Cold Case Manhunt

by Jenna Night

  They continued walking toward a section of town with industrial businesses, including a repair shop for boat bodies and engines. That business had an employee Cassie wanted to speak with. Jimmy Moreno had once been picked up for residential burglary and his family had gone to Rock Solid Bail Bonds to get him out of lockup. The charges had eventually been dropped. Maybe he’d been innocent. Maybe he’d gotten away with a crime. In any event, he had friends who’d been arrested on multiple occasions. Cassie suspected he knew more about the criminal activities around Stone River than the average person, so she figured she’d show up at his workplace to ask if he’d heard anything about the attacks on her or maybe even Jake’s murder.

  Unfortunately, as soon as she found him in the cavernous repair shop, he made it clear that he had nothing to say to her. And he punctuated that point by dropping his welding mask over his face and getting right back to work.

  “Well, that was a bust,” she said to Leon as the two of them walked out of the shop and into the bright sunlight.

  “Maybe not,” Leon said slowly.

  Cassie glanced over at him and then followed his gaze. A familiar figure had stepped out from the narrow alley between two buildings and onto the sidewalk, where he hesitated.

  “Is that Phil Warner?” Leon asked.

  “Sure looks like him.” After telling Cassie about his cellmate who’d ultimately been identified as Seth Tatum, the informant had done a disappearing act. She’d called and texted him multiple times, wanting to revisit every single detail that Phil could remember regarding his time spent with Seth. But Phil, who was normally quick to respond to an opportunity to earn a few easy bucks by sharing information, had not replied. Stopping by his downtown apartment later today to look for him was already on Cassie’s to-do list.

  Phil started moving down the sidewalk then paused in front of a tavern.

  Cassie and Leon followed him.

  “Phil!” Cassie called out as he reached for the tavern door.

  He turned and, as they closed in on him, she could see his eyes grow rounder. He yanked the door open and ran inside.

  “I’ll head for the back,” Leon said, sprinting for the narrow alley on the other side of the tavern.

  Cassie raced for the front door, grimacing at the pain emanating from her sore muscles.

  The dark tavern’s interior was jarring after the bright sunlight. The glow from the neon beer signs and the TV over the bar showing a baseball game gave off just enough light for her to see where she was going.

  She spotted six people seated at the bar and about the same number at surrounding tables. She’d have to get closer to each of them in this dim light to figure out if one of them might be Phil. Because now, after he’d seen her and bolted, she was determined to find out why he was hiding from her.

  A flash of bright sunlight blinded her for a second. Someone had opened the back door. She saw a silhouette that fit the size and shape of Phil. And then she saw another, much larger, silhouette step into the frame created by the doorway. Leon. Cassie hurried toward the back as Phil retreated into the tavern and Leon let the door drop shut behind him.

  “What’s the matter, Phil?” Cassie asked. “You not in the mood for a chat?”

  “Looks to me like he was more in the mood to skedaddle,” Leon said after a few seconds passed and the informant hadn’t responded. He turned to Phil. “You got someplace you need to be?”

  Phil’s slight build and big brown eyes made him appear younger than his thirty-five years at first glance. But this close, even in the dim light, Cassie could see the lines marking the passage of time on his face. She could also see the fear in his eyes.

  Phil lifted his chin defiantly. “You can’t stop me from leaving if I want to. I’m no bail jumper and you two aren’t cops.”

  “We wouldn’t dream of stopping you.” Cassie glanced at Leon and he took a step aside so that he was no longer physically blocking Phil from the exit. “I just wanted a minute to talk.” She reached into her jeans’ pocket for the cash she always kept on hand for moments like this, when a small incentive might make a situation run smoother.

  Phil reached for the money and she yanked it back. “We talk first.”

  She moved to a nearby plastic-topped rickety table and sat on a chair, stifling the slight moan triggered by her sore hip. Phil dropped down in the chair across from her while Leon grabbed a chair from a nearby table and brought it over for himself.

  “Why have you been hiding from me?” Cassie asked. “You didn’t return my calls or texts. You ran when I called out to you. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” Phil wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I just wasn’t in the mood to talk to you.” He sat straighter in the chair and squared his shoulders. “I wanted to be left alone.”

  “You’re afraid,” Cassie said. “It’s obvious. Tell me why. Did someone threaten you? Did Seth Tatum threaten you?”

  “Who?”

  The confusion on Phil’s face appeared genuine. Cassie knew that he was a smooth liar but not a particularly good actor.

  “Seth Tatum,” Cassie said. “That’s the name of the guy in the jail cell you told me about.”

  “Oh,” Phil said, his eyebrows vaulting slightly, as though that were an interesting bit of information. “He never told me his name. Or if he did, I forgot it.”

  “Is anybody threatening you?” Cassie asked. “Because Leon and I might be able to help you if they are.”

  Phil glanced at Leon. Leon nodded in return. Phil looked uncertain about the situation.

