by Sam Cheever
“Good. Then I’ll only have to say this once. Officially, I’m supposed to tell you two to butt out of this investigation.”
I glanced at Hal, and he arched a midnight brow. “And unofficially?” he asked Arno.
“Unofficially, I wanted to warn you that we found that white car you spotted at the Prince scene. Registration said it belongs to Karinne Magness. It was off the side of the road hidden in some trees out your way.”
“On Goat’s Hollow?” I asked, alarmed.
“No, on Possum Park Road.”
“I know you two talked to Magness in Nineveh. But I sent Schmidt to pick her up, and she wasn’t at her parent’s home. Any idea where she might have gone?”
“No,” Hal said, giving me a questioning look.
I shook my head. Hal probably wondered if he might have missed something when he was giving Karinne her privacy. He hadn’t. Not anything that would help Arno find her, anyway.
“There’s something else,” Arno said.
I refocused my full attention on the cop.
“We found a can of black spray paint in the car. It matches what was sprayed on the cameras at Pam Wickham’s murder scene.”
Well, dang it and the horse it rode in on.
Hal sighed. “Do you want us to go talk to her parents again? She might have told them where she was going.”
“Unlikely,” Arno said. “And I don’t think that’s a good idea. Mulhern heard you were talking to them and had piglets. Maybe you could concentrate on finding the kid you saw at the scene?”
I winced. Even though I’d been anxious to meet my brother, finding him to turn over to the police was way down on the list of things I wanted to do. As in falling off the bottom.
“What about the mayor?” I asked. “Is anybody watching him?”
“I’ve got that handled. And that’s the last place you two want to be.”
He wasn’t wrong. Still…
Hal left an hour later, after helping me bathe the pibl with the hose. He said he had a lot of computer work to do in an attempt to locate my brother. I sat on the front porch swing and watched as he and Ethel drove away, smiling at the big twitchy ears I could see above the dashboard as he backed around.
Ethel’s ears…not Hal’s.
Caphy did happy zoomies around the yard for a few minutes. She rolled enthusiastically in the grass, trying to defile her freshly washed fur and generally acting like her normal, happy self.
I shoved against the porch floor with my toes, keeping the swing in a gentle back and forth motion that soothed my jangled nerves. After a few moments, I settled into the pleasure of the warm evening, with the comforting sounds of the bullfrog in the pond and the crickets in the woods. High above me, a veritable explosion of stars turned the night sky into a stunning display of lights.
I laid my head back on the swing and sighed, feeling my nerves settle for the first time all day. I knew I should go inside and finish cleaning up the kitchen, but I was suddenly too tired to move.
At some point, my eyes drifted closed. I dozed, dreaming of warm summer nights chasing fireflies with a jar and counting stars from a blanket spread over the grass. Memories as bright as yesterday brought my childhood back to me in three-dimensional space and color. My bare feet, grass-stained from hours playing in the yard without shoes, danced across the cool grass as my jar lit with magical golden light. In the dream, my cheeks were hot from a day in the sun and my legs itched from an array of mosquito bites. My eyes were bright with the delight of the chase, my lips curved in a perpetual smile.
Happy. I’d been loved and happy. An idyllic childhood.
I was jolted awake by an insistent yowl and a fur-padded blow to my shin. I lifted my head and looked at LaLee. She was heading for the railing, her tail snapping behind her.
“Hello to you too, Diva.”
The cat gave me a disgusted look and leaped effortlessly to the wide railing, settling herself into position to watch her crazy sister chase lightning bugs and roll in the grass.
I smiled. “She’s a little weird, but she’s all ours.”
LaLee meowed her agreement.
We sat in comfortable silence for a while. The warmth of my dream clung to me, leaving behind a residual smile I had no will to banish from my face. I was nearly drowsing off again when Caphy started to bark. Taking off toward the pond.
I went on full alert, worried about coyotes. “Caphy! Come back here, girl.”
The dog ignored me, of course, and that’s when I saw why she’d taken off. I jumped from the swing and started running. “No! No, Caphy! Bad girl.”
Waddling leisurely across the grass toward the pond, the mama duck started moving faster when she spotted the pitty running her way. Her downy brown ducklings took her cue and scurried after her.
“Caphy!” I yelled again, cutting the distance between us. But not fast enough.
Caphy was going to overtake the little family before I could get to her.
“No, no, no, no!” Panic flared in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I dug in, running faster, knowing I wouldn’t make it in time.
Then the strangest thing happened. Caphy was within five feet of the ducklings when she screeched to a halt and dropped to her haunches, cocking her head as they toddled toward the pond. Her tail wagged once, and she dropped to her belly, putting her head on her paws to watch them go.
Relief made it possible for me to draw a breath again. Well, that, and the fact that I’d stopped running. Judging by the hoarse sawing of breath through my airways, I needed to get into shape. Caphy and I needed to get back to our daily runs.
“Good girl,” I said, relieved when the last baby plunked into the glossy black water and glided away. “Come on, Caphy,” I called. When she didn’t come, I added, “Time for treats.”
She leaped to her feet and flew back toward the house, ignoring me completely in her fervor for a snack.
