Eyes in the Sky

by Debbie Burke

  She folded her arms. “It’s Tillman’s house, as he’s so fond of reminding me. I guess you can do whatever you want.”

  Tawny moved past her. “Thank you.” She hurried toward the stairway to his suite.

  Rochelle said, “Wait.”

  Tawny turned. “What is it?”

  “My children. Are they all right?”

  “They’re with the rabbi’s family.”

  Anguish lined Rochelle’s beautiful face. “I need to explain. The rabbi refused to talk to me. To me, their own mother. But it’s not what he thinks. I’m not…I tried…” Long-lashed dark eyes pleaded. Her words spilled out in a rush: “You have children. You know what it’s like. They hate you. Sometimes you hate them back. You can’t help it. Mothers are human too.”

  Tawny studied the woman. A mottled pink flush stood out on her neck as her manicured fingers plucked at the collar of her blouse, pulling it away from skin that looked as painfully raw as Tawny’s felt.

  What did Rochelle want? Did she expect sympathy? Was she trying to build her defense against charges of child abuse? Was she an overwhelmed mother unable to cope?

  Or was she a murderer?

  Tawny swallowed. “Excuse me.” She hurried down the stairs to Tillman’s suite and locked the door behind her.

  Chapter 23 – Shot Down

  After a shower and bandaging her wounds, Tawny dressed in a long-sleeved green Henley she’d left in Tillman’s closet. She brushed dirt from her jeans and put them on again. Now she had to retrieve the Mercedes.

  Outside, she spoke briefly with the patrolling guard who promised to keep two staked-out reporters at bay so she could sneak to the road without being intercepted. She walked a half mile along the highway to the street where the Spanish house was located. Each step aggravated the aching ankle she’d twisted in the fall. Muscles spasmed in her back.

  When she reached the Spanish house where she’d left the SUV, the cul-de-sac was quiet and empty. No one appeared to have returned to the surveillance perch.

  As she drove to Judah’s middle school, news played on the radio about Steve Zepruder’s homicide and Tillman’s arrest. Unnamed sources at the sheriff’s department claimed a four-cell flashlight found in Tillman’s home was the suspected murder weapon because of fingerprint and blood evidence.

  The flashlight.

  Tawny remembered Tillman had brought it to the playhouse the night Mimi tried to kill herself. It was heavy black metal—standard cop equipment that could double as a billy club. She recalled how she’d struggled to hold onto it because her hands were shaky-weak from pumping Mimi’s chest.

  In the surrounding confusion with the ambulance and Tillman’s frightened children, Tawny had lost track of it. Did that same flashlight later bludgeon Steve?

  If so, both Tillman’s and her fingerprints were on it. Yet Detective Bettencourt hadn’t questioned her about that. Strange.

  She parked in front of the school as students were streaming out. Judah’s security guard, Edward, a light-skinned black man in his early thirties, waited at the entrance, scanning arriving vehicles. With his brush-cut hair and erect posture, Tawny pegged him as recent military. His demeanor reminded her of her own son, Neal, still on active duty. She didn’t spot a pistol bulge under his jacket but felt reassured it was there.

  She joined him at the door. “Everything OK?”

  He nodded. “Had to chase away a reporter trying to ambush Judah during lunch. Otherwise, fine.”

  When Judah came out the door, Edward dropped back to give them privacy. Tawny and the boy walked toward Tillman’s Mercedes.

  “How’s it going?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “OK.” He jerked his thumb at Edward. “PITA. Dude even follows me in to take a leak. First day, it was cool. Everyone figured I was really important to have a bodyguard. Now, I wish he’d get lost.”

  Tawny smiled. “Get used to it. Your dad isn’t going to call him off until the other kidnapper is caught.”

  “It’s stupid.” He noticed the bandages wrapped around Tawny’s hands. “What happened to you?”

  “A thrill ride down the Rimrocks. But I found something in the ravine.”

  Once inside the SUV, Tawny pulled the damaged drone from her tote bag.

  Behind white horn rims, Judah’s eyes widened. “Sick!”

  “I doubt it’ll ever fly again.”