  “Nobody threatened me, Cassie,” Phil finally said, dropping his hands from the tabletop to his lap. “But I’ve heard about the attacks on you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  He tilted his head slightly and broke eye contact with her, shifting his gaze to his hands in his lap. “When I heard about the people coming after you, maybe even trying to kill you, I got scared. I thought it might have something to do with what I told you. And then I saw on TV that the mayor was looking into ramping up the investigation into your husband’s murder. After that, I got really scared that whoever killed your husband would find out what I told you and they’d come after me.”

  “I can understand you being worried, but I doubt you’re on anybody’s radar,” Cassie said. “I think you’re safe talking to me. So tell me, what did you and Seth talk about while you were locked up together?”

  Phil shook his head. “I already told you everything I remember, which isn’t much. I’d been drinking. I was starting to sober up when he began crying and babbling about something. I had a splitting headache and I wasn’t in the mood to listen to him. I just remember him saying that he knew something about the murder of a state trooper who lived in Stone River.”

  Sometimes a person could mention Jake’s murder and Cassie would feel a familiar wave of sadness. Other times, like now, it triggered a sharp stab of grief in the center of her chest. She took a deep breath and forced the feeling aside.

  “Did you come here to meet someone?” Cassie asked, glancing past Phil’s shoulder.

  Phil shook his head. “Nah, I just came here for lunch. When the game is on, you can get two hot dogs for a dollar.”

  Cassie handed the cash still in her hand across the table to Phil. “Here, why don’t you go get lunch at a place with better food?”

  His eyes lit up. “I will!” He snatched the money from her hand. “Thanks. We’re done here, right?”

  Cassie nodded and Phil didn’t waste any time getting up and heading out the back door.

  “I could go for some lunch,” Leon said. “How about you?”

  “I could eat. But not here.”

  “No, not here.”

  They headed for the front door. It felt to Cassie like every eye on the place was on them. She might just be paranoid. But
she had good reason to be.

  * * *

  “I don’t think Stefan Kasparov had a clue that some joint drug task force was watching him five years ago. Much less that he would have targeted that cop who got murdered.” Travis Jefferson, small-time intermittent drug dealer, rubbed a hand through his bristly red hair and spared a glance toward Cassie.

  Leon could see the guy’s freckled face turn a little redder. He’d probably just remembered that cop who got murdered had been Cassie’s husband.

  “Sorry,” Travis muttered before looking away from her.

  It was early evening and the three of them were standing outside the bodega where Travis worked while he took his break and smoked a cigarette. Scents from a burger stand down the street drifted in their direction and Leon’s stomach rumbled. He’d long ago burned through his fish taco lunch with Cassie and now he was hungry for dinner. Fortunately, Travis was the last person on their list to be interviewed today.

  They had tried a slightly different tactic when questioning this afternoon, asking specifically if the informant or client had heard anything about three particular people. Bryan Rogan, whose trial should conclude in the upcoming week. Jerry Lutz, who apparently still blamed Jake for his wife’s leaving him after he’d gone to prison. And even Stefan Kasparov, the drug supplier the joint-agency law enforcement task force had been focused on when Jake was murdered.

  Travis Jefferson was the fifth person they’d talked to since lunch. They’d gotten some interesting general information so far, but nothing that could direct them to the killer. That was okay, though. They’d made it clear they would pay for information, which meant any one of the people they’d talked to might now go in search of good information in exchange for cash.

  So far, Travis was the only person willing to say anything at all about Kasparov. The others had seemed afraid to even say his name. He was known to be a very violent man.

  “I’m surprised to hear that you think Stefan had no clue he was being watched by the task force,” Cassie said to Travis. “Clearly, he’s a sharp guy. He’s still in business, managing to stay out of lockup for the last five years despite supplying massive amounts of drugs to the region.”

  Travis shrugged. “Five years ago, Stefan knew he was smart and I’d venture to guess he was sure he was smarter than the cops. He wasn’t looking over his shoulder as much as he should have been. Then the state trooper was killed. After that, Stefan got hauled in for questioning. He was a suspect for a while. He wised up after that and got more secretive. But until that point, he didn’t have the motivation to go after any cop. He didn’t think they were a threat to him.”

  Leon glanced over at Cassie. She gave him a quick nod, which told him she believed what Travis was telling her and that she was finished talking with him.

  Leon reached into his pocket for some money to pay for the information. He’d recovered Travis a couple of different times after he’d been absent for court dates related to drug possession charges and his bond had been revoked. He was nearing thirty years old, generally polite, and the assessment he’d just given Cassie of Stefan Kasparov seemed like the truth.

  After thanking him and saying their goodbyes, Leon and Cassie walked to Leon’s truck. Once they were inside, he cranked up the engine and headed for the historic downtown area and the Rock Solid Bail Bonds office.

  Cassie was quiet as they drove along the narrow streets. Leon noticed she was watching the side mirror to make sure they weren’t being followed. He was likewise keeping an eye out for anyone tailing them.

  “You must be worn out after all you’ve been through with the attacks and then hiking around town all day.”

