Two Reasons to Run

by Colleen Coble

  He shook his head. “When I’d go to town, I sometimes bought a Snickers bar on the sly.”

  They were talking about the cult without it being awkward. How did that happen? Maybe those few meetings at the cult recovery group had helped.

  She licked the last of the chocolate from her spoon. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about Liberty’s Children, about taking me to check out the place in Kentucky. My new officers are getting up to speed, and Homeland Security has told me to butt out of the McDonald case. Maybe I can take a few days off soon. I’ve accrued a ton of overtime, and the mayor likes me to take it off rather than pay me when that’s possible. Maybe we could go next weekend?”

  “We could take Will and get him out of jail for a while. Make it a family camping trip. You ever go camping?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You mean other than what we endured in cabins with no running water? No, and I can’t say the idea is appealing. A tent? A camper? Sleeping bags unfurled on the ground?”

  He laughed, a deep sound that reached into her core, and she found herself leaning toward him and wishing she had the nerve to kiss that last smear of chocolate filling from the corner of his mouth. The intimacy of this moment alone in the kitchen connected them as if they’d been holding hands.

  “How about a motor home? Would that be modern enough? Satellite TV, Wi-Fi in the campground, and a comfortable bed?”

  Somehow he’d leaned closer, and she wasn’t sure if she’d moved or he had. She shifted on her stool. “That sounds wonderful. You own a motor home?”

  “I have a friend in New Orleans who loans it to me whenever I want. I’ll pick it up, and we’ll travel in comfort.”

  He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “I wish you knew how special you are. Maybe someday you’ll let me tell you.”

  A chill swept over her when he withdrew his hand, and she wanted to tell him she was ready to listen, but before she could muster the courage, he said good night, slipped off his stool, and headed for his room.

  She touched her cheek and could have sworn it was warmer from his touch. Maybe going on a trip with him wasn’t the smartest thing, but having Will along would keep her heart safe. Wouldn’t it?

  Sixteen

  Traffic on the outskirts of town was at a complete standstill, an occurrence Reid had never seen before in Pelican Harbor.

  He glanced at the time on Jane’s dash. “What’s going on? We’ll be late.”

  Jane had a meeting with her new officers in the war room, and they were still fifteen minutes away.

  From the time they’d all taken to get around this morning, you’d have thought they were wearing chains. He’d gotten up late, Jane had been engrossed in something on her computer, and Will had taken forever in the shower before getting to work on his homework.

  Jane’s radio blared to life with a male voice. “Ongoing protest has spawned an attack right in front of the oil company headquarters and city hall. Jane, you copy?”

  She reached over and flipped on the lights and siren, then grabbed the mic. “I’m on it, Jackson.”

  “One of your new officers?” Reid asked.

  She nodded. “Jackson Brown.”

  Reid ran his window down and leaned out but saw no way through the crowd. “We’re only three blocks away. Maybe we should hoof it.”

  “I don’t think I have a choice.” She pulled the SUV into a parking lot and turned it off.

  He got out and opened the back door for Parker, who jumped out and went to stand beside Jane at the back of the vehicle. She hauled out three extra sets of handcuffs. She locked the vehicle, and Reid fell into step beside her as she jogged toward city hall. Their fast pace had them on the edge of the main body of people in a few minutes.

  “Any idea what’s going on?” he asked. “Was there a demonstration scheduled for today?”

  “Nothing came across my desk.”

  The crowd ahead of them churned with angry shouts. People began to step back from whatever confrontation was ongoing, and Reid ran into a man who wasn’t looking where he was going. The guy glared and fingered a small scar on his upper lip before he shouldered past.

  The thump of blows being landed joined the shouts and curses. It sounded like more than two people sparring.

  Victor Armstrong, jaw tense and mouth tight, stepped through the crowd to block Jane’s way. “This is on your watch, Jane, and you’re doing nothing about it.”

