While Ben’s head was buried against Oscar, Sierra glanced over her shoulder at Taylor. Color had returned to her cheeks, and a glimpse of hope glinted in her eyes. Had Ben said anything while he was gone? What did the words he’d cried out mean? Who was Charlie?
* * *
Sierra kissed the top of Ben’s head and rose. “I’ll only be in the hall. I’ll be right back.” As she came toward Taylor, he moved out of the entrance.
She didn’t say anything until they were several feet away from the room. “He doesn’t remember anything about what he said or did. It’s like sleepwalking. He has no memory of sitting up or collapsing into my arms.”
“Has he ever sleepwalked?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Did you tell him what he screamed out?”
“Yes, and all he did was shake his head. Do you think it has something to do with what happened at the clinic?”
Taylor looked toward Ben’s bedroom before answering, “Possibly, especially if he doesn’t do this. Has he ever had nightmares before and called out?”
“No. What in the world does ‘This is for Charlie’ mean?”
“Does he have a friend named Charlie?”
“He’s never mentioned that name to me, and I’m with him a lot. I can call his teacher tomorrow and see if there is someone named Charlie in his class or at school that Ben knows.”
Taylor nodded, a frown carved deep into his features. “What if the killer said this to your sister as he shot her?”
Sierra sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment. “Kat never mentioned a Charlie to me in the past couple of years. She doesn’t date. She was focused on her career and raising Ben.”
“We need to look into all possibilities. Maybe Ben will remember later. Tomorrow after you talk to the teacher, we can list all the Charlie and Charles names in the files.”
“It’s a common name. That might be a long list.”
“Let’s start with the files we haven’t checked yet.”
Sierra cupped his face with one hand. “You need to sleep. I’m going to stay with Ben tonight.”
“That’s only a twin bed. Dad has a blow-up mattress that I could put in the room for you.”
“Sounds good. Although I’m not sure how much sleep I’ll get tonight.”
“As a wise woman recently told me, ‘You need to sleep.’ That goes for you, too.”
She smiled. “I’m going to try, but I’m wired at the moment. His scream scared me so much. I thought the killer was somehow in the room with him, especially after his drawing today.”
“That guy is certainly in Ben’s mind. I hope he’ll start talking. I think he knows something that could lead to the assailant.” He ran his fingers through her hair, hooking it behind her ears.
His gesture reminded her of that brief kiss they had exchanged not far from where they were standing. Not only would she remember Ben’s scream, but she wouldn’t forget Taylor’s kiss either.
* * *
The next morning, Taylor sat at his computer in the kitchen, running through the photos of the crowd his dad took yesterday. Taylor focused on the man who ran from Nash and the SAPD officers. In his gut he suspected the runner was the shooter, there to see the results from the bombing. Was the man checking to see if the bomb killed Sierra? If so, why? Did he need to see that it happened? For revenge? Or something else?
If Taylor had answers to those questions, it would help him find the killer. If it was revenge, it was against the clinic and all the people inside. That meant a disgruntled patient or former employee—probably not someone randomly off the streets.
He glanced at the wall clock. Sierra should be up soon.
He had a feeling the location of the bomb was important, but when he went down the list of patients they had gotten to before the explosion, there wasn’t a Charlie or Charles on his sheet of paper she’d reprinted after he lost the first one.
The sound of footsteps alerted him that Sierra was approaching. His dad was out running a couple of errands. He glanced over his shoulder as she entered.
“Is Ben still asleep?”
Sierra nodded, then headed straight for the coffeepot and grabbed a mug from the cabinet above the counter. “When he finally went to sleep, there wasn’t another peep out of him. I was going to bring Oscar down here, but I didn’t want to disturb Ben. He had his arm around the dog.” She made her way to the table and sat catty-cornered from Taylor. “It looks like you’re hard at work.”
“We have a lot to cover.”
“I called Ben’s teacher before coming downstairs. There’s no one named Charlie or Charles in her room. And she says Ben usually plays with his buddies from his class.”
“The way he said it that doesn’t surprise me.” Taylor sipped his coffee.
“I hope you got some rest last night.”
“I did. Did you?”
She stared at her mug. “Let’s say I’ll be depending on caffeine to keep myself awake and functioning. Part of last night, I sat on the bed and watched Ben sleeping. I couldn’t stop my thoughts racing in different directions concerning what was going on.”
“Did you come to any conclusions?”
“The killer is someone in the files or connected to a patient.”
“I thought that, too, but when I went down the list you recreated yesterday, I couldn’t find anyone who had that name or a version of it in the remaining files we hadn’t checked.”
“It’s possible it was in the files we already went through.” She snapped her finger. “Or because we assumed he took the file, so that was all we were looking at. What if he didn’t take the file, but instead he planted the bomb, so all the files would be destroyed? The bomb was meant to kill us, and where it was planted might mean nothing. It was powerful and destroyed a good part of the clinic.”
