The Hunting Season

by Janice Kay Johnson - His Best Friend's Baby

  But disciplined in one way didn’t mean he could study to commit a series of murders without being seen, without leaving any trace evidence.

  Cousins might have that kind of discipline if he was truly dedicated to a goal—but nothing about him had sent up a flare for Daniel.

  And then there was Glenn, who still hung around the CPS offices, continued to befriend Lindsay in particular, but offered advice and support to other caseworkers, too. Glenn, Daniel had only recently discovered, had been there the day Lindsay got the call about Shane Ramsey collapsing after his uncle beat him.

  Daniel hadn’t so much as hinted to Lindsay recently that Glenn was still on his radar. Her affection for the man she called a mentor blinded her where he was concerned. On the other hand, Daniel had gained a lot of respect for her ability to judge people. Glenn might be as great a guy as she thought he was.

  Deciding this was a good time to change the subject, he smiled. “Hope you like quesadillas. That’s what we’re having tonight.”

  “You mean I don’t have to cook?”

  He laughed. “Your house, you cooked, my house, I cook.”

  “Works for me,” she said. “Might be a long time before I have to cook again.”

  The humor didn’t quite come off.

  He reached for her hand, and she returned his clasp.

  “YOU EVER DONE any shooting?”

  Daniel’s question came out of left field, but she should have expected it.

  Spreading pico de gallo atop her black bean quesadilla, she said, “Yes, when I was thirteen… No, maybe fourteen. I wasn’t in that home very long. The man was a gun nut, and after the police came out to the house because he’d taken his AK-15 along to issue a threat to a neighbor, we kids got moved.”

  Daniel offered her sour cream. “Sounds like a winner.”

  “He freaked us out.” She wrinkled her nose. “I swear the guy owned fifty guns or more. He talked about being ready to defend his family when the government came to try to take away his weapons.” She paused. “He must not have mentioned them when he was interviewed by social services.”

  Daniel laughed, although he was watching her more perceptively than she liked. “Another reason behind your career path.”

  “Maybe. He wasn’t abusive, though.”

  He said something harsh under his breath, and she realized she’d put too much emphasis on the he. Yes, she’d been placed in homes where people meant to protect her had hurt her instead. In one home, she’d had to drag her dresser in front of the bedroom door at night to keep the man out. That one had been bad; she’d just reached puberty and been self-conscious as it was about her developing body. Vulnerable, afraid to speak out, she’d gotten lucky when the foster mom complained to the caseworker about the scratches on the bedroom floor. The caseworker had her pack up and removed her from the home within the hour.

  Yet another reason for her life choices, of course.

  “Weren’t you ever in a home where people were good to you?” he asked, a roughness in his voice.

  “Yes, I stayed in the same home my last three years. I still call and occasionally visit my foster parents.” She hesitated. “I’m sure they’d take me in now, but—”

  She could tell he didn’t like the idea, but he said, “But?”

  “They always have three or four kids living with them. I couldn’t put them at risk.”

  “I wouldn’t let you,” he said shortly, and resumed eating.

  She did the same. He continued with the questions about her childhood, and she told him more than she’d intended. More than she usually told anyone. If she had caught even a whiff of pity, she’d have shut down, but Daniel’s reactions were never what she considered the norm.

  They had finished eating and she was clearing the table as he started the coffee when her phone rang. Made instantly wary, she went to grab it from her handbag. Glenn was the caller.

  Relaxing, she signaled to Daniel, who nodded, and she took the phone into the part of the open space situated to form a sort of living room.

  “Glenn,” she said, as she sank onto a leather sofa, one foot under her. “You calling for an update on the latest exciting turn my life has taken?”

  His familiar chuckle was reassuring. “Tough lady.”

  “What, you thought I’d sit in a corner and suck my thumb?”

  Glenn laughed again. “Not for a minute. I just wanted to find out how you’re holding up, but I guess I don’t have to ask.”

  “I’m okay. Really.”

  “I assume you’ve had plenty of offers for places to stay.”

  Aware that Daniel had come from the kitchen to lean against a wall where he could hear her, she said, “Yes, I have. Is that why you called?”

  He snorted. “You don’t want to move in with a crusty old man like me. I hope you know I’d offer if you were desperate, but I’m sure you have younger, more gallant men eager to take you in.”

  Uneasiness stirred for the first time. Was he angling for her to say, Sure, you’ve met Detective Deperro, haven’t you? I’m staying with him.

  Instead of too obviously evading her question, she said, “Like Ray Hammond, you mean?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yep. I’d have sworn I’m low on his list of favorite caseworkers.”

  “I knew there was tension between you,” he admitted. “He probably means well…”

  Somehow, she wasn’t surprised that he trailed off midsentence. White lies weren’t Glenn’s style.

  “Well,” she said briskly, “I’ve had so many invitations, I’ll probably hop from household to household so I don’t wear out my welcome. I do need to start figuring out whether I’m going to rebuild or…” She was the one to break off this time. That was a big or. If she didn’t plan to go back to her job, maybe she’d be better off moving, starting afresh.