  Her hazel eyes flashed, and her chin came up. “I’m handling it, Victor. Get out of my way.”

  She shouldered her way through the crowd with Parker following. Reid went, too, and they broke through the circle of spectators to find at least ten people in an all-out brawl. A young woman slung the sign in her hand at a man’s head and shouted expletives, while an older man landed a punch on a young man’s jaw. The man had an oil company logo on his shirt, and the young woman’s sign read Stop Polluting Our Oceans.

  Seemingly with no fear, Jane grabbed hold of the woman’s arm and pulled it behind her back. “Police! Stand down!”

  The woman fought her, screaming, “Pig,” in her face with spittle flying.

  Jane tightened her grip until the woman collapsed onto her knees. Jane brought the woman’s other arm behind her back and clapped her in handcuffs. “Watch her,” she told Reid before she plunged into the melee again.

  Reid itched to help her, but Jane had the fight broken up in minutes. By the time she was through, four people were in cuffs, and the others stood off to the side with hangdog expressions. It seemed to be a battle between those against the oil platforms and those who supported them, probably workers and their families.

  He spotted a familiar head of bushy white hair. Charles? He nudged Jane. “Your dad is with the protestors.”

  Her brows drew together, and she stared his direction until someone called out, “Chief Hardy.”

  An older man in a suit with a sign in his hand stepped out of the crowd. He was a small guy, probably not even five six, and his thick black hair was carefully combed. He seemed vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until he spoke in a modulated deep voice that Reid recognized him as Congressman Henry Williamson, Speaker of the House. He’d been on the news lately with his bill restricting offshore drilling, and Reid had met him a few months ago when he first started working on the documentary about the oil platforms. A sign dangled from his hand, so he was with the protesters.

  He approached Jane with a genial smile. “Chief, I’m sorry things got out of hand. That’s not what the group wanted at all.” His gaze cut over the top of the crowd to her dad.

  Jane’s grim expression didn’t change. “I’m not sure who threw the first punch, but your people resisted me when I tried to break up the fight.”

  Reid noticed a red spot on her jaw. He stared at the four in handcuffs and frowned. Which one of them had punched Jane?

  A young man lifted his chin in a contemptuous gesture and stared back. Probably that guy. Reid wanted to jerk him to his feet and show him what a blow felt like, but he managed to keep his cool.

  “I’m sure they didn’t realize you were law enforcement,” Williamson said. “Those of us with a smaller stature are often dismissed. I’m sorry you were injured. Let me pay for a doctor to check you over.”

  Jane managed a smile at his self-deprecating tone. “I’m fine.”

  She stared down at the four on the ground, and Reid could almost see the wheels turning. She’d have to delay her investigation into the murder to book them. It would take hours.

  She pulled out a key and approached the closest protester, a young man in a tie-dyed T-shirt. “I’m going to release these guys into your custody, Congressman Williamson. Get them out of here and don’t let me see them making a ruckus on my streets again. I don’t mind peaceful assembly, but I won’t allow a riot.”

  “Thank you, Chief. I give you my word I’ll have a talk with them. Young hotheads. They care so much about the planet.”

  She
unlocked the first set of cuffs. “So do I, but there are peaceful ways to go about helping. You’re a prime example yourself, sir.”

  She released the remaining protesters, and Reid stepped closer in case one of them made a move toward her, but they rubbed their wrists and followed Williamson to a small bus on the corner. Others in the protest filed after them, too, but Reid didn’t relax until the bus pulled away with all of them.

  He touched the spot on Jane’s jaw. “It’s swelling. I hope it doesn’t bruise.”

  She didn’t move away, and for a moment, he thought she was going to melt against him. Until she stepped back and turned away. “I’d better go to the office and get to work. My new hires should be there, and I want to arrange a call to Elizabeth.”

  The tender moments from last night in the kitchen seemed a lifetime ago.

  * * *

  This was starting out to be a lousy day.

