Beyond Risk

by Connie Mann

  “Why did he say he needed that time? Was he trying to make up for something?”

  “You mean besides being a terrible husband and lousy father?”

  “Can you tell me specifically what you mean by lousy father?”

  Hunter heard a dramatic sigh and waited. “Look, I don’t doubt he loved her and Wyatt, too, even though he was a total jerk. He tried. But he had some…issues. And sometimes Brittany got caught in the middle of them.”

  “What kind of issues, Ms. Harris? I’m not asking you to create problems for your ex-husband. But I am investigating a murder.”

  She gasped and sniffled some more at the word murder. “He had a temper, okay? A bad one. As long as he kept it under control, everything went okay. But if sales weren’t good that month, he got tense. And after our marriage started to fall apart, well, there was lots of stress. He didn’t always deal with it very well.”

  “Did he hit you?”

  “He slapped me in the face once, hard. That’s when I kicked him out.”

  “What about Brittany? Did he hit her?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought he’d ever raise a hand to either of us, but yeah, he slapped her, too. And that night, he grabbed her arms and shook her like a rag doll.” She stopped, blew her nose. “After that, we both had very limited contact with him.”

  “Did he hit Wyatt?”

  “I think so, but Wyatt always denied it, wouldn’t let me see.”

  “In your mind, is it possible he suffocated Brittany?”

  Hunter held the phone tighter as the silence stretched. He pulled the phone away to see if the call had been dropped. It hadn’t.

  “I would never have thought I could say this, but I have seen Paul in one of his rages, and if something set him off, yes, I think he could have hurt our daughter and not realized what he had done until later.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Harris.”

  “You catch my daughter’s killer, Lieutenant Boudreau.” She blew her nose. “No matter who it is.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I plan to.”

  He hung up and turned to Charlee, who had poured a glass of sweet tea and watched him over the rim, worry in her eyes. “Did you hear from Pete?”

  She shook her head. “No. And Josh can’t get him on the phone either. It’s not like him to blow us off. Or to miss church.”

  “Why don’t we swing by his place and see if he’s there before we go talk to Paul Harris again. I want to know if his story matches his wife’s version.”

  “It’s weird that he’s still here. I would have thought he’d go home after he made bail. Liz said somebody told her they’ve seen him on the riverbank, pacing, and in the hospital outside the room she was in, crying.”

  “Grief affects people in different ways, cher.”

  “Or it could be that he killed her and he can’t deal with it.”

  Hunter didn’t say anything. He simply nodded as they went out to his truck.

  * * *

  Charlee’s agitation grew when they went by Pete’s place and there was no sign of him. His house was locked, no truck in the driveway. Charlee called him again, left another message.

  Hunter didn’t want to jump to conclusions and send out the cavalry if Pete just needed a little alone time, but given all that was happening, he didn’t want to underreact, either. He turned to Charlee as they pulled up at the hotel, squeezed her hand. “Let’s talk to Harris and then see if we can track Pete down, okay?”

  At her relieved nod, he straightened and knocked on the door. “Lieutenant Boudreau, FWC, Mr. Harris. I have a few more questions.”

  Harris swung the door open, growled, “What now? Vials of my blood? Why do you people keep harassing me instead of finding who did this to my daughter?” If anything, Paul Harris looked worse today than when he’d shown up soaking wet during the storm. Haggard, gaunt, hungover. He’d aged decades in the past week.

  “We won’t take up much of your time, sir. Just a few more questions.”

  Paul opened the hotel room door wider and gestured them inside. They stepped over the threshold into what looked like a more expensive version of Travis’s cabin, with smelly clothes strewn about and empty pizza boxes littering the dresser.

  Once they were inside, Hunter stood, hands in reach of his gun, as always. He gestured Paul toward one of the beds. Paul plopped down, and Charlee sat in one of the two chairs at the little table in the corner.

