Break Away

by Diane Benefiel

  “Which won’t do jack shit to stop a man with a gun from kicking in the door and shooting the dog and then you. Clauson knows every cop in the county will be after him. He’s either on the run or determined to finish his mission before he’s arrested or dead.” Levi’s expression turned even more grim. “I’ll sleep on your couch.”

  “You will not. I don’t want you in my house.”

  “Too bad. I’m staying. We’re both going to have to suck it up until this is over. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll stay until we stop whoever is stalking you, then I’ll find another place to live so we won’t have to see each other every time one of us steps outside.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Levi watched Zoey turn the Prius around and head down the driveway to the road, Lucy a bulky shadow in the backseat. He didn’t know when he’d ever been in a shittier mood. They’d spent the evening and morning ignoring each other. He didn’t like being pissed off, but he was angry with Zoey for buying into the bullshit spewed in the cesspool on the Internet, and for not getting his side of the story about the shooting first. It didn’t make him any less angry that he knew good and well she’d asked him what had happened. Twice. If he’d been up front with her, she might have gotten the facts from him and not gone looking online. But he’d wanted her to trust him first before he told her the details of what happened, and why he left the Oakland PD.

  Of the twenty words they’d said to each other this morning, he’d extracted a promise that she wouldn’t go out in the field today, that she would work from her office, and she’d alert her coworkers to be on the look-out for anyone acting suspiciously.

  Levi went to his cabin, where he put on his motorcycle gear, grabbed his go bag to strap to the rack, and headed for his bike. Once at the department, he changed into his uniform and sat through morning roll call, where Brad gave an update on the Hardesty case. While he listened, Levi mulled over what had been bugging him since the shooting the day before. He joined Brad in the break room after roll call.

  “I don’t think it was Clauson shooting at Zoey.”

  “Why’s that?” Brad asked.

  “For starters, Clauson is trained law enforcement. She and Lucy were out in the open. He’d have hit them.”

  “Could be he only wanted to scare her. What else you got?”

  “The shooter had to hike up a steep trail with a lot of switchbacks to get upslope from Zoey.” Levi shrugged. “Clauson’s at least a hundred pounds overweight, and the trail is at the eight-thousand-foot elevation mark. That’s a tough hike if you’re not in shape.”

  Brad nodded. “Agreed, but not impossible. Anything else?”

  “Yeah. Clauson never mentioned Zoey when we arrested him. He assumed we were there because his neighbor had complained about the music.” Levi rubbed his temple where a headache had settled. “There was child porn on his laptop, but no evidence that he’d put up that post targeting Zoey.” He shrugged. “The post, writing ‘slut’ in lipstick on her car window, the poisoned meat—rat poison, by the way, the labs came back—feels female to me.”

  “You’re thinking Charissa Winslow.”

  “I am. I don’t have anything concrete, but a bunch of small things are adding up. And I think she’s harassing Zoey because she thinks Zoey and I are together.”

  “You’re not?”

  “I don’t know what the hell we are right now, except not talking.”

  Brad shook his head. “Don’t blow it. You’re good together.”

  “What makes you think I’m the one blowing it?”

  “Work it out. I’ll send Jack to talk to Charissa, see if she admits to anything.”

  “Can we get a warrant to search her house?”

  “Looking for what?”

  “Rat poison, lipstick that matches what was on Zoey’s car. Those would prove the stalking charge.”

  Brad nodded. “Okay, I’ll see about getting the warrant. While we’re waiting, I want you to focus on finding Clauson. I’ve got a bad feeling about him.”

  Levi nodded. “We’ve got the child porn on his laptop, so he knows he’s done. If he’s not on the run, and I don’t think he is, he knows this will end with him in prison, or dead. Either way, my bet is he’ll go out with a big bang as his way of telling the world to fuck off.”

