Beyond Risk

by Connie Mann

  Charlee bit her lip, decided not to mention Tommy’s death. Not yet. Her father had enough to worry about right now. “Just wondering how her tests went. I’ll call her later to check in. Give Mom a kiss for me and call me the minute she wakes up, okay? Love you.”

  “Love you, too, sugarplum.”

  * * *

  He drove away from Tommy’s place, heartbroken and furious. This should never have happened. Never! Tommy was dead, and it was all Charlee Tanner’s fault. She’d caused this. If she hadn’t come snooping around with that know-it-all Boudreau, none of this would have happened. It wouldn’t have been necessary.

  But they’d come to Tommy’s place, the two of them, making eyes at each other, asking questions, too many questions. Tommy had crumpled like cheap toilet paper. He’d admitted as much. Had told him he’d been thinking about what happened a year ago and how some of the things he was starting to remember were confusing him. He’d broken down and cried like a baby about his son’s death, mumbling all kinds of nonsense. The incoherent ramblings of a drunk.

  But some of it wasn’t nonsense.

  He couldn’t let Tommy have some sort of attack of conscience and start telling tales to the wrong people.

  He banged a fist against the steering wheel. This was all her fault. He’d never wanted this to happen. Never. Tommy wasn’t supposed to die. But Charlee and her meddling had given him no choice. Now his death became one more sin in her long list of sins. She would be punished for it. She’d wish she’d never been born before he was done with her.

  He parked the truck and sat for a moment, hands tight on the steering wheel, squeezing, squeezing, wishing it was her neck. He’d enjoy watching the life drain out of her. But no. She wouldn’t die like that. He had to stay focused. No matter how tempting it seemed, that would be too easy. He had lots more suffering in mind for her before he let her slip away.

  Sweat beaded his forehead, and he slowly let go of the wheel, deliberately slowing his breathing. He had to collect his thoughts, get his emotions under control. He was home. He couldn’t let his feelings show, or he’d have to answer more questions.

  He stepped out of the vehicle and pasted a smile on his face before he opened the door and went inside.

  “Hey, how was your day?”

  Chapter 22

  As Hunter drove away from Tommy Jennings’s place, something nagged at Charlee like an itch in the middle of her back she couldn’t reach. She crossed her arms and chewed the inside of her cheek while she tried to figure it out.

  “You focus any harder, cher, you’ll catch fire.”

  Charlee smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood. “Just thinking.”

  “Something’s bugging you. What?”

  The picture of Tommy’s lifeless body under the water flashed through her mind, and she forced herself to examine the scene from every angle. “Tommy didn’t have any bruising around his neck, like Brittany. Between that and the drag marks in the mud, we know the tree limb didn’t fall on him. The killer dragged it over there.”

  “That’s what it looks like, yes.”

  Charlee took a deep breath. “So Tommy was probably alive when he went into the creek.” She shivered and locked her emotions up so she could think logically. She looked at Hunter. “Knocked out?” For Tommy’s sake, she desperately hoped so.

  “That’s the working theory. He had a pretty significant head wound. No blood on the limb, though, so we’re thinking the killer hit him with something else first.”

  Although she really didn’t want to think about it, Charlee’s mind flashed back to finding Pete facedown along the riverbank, and her eyes widened. “He didn’t try to hold Pete down.”

  Hunter’s eyes snapped to hers. “Which means either we found Pete quicker than he expected, or, he wanted to be sure Tommy drowned. That’s good police work, cher. Sure you don’t want to come back?”

  “No, thanks. Two cops in the family is quite enough. I’ll just, ah, stick to running the Outpost.”

  “I get the impression that’s not something you really want to do, either.”

  Charlee wanted to squirm but held herself still. “That’s been the plan for a while now. Once Mom recovers from the stroke, she and Dad are going to do some traveling. With this, though, her recovery may be pushed back by several more months.”

  “But you don’t really want to run the Outpost.”

  Charlee bristled. “How do you know what I do or don’t want to do?”