  “So, Paul, I have to ask why you didn’t mention your court-ordered anger management classes last time we talked.”

  Harris leaped to his feet and paced the small space. “What does that have to do with my daughter’s death?”

  Hunter shifted his weight, demeanor relaxed, but kept his eyes steady on Paul’s. “That’s what we’re here to find out. The medical examiner said there were old bruises on Brittany’s upper arms. What do you know about that?”

  Paul’s face paled, and he wouldn’t meet Hunter’s eyes. Gotcha, dirtbag. But whether the guilt was over hurting his daughter or killing her, Hunter didn’t know yet. Paul shoved a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, I have some issues, but I’m dealing with them. It was mostly a misunderstanding, anyway. But I got a little angry when my wife announced she was leaving me and taking my daughter and son away from me forever.”

  “So you hit her.”

  Paul nodded miserably.

  “And you grabbed Brittany to try to make her see your side of it.”

  Paul nodded again. “I didn’t want to lose either one of my girls.”

  “But your wife called the cops, and you had to go to classes.”

  “I had it under control. I didn’t need a stupid class.”

  “What about Wyatt? Did you hit him, too?”

  His silence was answer enough.

  “Did you suffocate your daughter, Paul?”

  “What? Oh God, no. Never. You’ve got it all wrong. If that’s what you think, that I’d ever hurt a hair on my baby girl’s head…” He collapsed back onto the bed in a fit of sobbing.

  Hunter felt for the man’s loss. But hitting women and children? Not okay, ever. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Harris.”

  Charlee followed him out the door and back to his official truck. She hadn’t said a word the whole time.

  “I think he has a temper, but I don’t think he killed Brittany,” Charlee said as they headed out of the parking lot.

  As much as he wanted to make an arrest, he agreed with Charlee. And they didn’t have a single shred of evidence linking him to Brittany’s murder. Or linking anyone else to it, either. No fingerprints, no DNA, nothing but speculation and circumstantial evidence.

  Which meant the perp was not only smart, but he had a carefully crafted plan.

  Hunter dialed Pete’s cell again, and when it went straight to voicemail, he left another message.

  His gut said they had to find him. Fast.

  Chapter 18

  Josh hadn’t heard from Pete, either, nor had their parents. Beside Hunter, Charlee paced the length of the kitchen. She’d already called everyone who might have seen him and gotten nothing. Josh had done the same.

  “Hey, Byte, sorry to call on your day off, but this can’t wait,” Hunter said into his cell.

  “No problem, Lieutenant. What do you need?”

  “Can you run a cell number for me, see if you can get a GPS lock on it?”

  “Sure.” He heard keys clacking in the background. “Give me the number.”

  He rattled it off and waited. It wasn’t long before Byte said, “Got it,” and read him the GPS coordinates. “The signal isn’t moving. But this is Bulldog’s—”

  “You’re the best, man. Thanks. Do me a favor and don’t mention this search, would you?” If Pete was merely taking a break, or maybe had a lady his siblings didn’t know about, he didn’t want to embarrass
him.

  Without missing a beat, Byte asked, “What search?”

  Hunter thanked him and hung up. He looked at Charlee. “We have a location.” They hurried out to the truck, and Hunter kept his foot hard on the accelerator as they headed for another remote spot along the river.

  Charlee gripped her hands together, panic in every line of her lovely face. “Can’t you go any faster?”

  “Easy, cher. We’re getting there.” He smiled to ease the tension. “And just so you know, if for some reason we find your brother along the banks with a fishing pole in the water or having a picnic with a pretty lady, I’m blaming you.”

  Charlee sent him a weak smile. “I hope that’s all it is, but I don’t think so.” She speared him with a glance. “And neither do you.”

  Hunter nodded and sped up. When they burst through the trees and saw Pete’s truck near the riverbank, they were both out of Hunter’s vehicle almost before it stopped.

  “Pete!” Charlee screamed as they spotted his body lying in the mud.