  The boy turned the craft over, examining it. “The slot for the video card is bunged up. But if somebody can pry it out, maybe we can recover the video.”

  “Really?” Tawny leaned close. “I might know someone who can.”

  ****

  In the editing lab at the high school, principal Pamela Gibson smiled at Mr. Todd, Mimi’s film teacher. “You remember Tawny Lindholm, don’t you? And this is Mimi’s brother, Judah. They need some assistance with a video card and I thought you could help them.” Pamela nodded to Tawny and left.

  Todd’s annoyed expression gave way to curiosity when Judah showed him the broken drone.

  The boy asked, “Can you get the card out and see if it still works?”

  For several moments, Judah and Todd conversed in technical jargon that Tawny didn’t understand, while the teacher took apart pieces of the drone. He pulled out a tiny square wafer. “Need to put this into a larger SD card,” he muttered then inserted it, slid the card into his computer, and started clicking.

  Screens flashed past while Tawny searched her bag for her readers. She pulled out the charging unit wrapped in tissue and showed it to them, careful to hold it by the edges. “Can you tell me what this is?”

  Judah glanced away from the screen briefly. “Drone charger.” He frowned. “It’s not mine, though. That one’s still in my room at home.”

  While he and Todd went back to their geek chatter, Tawny pondered. Suppose whoever was surveilling Tillman’s house had also been using a drone to monitor activity, in addition to a scope.

  Maybe the watcher had seen Judah’s drone closing in and shot it down.

  She tucked the charger back into her purse and flexed her painful hands. Even with the worst scrapes covered in bandages, they still stung, along with her raw back. She pulled her shirt away from tender skin.

  “Got it,” Todd said.

  Video began to play on the monitor. First came the test movie of Tawny and Judah mugging for the camera. Then the scene shifted.

  Footage of the sandstone cliffs of the ravine appeared, followed by the coyote Judah had tracked on its unsuccessful hunt. Next, the view soared higher, moving above the Spanish tile roof of the vacant house. A figure in dark clothing stood on the third-story porch, staring up at the sky, one arm shading his eyes.

  “Can you zoom in on him?” Tawny asked.

  Todd clicked. The man grew larger, filling the screen.

  Although his face remained in shadow, his build and peculiar posture were unmistakable. Sasquatch. Alvin “Crooked Neck” Jimsen. Tawny said, “Stop it there.”

  Judah leaned in closer then turned to Tawny, eyes wide with recognition. “Is that…?”

  “Yeah,” she answered. “The kidnapper with the rifle. The one the cops found dead.”

  “Kidnapper?” Todd’s head jerked around. “Who’s dead?”

  “Bad dude,” Judah said. “Tawny shot him right in the eyes. It was awesome.”

  Awesome? She gulped.

  Todd stared at Tawny, brows furrowed. “You killed him?”

  Before she could answer, Judah again piped up, “Nah, somebody else finished him off. But before that, she killed a terrorist. That’s how she and my dad met. Don’t mess with her. She’s badass.”

  Tawny’s cheeks heated with embarrassment. Shut up, Judah. The teacher continued to stare at her, perplexed and wary. She flicked her hand at the screen. “Let’s keep going.”

  After a last nervous glance, Todd restarted the video.

  The scene shifted suddenly, swooping away from the house, out over the ravine. Judah said, “Remember, that’s wh
en you told me to back off from the roof.”

  For a brief instant, the camera caught a side view of the Spanish house. A light-colored blur appeared in one window.

  “Hold it,” Tawny said. “Back up to that shot of the window. Stop there. Can you zoom in?”

  The window filled the screen and the blur morphed into a face, peering through the glass.

  Steve Zepruder.

  Judah gasped. “Shit.” His eyes flicked back and forth, like Tillman’s did when he was putting pieces together. “Steve was one of the kidnappers?”

  She sighed. “Looks that way.”

  No doubt, Steve had been the driving force all along behind the surveillance on Tillman, even as he lied to Tawny with his soothing voice, endearing smile, and charming dimple.

  Judah’s lips curled. “Was he gonna let those thugs kill us?”

  “I think he expected your dad to pay the ransom. But we’ll never know.” She shrugged.

