by Kylie Brant
“I’ll make the contact.” His voice was a low rumble.
Cady went on. “We’ll check with the sheriff offices within the parameters and ask whether they’ve had complaints about explosions or loud noises coming from any of the areas we’re going to search. If Loomer booby-trapped the property, something or someone has probably triggered a trip wire at some point.” She was impatient with herself for not thinking of it before.
She also needed to take a new look at the reports she’d pulled for missing females in North Carolina and the surrounding states. She hadn’t found a pattern to explain Cassie Zook’s abduction. But Angela’s information about her friend’s disappearance had Cady wondering if Forrester had started with women who wouldn’t be missed. For some reason, he’d changed that behavior with Zook. And given his paraphilia, there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t continue to escalate.
Until Cady stopped him.
Chapter 44
The burly man running a mop over the floor in Captain’s Tap in Blowing Rock turned around and gave Cady and Miguel a quick once-over as they came through the door. “We ain’t open yet.”
“We’re not looking for drinks.” Cady surveyed the heavily bearded guy as they approached. She’d noted the bulge beneath his T-shirt in back. Knew he was armed. “Deputy US Marshals Maddix and Rodriguez.” She stopped a few feet away from him, just shy of the wet area. “Are you the owner?”
“Who the hell else would clean this place?” When Cady just looked at him, the man finally replied, “Yeah. What’s the problem?”
Miguel pulled out photos of Forrester and Loomer. “We understand these two have been seen in here before.” Angela had mentioned only Forrester, but Cady didn’t quibble with the phrasing.
“So?”
Impatience surged. “Look at the pictures,” Cady ordered. “Do you recognize the men?”
The man glanced at the images and shrugged. “I’m only here nights on the weekends when it’s busy. And then I ain’t noticing faces. I’m making sure the staff are doing their jobs and keeping their hands out of the register.”
“Show these prints to your staff,” Miguel instructed him. They’d made plenty of copies of the pictures before leaving the office after the task-force meeting. “If anyone sees either of these men, call the local police department immediately.”
The man took the photos unenthusiastically. Cady had a feeling the pictures would be in the garbage before they hit the sidewalk out front. They’d already spoken to the Boone and Blowing Rock police chiefs and the Watauga and Caldwell sheriff offices. There’d be law enforcement patrols of the bars in their areas until both Forrester and Loomer were apprehended. She figured she’d let that be an unpleasant surprise for the owner.
The thought lightened her mood. “Enjoy your day.”
Miguel remained silent until they were outside. “Why did I get the idea you were channeling Dirty Harry back there?”
“Given his attitude, thinking of all the walk-throughs the PD is going to be doing over the next day or two is really making my day.”
He grunted. “Let’s hope they’re a little more cooperative in the next establishment.” They strolled down a block and across the street to the next place. The blonde behind the bar at Maxi’s took one look at them and disappeared into the back room. She returned with a tall, thin man with long sideburns and dark slicked-back hair wearing aviator sunglasses.
“Now we know what happened to Elvis,” Miguel murmured as the man waved them to the back of the bar.
Cady stifled a smile as they joined the man. He seated himself in a corner booth. “Michael Cordon,” he said. “Sit down. I don’t conduct my business in front of the customers.”
They remained standing. “We’re fine.” Cady performed introductions and ran through the information they’d given at the last place. On cue, Miguel produced the photos of Forrester and Loomer. Cordon glanced at them and handed them back. “Don’t know them.”
“If one of these men comes in, have your staff call the police immediately,” Miguel said. “There will be uniforms doing regular checks.”
“Now, why you want to do that?” Cordon’s tone was almost a whine. “We’re a quiet place. We don’t need trouble, and having a badge show up is the quickest way to lose customers.”
Unsympathetically, Cady said, “Call over your bartender.”
Heaving a sigh, Cordon bellowed, “Tess!”
It was a few minutes before the woman joined them, looking from Cady to Miguel suspiciously. “What’s this about?”
Miguel handed her a set of pictures. “Do you remember either of these men coming in here?”
Tess looked at them and then glanced at her boss. “Uh . . . no. Can’t say I recall seeing them.”
“That’s interesting.” Cady caught her eye. Held it. “Because we have a witness who claims she’s seen this man”—she tapped the image of Forrester—“here on more than one occasion. What hours do you usually work?” She took a couple of steps, positioning her body between the woman and her boss.
“Different shifts.”
The woman was a master prevaricator. “How many hours a week? How many nights are you here?”
“Most of them,” she finally admitted.
“If you see one of these individuals, contact the police. This man,” she said, plucking Forrester’s picture to hold up, “is wanted for kidnapping and for questioning in multiple homicides.” The woman’s eyes widened. “Not someone you want hanging around this place, is it?”
“No need to browbeat the help.” Cordon’s smile didn’t resemble the King at all. “That’s my job.”
“We’ll leave you to it. Just remember, the sooner we catch up to the men in the photos, the sooner the police will decrease their presence in your place.”
Cady’s cell sounded as they walked toward the entrance. Checking it, she told Miguel, “The K-9 units are on their way. The rest of the task force will join us in an hour. We still have one more stop here, and then we need to speak to law enforcement in Avery and Wilkes Counties.”
