“You’re deep in thought,” Zane said. His desk faced Caden’s.
“Thinking about how everything connects.”
“How does it?”
“It doesn’t.” He rubbed his eyes. “But it has to. Doesn’t it?”
Benny and his unit had been clearing a building and found a hostile. Bullets had been exchanged, and in the end, Brad Wicks and Stuart North had been wounded. Stuart had died en route to the hospital. Brad made it to the operating room, where he’d succumbed to his wounds shortly thereafter.
The investigation had determined that the bullets that had killed Brad and Stuart had come from Benny’s weapon. Had the man panicked in the chaos? Shot at anything that moved? It was possible, but usually friendly fire incidents were a result of miscommunication or an unexpected move by someone else on the team. Not panic. Unfortunately, since the man was dead, they’d probably never know for sure.
His phone rang and he snagged it. “Caden here.”
“This is Sheriff Osborne in Kent County. I had a message to call you if we got anything from forensics with the murder of Benny Silver.”
“You found something?”
“Yeah. A couple of days ago. Sorry it’s taken me so long to call, but we’ve been going full steam ahead with this investigation. I’m now ready to catch you up. We got a hit on a hair found at the scene. The lab here did a rapid DNA test, and it came back a match to a guy by the name of Donald Little.”
Caden sucked in a fast breath. “Are you kidding me?”
Zane’s head popped up and his eyes narrowed.
“So, you know the name?” the sheriff asked.
“Oh, yes, sir, I sure do. He’s wanted here in connection to a kidnapping.”
“Well, well, how about that? Little has quite the record. Assault and numerous other charges.”
“I’m not surprised. Sheriff, Benny was killed about six weeks ago, right?”
“Something along those lines, yes. Why?”
Just a couple of weeks before someone hired Little to kidnap Heather. “I’m simply trying to put together a timeline for things happening on this end with Little. Thank you for calling. I’ll let you know if we manage to find the man.”
“That would be appreciated.”
Caden hung up and called Travis. He got his voice mail. “Travis, call me when you get this. Donnie Little’s DNA was found at the scene of Benny Silver’s murder. I’m thinking that’s not a coincidence. We need to know what links Heather to Benny Silver and if something happened in Kabul between those two.” He hung up and turned back to his keyboard. There had to be something else and he was determined to find it. His next call would be to Heather to ask that very question.
Just as the screensaver morphed into his work screen, his phone rang again. “Caden here.”
“It’s Heather.”
At the sound of her voice, he straightened. “I was just getting ready to call you. Everything all right?”
“No. I don’t think so. I came across something on Patty Wicks’s social media. She’s Gina’s former mother-in-law.”
“Let me get the page pulled up and I’ll take a look.” He clicked his way to the woman’s page and noted that she didn’t have very good privacy settings. Which worked for what he needed. He scrolled to her latest post and read. Then whistled. “Wow. That’s intense.”
“Exactly. She tagged me in the post, which, of course, drew my attention to it. This time she mentioned not only me but Gina in her rant. She’s escalating, Caden.”
“I can see why you’re concerned.”
“Gina’s on her way to Travis’s home to stay here just in case Patty decides to take a leap off the deep end and go after her.” She paused. “Caden, do you think she could be the one behind everything that’s happened to me? It seems far-fetched, but . . . logical, too, in a way. Maybe.”
“I don’t know, but it bears investigating. I’ll start getting warrants for what I need, like her financials and more.” He’d also contact a few people who knew her and get them to fill out a questionnaire. One could learn a lot about a person’s state of mind by listening to what their friends had to say. “You stay put until you hear back from me, okay?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“And keep your phone on you.”
“I have a new number. Travis gave me a satellite phone just in case I’m in a spot with no signal.”
Caden wrote the number down as she quoted it. He’d enter it into his phone as soon as he disconnected with her. “I’m going to get a warrant to search her house and get her financial and phone records ASAP. We’ll see if she’s got a GPS on her vehicle too. Hang in there, Heather. This is a good, solid lead.”
“I’m so glad.”
“Although I’ve got to say, regardless of what his mother thinks, Brad looks really happy with Gina. Especially the one of them on their honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon? I didn’t see that one.”
He checked the post stats. “Looks like she just added it a couple of minutes ago. We’ll have Patty Wicks in custody shortly.”
“Thanks, Caden, I appreciate this. Do you think you could make sure Gina gets here safely?”
“I’ll see to it.”
“Oh, and any word on Donnie Little?”
“Yes, that’s what I was going to call you about. The sheriff investigating Benny Silver’s murder called. He said they’d found a hair at the scene. Thanks to one of those rapid DNA tests and Donnie being in the system, they got a hit. It’s his, Heather.”
“Donnie Little’s?”
“That was my reaction too. So, I need to know if you can link anything that happened in Kabul to you and Donnie Little.”
She went silent. “No.” She sighed. “I can’t think of anything. I mean other than Benny Silver was the one who killed Brad, and Brad’s mother is very bitter about that. Is there a link between her and Donnie? Could she have sent him to kill Benny?”
“I thought about that and am going to start searching for a connection between the two of them.”