  “Don’t get riled. It’s just an observation. I’ve seen you when you’re baking and when you’re at the Corner Café. Your whole body lights up, and you’re, I don’t know, you. Same when we talk about the investigation. I’ve seen you drive up to the Outpost, too, and it’s like all the life drains out of you. You get out of the car dragging your paws like my old hound dog on his way to the vet. You weren’t like that before. You loved every minute on the water.”

  When Charlee just narrowed her eyes at him, he said, “Plans and dreams can change, and that’s okay. Just make sure you aren’t giving up what you love because of what happened last year. That would be letting him win.”

  Charlee thought she might explode. “It’s not okay to change plans,” she burst out. “Not if that would change your parents’ plans, too. I made a commitment. I can’t back out now.”

  He reached over and patted her hand. “I’m sorry I said anything. Now is not the time to make big decisions. First, let’s find this guy.”

  Charlee slapped his hand away. “Will you stop patronizing me?”

  He shook his head, blew out a breath. “Either I’m not communicating, or you’re not hearing me. It’s okay if you change your mind about the Outpost, Charlee. You and your parents will work something out. You love each other. I’d just hate to see you give up what you really love out of misplaced guilt.”

  Why couldn’t the man understand? “I hate being on the river now.” The words popped out, and she looked out the window to hide her shame.

  The silence stretched for several minutes before Hunter said, “After I made sure everyone involved with Ace’s crew was behind bars, I turned in my badge and gun. Said I was done. Then I went home and lost myself in a bottle for a while.”

  Charlee glanced his way. “What pulled you out? Made you become a cop again?”

  He shot her a quick grin. “When I wouldn’t answer my phone, my partner finally showed up at my door, poured out my booze, shoved me into a cold shower, and had coffee and a new case file waiting for me after. When I got done cussing him out for sticking his nose in my business, I called my captain, who said he’d stashed my gun and badge in his desk drawer until I got my head on straight. I still had to get cleared by the department shrink, but after that, I went back to work.”

  “And the first time you had to pull your gun?” She didn’t try to hide the accusation in her tone.

  His smile turned rueful. “You don’t miss a thing, do you, cher? I made myself go to the range every single day—until the flashbacks didn’t control me anymore and my hands quit shaking.”

  “Just like that. You make it sound so easy.”

  He laughed. “No. Not easy. I almost changed my mind because I wasn’t sure I could do it. But it was necessary to get back to what I was made to do.”

  “Well, bully for you. I’ve been back on the water for a year. It’s not any easier. Since Brittany…it’s even worse.” But she wanted it to get better so badly, sometimes she couldn’t breathe. “At least no one will die if my cupcakes are dry.”

  He snorted at her attempt at humor. “Finding this guy will help. None of it has been your fault, cher. I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

  Charlee didn’t want to hear it. None of it changed how she felt. She forced her mind back to the day JJ died and then thought about Tommy’s death. She turned toward Hunter. “Has Byte found any info on Ja
mes Jennings? Where is he now? And does he have an alibi for the time of Tommy’s death?”

  Hunter was dialing Byte almost before she finished asking the questions. He listened, then said, “Okay, keep digging. See what you can find.” He glanced her way. “Byte’s been looking but hasn’t found any record of James anywhere. No paper trail. Nothing. Do you know anything that might help find him?”

  Charlee replayed the day in her mind and came up blank. “Nothing except that he seemed to make Tommy cower, and Sally seemed to hate him. But nothing that would help us find him.”

  “If there’s anything to be found, Byte will find it.”

  Her emotions in a knot, Charlee pushed them aside and focused on the carnival coming up ahead. Just seeing the giant Ferris wheel, the mini roller coasters, and the rides she’d always loved helped settle her heart rate. She rolled down the window and absorbed the smell of popcorn and grease. The carnival wouldn’t open for another couple of hours, so they should have time to talk to the workers. If they were on-site.

  Hunter drove around to the open field where the workers set up their trailers and campers. They headed toward a cluster of people, who immediately stopped talking to glare in their direction.