  They dropped to their knees in the water beside him. He was lying on his back, covered in mud, eyes closed, much too still. There was no visible sign of injury. No blood that Hunter could see. His heart pounded as he shook his friend’s shoulders. “Pete! Can you hear me?”

  “Pete!” Charlee shouted. “Wake up!”

  Hunter leaned over to check for a pulse, and Pete shoved him backward into the mud.

  “What are you doing?” Pete’s eyes popped open, confusion and pain in their depths. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh God, Pete. You’re okay.” Charlee leaned over and kissed his muddy cheek.

  Pete struggled to a sitting position, and Hunter put an arm around his back to help him up.

  “What happened out here, man? Are you hurt?” Hunter saw the back of his head. “You’re bleeding.” He grabbed Pete’s chin, looked into his eyes, checked for concussion. “What is it with you Tanners and head wounds? Good thing you all have skulls like rocks.”

  Pete looked around, blinked. He reached back, touched the back of his head, winced. “It’s hard to remember.”

  “What brought you way out here?” Hunter asked.

  Pete thought a moment. “A phone call. Yeah. Somebody said they had information on the case and told me to meet them here.”

  Hunter made a mental note to have Byte check Pete’s call log. “And then what?”

  “There was nobody here. I was about to leave when I got hit in the back of the head.”

  “You could have drowned, you dang fool. Why’d you come alone?” Charlee asked.

  “We don’t have many leads, so I was hoping this would be one. We need a break in the case.”

  “What else do you remember? Did you hear a voice? A vehicle? Anything?” Hunter wanted the crime scene techs out here, pronto, to see if they could get any footprints or tire treads. Anything that would help.

  “No, I can’t rememb—wait. Yes. There was someone else here. Not right away, I don’t think.” He cocked his head. “I remember being turned over onto my back, coughing up water, and a voice saying, ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Don’t die.’”

  Hunter and Charlee exchanged glances.

  “Let’s get you to the ER and get you checked out. I’ll call it in.”

  “I don’t need—” Pete started.

  “Don’t start with me. You’re going.” Charlee’s voice brooked no argument.

  As they got Pete settled on a log to wait for EMS, Hunter studied the area and thought this just might be the break they’d been looking for.

  I’m going to get you, you slimy son of a gun.

  * * *

  Charlee sat on the log beside Pete while the EMTs wrapped gauze around his head and prepared to transport him. When he protested again, Charlee shoved her face in his and hissed, “Don’t argue, Bulldog. This guy has already tried to kill one of my brothers. He won’t get to hurt another.”

  Pete opened his mouth to argue, but something in her expression registered, for he gentled his tone. “I’ll be fine, Charlee. So is Josh. Like Hunter said, we have hard heads.” He met her eyes, his worried. “And so do you, squirt. He’s tried to hurt you, too.”

  At that reminder, Charlee’s worry increased. She kissed his cheek as the EMTs loaded the gurney into the ambulance, then whipped out her phone and called her sister, Natalie.

  “Hey, little sister? How are you?”

  “What’s wrong, Charlee? You sound weird.”

  “I’m fine. Pete, though, got himself a concussion and is being transported to the hospital as we speak. But he is laughing and talking, and his head is as hard as the rest of ours, so he’ll be fine. Just wanted to let you know.”

  “This is me you’re talking to, Charlee. Not Mom. Cut the gentle crap and tell me what really happened.”

  Charlee sighed. “We don’t know yet. Somebody called him saying they had information on the case, but when he got there, they whacked him on the head and knocked him out.” She decided not to mention how close he’d come to drowning. “Look, Nat, I think you should come home.”

  “I can’t, Charlee. I have classes, exams. But I’m always around people.”

  Charlee rubbed her forehead. “If you won’t come home, we need to get you some protection.”

  “What? No. I’ll be fine.” Then she chuckled. “You’re not going to make the stranger-danger speech, are you?”