“We’ll do that. They can show the pictures around at the bars in their areas. Gives us time to get something to eat.”
Silently, she agreed. And not just because she knew how important it was to keep Rodriguez fed. They’d left Asheville more than four hours ago. She was ready to get the house-to-house search started. A building urgency was rapping at the base of her skull. And it wouldn’t be suppressed until Bruce Forrester and Eric Loomer were both behind bars.
Chapter 45
“We must be the lamest kids in the building,” Dylan said, only half-jokingly. The library was deserted after school. Not surprising since it was a Friday. Even the librarian had rushed out at 3:30 after checking on them in case they needed anything.
Grace looked stricken. “Did you have something to do this afternoon? I didn’t even ask. I didn’t mean to guilt you into this.”
It took more courage than it should have to reach over for her hand and squeeze it. He felt the thrill in his gut. “If I didn’t want to be here with you, I wouldn’t be. Got it?”
Her expression cleared. And God, when she looked at him like that, all doe-eyed and trusting, there wasn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for her. Maybe that should have scared him. But mostly it made him feel ten feet tall.
“Got it.”
She was so self-confident most of the time that when she got sweet and shy, something inside him sprang to the rescue, like a damn knight or something. It made him brave enough to lean in, pretend to be looking at her computer screen.
But instead of facing the screen, she turned toward him and pressed her lips against his. Dylan froze. Her eyes were shut, so he closed his, too, and the pressure of her mouth on his made him a little crazy. He let go of her hand and slipped his arm around her to draw her nearer, because Jesus God, he didn’t want this to end. Like, ever.
The kiss stretched out. Moments stringing together like stepping-stones across a s
till pond. And then Grace pulled away a little and said huskily, “I guess you know I like you, Dylan Castle.”
His heart was thudding in his chest like a wild thing trying to escape. He smiled and said, “Guess you know I like you back.”
Grace and her mom had left the parking lot before Teeter pulled up in his crap car. Which was fine with Dylan. He felt light as air when he jogged out to meet him. As days went, this one ranked up there with the best in his life.
“Bet you’re glad to be free of that place for the weekend.”
Dylan had barely gotten his seat belt fastened before T took off. “Yeah. I guess.”
“You guess?” The man eyed him.
T really oughta be paying attention to where he was going. “Watch out for that planter.” They had concrete tubs scattered in the lot to help direct traffic flow. Kids hit them all the time. “I mean, sure. But it’s not like there’s much to look forward to sitting at home, either.”
“I get it.” The man’s head bobbed up and down. “Kid your age oughta be playing sports. Hanging with friends and chasing tail. Your mom knows it too. That’s why she’s had me looking out for you.”
“You mean why she asked you to come and stay?”
“That too.”
Dylan wasn’t sure what the hell the man was talking about, but all of a sudden, the thought of spending the weekend locked up in that damn house with no one but T for company deflated his earlier mood. He still had the phone, though. Grace had given him the charger for the cell after school. He turned his face toward the window. It was second nature for him to obsessively watch the vehicles on the road. To scan the traffic for an old green pickup.
But he’d have to wait until T was asleep to text Grace. Maybe he could do it from the bathroom, but his uncle would notice if he stayed in there too long. If he’d been feeling a mile high when he’d left school, he was crashing down to earth now. Having Teeter there was much worse than being alone all the time. What little freedom Dylan had once had was melting away. It was time to start thinking about how he was going to convince his mom to get rid of him.
He searched for a reason Tina would accept. She’d seemed convinced Dylan needed more protection while Forrester was on the loose. Just thinking of the criminal finding them again had dread snaking down Dylan’s back. But maybe the marshal—Maddix—was close to capturing the guy. It’d been a week since they’d talked. He grasped on to the thought like a life preserver. If this thing were over soon, Teeter could go home. His mom would back off. Dylan could move freely around town, like a normal kid.
He could walk down the street with Grace without worrying that any minute a bullet might end him. Might even miss him and hit her.
His throat went tight as a mental vision of the scene played across his mind. His earlier mood was completely shattered. That was a dream. This was reality. His reality.
T took a sharp turn into their drive, but it didn’t jolt Dylan from his morose thoughts. Fucking SBI agents didn’t tell them jack even when they checked in. Maybe Maddix was different. He hoped so. Because now that he had the thought, he couldn’t shake it loose. He was going to call the marshal. And hope like hell she would give him some positive news.
Chapter 46
Bruce came out of the bedroom, duffel bag over his shoulder, and closed the door behind him. Turning, he saw Eric in the hallway, beer in his hand. The drinking had been steadily increasing, he noted. The case of beer he’d bought a couple of days ago was nearly gone. It was a problem, and Bruce was going to have to deal with it soon. Drunks were sloppy. Made poor decisions. And he couldn’t afford any mistakes.
“Where the hell you going now?”
“Out. Might be gone a day or two. No more.”
Eric frowned. “Another delivery?”
“No.”
He drained the beer and lowered the bottle. Belched. “You taking the whore in your bedroom with you?”