Laughing at her antics, I turned and started back.
The tree was one of the largest in my yard, probably several hundred years old, with large roots that sank into the earth and sought the water-drenched soil around the pond. It had massive branches that hung overhead and blocked out the starlight, creating a thicker curtain of shadows that provided good cover for someone trying to sneak up on an unsuspecting passerby.
It never occurred to me I needed to worry about those shadows. Until they moved. A large body rammed into my back, thick arms binding me to an unyielding frame at the throat and waist.
I was so stunned I forgot to fight back for the space of a single heartbeat, and then my legs started to flail, my heels smacking into thick calves and my head crashing back against an iron chest.
The arm around my throat shifted upward and clamped me harder, blocking my screams as hot breath, laced with the smell of stale coffee, scoured my face. The angry words were delivered in a harsh, indecipherable whisper that turned my blood to ice. “Stop fighting me and listen very carefully. If you continue to stick your nose into the murders in Deer Hollow, everyone and everything you love will die. I’ll start with that private investigator and end with that new brother you’re chasing. Do you understand?”
Shock made me go very still. How could this person know Joshua was my brother?
“Do. You. Understand?” The arms around me tightened, compressing my ribs and threatening to cut off my ability to breathe.
I jerked my head in the affirmative, barely able to move beneath the iron control of those arms.
Sour breath washed over my skin with unwelcome heat. “Don’t doubt that I can do what I said.” I felt his attention shift toward the house. “It would be a shame to lose that gorgeous dog. I like dogs. I’d hate to have to hurt that one.”
Suddenly the pressure around my body was gone, and my legs gave out, plunging me to my knees in the thick, cool grass. I gasped for breath, my entire body vibrating with residual fear. By the time I thought to look around for my attacker, the night was empty and
still.
I was alone in the no longer comforting shadows of my once-favorite tree.
Pushing to my feet, I stumbled toward the house. I started at a trembling walk and ended up running, my breathing labored and rough.
LaLee leaped down from the railing and followed me into the house. Her expressive blue gaze locked on me as I quickly shut and locked the door. Unable to think beyond just pulling air into my lungs and releasing it, I leaned against the door as numbing adrenaline eased from my system. Its abandonment left me shaking violently and wobbly on my feet.
I thought about calling Hal, even grabbed my phone, but I ultimately decided against it. He didn’t need to come hold my hand. He had work to do to find the killer.
Sudden realization had me gasping for air. My legs softened beneath me, and my back hit the door as I slid to my butt on the cool tile floor.
The killer…
I’d bet everything I owned that I’d just met the killer. And he’d threatened to destroy everyone I loved.
My stomach roiled on the thought and I retched, barely making it to my feet and down the hall before my stomach emptied itself on the heels of that thought.
Somehow, I had another killer dogging me, threatening everybody in my life.
18
Even with Caphy draped over the bed next to me, her squishy head heavy on my chest, I barely slept. Sometime around dawn, my body finally succumbed to exhaustion, and I went under, only to be awakened a mere three hours later by the sound of my phone ringing.
Groaning, I rolled over and ignored it, thinking that whoever it was could call me back at a decent hour.
But it kept ringing.
And ringing.
And ringing.
And… “Jeezopete!” I yelled, jerking upright and flinging a pillow at the jangling cell phone on my nightstand. The pillow missed, of course, and sailed across the room, drawing a playful pibl to it like a pig to truffles. She dove off the bed, tackling the pillow and shaking it until it was dead.
Then she took off out of my room, the sound of whipping cotton accompanying her down the stairs to the first floor.
“Great,” I mumbled crankily. “Now my pillow’s going to be beaten into submission and probably eaten.” I only hoped she wouldn’t take it outside and bury it in the back yard, alongside a veritable graveyard of soup bones and chewies.
The face of the cell told me it was Arno on the phone. My finger stabbed the button and hit the speaker button. “Why are you calling me at the buttcrack of dawn?”
“Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
“Grumble, grumble, swear.”
Arno chuckled. “I have good news. We caught the guy who was driving the white car. I thought you might want to watch the interview.”
I bolted upright, all semblance of weariness fleeing me. “You caught him?”
“Am I speaking Armenian?”
I shoved covers off my legs and launched myself from bed. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Then I realized he hadn’t mentioned my PI. “What about Hal?”
Arno sighed, the sound filled with the emotions I knew he had to keep buried at the station. “I can’t risk having him here. Just in case Mulhern comes in. If the sheriff finds out you two are still working the case, I’ll never talk him into reinstating your boyfriend as civilian support.”
“He isn’t going to be any happier finding me there,” I said.
“You and I are planning Lis’s surprise birthday party. Shh, don’t tell anybody.”
“That might work,” I agreed.
“It has to.”
“Or you might lose your job,” I said, knowing Arno wouldn’t admit to his fears in that area but also knowing it was a real possibility.
“Don’t tease me, Joey. It’s not nice.”
My lips twitched into a grin. “You’re saying you wouldn’t mind losing your job?”
“Right at this moment? I’m thinking a beach anywhere might be nice.”