  “What do you want?” a heavyset woman on the wrong side of sixty growled.

  Charlee stepped forward. “Hi, I’m a friend of Sammy’s and wanted to ask him a couple of questions.”

  The woman folded her arms over an ample chest and shifted so she blocked Charlee’s path. “What kind of questions? Sammy don’t need no trouble.”

  Charlee held both palms up. “He’s not in any trouble. Not at all. But I’m hoping he recognizes this picture.” She reached behind her, and Hunter put his phone in her hand, Tommy’s picture facing out. She held it out. “Have you seen this man here this week?”

  She shook her head. “He don’t work here.”

  “Was he a guest? Do you remember seeing him here at the carnival?”

  The woman eyed her for a moment, then threw her head back and laughed. When she sobered, she said, “We see hundreds of people every night, more on weekends. Why would I recognize this dude?”

  Charlee decided not to mention Tommy’s death. “I was hoping you might. And I wanted to ask Sammy the same thing. Could you point me toward his trailer?”

  The woman spat into the dirt near Hunter’s feet. “If Sammy ain’t in no trouble, what’s this one doing here?”

  Hunter stepped up, slid an arm around Charlee’s waist. “Just giving a pretty lady a ride, that’s all.”

  The woman guffawed at that. “You’re a slick talker, I give you that. But I ain’t no fool.” She waved a hand toward an older but immaculate trailer not far away. “Sammy been staying there with Tool Man. But if I hear you gave our boy any trouble, you’ll answer to me.” She glared at Hunter.

  “Yes, ma’am. We just want to show him the picture.” He scanned the rest of the group, who eyed them suspiciously. “Any of the rest of you folks seen this man recently?” He held out the phone. None gave it more than a passing glance, and all shook their heads no. “Thanks for your time.” He tucked the phone away as they walked toward the trailer.

  “Not exactly warm and welcoming, are they?” Charlee said.

  “Protective of Sammy, which I can appreciate.”

  “None of them looked like they’d seen Tommy.”

  “Didn’t appear so, no.”

  When they reached the Tool Man’s trailer, Charlee walked up the steps and knocked on the door. “Sammy, it’s Charlee. Are you there?”

  The door swung open, and Sammy appeared, a smile on his face but clearly troubled. “Hi, Charlee. What are you doing here? We don’t open for a couple more hours.” His smile turned down at the corners when he spotted her empty hands. “You didn’t bring me any cupcakes.”

  “I’m sorry, Sammy. Coming here was a last-minute decision, or I would have.”

  “Did you come to see where I work?” He hurried out, and Charlee backed down before he trampled her, eager as a puppy. He started walking toward the midway, and Charlee and Hunter quickened their pace to keep up.

  He didn’t stop until they came to one of those shooting games with little ducks everywhere. Sammy pointed to the huge stuffed animals hanging above their heads. “Those are the best prizes. I love it when I can give those away.” He indicated some smaller stuffed animals and little toys. “These are the other prizes, in case people don’t win. They’re called, con-con… I don’t know the word.”

  “Consolation prizes?” Charlee asked.

  He beamed. “That’s what they’re called. You’re smart, Charlee. And pretty, too.” He ducked his head, and a blush crept up his cheeks.

  “Thank you, Sammy.” Hunter pressed his phone into her hand, and Charlee held it up so Sammy could see. “Have you seen this man here before, Sammy?”

  Sammy’s eyes widened, and then he quickly averted his gaze and started shaking his head from side to side. “Don’t know him.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. But have you seen him? Has he been here?”

  Sammy just kept shaking his head, getting more and more agitated. Charlee tried another approach. “A nice lady told me you’re staying with the Tool Man.”

  Sammy gave an uncertain nod. “He’s been real nice to me. Teaching me things, like how to cook eggs and shoot a gun.”

  Charlee and Hunter exchanged a look.

  “But he doesn’t want me to drive the truck. He says I’m not very good at it.” He looked up, and his smile reappeared. “But I can ride my bike to the café to get cupcakes.”