  The new officers were already in her office when Jane and Reid made it to the station. Jackson shot to his feet when Jane glanced toward the handsome young black man. His uniform was crisp, and his black hair was cut close to his head.

  He took a couple of steps toward her with his muscular hand outstretched. “Good morning, Chief.”

  His eagerness made Jane hide a smile. She’d been the same way fresh out of the police academy. She’d been impressed with him from the first interview. He was from Mobile, twenty-four, and unmarried. His work so far this week had been exemplary.

  She shook his hand. “You settling in, Officer Brown?” She noted the way he squared his shoulders at the title.

  “Yes, ma’am. Getting to know the ways of the townspeople.” He had a soft-spoken Southern drawl.

  She turned her attention to the woman standing behind him. “You’ve been kept busy, Detective Richards?”

  Augusta Richards was a seasoned veteran of ten years in the Mobile department. She’d been a detective for five years and had applied for a job to bring her two school-age kids to a quieter area. Her husband was opening a sporting goods store downtown. Tall and lanky with kind brown eyes, she towered over Jane by a good eight inches. Her unruffled demeanor and quiet manner would be an asset to the department.

  Augusta smiled. “I love the slower pace here, Chief.”

  “It’s not always so slow, and we have our hands full with a murder investigation. Not to mention that unexpected protest this morning.”

  Jackson brightened at the word murder, but Augusta went wide-eyed. She’d probably expected Pelican Harbor to deal mostly with minor theft and vandalism. She would learn people were the same in every community. Greed, revenge, and hatred made people do crazy things.

  She stood with Reid and Parker while the officers got coffee from the front break room.

  Reid glanced out the window. “You want me to wait in the lobby while you have your meeting?”

  “Or you can take your computer to the conference room if you need to get some work done.”

  “I do need to go over Elliot’s video from the oil rig. I might spot something important.”

  Now that she had help in the station, there was no need to use Reid as a backup or sounding board. The realization wasn’t a welcome one.

  The officers rejoined her with coffee and beignets in their hands. It felt good to have a team again. She went around to her desk and logged in to her computer. Parker plopped at her feet. She handed them the files she’d prepared. “Homeland Security is taking the lead on this now, but I want us to help all we can. You have a complete report to date. Maybe you’ll see something you want to follow up on.”

  Jackson stooped and petted the dog. “We’ve even got a canine unit. Parker, right?”

  “Yes. He’s a good officer.”

  “He stays with you?”

  “He belongs to me, and I trained him. After you’re finished reading the report, we’ll reconvene in the war room with what forensics we have and brainstorm next steps.”

  Augusta took the folder and caught Jane’s eye. “You’ve been hard at work, Chief. Any time off?”

  “Not in weeks. Probably about a month.”

  Augusta grimaced. “Sorry, Chief. We’ve got this, don’t we, Jackson?”

  “We sure do.” He was as eager as a new puppy.

  “You can work more regular hours now, maybe even have a weekend off.”

  It was a rare day when she got home before nine at night. Now she might have a normal life.

  “You guys can take the files to your offices. Jot down anything you think might help. I’ll see you in the war room at ten.”

  There was a final report from forensics from Keith’s apartment, and she sent it to her officers, then printed it out. She leaned back in her chair and began to read with a fresh eye.

  Whoa. She sat up and stared at the forensic report, which included documents recovered from Keith’s laptop on the platform. One was a copy of an email sent from Keith to an unnamed person.

  I don’t believe Steve Price had anything to do with the death of your daughter. And even if he did, an attack on the oil platform would kill innocent people. Are you willing to have that on your conscience? I’m going to report what I know to the police so this plan is dead.

  Steve Price and murder didn’t go together. Jane had known Steve for years, and she’d always had the greatest respect for him. She couldn’t discount this email though, so she would have to see if he had any idea what Keith was talking about.