  She didn’t respond at first. He glanced over and saw that she had shifted her attention to Lake Bell and the lights along the shoreline that appeared to flicker in the purple evening glow.

  “Talking about Jake really brings it all back,” she said without facing him, her voice scratchy with emotion. “Some days it feels like he’s been gone a million years, and other days it feels like he was here just a few minutes ago.”

  The sorrowful tone of her voice hit Leon square in the center of his chest. He desperately wanted to do something to make things better for her, but there was nothing he could do. The man she had loved had been taken from her. Brutally murdered. Leon didn’t know what to say. He’d been through some tough times, but nothing quite like that.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally said.

  They stopped at a red light. She sighed deeply. When she exhaled, he could see her tense shoulders drop noticeably. She turned to him. “I just feel so stuck,” she said. “Jake has passed on. I accept that. I have for a while, truly. But I’m still here and I can’t seem to get moving again with my life. Work is fine. But my life feels stuck.”

  This was Cassie letting down a major emotional wall in front of Leon. Not something she normally did. Maybe not something she ever did. Cassie Wheeler was a physically small woman with a sterling reputation in a tough and oftentimes dangerous profession. Being vulnerable was never part of her game plan. Leon felt honored and terrified at the same time. What could he possibly do to make things better for her? What could he say?

  Dear Lord, please give me the right words, he prayed silently.

  The light turned green and they moved forward through the intersection.

  “Sometimes being frustrated is a good sign,” he said, deciding just to go with what he honestly thought rather than try to be wise or clever. He considered the stretch of time in his own life when he’d felt stuck. When his own battles with alcohol, with drugs and with stupid behavior got him locked up a few times. Finally, frustration had pushed him to seek something more for his life. And faith had become his answer. He knew that faith was a firm foundation in Cassie’s life, too.

  “If you want to move forward, you have to get used to not knowing exactly what the next step is going to be,” he said. “At least, that was my experience. And that’s hard for people like you and me, because we know how much danger there is in the world. But sometimes staying still isn’t the best answer. And so you’ve got to take a risk and make that first small move.”

  Was she intimating what he’d thought she was when she’d said her life felt stuck? That she was looking for romance? That meant she’d be moving toward building a relationship with a new man in her life. It made Leon feel hollow just thinking about it. But he wanted her to be happy. And her happiness was more important to him than any pity party he might hold for himself the first time he saw her with another man.

  Cassie didn’t say anything for the rest of the drive and Leon was honestly relieved. He was already worried that he’d said the wrong thing. He wasn’t exactly a life coach kind of guy.

  He pulled into a slot in the parking area behind the Rock Solid Bail Bonds office.

  “You know what?” Cassie asked just before he cut the engine.

  “What?”

  “You’re a lot smarter than you look.”

  A laugh came out of Leon that arose from the depths of his belly, breaking the tension he’d felt for the last few minutes. It was a reassurance that the connection between the two of them was still there. At least for now.

  “Why, thank you, ma’am,” he replied.

  She moved slowly as she got out of the truck.

  “We’re heading out to the ranch in a half hour,” he announced just before she unlocked the back door of the office and disabled the alarm. “If there’s still work that needs to be done beyond that time that you can’t take care of at the ranch, then we’ll get Harry or Martin and Daisy to come down here and deal with it.”

  “I mainly just wanted to grab the mail,” she said, walking toward the front door where a few envelopes had been pushed in through the narrow slot and had piled on the floor. “And since we’re here, I might as well check the phone for messages.”

  Leon had locked
the back door behind him and was heading into the main office when he heard the sound of shattering glass. They’d had rocks and bricks thrown through the window before. It was the nature of their business that people got upset by the work that they did. Still, a rock or brick to the head could be lethal. It was definitely something to take seriously.

  He raced forward and saw the hole in the plate-glass window. Then he spotted Cassie, apparently unscathed, looking at the floor. He was just rounding a desk to see what she was looking at when a second object crashed through the window.

  That object landed on the floor and rolled to a stop. Metal. Cylindrical. Something attached to the end. Like maybe a detonator.

  “Bomb!” he yelled, grabbing Cassie and half dragging, half carrying her as he raced for the rear exit. He had to get them both outside before the devices exploded. His fingers fumbled with the multiple latches as he desperately tried to get her out of there in time.

  But he was too late.

  SEVEN

  Leon threw himself on top of Cassie as the first blast rocketed through the office. The sudden loud bang was followed by a rush of hot, pressurized air that flung broken glass, shards of ripped wood and plastic, and bits of metal through the air. The fiery whirlwind felt like a burning, cutting cloud as it made its way over Leon’s body and the protective cage he’d formed around Cassie’s head with his bent arms.

  She felt a little nauseated in the aftermath and her head was swimming.

  Seconds after the pressure wave passed, she tried to move. Leon’s body was like a deadweight on top of her. Something terrible had happened to him. She knew it. With a feeling of sickening dread in the pit of her stomach, she tried to place the palms of her hands flat on the floor beneath her shoulders so she could push herself up. But she couldn’t budge. He was way too heavy.