Two Reasons to Run

by Colleen Coble

Nineteen

  Would Brian really try to hurt her dad from in jail?

  Jane entered her office after lunch and shut the blinds in the big window by her desk to block out the brutal heat of the sun. The whining AC thanked her by changing its pitch. Reid and Parker trailed in behind her, and the dog came around the desk to plop at her feet.

  She reached for her phone. “I set up a call with Elizabeth to see if she can think of anyone who would know the code to my dad’s Wi-Fi.”

  “I’ll grab us coffee while you talk.” Reid exited and shut the door behind him.

  She placed the call to the correction facility where Elizabeth was being held pending trial. After last night’s chat with Reid, she felt unsettled and distant, something she hadn’t expected. And it was all on her. He’d been staring at her with confusion and hurt in his dark eyes, but she had no answers for the way she’d taken a step back this morning.

  Even though the call had been prearranged, it seemed an eternity before Elizabeth came on the line. “Elizabeth, it’s Jane.”

  “What do you want?” Her tone was more weary than truculent.

  Jane hadn’t been sure if Elizabeth would talk or hang up. “We had an intruder the other night, and I wanted to talk to you about it. The guy threatened Will, and while you might be angry at Dad and me, I hoped you might be willing to help me for Will’s sake.”

  “For a second I thought you were saying I had something to do with it, which would be a trick since I’m stuck in here.”

  “The guy somehow got past our security on the Wi-Fi and turned off the electricity. Dad said you set up the Wi-Fi. Have you mentioned the password to anyone?”

  Elizabeth let out a harsh bark of something that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a snort. “Your dad’s Wi-Fi password is the least of my concerns.”

  “It might have been something you mentioned long ago when you installed it.”

  Elizabeth went so quiet Jane thought she might have lost the connection until she heard a door slam. “Can you think back? Maybe even the tech who installed the fiber-optic line for you.”

  “Well, yes. I was having trouble getting it set up, and the tech was still there. He did some fiddling, then asked what password I wanted. I told him, and he got it working.”

  “Do you remember his name?”

  “That was two years ago, so no.”

  “Did he mention anything that might help me identify him?”

  “He worked for the cable company. Maybe they would have records.”

  “Young, middle-aged, older? Do you remember anything about him?”

  “In his twenties. Red hair, muscular.”

  That should help. Redheads weren’t as common. “Thanks, Elizabeth. I appreciate the help.” She hesitated. “How are you doing?”

  “How do you think I’m doing? I’m back in the one place I feared. It’s awful, just awful.” Elizabeth sounded near tears.

  Jane wanted to point out all that Elizabeth had done to land back in jail, but it would fire her up more. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I miss seeing you.”

  “So much that you come for a weekly visit, right? Good-bye, Jane. Don’t contact me again.”

  The line clicked, and Jane put down her handset and sighed. That was a bust.

  Reid entered with two cups of coffee in a cardboard tray.

  He set the tray on her desk and handed her a coffee. “Was she any help?”

  “The tech putting in the line knew the password, but that was two years ago. I doubt it’s him.”

  “Could be a hacker then.”

  “That seems more likely. It was something I had to check.” She sipped her coffee and set it on her desk, then called up her email. “Whoa, there’s an email about the autopsy already. They must have gotten right on it. I thought they’d call me.”

  She opened the document and scanned it. “Cause of death was drowning, so Keith was alive when he went in the water. Toxicology isn’t back yet though to make a certain determination.”

  “Any clues to his killer?”

  She was still studying the autopsy and scanned the items found in or on the body. “His clothing appeared to be shore attire—sandals, shorts, and a T-shirt. He must have been killed after he changed to fly home.”

  “Any estimate on time of death?”

  “Likely sometime Saturday.”

  “Makes sense with what Ruby said about him supposedly coming home then and not showing up.”

  Back in her usual domain, Jane was relaxing around Reid again. As long as they didn’t discuss anything personal.