  ***

  Levi spent the morning doing the same kind of police work he’d done as a detective in Oakland. Lot of legwork. Since Logan Ross was a deputy with the sheriff’s department, Levi tapped him to ask around for anyone who remembered Clauson and might have heard from him in the last year. It had taken a couple hours, but Logan had reported back that a couple of old-timers remembered Clauson and said he’d been friends with the then sheriff. The consensus was that Clauson had seemed decent enough on the surface but had raised red flags after a few incidents involving female minors. No surprises there.

  Levi leaned back in his seat at his desk as he sipped coffee. He couldn’t get past his gut instinct that was telling him that it wasn’t Clauson harassing Zoey. He tried to think back over everything he remembered about Charissa Winslow. Which wasn’t a whole lot. She always seemed to be around, but on the fringes of his life in Hangman’s Loss going back to when he was a teenager. He frowned, turning over an idea, then pulled out his phone and opened his favorites list.

  “Hello, my boy.”

  “Hi, Mom. I’m doing an investigation and think you might have some helpful information.”

  “Me? What could I help you with?”

  “Tell me everything you know about Charissa Winslow.”

  He heard her sigh. “That poor woman. Is she in trouble?”

  “Not sure. Why is she a ‘poor woman’?”

  “Rough upbringing. Really rough early on. The father, I don’t recall his name, Bruce or Bill, abused both her and Darleen, her mother. Darleen wouldn’t leave him. I talked to her once, and she gave that pathetic ‘but I love him’ argument while her face was covered in bruises. I guess you’d say the problem solved itself because he got himself killed in a knife fight at a biker bar in Big Pine. Darleen had some family, but they were as poorly off as she was. My nonprofit helped her get on her feet and find a job, then helped her find a program that provided down payment assistance so she could buy a house. I think things settled down after that. Darleen passed away a year or so ago.”

  “What about Charissa?”

  “Charissa is one of those women who always seems to be trying too hard to find her place. It’s like at the baseball game Saturday. Everyone is there to support the teams, but she goes one step too far. Did you see that her jersey had ‘Gallagher’ printed on the back?”

  “Zoey noticed it, but I get what you mean. Anything else?”

  “She still lives in the house she shared with Darleen and she has a job as a clerk for the city. She seems brittle, like if you touched her she’d shatter in a million pieces.”

  “Okay, Mom. This helps. Thanks.”

  After disconnecting the call, Levi did a search on the computer and found Charissa’s address, then mentally traced how one would get to that location from his house. He’d chased a car that evening but had lost it when the driver had nearly caused an accident by cutting off a semi. The car had traveled in the general direction of Charissa’s house. Another search came up with her vehicle information. Ford Escape, silver, eight years old. It fit the vehicle he’d chased that night, and matched the description of the car Zoey had seen parked along the road when she’d been shot at.

  Brad walked into the bullpen. “IT says the post about Zoey originated from a city computer located in the office Charissa works in. She called in sick today, so Jack hasn’t spoken to her.”

  “We get a warrant to search her place?”

  “Yeah, just came in. Let’s go. Hopefully she’ll be there and we’ll bring her in for questioning.”

  Levi rode shotgun as Brad drove to Charissa Winslow’s home. They parked in the street in front of a small home with an overgrown yard. Jack pulled
up behind them in his cruiser. Brad and Jack went to the front door while Levi opened a side gate and went around the back of the house. Like the front, the tiny backyard was choked with weeds, the fence Charissa shared with a neighbor missing slats.

  The sound of the backdoor opening had Levi putting a hand on his sidearm until Jack poked his head through. “She’s not home. But, man, you gotta see this.”

  Levi entered the house and followed Jack down a short hallway to a tiny bedroom where Brad stood, scanning what looked like a hundred photos arranged on bulletin boards or picture frames around the room. Every one of them containing Levi’s image. He surveyed the array. He recognized one from when he’d been out during the holidays. There were several of him at Maddy’s café, even some of him checking out the bananas at the grocery store.

  “Holy shit.”

  Brad pointed at a long-distance image taken of the family barbecue in their mom’s backyard. “It was her across the arroyo. We’ll look for those binoculars and see if they’re missing a lens cap.” He shook his head. “You called it, brother. She’s got it bad for you. Sick bad, and she sees Zoey as a threat.”