“You’re a natural-born detective. That explanation makes sense. I went back and ran down the list. I can say there isn’t a Charles or Charlie on a file. There was only one that’s a possibility labeled C. H. Watson.”
“I don’t recall anyone who went by those initials. It could be a family member of Charles or Charlie.”
“That will require you going through each file on the cloud while I try to run down the ID of the man in the crowd yesterday. If you get a name that’s a variation of Charlie, give it to me, and I’ll see what I can come up with. I’ll go through the ex-employees and people who have worked for you as a contract worker.”
Sierra took a sip of her drink. “What if it isn’t anyone who has a personal connection to the clinic?”
“I don’t think this is random, especially with a bomb being left behind in the locked file cabinets. The killer would have had to get the keys from your receptionist, then put them back on her, most likely when he realized you were missing. From what Nash told me, Brewer was murdered before the shooting at the clinic, and his keys were taken from him, so he could get inside before patients arrived.”
Sierra sighed. She dropped her head forward and massaged her temples. “Is this what all your cases are like?”
“Some are obvious. Others are a puzzle with a few that haven’t been solved. I don’t want this one to fall into that category.” He clasped her shoulder and kneaded her tight muscles. “I don’t give up. Even the cases that have evaded me, I still work on them. A couple of months ago, I solved one that I’d been dealing with for two and a half years. This killer will make a mistake. I think he already has.”
Sierra turned her head toward him. “What mistake?”
“I think he was in that crowd yesterday. Some killers like to go back to the scene of the crime. I’m focusing on the guy who ran from Nash, but I’m going to check everyone out.”
“Even the ones I recognize from the copy shop and café?”
“Everyone is a suspect until proven otherwise.
”
Sierra went to the coffeepot and brought it to the table. “Do you want a refill?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
“Where’s your dad? Sleeping since he stayed up?”
“No. He’s doing a couple of errands. He’ll be back soon.”
“Then I’m going to make us breakfast and save some for Robert. Ben hasn’t been eating very much, but I might be able to persuade him to eat pancakes. He loves them with bacon.”
“You’ll have to wait until Dad returns. One of the errands was the grocery store.”
“Then what computer can I use to go through the files? I used your laptop last night. We both can’t work on it. I’ve got to do something. I’m not used to sitting around and doing nothing.”
“We can move to the dining room. Dad set up his computer in there during the night.” Taylor picked up his notes and laptop. “I’ve also asked for a copy of any video the police have, including the crowd the day of the shooting. They’ve gone through it, but another pair of eyes on it might pick up something—but when I do that, I’ll be in my bedroom. I don’t want Ben to see or hear any of it—nor you, especially inside the clinic.”
“Thanks. I don’t think I could.” When Sierra stood and reached for her mug, her hand shook. “I’ll make another pot of coffee, then get to work.”
As a law enforcement officer, he always had to be aware that someone might come after him because of the job he did. He was used to it but not Sierra. His gaze captured hers. “You and Ben aren’t alone.”
“I know. That and Ben are what keeps me going.”
While Sierra walked to the counter and opened the can of coffee, Taylor left the kitchen and set up his workplace at the dining room table.
“I’m going to start with the files in the cabinets we didn’t get to check,” she said as she came into the room and booted the computer.
Taylor, meanwhile, concentrated on the array of photos his dad took. In one that wasn’t zoomed in close to the people in the crowd, he caught a man sitting in a car across the street, staring at the bombed clinic, a camera in his hand. A reporter? Usually they approached the crime scene to do that as well as to question the police about what happened. Something didn’t feel right.
He blew up the photo and homed in on the man in the black car. The picture was grainy, but it showed some of the driver’s details. “Does he look familiar, Sierra?” He turned his computer screen for her to see.
Her forehead crunched. Her eyes squinted. “Yes—possibly, but I don’t know from where. That’s all I’ve been able to say lately.”
“Don’t worry. I’m going to have Nash see if there are any security cameras that might have picked him up better and possibly the license plate number. I also would like to know how long that car was sitting there.” Taylor took out his cell phone and started to make a call when he noticed Ben and Oscar coming into the dining room. Taylor quickly put the computer in sleep mode.
Ben saw him and hurried toward Taylor, relief on the child’s face. The boy gave him a big hug, then went to Sierra and did the same.
“Did you sleep okay?” she asked.
Her nephew nodded.
“Ben, do you want to go outside with me and Oscar?” Taylor asked, laying his cell phone next to computer. As the child indicated yes, the sound of the garage door opening filled the air. “Ah, that’s Dad. While we’re outside, your aunt said something about making pancakes and bacon.”
Ben smiled.
“Let’s go.” Taylor led the way into the kitchen at the same time his father came in through the garage. “Do you need any help? We can do it.” He pointed to Ben, then himself.
“Sure. There are a couple more sacks in the passenger front seat. Oscar is by the back door. I’ll let him out.”
As Ben headed for the garage behind Taylor, he stopped and glanced at Oscar.
Taylor laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We won’t be long. We’ll go out with Oscar in a minute. Let him get his business over with, then we’ll play fetch with him.”