  “Five mill? Would Dad have paid that?”

  She squeezed his shoulder. “He’d do whatever it took to keep you safe.”

  Judah pondered for a moment, brows drawn together, then looked up at her. “You too. He’d do anything for you.”

  Emotion welled in her throat. She pulled the boy into her arms, his cheek pressed against her breast. He’d just have to live with the humiliation of being hugged in front of the teacher. “We’re pretty lucky he loves us, huh?”

  When she released Judah, instead of embarrassment, smugness rounded his plump cheeks. He shot a quick smirk at Todd that she guessed meant: Bet you wish you were me.

  She suppressed a smile, thinking, no, he probably doesn’t. “Let’s get back to work.” To Todd, she said, “Can you email this video to me?”

  The teacher’s earlier reticence had disappeared. “Sure. You want a thumb drive too?”

  “Good idea.” She wrote down her email address, along with Tillman’s.

  While Todd copied and sent the file, her mind spun. The video showed apparent proof that his treacherous partner had masterminded a plot to kidnap his children. That should help Tillman’s defense.

  But Detective Bettencourt might think that gave Tillman an even stronger motive to kill Steve.

  She wondered how Steve, Alvin Jimsen, and Frank Grand were connected. Of the three conspirators, only Grand remained alive. When the plan fell apart, Grand might have killed his partners in anger.

  Hope lifted Tawny’s heart. The more reasonable doubt she raised, the better Tillman’s chances. She thanked Todd, tucked the thumb drive in her bag, and left the high school, her arm around a beaming Judah who didn’t seem to care who saw him.

  ****

  Tawny and Judah arrived at Rabbi Weintraub’s home at the same time as Arielle and a gangly, red-headed boy were getting out of a Chevy Suburban driven by a security guard. The kids were holding hands, lost in their own world.

  In a snarky sing-song, Judah chanted, “Arielle and Richard sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

  Tawny remembered the relentless teasing between her own two children during their first crushes. “Go easy on your sister, OK? Someday you might fall in love and you don’t want to get paid back with the same crap you gave her.”

  He made a face and headed for the front door behind Arielle and Richard. Tawny watched from the Mercedes as they greeted each other. The interaction looked peaceful. For once, Judah apparently resisted the urge to torment his sister.

  With the kids safely inside the rabbi’s home, Tawny returned to the law office. At the back parking lot entrance she brushed past another staked-out reporter, ignoring the woman’s demand for a comment. Inside, the pine scent of air freshener hung heavy— Esther’s attempt to mask the cigarette smoke.

  A surprising, happy glow lit the office manager’s formerly dour expression. “You won’t believe what I got.”

  Tawny perched on the edge of the desk. “What?”

  Esther pulled out folded papers that looked like a bill. “I was opening the mail, like always, and this notice came for Steve.” She thrust the form under Tawny’s nose.

  Tawny fumbled in her bag for readers. “What does it say?”

  “It’s the notice of a premium due on a life insurance policy. Evidently our buddy Steve has a policy on himself.”

  Tawny peered through her glasses, searching for the reason for Esther’s elation. “And?”

  A husky chuckle. “So I dug around in Steve’s personal files and found the original policy.” She laid out a stapled sheaf of papers with an insurance company logo on the heading. “Two million bucks and the beneficiary is Rochelle. I’d say two mill is a pretty good motive for murder, wouldn’t you?”

  Tawny took the packet, crisp sheets crackling. “Damn straight. Oh, Esther, this is wonderful. It’s got to help Tillman.”

  “I thought you’d like it.” Esther noticed the bandages on Tawny’s hands. “What happened to you?”

  Since the discovery of the drone video that implicated Steve, Tawny had been so excited that she’d forgotten how banged up she looked. “A slide down the Rims. But the fall was worth it—I found evidence that looks like Steve was behind the attempted kidnapping.” She explained the footage on the video card from the drone camera. “Call up Tillman’s email. There should be a new message.”

  Esther tapped keys. She watched the video in silence until Steve’s face appeared in the window. Then she blurted, “That sneaky little bastard. To think Tillman and Rochelle named him guardian to their kids.” She rubbed her chin. “Of course, that’s because Rochelle insisted.”