  Charlee hid a smile. “No, since you say you know it.” Then she sobered. “We don’t know who or why yet, Nat, but it seems somebody has targeted our family. Please, please be careful, okay? And check in regularly so we know you’re okay.”

  There was a long pause, and her voice was more serious than Charlee could remember it being. “I will. I promise. Love you, Sis. Kiss that big lug for me, too, okay?”

  “Will do. Love you, too.” Charlee hung up and sat on the log, watching Hunter and the other officers work, taking molds of footprints and tire treads, dusting Pete’s truck for prints, taking pictures. Part of her wished she was in the middle of the action, gathering evidence. But then she decided there were advantages to being a free agent.

  She sat very still, studying the surrounding area, shuffling through the facts of the case, one by one.

  It wasn’t long before that familiar feeling returned. She’d bet money she was being watched.

  Chapter 19

  Charlee was relieved when morning finally came. It seemed like she’d spent the night tossing and turning as her mind went over the facts of the case or trying to save Brittany from drowning and waking herself with a muffled scream. It was exhausting, and the guilt weighed her down like a shroud. She’d been tempted to ask Hunter to join her in the bed, just so she wouldn’t be alone with her nightmares, but that was selfish, and her pride wouldn’t let her. He’d been in warrior mode since they’d found Pete, so she figured he needed sleep even more than she did.

  When she dragged herself out of bed and to the kitchen, she found him hunched over his computer, looking like he hadn’t slept at all.

  “Morning, cher. Hospital says Pete’s doing fine, no skull fractures. Lab says he was given a mild dose of the party drug GHB, so he’ll be released in a bit, but we haven’t figured out yet how it got in his system. The sheriff’s deputy who kept watch outside his room said all was quiet there last night.” He met her eyes. “I also talked to Josh. He’s got a sheriff’s deputy friend from Gainesville watching Natalie. He says everything was quiet there, too.”

  Relieved, Charlee poured coffee and sank down at the table across from him. “You’ve been busy. Did you sleep at all?”

  “I’ll sleep when we catch this guy.”

  His simple statement made her love him even more, though she’d never say that out loud. He was putting her family ahead of himself, quietly and without fanfare. “Thank you for checking i
n on Pete and Natalie. And thanks for the coffee.” She took a sip, held the mug with both hands. “I still can’t believe someone is targeting our family. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “We don’t know why yet, but we will, cher.”

  The house phone rang, and she offered up a silent prayer before she answered. Please, no more bad news. “Charlee, girl, how are you this morning?”

  “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

  “I hate to bother you, but with everything going on, I forgot I have my six-month appointment with my cardiologist this morning. Any chance you can stay with your mom while I go?”

  “Of course. When do you need me there? Sure, you go on. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, okay? Perfect.” She hung up and filled Hunter in.

  “That works, since the captain scheduled a meeting this morning about the case. He’s assigning more manpower. Some of the sheriff’s department will be there, too. I’ll drop you off on the way.”

  Charlee rinsed her cup and grabbed her backpack off the counter, checked her gun. “I’ll take my Jeep. I don’t want to be stuck without a vehicle if Mom needs something.”

  “You won’t go anywhere else?”

  “Scout’s honor. I’m not giving this lunatic any more opportunities to hurt one of us.”

  “Text me when you get there.”

  Charlee rolled her eyes. “I’m going five minutes away.”

  His voice hardened. “Text me anyway.”

  “Yes, Mother,” she drawled as he walked out the door. But she didn’t argue. Things were coming to a head. She felt it, too.

  After Hunter left, her little place suddenly felt too big, too quiet. She’d gotten used to having him with her all the time.

  She climbed into her ancient Jeep and patted the dash. “I’ve missed you, girl.”

  She hadn’t gone far when the heard the ominous thump-thump-thump. Oh, come on. She stopped the Jeep and climbed out to walk around the vehicle. Flat tire. Of course.