  Parker rose and stretched, then ambled over to sniff at Jane’s shoes.

  Reid hadn’t mentioned his visit with Scott Foster.

  She knew Scott well since he’d been her father’s best friend for years, but she wasn’t sure how he would get all the wrinkles out of Lauren’s crazy lawsuit. Did she dare ask? Would he think it was too personal?

  She leaned back in her chair. “You want to talk about what you found out from Scott?”

  He ran his hand over his forehead. “It wasn’t good, Jane. Nevada has a crazy law where if the so-called deceased shows up within a year of being declared dead in absentia, she can even get her property back. That means I owe her fifty thousand dollars.”

  The amount took her breath away. “Can’t Scott fix it?”

  “Apparently not. I have to come up with the money.”

  “Can you do it? I-I have a little in savings. About ten thousand.”

  His face went soft, and the heat in the room seemed to shoot up. “It means a lot that you’d offer, but I have the money. It will wipe out my savings, but I hope it will put an end to the situation.”

  She hesitated to bring up her other question since he was already dealing with so much, but it was something she had to know. “Does this mean you’re still married to her?”

  His eyes went wide. “I never asked Scott. I don’t think so. I believe having her declared dead nullified the marriage.”

  “I think you’d better check for sure,” she said softly.

  He gave a jerky nod, and she hated to see the fear in his face. “A friend is going to fly me to New Orleans to pick up the motor home. Want to go along?”

  “I can’t. I’ve got to talk to Steve again.”

  “Wish I could be there, but you don’t need me any longer.”

  She had the same regret, but she didn’t want to admit it. “See you tonight.”

  * * *

  Whoa. He grinned as he stared through the binoculars. The kid was sneaking out. He’d known it would happen sooner or later. The teen wore a game jersey and carried a baseball glove. Now that he thought about it, he’d heard the final championship game was today. Will was their star pitcher.

  The kid darted from tree to tree and crept through the thick brush and high weeds. Surely he didn’t intend to walk to town. It was five miles. The man followed at a decent distance and watched Will climb into a blue Corolla. The Price kid was picking him up.

  Surprising that the old man hadn’t seen him leave. But kids were sneaky. The man had done his share of slipping away from his parents in the dead of night. His objective had never been something as innocent as a ball game though.

  He thrashed through the brush to his truck and climbed in. Should he force the Price kid’s car off the road and take Will? That would shake up the chief. But maybe there was a better way to play this game.

  What would the town do if he opened fire and shot an unsuspecting spectator at the game? Would they cry for the chief’s head on a platter for letting her son bring danger into town? It might be fun to see, and he’d like it more than firing at a teenager.

  Twenty

  It was three o’clock when Reid paid the cabbie and got out in front of the home he’d shared with Will for most of his young life. He’d bought the two-story brick home after they’d moved to New Orleans seven years ago, and it held many happy memories. Once things settled down in Pelican Harbor, he planned to pack up
everything and take it to the new place. He’d rent this out or maybe sell it.

  Selling it would be the smart decision. He had no time to manage a rental. He dug out his keys and approached the front porch. He was still four feet away when he saw the door standing ajar a couple of inches. Splintered wood showed its raw edges around the lock’s faceplate. A shoe print marred the part of the door near the lock.

  A hard dose of sanity made him reach for his phone and dial 911 instead of going inside. He texted Jane, too, but it was hard to say when she’d see it. It was his need to be close to her that made him do it. Pathetic.

  Minutes later the scream of a siren grew louder from around the corner. He waited by the sidewalk. When the officers parked their car and joined him, he explained what’d he’d seen.

  The two had him wait a few minutes while they went inside and checked the place out. The minutes seemed to tick by slowly as he waited for them to reappear. After fifteen minutes, the door opened and they came toward him.