  Painfully aware of Daniel’s presence, she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere until she found out whether their relationship might become serious.

  Seizing her chance, she said, “Detective Deperro told me the burn barrel out behind the office was your idea. Did you really think you’d get by with that?”

  He laughed. “Got by with it longer than I expected.” His tone sobered. “I never imagined anything like what happened to you. I was trying to manage creatively. We were having trouble retaining caseworkers. You know what it’s like. If they could learn to vent, I thought they’d quit repressing the anger and frustration, not throw in the towel so quick.”

  “That actually makes sense,” she admitted.

  “I’m glad you understand. You know how highly I think of you.”

  All she could think to say was “thank you.”

  To her relief, Glenn didn’t press her for her current or future whereabouts, just ended the conversation by saying, “Call if you need to talk.”

  Off to the side, Daniel said unexpectedly, “It’s not just women who feel scorned when they’re rejected, you know.”

  Lindsay swiveled on the sofa. “What?”

  “Ray.”

  “You think he was, I don’t know, trying to apologize or something when he offered me a place to stay?”

  “Maybe.”

  She thought about it. “I was polite when I said no, thanks.”

  Daniel kept his distance. “Learn anything from your call?”

  Lindsay told him about Glenn’s rationale and her reaction before hesitating. “There was only one thing.”

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  “When he said ‘I’m glad you understand.’”

  “‘I thought you of all people would understand,’” Daniel quoted.

  “Yes.” She found herself shaking her head. “I won’t believe Glenn would do any of this. Why would he now that he’s retired, putting the job behind him?”

  Offer
ing no reassurance, Daniel watched her for a minute before pushing away from the wall. “I’m going to have you start carrying my backup handgun. For now, forget Glenn and Hammond both. Let’s go upstairs.”

  To bed, remained unspoken.

  “THIS WAS AN ugly one,” Daniel said tersely.

  Lindsay had pounced on the phone when she saw his number on the screen, but hearing his news about the latest murder, she quailed. “Who is it?”

  Of course she wasn’t alone at Daniel’s house. Officer Alvarez, today’s bodyguard, was currently at the back of the house walking from window to window, watching for anything out of the ordinary. For all she knew, Daniel had already called or texted him about the latest murder.

  In answer to her question, Daniel said, “Ryan Olson.”

  She felt a brief moment of hope that she might not have been the caseworker involved with this victim. “I don’t remember that name.”

  Daniel killed her tentative hope. “You’re the caseworker of record. It was… Let me check. Three years ago.”

  Ryan Olson. Dredging her memories, she still came up short.

  “I must have just started working here—” Her heart sank. “Wait. I do remember. I wasn’t involved in the investigation. I was handed nominal responsibility for the case because my successor left for a new job. Olson took a plea, so that was that.”

  “He got a slap on the wrist.”

  “Well, even though he hurt those two boys pretty bad, it was a one-time event.” The details were coming back to her.

  “His kids?”

  “His son and a friend. They were wild, and he blew his top and burned them both.”

  Daniel was quiet for a minute. “How?”

  “Um…forced their hands down onto the top of the wood stove. He started to push his boy’s face down, too, but came back to himself in horror. He tried to treat the burns he’d given them, but didn’t take them for medical care.”

  “Bet that didn’t look good.”

  “No. When his wife got home, she took them. I seem to remember that he was a veteran who came home in bad shape. Couldn’t sleep, screamed at his wife and kids. You know. But he hadn’t hurt anyone until then, which is why he got away with probation and counseling.”

  “Did the wife stay with him?”

  “I won’t swear to it, but I think so.” She’d already been wrapped up in other investigations, grateful this one wasn’t her problem. “The other family was angry he didn’t get time in prison.”

  “Don’t suppose you remember their names?”

  “Not a chance.” She frowned. “Are you thinking this could be a copycat murder?”

  “Crossed my mind.” Daniel continued, “He was killed inside the Sadler city limits, which makes me primary. It’ll be a while before I can get away. I’ll call Alvarez and make sure he can stay.”

  “I can talk to him—”

  Daniel interrupted with a brusque “I’ll do it.” When he added, “We’ll get this piece of crud,” he sounded considerably gentler.

  If only she could help instead of being a burden.

  She heard a ring tone and turned to see Officer Tom Alvarez already putting his phone to his ear. He watched her with eyes as dark as Daniel’s during the brief conversation. His end consisted of “uh-huh” and “sure.” When he set down his phone on the tiled countertop beside his perch on a stool, he said, “Another murder?”

  Lindsay nodded. “I hardly remembered the victim. Ryan Olson.”

  He shook his head.

  She told him what she remembered, and saw the same puzzlement she felt.

  “Unless something worse happened later, he seems like an unlikely victim.”

  “Very. Plus…the killer has targeted abusers from my caseload. I never even met this guy.”

  “Huh.”

  Alvarez had been really nice, making an effort to be companionable as well as perform his bodyguard duties. Now he suggested they play poker for paperclips. He talked about his children with pride that made something in Lindsay ache. Of course, he showed her pictures on his phone of his four kids, from a ten-year-old to his oldest, a girl wearing her prom dress.