Bruce’s fingers curled. “Don’t worry about her.” She was bound, but she could hop to the bucket in the corner of the room. “I’ll feed her again when I get back. You get to FedEx today?”
The other man turned his back to walk to the kitchen. After another beer, no doubt. “You don’t see any packages sitting around, do you?”
Tamping down his surging irritation, he followed him. Eric was asking for an ass kicking, but Bruce needed him calm. Responsible. That was the problem with having to rely on someone else. They often turned out to be an asshole.
The binoculars today had been worthless. Bruce still hadn’t been able to pick the kid out of the mob leaving the school. He’d driven back to one of the Food Mart parking lots, knowing he needed a new plan. And when one finally formed, it was almost perfect in its simplicity.
Bruce knew the type of bars Tina Bandy used to hang out in. Had seen her in them more than once in Hope Mills. He could make the rounds, ask about her. Places like those, no one would give a shit.
He’d drive back to Asheville tonight and start. He could always sleep in his car and try scoping out another store tomorrow, then repeat the bar scene tomorrow night. He’d have the woman before the weekend was over.
And with Bandy, he’d have the kid. Heat suffused him. His five-year search would finally be over.
“We’ve got more orders that need to be packaged and ready to mail out Monday. You can work on that.” He had Eric vary the locations of the FedEx offices and post offices he used to avoid drawing attention. Their online business was picking up, and with the increased volume came more exposure.
Eric grabbed what had to be one of the last bottles from the refrigerator and turned back to Bruce. Stared at him. “What’s that bandage on your wrist? Your new bitch do that when you grabbed her, or did a whore leave her mark on you last week?” He tittered, then twisted off the top of the beer to take a swig from it.
Bruce stared hard at him, gratified when the other man looked away. “Just . . . ain’t seen it before,” Eric mumbled.
Bruce pushed down the long sleeves of his T-shirt. “Focus. I have to take care of some loose ends. I’ll be back tomorrow, next day at the latest. Stay here. No going to town, no whores. We’ve got a lot of product left, and I don’t want it unguarded.”
Ignoring the mutinous look on the other man’s face, he walked across the kitchen to the entrance of the garage, his thoughts drifting to the Fed Fielding had called him about. Maddix. One of the loose ends he needed to deal with.
He opened the driver’s door and threw his duffel bag over the seat before sliding behind the wheel. After dealing with Bandy and her kid, he looked forward to discovering firsthand if there was any grit behind Maddix’s star. He’d never met a cop yet who wasn’t a pussy hiding behind the badge. He could discover what she’d learned about him before they settled down to business.
And when he was finished with her, he’d have the pleasure of watching the life ebb out of her eyes. Up close and personal.
Chapter 47
Once the task force had reassembled along with the K-9 units and their handlers, Cady split them into three groups. The one without a canine took the unincorporated areas. Cady led a team going door-to-door in the homes scattered in the Blue Ridge Mountains rising above Boone like a sleeping giant. They were armed with lists of property owners and their addresses, but that didn’t help with the numerous rental properties popular in tourist areas like this one.
They were four to a squad. It was already nearing dusk, which limited their time this evening. They’d quickly settled on the most efficient way to proceed. The handler and dog would clear the property before the other three members approached the house.
Many of the homeowners weren’t home. Maybe some were still at work, but a good number of the nicer residences were likely summer places and would be empty. Sometimes a house had a view of the next one, but others were separated by miles. As Cady walked back to the Jeep from another unanswered door, she turned to look up at the ridgeline of mountains. If the men were using trip wires to p
rotect their property, they’d want a place that was isolated.
Cady had texted Ryder on the way here to let him know that she’d be late again. A sliver of guilt pricked her. Others were spending more time tending to Hero than she was. But there were never any recriminations from Ryder about the times work kept her away. He’d responded with questions about their hunt and the familiar admonition to “stay safe.” A benefit, she supposed, of being involved with a cop. He understood when the job took precedence.
Involved. She waited for the familiar apprehension to rise at the thought. But although the emotion was there, it was more muted than usual. Like something inside her was coming to terms with the relationship faster than her head was.
“K-9’s heading back,” Miguel noted. Cady nodded, pulled a hat and gloves from her coat pocket, and donned them before opening the door of the Jeep. Rounding the hood, she met Miguel and Rebedeau and headed for the drive. The K-9 officer gave them a thumbs-up and moved toward the back of the vehicle to let the dog inside it. Lights winked on in the A-frame they were heading for. Someone was home.
Cady was closest to the door, so she did the talking when an older woman opened it in response to her knock. “Deputy US Marshals Maddix and Rodriguez and SBI agent Rebedeau, ma’am. We’re wondering if you’ve seen either of these two men.” She took the pictures from her pocket of Forrester and Loomer and handed them to the woman.
“Let me get my glasses,” the lady said querulously. “Can’t see a damn thing up close without them.” She turned and moved slowly out of sight.
“Why doesn’t she keep them on a chain around her neck like everyone else?” Miguel muttered. Cady elbowed him as the woman shuffled back into view. She perched the reading glasses on her nose and opened the door to take the pictures. Studied them intently.