  “It’s a mess in there, sir,” the younger officer said. “I’m not sure what they were searching for, but there’s no one inside now. We’ll fill out a police report on it, so go ahead and see if you can determine what was taken.”

  “Can I go in now?”

  The other officer was already heading for the squad car, and the younger man nodded. “Yeah, go ahead. Call us if you see or hear anything. We’ll be here filling out the report, and we’ll take any documentation you have before we leave.”

  Reid nodded and strode up the porch steps and into the house. Stale air rushed him. He entered the living room, then stopped and stared at the damage. The contents from every drawer in the end tables had been dumped on the floor. The TV was missing as well as the home theater equipment. He trailed into his office. All his extra equipment was gone: video cameras, tripods, extra computers, everything. The desk had been emptied as well. He checked the safe in the closet and discovered the burglar hadn’t found it. He opened it to be sure and found passports and other items still inside.

  In a daze he snapped pictures of the destruction here and in the living room. The kitchen seemed untouched, and he went upstairs to the bedrooms, where he found more chaos in his bedroom. Will’s room was worse. His boy’s clothing was slashed and ripped. He sniffed and smelled the stench of urine. The source seemed to be a pile of Will’s underwear heaped on the bed.

  His gut clenched, and a wave of nausea knocked into him. What craziness was this? It was almost as if someone hated Will, but that wasn’t possible.

  He snapped pictures and left as quickly as he could. In the bathroom he pushed open the door. A slash of red at the double mirrors made his heart stutter. The words STOP NOW was on the first mirror and OR WILL DIES was on the second mirror. Stop now, just like the note warning Jane.

  The intruder was clearly targeting Will.

  Reid shot for the stairs and rushed for the front door to have the police look at the warning. He barely made sense as he babbled out what he’d found. The two officers hurried back into the house.

  He would have to go back to that bathroom and snap pictures of that obscene message. Jane would want to see everything. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself back inside and up the stairs. The two officers were notating the mirror’s warning, and Reid averted his gaze.

  He couldn’t look at that threat again, not with the letters dripping red as if they were written in blood.

  “Will’s your son?” the older officer asked.

  “Yes. He’s fifteen years old. Fifteen! Why would someone threaten him?”

  “He have any enemies at school?”

  “He doesn’t even attend here and hasn’t for two months. But to answer your question, no. Not to my knowledge. I think this ties in to a murder investigation in Alabama.” He told the officers about the previous warning and their decision to put Will under protection.

  “We’ll send what we have here to the chief of police in Pelican Harbor.”

  And that promise was supposed to make him feel better? Reid struggled to control his impotent rage over whoever wanted to harm his boy. He couldn’t get out of here and back to Pelican Harbor fast enough. Disappearing for a few days into the backwoods sounded like the right thing to do.

  He had to hear Will’s voice, make sure he was all right. The phone rang four times before Will’s cheery message started. “Call me, son. It’s important.”

  Reid paced back and forth. Should he call Jane? No, he was overreacting. Charles could assure him everything was okay.

  He called up the number and didn’t bother with niceties when the older man answered. “Is Will all right?”

  “He took a nap.” There was a pause. “Actually he’s been asleep a couple of hours. I should wake him or he won’t sleep tonight. You need to talk to him?”

  “Please.” Reid’s pulse settled.

  The boy had just been asleep. He was fine.

  Reid listened as Charles knocked on the door. “Will? Time to wake up. Your dad wants to talk to you.”

  The door squeaked open, and the phone went silent, then Charles’s grim voice was in Reid’s ear. “He’s gone, Reid. He put some pillows under the sheet. His baseball jersey and glove are missing. I’ll bet he’s gone to the game.”

  “Call Jane! I’m on my way.”

  It would be an excruciatingly long drive in the motor home, but his friend had already taken off in the plane that had brought him. He had no choice but to head out in that behemoth.

  * * *

  Steve wasn’t going to take this interrogation well.