  Seventeen

  Steve Price. Jane couldn’t stop mulling over his name popping up in an email.

  When she entered the war room, her team was already there. Nora Craft, her forensic tech, had arrived as well. All three sat in the front row near the whiteboard. Her new officers straightened when she entered.

  “You’ve all had a chance to get up to speed on the case?”

  Nora pushed her glasses up on her nose and nodded. The brunette had been with the department about five years and was in her late twenties. Her forensic and computer knowledge had been a great asset to Jane. She had a steady boyfriend, also a computer nerd, and she was always willing to put in extra effort even when there was no overtime pay.

  “You’ve all read Nora’s report? I sent it over half an hour ago. The pictures of Bonnie are a dead end.”

  Both Jackson and Augusta nodded at Jane, and she went to the whiteboard and picked up the marker. She wrote down what they knew. “Neither of you have met Steve Price, but I’d guess seeing him accused of murder was as much of a surprise to Nora as it was to me.” She glanced at Nora but saw her wrinkle her forehead. “No? You weren’t surprised?”

  Nora hesitated, then shook her head. “I went to the University of South Alabama. Steve lectured a few times when I was in college, and I was warned before I went not to be alone with him. Supposedly, he had wandering hands. I made the mistake of ignoring that information after the lecture I attended, and he got me up against a wall. I had to get a little rough to get away.”

  Jane bit back a gasp. “This is a surprise. I’ve never felt endangered around him.”

  “He’s hardly likely to assault a police officer,” Augusta said. “Since you know him, I should interrogate him about this.”

  “I agree.” Jane shoved away her shock and moved on to the next item. “We have two unknown fingerprints on Keith’s laptop. Nora, are you still running fingerprint ID on them?”

  “I am. It’s going to take a few days to run a complete report, but I’ve had no hits yet.”

  She glanced at Augusta and then to Jackson. “Okay, anything else you want to discuss?”

  Augusta nodded. “I started to mention it in your office earlier but decided to wait for our official meeting. To say I’m concerned about the threat to you and your son would be an understatement. If we put out a press release about the new hires in the department, maybe whoever shot at you will realize the investigation isn’t going to be stopped. They might back off.”

  “You have children too—smaller than Will. I’d b
e concerned he might turn his attention to your family.”

  Augusta chewed on her lower lip. “I can’t understand why the guy would think he could stop a full-blown investigation. It takes on a life of its own. We could also let the coconut telegraph have its way and tell a few people that Homeland Security has told us to back off. They are the lead investigators.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Jane said.

  Jackson frowned. “What if the attack on you and Will isn’t really about this investigation? What if it’s a cover for something else?”

  “What else could it be? The note read STOP OR WILL DIES.”

  “What else are you working on?”

  Jane twirled the marker between her fingers as she thought it through. “Nothing but the minor things I handed over to you last week. Shooting at me and my son would be overkill on a breaking and entering.”

  “I’ll spend some time going over the cases and see if I can find anything else the attacker might have meant,” Augusta said.

  “I appreciate that, but I think it has to be this investigation.” Jane turned back to the whiteboard. “We need to speak to Keith’s coworker on the rig, Sara Wells. We found some video of her eavesdropping on Reid Dixon’s documentary when he was asking about Keith. She’s the only female, and her address is in the file. Jackson, you and I will tackle her while Augusta talks to Steve.”

  Augusta shook her head. “It might not hurt if you were with me on that interrogation. You might detect signs in his demeanor since you know him. But I would handle the questions.”

  “Good cop, bad cop strategy.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay. You can do a little more digging here at the office while I go with Jackson to see if Sara Wells is at home. We’ll connect back here at the station when we’re done and go talk to Steve.” Jane put down the marker and motioned for Jackson to follow her.

  What did she do about Reid, who was still in the conference room? She probably wouldn’t be gone long, so she texted him and let him know she’d be gone for an hour or so. They could grab lunch afterward.