“I’ll keep thinking too.”
“If anything comes to mind, call me. Also, late yesterday, we had a hit on an ATM in Raleigh, North Carolina, but by the time officers arrived, he was in the wind again. Don’t worry, we’ll get him. Just keep your head down.”
“I am. I know I’m not your only case, but I’m grateful for all the attention I’m getting.”
“Right now, my focus is on you. I’ll be in touch.”
“Bye.”
He hung up and met Zane’s inquisitive stare. “I think we’re getting ready to find us a kidnapper and a possible accessory to murder.” He told him about the conversation with Heather and showed him Patty Wicks’s social media page.
“I’d say that’s pretty incriminating.”
“Ready to take a ride and track this woman down?”
“I am. Maybe she can tell us where Donnie Little is, because I’ve still got squat on his location.”
“He’ll turn up. And when he does, we’ll grab him.” Before he hurt anyone else.
While Heather waited for Gina to arrive, she researched Donald Little. The fact that his DNA had been found in Benny Silver’s house was mind blowing. There had to be a connection—and truthfully, something was niggling at the back of her mind, but for the life of her, she couldn’t pull it out. Maybe it was just the idea that Patty Wicks could have hired him to kill Benny. But what did that have to do with her? She blamed Benny for her son’s death, for sure. But did she also blame Heather for being unable to save him? It made sense in a weird kind of way. But why the whole kidnapping thing?
The more she searched, the more her head pounded. Ignoring the tightening over her right eye, she continued to click from one page to the next. “More like one dead end to another,” she muttered.
Donnie seemed to have no connections whatsoever with Gina’s mother-in-law, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. Just that she couldn’t find it with her limited skills. Then again, if
the man was a hired killer, it wasn’t likely he was going to advertise that on social media, right? Maybe Caden or one of the FBI analysts would have better luck. Most likely she was wasting her time bothering to search.
Heather left Donnie Little and Patty Wicks on the back burner of her mind and rewound to the conversation she’d had with Musa. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d missed something. Some question she hadn’t asked. Something.
Still thinking, she pulled up her contact list on her phone and found Musa’s number and dialed it. After the fourth ring, the call went to voice mail. “Musa,” Heather said at the tone, “this is Heather Fontaine. I hate to bother you. Don’t know why I am, really. I just wanted to speak to you one more time about Abdul and the day of . . . well . . . the day he died. I’m sorry to ask you to rehash it, but I would appreciate a call back when you have the time.” She gave him the number, then hung up and sat there, her mind churning, her left leg bouncing.
With an impatient sigh, she forced her leg still and texted Travis, asking for an update whenever he had a moment. His reply came within seconds.
Herman is gone. We’re going to have to move him. Loading him up to take him out to bury him. Thankfully, Joe had the grave already dug.
I’m so sorry. Sorry for Sandra and your grief, but glad Herman is no longer suffering.
Same here, thanks. Will touch base soon.
Heather stood to pace while she rewound her thoughts to the night she’d fled her home and friends. That night was the beginning of everything. Before then, Musa had been watching her—not a stalker after all—so what had triggered the break-in that night? Or was it all just a stupid coincidence that it had happened at that particular time?
She went back to Benny Silver. Another question nagged at her. Something she should remember, but the thought refused to let her grab hold of it. Something about Benny and a medical issue. She’d seen him in the hospital, but for what? And why?
The doorbell rang and Heather jerked, the fleeting thought gone. She opened the front door. Gina’s curious dark green eyes met hers, and the relief that pulsed through her at seeing her friend made her realize just how worried she’d been. “Hey there. Come on in.” Heather escorted her into the den area. “Did you have any trouble getting here?”
“No, the roads had a few slick spots, but it wasn’t too bad. Going to get worse, though. Probably pretty fast.”
“Did you bring an overnight bag?”
“I did. I left it in my car for the moment.” Gina’s gaze traveled the room. “This place is amazing. I had no idea Travis lived out here.”
“This is the first time I’ve seen it too.”
“I told you there was a special look in his eyes whenever they landed on you.” Gina grinned.
Heather could feel the heat rising at Gina’s words and knowing look. She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips, even as she dreaded telling the woman what she knew. This was her friend, a woman who’d helped her save lives in the operating room time after time. How could she tell her that her mother-in-law was a monster? A bigger one than she’d ever dreamed. “Well, I’m not going to argue about it this time.”
Gina laughed. Then sobered. “Okay, so what’s going on? Why would you think I’m in danger?”
“Have you not seen the social media posts your mother-in-law’s putting up?”
With a groan, Gina rubbed her head. “No, I haven’t checked it lately. I got so tired of her hate that I haven’t logged in.”
“Well, I’m sorry to be the one to show you, but . . . come look.”
“What is it?”
“She’s all but made threats against you, Gina.”
Gina’s eyes widened. “Threats? Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately. Has she ever said anything to you about blaming you for Brad’s death?”
Heather led the way into Travis’s office and rounded the desk to seat herself in front of the computer once more. She wiggled the mouse, typed in the password, and the Facebook page she’d left open popped up. After refreshing it, Heather stood and motioned for Gina to stand beside her so she could see the screen.