  There were candles arranged around a trio of photos that looked enough like a shrine that Levi’s stomach rolled. Printed on computer paper, the center image showed Levi in the parking lot of Gio’s Pizza.

  “Look at this.” He pointed. “I’m wearing the practice jersey. This was that evening Zoey joined us after practice for pizza. We’d left together, and I was talking with her. The photo has been altered to take out Zoey and add Charissa and make it look like it’s her I’m talking to. Charissa must have been there.”

  He peered more closely. “From the angle, she was probably at the far end of the parking lot, maybe sitting in her car. That was the evening when a car drove into the driveway and I gave pursuit. I’m betting that was her.”

  Jack picked up a card from a stack, holding the cream-colored cardstock by the edges. “You getting married and not telling me, bud?”

  Levi looked at words printed in gold lettering with a curly script announcing the marriage of Levi James Gallagher to Charissa Louise Winslow. “Oh shit.”

  “The wedding is only a month out. I don’t know if I can make it on such short notice.”

  Levi’s, “Shut up, Jack,” had the other man laughing.

  Brad opened the closet door with a gloved hand and revealed a row of hanging dresses, all with sheer plastic covers. Each dress had a tag attached to the hanger. He lifted one, peered at it, then the next in the row. “Fuck.”

  Levi moved to peer into the closet while Brad pulled out his phone. One of the dresses was billowy and white and was obviously a wedding dress. The others were a kind of filmy material, all in the same pinkish color. He picked up a tag. “Maddy” had been scrawled in spidery writing. The next dress was tagged for Jenny, and one for Emma. “What the hell?”

  “Bridesmaids’ dresses,” Jack said. “You gonna have good food at the reception? I’ll only go if you’ll have good food. And if you allow kids. I’m not going if my kids aren’t invited.”

  “You’re a riot, Morgan.”

  “I’ve put out an APB for Charissa Winslow,” Brad announced. “We need to log all this as evidence. Jack, search the rest of the house, see if there’s more.”

  Levi moved to the doorway. “I’m going to Zoey’s office. I’m not leaving her side until Charissa and Clauson are found.”

  Brad handed Levi the keys to the police cruiser. “I’d do the same if she was my girl. Will she cooperate?”

  “Zoey’s not liking me right now, and probably she’ll accuse me of bullying cop authority, but she’ll have to suck it up.”

  ***

  Levi set his phone in the holder on the console as he drove and called Zoey. After several rings, it went to voicemail. He had no way of knowing if she didn’t pick up because she was pissed at him, or she wasn’t available. The tone sounded, and Levi spoke, “Zoey, stay at your office. I’m on my way there. Call me when you get this message.”

  He disconnected, the worry that had been nagging at him all morning intensifying by about a hundred-fold. What they’d found in Charissa’s house put her in the red zone on the bat-shit crazy scale. Add Clauson to the mix, and the feeling of impending danger was magnified.

  The Forest Service office’s front lobby was decorated with framed photos of area wildlife, and two men with backpacking gear were speaking with a uniformed ranger at the counter.

  Not willing to wait, Levi skirted the counter and strode through a doorway that opened to a wide office space. He circled the room so he could look in each of the cubicles. No Zoey. He approached a woman wearing civilian clothing who was standing at a copy machine. “I’m looking for Zoey Hardesty. You know where she is?”

  “She left a little while ago.” He stifled a groan when the woman batted her eyes. “Can I help you, officer?” She did a flip thing with her hair, never breaking eye contact.

  Ignoring the flirtation, he asked, “Do you know where she might have gone? It’s important.”

  “I’ll take you to her boss, he might know.” Leaving her copies in the machine, she crooked her finger to beckon Levi to follow her.

  The boss was more helpful, informing Levi that Zoey had left twenty minutes earlier to take Lucy home before a scheduled meeting with a California Fish and Wildlife biologist in Bishop later that afternoon.

  Figuring he might catch her, Levi got in the cruiser and used lights and sirens to race the five miles home.