  Tawny studied the life insurance policy. “I better get this new stuff over to Eve Landes. If the video and this policy don’t raise reasonable doubt for Tillman, I don’t know what will.” Despite her sprained, swollen ankle, she felt a new spring in her step as she hurried out the front door to avoid the reporter and headed toward Eve Landes’ office.

  Her heart twinged when she passed the Sheriff’s Department and the jail entrance. “I promise I’ll get you out of there,” she whispered, hoping Tillman could somehow hear the message she desperately wanted to send him.

  Two blocks beyond, she entered the same building where she’d earlier met Devin Guilford and rode the elevator to the fourth floor. Judge Landes had moved back into her old firm’s office to represent Tillman.

  Before Tawny had time to greet the receptionist, an inner door opened and the tall, stately judge appeared. “Tawny. Come in.” No smile, simply blank with an edge of hardness. Tawny wondered if attorneys took a special class in law school to learn how to maintain stone faces.

  While Eve settled in her chair, Tawny unpacked her bag, laying out the new evidence on the desk—the drone charger, the broken drone, the video card. Last, she smoothed open the life insurance policy in front of the judge.

  “What is all this?” Eve perched half-glasses on her nose.

  “Reasonable doubt.” Tawny took a deep breath and recounted her search of the vacant Spanish house and her discovery that Steve and the kidnappers had been watching Tillman’s home. Then her slide down the ravine that led her to finding Judah’s drone with the video card still intact. And, finally, Steve’s two million dollar policy that named Rochelle as the beneficiary.

  When Tawny finished her explanation, her heart pounded. This had to be enough to free Tillman.

  But why didn’t Eve look pleased? She studied the array spread on her desk but did not touch a single object, even the insurance papers.

  Finally she leaned back and steepled her fingers in front of her mouth, lightly tapping her upper lip as she rocked in her chair.

  Tawny waited. As silence stretched longer, apprehension fluttered in her stomach.

  At last, Eve said, “I spent two hours this morning with Tillman. He’s an extremely stubborn man.”

  “Is he all right?”

  Eve removed the half-glasses and lightly massaged her eyelids. “He predicted you’d do something like this. He didn’t know what you’d find bu
t he knew you wouldn’t quit digging.”

  The knots in Tawny’s shoulders pulled tighter, tugging the muscles at the base of her skull. “I have to try to help him.”

  The stony face softened a fraction. “I know you do.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Where do I start?” Eve sighed. “You broke into a house and removed potential evidence. You disturbed a probable crime scene by taking the broken drone. You allowed an unknown person to tamper with a video that might or might not be evidence.”

  Oh hell. In her anxiousness, Tawny had been so focused on getting Tillman out of jail that she didn’t even consider the concerns the judge now raised. All she cared about was finding reasonable doubt.

  “Have I screwed up Tillman’s defense?” Frantic, she pushed the life insurance policy closer to the judge. “What about this? Rochelle will get two million dollars. That’s a strong motive. On top of that, she was furious that Steve had betrayed her by screwing her daughter.”

  Why didn’t this brilliant judge recognize the obvious?

  Again, the steepled hands. “Actually you didn’t do any harm because…none of this matters now.”

  “Why not?” The volume of Tawny’s voice startled her. She didn’t mean to shout.

  “I will talk to him about what you found but I don’t think it will help.” After another long pause, Eve spoke slowly, deliberately: “Tillman is going to plead guilty.”

  Tawny’s legs turned to water. She collapsed into the chair behind her. A tight band around her chest squeezed the air from her lungs. “No,” she whispered.

  From the moment they’d found Steve’s body, she knew this was possible. Not only possible, but likely. Means, motive, opportunity played like a chant in her head, over and over.

  She couldn’t help grasping at hope that Tillman was innocent, that someone else had killed Steve.

  But now her worst fear was confirmed.

  Tillman had killed Steve.

  She gripped the arms of the chair. Her hands burned as if she were holding them to an open flame. “Is that…why…he wouldn’t talk to me?”

  Eve said softly, “I’m sorry, Tawny. Really sorry.”