  “I’m glad! It’s always good to see you. Is the Tool Man home, Sammy? Maybe he’s seen this man.”

  Sammy was shaking his head before Charlee finished speaking. “We shouldn’t bother him. He’s in a bad way today, so I just stay out of his way.”

  “Do you mean he’s not in a good mood today?”

  Another shrug. “He don’t like it when I bother him. And when he’s talking to himself, he gets real mad if I answer.” He looked up, eyes wide and confused, and Charlee’s heart melted. “How am I supposed to know when he’s talking to me or himself?”

  “Does he ever hurt you when you answer?”

  Sammy seemed to pull further into himself, and Charlee glanced at Hunter. “He been real good to me, like a dad, I guess, so I know I have to get punished when I do things wrong. But he takes good care of me.”

  “Is he home now?”

  Sammy wouldn’t meet her eyes. “He was. But I don’t think he is now.” He glanced off behind the trailers. “The Tool Man doesn’t like no strangers coming around.”

  Charlee looked over her shoulder but couldn’t see what he was looking at. “Does the Tool Man go by another name, Sammy?”

  Sammy smiled then. “He says it’s cool to have a nickname, like a movie star. If I do good, he’ll let me have a nickname, too.” Then his face fell. “But I haven’t been doing so good lately.”

  Charlee knew to tread lightly. “We all make mistakes, Sammy. Have you made some?”

  “I was only trying to help!” The words burst out of Sammy, and then he hurried back toward the trailer. “Bye, Charlee,” he called over his shoulder.

  The door slammed shut. Charlee looked at Hunter, who had both eyebrows raised, and they walked back to his truck in silence.

  Once they were back on the road, Charlee said, “He’s worried about something but can’t put it into words.”

  “Or he knows exactly what’s wrong, and he’s afraid to put it into words.”

  “Could be either one.” She sighed. “So how do we find this Tool Man? Come back tonight?” Charlee asked.

  “That’s what I’m thinking.” Hunter listened to several voicemails, then punched an address into the GPS. “First, we need to talk to Sally and Nora.” He glanced at her. “You going to be okay w
ith that?”

  Charlee would rather have dental surgery than have to deal with more of Sally Jennings’s accusations, but she nodded grimly. What choice did she have? She was all in now. She couldn’t stop any more than Hunter could. They had to figure out who wanted Tommy Jennings dead. Because maybe that would make all the rest of the puzzle pieces line up to show them who the killer was.

  Just as she braced herself to deal with Sally, her cell phone rang. The number was local, but she didn’t recognize it. “Hello?”

  “Where are you, Charlee?” Travis demanded. “I told you I have a test today, and I need a really good grade on it. You’re going to make me late.”

  “How did you get this number, Travis?”

  “From your dad. He’s still at the hospital. Oh, but good news, he said your mom is starting to wake up. So, when are you getting here?”

  Hunter must have heard the conversation, for he swung the truck in a sharp U-turn that had Charlee clutching the door handle.

  “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in…” She glanced at Hunter.

  “Twenty minutes,” he supplied.

  “Twenty minutes,” she repeated. “Sorry about that, Travis. I totally forgot.” She hung up and dialed her father. “Hey, Dad. I hear Mom is waking up.”

  “She is, and her smile is as beautiful as ever. A little lopsided, but gorgeous.”

  Charlee felt her throat close at his obvious love for her mother and ability to rejoice in the smallest of victories. Thank you, Jesus. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “Are you at the Outpost? Travis called me in a panic. Something about a test today. I gave him your number.”

  “He called me. Thanks, Dad. He says he’d told me about taking a trip out for him today, but I don’t remember.” Which really bugged her. Had he told her?

  “Easy enough to do with all that’s been happening.” He paused. “With his crush on you, I just realized I probably shouldn’t have given him your number.”

  “It’s okay. You just take care of Mom.”

  “I’ll tell him he’s never to use that number again. I’m sorry.”