.”

  His laugh was throaty and sincere. “Fine. You can drive me home.”

  I grinned. “Pasadena, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  I pulled onto the highway. “I didn’t think the movie thing was going to work. I thought for a second I would have to share my love of little kittens too.”

  “I had no idea this person was inside you.”

  “Well, you know, I have a tough-cop image to maintain.”

  “You do have that down.”

  “And you have slick Hollywood movie mogul down.”

  He exhaled and stared out the window. “I do reality TV. I’m not exactly Steven Spielberg.”

  We drove for a while in silence. “Do you actually enjoy what you do?” I asked.

  “For the most part… Take a left at the red light. Then a couple miles down and turn right on Yellow Briar.”

  “You got it.”

  He fiddled with the air vent and then glanced over at me. “This thing with Dale has dampened my enjoyment of the job in a big way.”

  “I can imagine. I watched the footage last night.”

  His breath caught. “And…?”

  “There are a couple of people I need you to help me identify.”

  “Of course.” His voice was tense. “Did anything stand out to you? Anything that makes you think what happened to Dale was more than a random animal attack?”

  I didn’t respond right away. I couldn’t tell him about the jammed door. From the video, it was obvious Jax hadn’t gone anywhere near Dale’s safe room. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have had someone else do something to the keypad for him. Maybe this was all about a big insurance payout. “I need to rewatch it to make sure I’m not missing anything.”

  “You wouldn’t tell me if you stumbled on something, would you?”

  I glanced over and found him watching me. I still needed Andy to check the pad near the door. If it was an electronic failure, that was one thing, but if Andy discovered someone had tampered with the keypad, that was a whole other can of worms. I needed to know that important detail before I decided whether or not to classify this as a homicide. And if it was a murder case, I needed to remember everybody was a suspect, including Jax Thornburn. “I know it’s frustrating.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll get this sorted out.”

  He grunted. “It’s not like I’ve lost my luggage. A man died.”

  “And I’m looking into things. You need to be patient.”

  “Your empathy is overwhelming.”

  “Look. I know this is hard for you—”

  “Do you?” he snapped. “Because I feel like you don’t quite get how horrible this is. I’m the reason Dale was in that cage. I need answers, or I’m going to lose my mind.”

  I held my tongue.

  I turned on Yellow Briar as instructed, and parked in front of the sprawling mansion he called home. “I’m just following procedure. You’re taking this personally, and that’s a mistake.”

  “You know what? This is personal. I liked Dale. He was a good guy. He didn’t deserve to die the way he did. He had a wife and a five-year-old daughter. I’ve gotta live with that.” His voice quieted. “Maybe you’re used to this kind of depressing tragedy. But I’m not. I make stupid, feel-good reality TV shows for a living. So yeah, excuse me if this all feels really fucking personal to me.” He opened the door and got out, slamming it behind him.

  My eyes followed him as he strode up the long flagstone walkway to his fancy house. After spending hours with him, I had to admit he wasn’t exactly who I thought he’d be. He was obviously upset by what had happened to Dale, and my instincts said it wasn’t because he was the killer.

  But my instincts had bitten me in the ass before.

  Chapter Three

  “Dale’s passcode was deleted.” Andy held out a folder to me and Jax.

  “Andy—” My voice came out strangled. Even though we were in Jax’s office on the movie lot, I hadn’t expected Andy to simply blurt out his findings. I grabbed the file and gave Jax a wary look. “This isn’t for everybody’s eyes.”

  Jax’s face turned red. “You can’t still suspect me? I just want you to catch whoever killed Dale.”

  I gave Andy a stern look. “Our investigation is most effective when we play our cards close to our chest.”

  “Sorry,” Andy said.

  I ignored my coworker and addressed Jax, schooling my face into a more pleasant expression. “This is simply regular procedure. We keep certain details to ourselves; things only the killer might know. We can’t go blabbing our initial findings all over town, or we lose our advantage.”

  Andy winced.

  “Who would have the ability to change Dale’s code?” I asked Jax.

  His mouth was a hard line, and for a minute I thought he wasn’t going to answer me. “Three people have that knowledge.”

  “Are you one of them?”

  He scowled. “No.”

  “I need their names.” I turned to Andy
. “When was Dale’s code deleted?”

  He glanced toward Jax as if afraid to answer.

  I sighed. “Mr. Thornburn already knows the most important part, and we have his alibi. He can’t change that, so the time is what it is.”

  Andy shrugged. “I thought maybe it was a test.”

  “Still waiting,” I said testily.

  “Saturday.” He squinted as if trying to remember some elusive detail. “I believe it was right after Dale’s break, so that would make it around four a.m.” He pointed toward the file I held. “It’s all in there.”

  “Friday was the run-through and everything went fine?” I addressed Jax.

  “Yeah, everything went like clockwork. As far as I could tell, there was no issue with Dale getting into his pod during the run-through.”

  “Okay.”

  “If I’m officially a suspect, does that mean you’ve decided to rule Dale’s death a homicide?” Jax met my gaze, looking at me expectantly.

  “That’s exactly what it means,” I grumbled. “According to the coroner’s report, Dale was killed by the tiger. Dale tried to get into his safe room, but he couldn’t get the door open. The fact that he tried and failed is what had me suspicious. Of course, now we know why he couldn’t get in.” I’d called my lieutenant that morning to let him know I wanted to move forward. Between the animal attack and Jax getting shot at, I felt there was enough for me to peek into things further. Now with this new information about Dale’s code being erased, I was glad I’d decided to proceed. Something weird was happening, and it seemed connected to Jax.

  “I’m relieved you opened an investigation. If someone hurt Dale on purpose, I want them found.”

  “Can I ask why the show didn’t just use a basic slide lock on Dale’s room? Seems like a keypad would complicate things.”

  “The network felt it made everything more suspenseful if Dale had to punch in a code to get to safety.” Jax sighed. “I made sure his code was just two numbers, so there was nothing complicated about remembering it. But…I guess remembering the code wasn’t the problem after all.”

  “Aren’t keypads more susceptible to humidity and things like that?” I asked.

  “We’re filming inside a climate-controlled hangar. Didn’t seem like an issue.”

  “I see.”