  “She’s really beautiful.” Lindsay handed him back his phone. “Is that her boyfriend?”

  “Not for long.” Alvarez flashed her a grin. “She’s been accepted at Stanford. The little punk is heading for a community college.”

  Despite everything churning inside her, Lindsay laughed. “He can’t be that bad if she likes him.”

  “He’s okay, but not good enough for my little girl.”

  “I’ll bet he’s scared of you, too.”

  “Of course he is. I carry a gun.”

  Lindsay knew he was trying to distract her, and she let him think he’d succeeded. Once he made the rounds inside the house, going from window to window, her thoughts reverted immediately to Daniel’s call and the grimness and revulsion she’d heard in his voice.

  This was an ugly one. She didn’t think of herself as a coward, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know any more.

  “HE’S LOSING IT,” Chaney growled.

  Daniel would call that a major understatement. He wasn’t alone in having trouble tearing his gaze from the gruesome sight of what had been a big, strong man in his late thirties. For all that Chaney must have seen in war zones, he looked sick. Melinda was hiding her feelings better, probably because she’d developed that to an art form. As a rare woman cop in these parts, she had to appear hard even when she was grieving, horrified or scared.

  Daniel let out a long breath. “What if our killer knows the parents of the other boy Olson burned?”

  Melinda answered. “Maybe it’s just the use of fire—burning the kids—that stuck in his memory.”

  “Could be this murder gave him a chance play with fire,” Chaney muttered.

  They all watched in silence as the body bag was zipped up and lifted onto a rolling gurney. Daniel wanted to be relieved, but he wouldn’t be forgetting anytime in the near future the sight of what this victim had suffered. The number of burns… He pushed the images away.

  Overpowering this victim wouldn’t have been easy. Zeller was the suspect who leaped to mind. He had massive arms and spent his days hefting logs and controlling a chainsaw.

  What it came down to was that the man who had tortured Ryan Olson was still out there, still furious at Lindsay for failing to appreciate his multiple “gifts.” This feeling of helplessness wouldn’t have sat well with Daniel at any time, but it was intolerable given his fear for her.

  “Not a single witness so far, and I’m betting we don’t find one,” Daniel said flatly. “He plans. He has to be cold-blooded as hell even with the anger driving him.”

  “He burns,” Melinda observed, her tone strange.

  Daniel waited for Chaney to jump on her, but all he did was turn his head to look at her. His expression was odd, too, Daniel thought.

  Hell. They were all in a mood. How could they help it? The killer hadn’t just escalated; he’d become more vicious than a rabid wolf. Why?

  Daniel hadn’t realized he’d spoken his thoughts aloud until Melinda answered.

  “Because Lindsay escaped. He needed to punish her, and he failed. Maybe this—” she gestured toward where the body had lain “—was a roaring temper tantrum.”

  The ball of fear knotted even tighter in Daniel’s gut. Had this been a message to Lindsay? Or had this bastard used another man’s suffering to make himself feel better? Powerful. In control.

  It was maddening to know that a serial killer was in control. To think how much pleasure he must be taking as he watched the cops flail around incompetently.

  Distantly aware his hand was shaking when he lifted it to rub his jaw, Daniel wanted to walk away from this crime scene. Just get in his car and drive, to hell with speed limits, until he coul
d see and touch Lindsay. And then he wanted not to leave her side until the killer fixated on her was behind bars or dead.

  Preferably dead.

  It was the first time in his career as a law enforcement officer he’d thought that.

  Gaze intense on his face, Melinda said, “Are you sure he doesn’t know you took Lindsay home?”

  “How can he?”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “If he was watching the night her house burned, he saw the way she walked into your arms, how you held her. I wasn’t there, but I’ve heard people talking.”

  “But even if he hung around long enough to see me drive away with Lindsay, I could have dropped her anywhere.” Damn, he wished he didn’t share Melinda’s unease. Logic was on his side, but the uncanny way the killer had gotten each victim alone, committed his horrors without anyone hearing a sound or catching a glimpse of him coming and going…

  “What’s the alternative?” he growled, arguing with himself as much as with Melinda. “Anywhere I take her, we could be seen. As it is, I have her covered day and night.”

  They threw around ideas, but the truth was, there were only so many alternatives. Sending her off on a world cruise would have more appeal if he really believed they’d catch this monster by the time she returned home.

  As it was, the killer was playing them.

  “We need to keep canvassing,” he said abruptly.

  Chaney snorted. “We’re not going to find him that way. We all know that. He’s had hours to vanish.” He raised a hand to prevent Daniel’s retort. “We have to do it anyway, but why don’t you let us handle it?”

  Melinda nodded. “Go home, Daniel.”

  He was primary. He should work this investigation until he was ready to drop. But moved by their unusual unified stance, Daniel said hoarsely, “Thanks.”

  The urgent need driving him to get back to Lindsay was a little bit of a shocker. Wanting to believe she was safe at his place wasn’t the same as being deep-down convinced. Heading for his department-issued vehicle, it was all he could do to keep his pace to a walk.