  The receptionist had ushered Jane and Augusta in and told them to wait a few minutes until his meeting was over. Glowering clouds made his massive office seem dark and claustrophobic. Jane wandered over to the pictures on the mantel over the fireplace. If what she’d learned was true, the idyllic family portrait was a lie. His daughter was a beautiful brunette with Steve’s smile and dark eyes. His son, who appeared a couple of years younger than his sister, was blond like Steve’s deceased wife. Steve seemed much the same, though he’d lost his wife in the meantime. The kids appeared to be about eighteen and fifteen.

  But she needed to keep an open mind even though she believed Nora’s account of Steve’s behavior. Augusta had spent several hours poring over the deaths of young women to find a connection, but it was a daunting task without knowing when and where the supposed victim died.

  The door opened and Steve stepped in. Wearing khakis and an open-collared shirt, he looked more approachable today than when they’d found him in his suit. His dark hair was a little ruffled. Maybe that “meeting” was over a ball and tee.

  He walked over to greet her with an extended hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “We’ve only been here a few minutes.” Jane introduced Augusta as her new detective. “We had a few more questions, but this shouldn’t take long. Detective Richards will be handling the case, so I’ll let her take over.”

  “Have a seat.” Steve strode to his desk and settled in. “How can I help you?”

  Jane perched on the edge of a chair and Augusta did the same. Her back was erect, and her chin held a challenging tilt. She was a formidable detective.

  Augusta took out her small notebook. “Do you know why anyone would want to destroy the oil platform in revenge against you?”

  Steve blinked. “Revenge? That’s preposterous! I don’t have any enemies—well, at least not rabid ones like that. A few disgruntled employees maybe. Nothing more than that. Where’d you hear something so outrageous?”

  Augusta held his gaze. “We’re in possession of an email from Keith McDonald talking about you to some unknown person. In the email Keith appeared to believe the plot against the platform was to punish you for killing the person’s daughter. He was trying to talk the person out of it. The state cyberteam is trying to track down the recipient’s identity.”

  “What?” A tide of red washed up Steve’s neck and marred his face with blotches. “I’ve
never killed anyone.”

  “Caused a young girl to commit suicide, maybe? Maybe even someone you fired?”

  “No, there’s nothing like that.” He glanced at his Rolex. “I have an important meeting in a few minutes, so I think we’re done here.”

  Augusta rose. “I have a witness who says you make a habit of manhandling female college students when you teach. Maybe it was a girl you assaulted.”

  The ugly color on his face deepened. “Out! I’m not speaking to you again unless you’re here to charge me with something. This is the most insulting conversation I’ve ever had, and it’s over.” He stalked to the door and threw it open.

  His accusatory glare at Jane told her he blamed her for the interrogation. Yesterday she would have been chastened, but she’d seen a glimpse of panic and guilt before he refuted the charges.

  Jane waited to speak until they were in the parking lot, a light rain misting them. “I like the way you handle yourself, Augusta. Good job.”

  “Thank you. He’s guilty, you know. I’m not sure of what yet, but there was no mistaking his fear.”

  “I saw it too. We need to find out who the girl is and what happened. That might lead us to the murderer.”

  They hurried toward the vehicle as a hard rain began to pelt them. Jane slung herself under the steering wheel and reached for her phone. She had several texts, but she didn’t get a chance to read them before a call from Reid came through.

  “Hey, did you get the motor home?”

  “Have you seen Will?”

  The strain in his voice tightened her chest. “No. What’s wrong?”

  “Someone broke into my house in New Orleans. There’s another threat against Will. Check out the picture I texted you. But even worse, Will sneaked out of the house. I’m sure he’s at the baseball game. Your dad said his jersey and glove are gone too. I’m on my way back, but go find him and let me know he’s okay.”

  Her panic was a thundering drumbeat in her chest. “I’ll find him and call you.”

  “I should have known he’d do this. That game is important to him. I have to get going. Let me know when you find him.”