I couldn’t disagree. “Can I tell Hal that I’m coming?”
“Already handled. See you in twenty-five minutes.”
What could I say? My friend sometimes knew me better than I knew myself.
Arno was perched on the corner of Deputy Brian Miller’s desk when I was shown into the bullpen. He stood up when I started toward them. His lips were moving, but he wasn’t speaking loud enough for me to hear him across the room. I figured he was talking to Miller, but the young cop’s attention was on whatever he was doing on the computer.
“Yeah, your girlfriend just came in,” Arno said as I reached him. He nodded toward the cell phone on the desk and tapped his lips with his finger.
“Morning, honey,” Hal said.
“Hey, handsome.” I couldn’t help it. Despite everything, I smiled.
“I’m going to assume you were talking to me and not Willager,” Hal said, his deep voice playfully stern.
“You know what they say about assuming, Amity,” Arno teased.
To me, he said, “I’ll be taking my phone into the interview with me. You can watch from the room next door.”
I followed Arno to the hall where the interview rooms were located and went through the door he indicated. As I entered the room, my gaze was drawn to the man pacing the room, his gaze occasionally skimming in my direction as if he knew I was watching.
Arno quietly closed the door behind him. “Mr. Magness, please take a seat at the table.”
“I’d rather not,” the man who looked so much like my dad responded, his manner hostile and belligerent. The squared shoulders and uplifted chin almost made me smile. I had many memories of Brent Fulle doing exactly the same thing when somebody he considered his lesser tried to “instruct” him.
I had some authority issues of my own. A realization that surprised me a bit. I’d always considered myself to be more like my mom. But I’d apparently taken one trait from my dad as well.
“If you’d rather be cuffed to your chair, I can arrange that,” Arno said.
Joshua threw another glance toward the mirror on the wall. Nobody was ever fooled into believing it was a mirror. I’d never understood why they even attempted the ruse.
“Who’s watching this?” Joshua asked, blue-gray eyes narrowing as he approached the glass.
I flinched back by instinct and then forced myself to move closer, enjoying the first unobstructed view of my brother I’d ever had.
Close up, I could see the freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. The unruly mop of red-brown hair hung nearly into his eyes, and a matching fringe of lashes would have made any woman jealous.
I’d thought him skinny the first time I’d seen him but realized his arms were taut with muscle. Not bulky and thick, but lean and probably just as strong. His lean strength would make him faster, more agile. Just as he’d been described.
Thoughts of my mother’s obvious pain when discussing Josh made my chest hurt. What would she think if she saw him standing in an interview room at the sheriff’s station?
Joshua’s jaw was square, his lips well-shaped and full, and his nose was strong, just like our dad’s had been. He was a very good-looking guy. But there was a hardness in his gaze that made me sad. It spoke of years of mistrust and too-serious pursuits.
While I’d lived my life, surrounded by the security and comfort of a home and friends, he’d spent a lot of his adult life trying to right a single wrong.
Because he loved his sister.
I fought the jolt of quick jealousy that thought engendered.
“Sit down, Mr. Magness.” Arno’s voice clearly represented his impatience.
With a final glance at the mirror, Joshua turned and dropped into the nearest chair. He had his back to me, which was unfortunate. I’d hoped to watch his expressions as he answered Arno’s questions.
Arno sat down across from him, placing his phone on the table. “Now, Mr. Magness, would you like to tell me what you were doing on Goat’s Hollow Road last night?”
My heart stopped beating. All the air in my lungs escaped, and stars burst before my eyes. Had he been there? Near my house? When I’d…
The sound emerging from my throat was like the cry of a terrified animal. I hugged myself as ice prickled along my spine. What was happening? Had my brother been the one to threaten me? And why hadn’t Arno told me he’d had Joshua in custody last night? Why would my brother want to threaten me?
The stars dancing in front of me turned to dark splotches on the air, and my chest hurt. Realizing I hadn’t taken a real breath for a full minute, I opened my mouth and filled my lungs. The spots fell away, but the panic clawing at my throat was still there.
I wasn’t going to get the answers to all my questions until Arno completed his interview…if then…so I forced myself to listen.
It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. All I wanted was to crash that interview and demand answers to my questions. Instead, I had to content myself with hearing responses to Arno’s inquiries.
“We found your car, Mr. Magness. It looked like you’d tried to hide it. Why would you try to hide your car?” Though Arno’s delivery was calm and carefully emotionless, there was no mistaking the steel behind the words. If he’d been speaking with a timid man, he might have had better success getting Josh to open up.
“I have no idea why you think I was hiding it. The car just died. I couldn’t get it to start again, so I pushed it off the road. I was just trying to find a phone to call for help when your people dragged me in here.”
Arno stared at him for a beat and then inclined his head. “We’ll let that ride for now. Please tell me why you were recognized at the scene of an attack on Anthony Prince?”
Joshua leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t know who that is.”
“Really?” Arno asked pleasantly. “He’s a friend of your sister’s. I’d think you would have met him at some point.”
Josh shrugged. “I don’t know all of her friends.”
Arno tugged a piece of paper from the folder he’d carried into the room. “Have you seen this gun before?”