For a moment, Gina simply frowned. “Yes, she’s made threats. A number of times. To my face. She blames me for talking him into one more tour.”
“What do you mean?”
“Brad wanted out. I didn’t.” She rubbed her eyes. “I was doing good work there. At least I thought I was. I know now that it was all for nothing, but—”
“All for nothing? What?” Heather gripped her friend’s hand. “Never. We made a difference. We saved lives. You saved lives.”
“At the expense of Brad’s!” Tears welled and spilled over. She dashed them away with impatient swipes. “It wasn’t worth his life.”
Heather could understand her feeling that way, but she sure wouldn’t relegate the work they’d done to having no value or being worth nothing.
Gina shook her head. “I’m sorry. What do you have to show me?”
“Sit here and you’ll see.”
Heather moved, allowing Gina to slide into the chair. She stared silently at the screen while she clicked each picture and read each caption below.
“Caden said she’d added more pictures since I last looked at it,” Heather said, watching over Gina’s shoulder. As each picture slid past, Gina grew more tense. The last picture flickered briefly on the screen, and Gina gasped and shut the page. She whirled to face Heather. “I’ve seen enough. I’m going to delete the page as soon as I can get to my phone.”
“Wait,” Heather said, “go back—” Her ringing phone cut her off. She glanced at the screen. “I have to take this.”
“Sure.”
“Your room is upstairs on the right. Across from Ryker’s.”
“He’s here too?”
“Yes. Not here in the house at the moment, but . . . it’s a long story. Let me grab this call and then I’ll explain.”
“Sure. I’ll just go get my stuff.”
Heather waited for Gina to leave, then swiped the screen. “Hi, Musa, thank you for calling me back.” She sat back in front of the computer and opened the screen again. She’d seen something in that last picture that she wanted another look at.
“What can I do for you, Dr. Fontaine?”
“I hate to ask, but I keep thinking about the shirt that Abdul was wearing that day. Do you know anything about that?”
“Yes, Ravi told me,” Musa said. “And I have thought long and hard whether to tell you about it. Which is why I said nothing.”
Uh oh. “Why wouldn’t you want to tell me?”
“Because it is special to you. It makes you think of Abdul and . . .”
“And?”
A sigh filtered through the line to her. “And I do not want to take that away from you.”
“Please,” Heather said, “just tell me.”
After a brief pause, he said, “The shirt was given to him by the person who took Rayi. He was told to wear it. He was told he must wear it. That it was part of the deal to release his brother safely.”
Heather’s heart thudded a pained beat. The killer had forced Abdul to wear the shirt. So, what was the significance of that? “I see.”
“Anyway, is there anything else you need?”
Footsteps outside the office door caught her attention and she stood. “No, thank you for calling me back.”
“Of course.”
They said their goodbyes and she hung up, then strode into the hallway to see Gina at the bottom of the stairs. “The bedroom looks like it will be perfect. I’m just going to take this up there.”
“Okay, do you need any help?”
“I’ve got it, thanks.”
Gina slipped up the stairs, and Heather returned to the computer. Wiggled the mouse and waited for the page to appear on the screen.
She frowned and zeroed in on the honeymoon picture—the one that she’d gotten a glimpse of when Gina had clicked on it.
And there it was. �
�How can that be?” she whispered to the empty room.
She blinked and looked again. The picture hadn’t changed. Brad Wicks was wearing the shirt that Abdul had on the day he’d attempted to blow up the hospital. The one Musa had just told her his son had been forced to wear as part of the deal.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Travis worked the controls of the tractor to lower the horse into the grave. Sandra and Martin and the vet stood to the side, watching, shielding their faces from the whipping wind. From this side of the pasture, Travis had an unobstructed view of the front of his home, and he’d noticed the red pickup truck drive onto the property. He also noticed the chains on the tires. Good for her. At the entrance to the property, one of the ranch hands had verified the driver’s identity before sending her on to the house.
Gina.
Good. Since this was taking much longer than he’d planned, having another person in the house with Heather eased his anxiety a fraction. As much as the ranch hands would do their best to protect those on the land, the place wasn’t trespasser-proof. It was still possible for someone to gain access to the land without being noticed, just not to Travis’s home. Which was where Heather was, so that was all that mattered for the moment.
Once the horse was in the hole, Travis maneuvered the controls once again and pushed the dirt over him. Over and over until there was a rounded lump covering the area.
He’d just shut off the engine when he spotted his mother racing toward them. Dread coated his insides at the look on her face. She stopped at the edge of the fence and waved to Sandra, who broke away from Martin and Ian and ran to meet her. His mother said something to his sister and handed her a cell phone. His mother headed back to the house—probably because she didn’t want to leave the younger kids alone too long. Sandra ran along behind her, phone pressed to her ear.
Travis stepped out of the Bobcat and went to Martin. “Wonder what that’s all about?”
“I don’t know. But I heard Gigi say my dad’s name.”
“I’m going to get out of your hair,” Ian said.
Travis shook the vet’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”
“Of course.”
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