A grin bigger than the last one transformed the child’s face.
Taylor and Ben quickly carried in the rest of the bags while Sierra helped his dad put up the groceries.
“I’ll call you when breakfast is ready,” Sierra said as Taylor and her nephew took their coats from the hook on the wall.
Taylor grabbed a tennis ball that Oscar hadn’t torn up yet and followed the child outside. The second Oscar saw them, he raced to them. Ben petted him, then held up the ball and threw it toward the back of the large fenced-in yard. While Oscar chased it, Taylor panned the area. He couldn’t let down his vigilance with Ben or Sierra.
* * *
After lunch, Sierra gave Taylor the last plate to put in the dishwasher. “Did you call Nash about the man in the car?”
“Yes. He’ll see what he can get, but as he crossed the street to check on the guy I wanted him to, he didn’t see a black car anywhere near the area.”
“So that means the person drove off between the time we left and you called him about the guy in the crowd.” She leaned against the counter, clutching the ledge. “I wonder if he was taking a picture of us instead of the building.”
“Or both. That’s definitely possible.” He walked toward the dining room, and Sierra followed.
“Did you tell John about what happened last night with Ben?”
“Yeah. He’s going to see if he’ll draw him a picture of it. If so, then he’ll ask him questions about his drawing, ones he can answer with a yes or no or point to something on the paper.” He sat in front of the computer he was using, and Sierra did the same. “He thought it was a good sign that he spoke out even though he was sleeping.” He shrugged. “I have a feeling he won’t remember anything. I never remember my dreams.”
“Sometimes I do, but usually they will fade from my memory quickly. I tried to get him to tell me last night. I asked him several questions, but he didn’t respond at all.”
“John and I are going to kick the soccer ball around with Ben at the end of his session. He thinks having Ben do physical exercise will help. He’s bottling up a lot of emotions and that can help him release them.”
Sierra sighed. “While I’m stuck in here going through the files, which hasn’t produced anything yet. Still no Charles or Charlie in them.” Sierra pulled up the next patient file on her computer.
“Anything close to those names?”
“One Charlotte and two Charlenes. I’ve gone through the three drawers we didn’t get to check. Now I’ll start at the beginning and go through the ones we looked at in my office.”
“Make notes on anything close, then we’ll dig deeper into those files. Don’t only look for Charlie but for anyone who was upset with the clinic or doctor.”
For almost an hour, she delved deep into the files, jotting down Bruce Lockhart, who got angry when he didn’t get the drugs he wanted, the Aikens, who were turned into Child Services because of suspected abuse of their little boy with a middle name of Charles, and a man who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease and didn’t take the news very well.
John popped his head into the room from the kitchen. “Ben is excited about kicking the soccer ball. Are you ready?”
Taylor put his laptop to sleep and rose. “I need some exercise. I’ve been sitting too long.” He slid his cell phone to Sierra. “Answer it if Nash calls and let me know what he found out.”
She nodded and watched the trio leave. She went back to work for another thirty minutes. When she finished five more patient files and added another possible name to her list, she decided to refill her water and move around. She paused at the kitchen window that overlooked the backyard.
Ben was running with the ball with John right behind him, as though trying to steal it away from her nephew. Suddenly he came to a halt and kicked it toward Taylor. Then as Joh
n tried to take the ball away from Taylor, he tapped it back to Ben, who kicked it into a makeshift goal. Ben jumped up and down, pumping his arm in the air. When he turned, she saw the biggest grin on his face. Seeing Ben having fun brought tears to her eyes. She pivoted away from the window, swiping the wetness from her cheeks.
The sound of Taylor’s cell phone drew her quickly back into the dining room. She snatched it off the table by her computer, looked at the screen and answered it. “Hello, Nash. I’m answering for Taylor. He’s outside right now with Ben.”
“Sierra?”
“Yes, sorry. I forgot to identify myself. Did you find out anything on the car and the person driving it?”
“I wish I had good news, but the car was stolen. We got a better photo of the driver from some of the video footage we got but haven’t been able to ID him yet.”
“Can you send the photo to this phone?”
“I will. I’ll keep y’all informed if we find the man or the car.”
“Thanks, Nash.”
Sierra sat down in front of her computer and started working where she left off. After a few moments, she found herself staring at the screen at the blinking cursor. She’d looked at the guy in the car, but she hadn’t been able to tell Taylor she knew him for sure. She hoped Nash had a better shot of him or Taylor could make it clearer on the one Robert took.
She hadn’t said anything to Taylor, but ever since Ben had said this is for Charlie, something had been bothering her. Did she know something? It was as if the nugget of information was at the edge of her thoughts, and every time she reached for it, it vanished from her mind.
“The search must not be producing any results,” John said from the doorway into the kitchen.
“I’m getting some names and a few cases where people weren’t pleased with the service at the clinic, but nothing that should make a person kill everyone.”
Lone Star Christmas Witness (Lone Star Justice Book 5) Page 10