  Damn it. She wasn’t there. He parked and got out. He knocked on her door, expecting to hear Lucy on the other side, but there was nothing. Zoey must have stopped somewhere and he’d beat her home. He crossed the driveway. He still had the spare key for the cottage from when the security company had installed alarms. He’d get the key from the cabin, take a peek inside Zoey’s house, see if maybe Lucy was there but snoozing, then figure out his next step.

  He was standing on his stoop, key in the lock, when a voice spoke from behind him.

  “Hello, Levi.”

  He turned slowly. Crazy-eyed with bleached blonde hair and lipstick too bright for her pale complexion, and what looked like a .30-30 resting in the crook of her arm, Charissa Winslow had her index finger on the trigger, and the muzzle of her rifle pointed at him center mass. Shit.

  “Charissa, what’s going on?”

  “Everything’s ready. All our friends will be there.”

  “Be where?” Keeping his voice calm, he turned to face her.

  “You know, silly. At our wedding. A Gallagher wedding will be the social event of the summer.”

  “Ah, I’m sure it will be. Hang on a sec.” He raised his hand slowly to the mic at his shoulder. He depressed the button, but when he would have spoken Charissa gestured with the gun.

  “No,” she screeched. “You’re going to call for backup. Put that down.”

  Levi released the mic. Dispatch would have already heard Charissa. “No problem. Why don’t you give me that gun so we can have a conversation? You can fill me in on the wedding plans.”

  Her smile bloomed across her face, showing small, even teeth. “Have you done your vows yet? I’m memorizing mine.”

  “No, I need to get to that. Maybe you can help me.”

  “I’d love to help you.”

  “Great. Give me the gun, Charissa.”

  She was going to do it. He could see the decision on her face. Then a gunshot ripped through the air with a loud report, hitting the side of the cabin. Charissa screamed and dropped to the ground, hands covering her ears, the rifle flying out of her hands.

  In one motion, Levi pushed the door open and grabbed her under the shoulders. She continued her high-pitched, keening cry as he hauled her inside. Another shot rang out, this one splintering wood in the doorframe before he could slam the door shut.

  “Shots fired, civilian down, injuries undetermined.” Mic in hand, Levi rattled off his address. “Shots came from high ground across
the road. Approach with caution.”

  Charissa lay curled on the floor.

  Levi dropped to his knees. “You hit?”

  She didn’t answer, but at least the screaming had wound down to whimpering. There was no blood visible. “Charissa, are you hurt?”

  She stopped whimpering to look at him. “You saved my life. I love you.”

  Shaking his head, Levi rose to his feet. He peeked out his front window, scanning the slope on the other side of the road, searching for the shooter’s location. Then he saw it, a man wearing a red shirt and dark pants and holding a rifle, moving almost nonchalantly from behind a tree.

  At that moment, Zoey’s Prius turned into the driveway. The clutch of panic nearly stopped his heart. He battled it back so he could think clearly. Zoey’s life depended on it.

  He whipped his head around. “Is that thirty-thirty fully loaded?” he demanded.

  Charissa stared at him blankly.

  “Stay inside.” With no time to waste, he rushed out the door, grabbing the rifle off the ground by its strap and slinging it across his back even as he took off for the front of the cottage.

  He pulled out his service weapon and shot off six rounds in quick succession. Zoey parked next to the police vehicle and opened the door to step out. “Get in front of the cruiser, Zoey. Leave the dog and get to cover. There’s a shooter across the street.”

  Zoey stared at him for a split second, eyes wide, then ignoring his command opened the back door of her car.

  Across the street, an empty meadow sloped upward to a ridge. Levi caught a flash of red between pine trees and, shooting in that direction, emptied his Glock as he ran. He wasn’t likely to hit Clauson, but he’d keep him pinned down. Levi grabbed Zoey around the waist and pulled her with him for cover in front of the cruiser.

  She squirmed in his hold. “I won’t leave Lucy.” More shots rang out and the rear window of the police vehicle shattered. Sirens sounded in the distance. He let go of Zoey and grabbed his mic, telling the responding officers to cut the sirens and giving them a more precise location for the shooter.