Gone Daddy Gone (Sloane Monroe Book 7)

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  He grinned, leaned against the doorframe. “Maybe it should.”

  A frustrated Nick looked like he was seconds away from giving Joe’s face a makeover. We were getting off topic.

  “I’m a private investigator working on Cade McCoy’s case,” I said.

  He jerked his head back, laughed. “That asshole? Don’t waste your time. Looks like he got what was coming to him. Doesn’t surprise me. I knew he would sooner or later.”

  I tightened my jaw to keep from spouting off, and then dove back in, switching gears. “I’m sorry about what happened to your mother.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s in the past. I don’t think about it no more.”

  “How are your younger brothers doing?”

  “Fine as two kids can be without a mother.”

  “Your father doesn’t have anyone new in his life?”

  He rubbed a hand along his jawline. “What do you want from me, really? I mean we can stand here forever, shooting the breeze. Why not just tell me why you’re here?”

  “We’re looking for the guy who shot Cade,” I said. “We were hoping to ask you a few questions.”

  He curved his lips into a smile. “You can ask me anything you like, but I don’t know anything about it other than what I’ve heard.”

  “Can we come in?”

  Joe stepped back, allowing us inside his quintessential bachelor pad.

  A musty smell of burnt pizza and sweaty socks wafted through the room, so strong I wished I’d remained outside, even though at half past ten in the morning, it was a brisk twenty-two degrees. Joe swept his hand across the sofa, pushing a pile of newspapers, biker magazines, and fast-food bags to the floor.

  “My maid is off today,” he laughed. “Have a seat.”

  “Over the last week, Cade—”

  Before I could finish, he cut me off.

  “Just hang on a second. First things first.” He headed to the kitchen, grabbed a few beers from the fridge, and set them down on coffee table. “Want one?”

  We refused. He shrugged, cracked one open, and plopped down on an old, tattered chair that was torn in multiple places. He leaned back, spread his legs, and got started on the beer. “Okay, continue.”

  “I was saying, Cade McCoy’s daughter, Shelby, was murdered in Salt Lake City this last week, and yesterday there was an assassination attempt made on Cade’s life.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “You just returned from the military last month, and I hear you’ve been going around town telling everyone you blame Cade for your mother’s death.”

  “Yeah, and? I have no reason to lie about it.”

  His tone was calm and pensive. If I’d rattled him, it didn’t show.

  “Your mother was going to shoot your father,” I said. “Cade was just trying to do his job. If he could have spared her life, he would have. Believe me.”

  He finished his beer and opened a second one. “Believe you? Really? I know why he did it, but he could have taken a different shot. Not only did he kill her, he did it right in front of my brothers. Far as I’m concerned, he’s dirty—as dirty as a cop can get.”

  “He’s not, Joe. He still thinks about what happened that day. He didn’t want to shoot her at all.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I just do,” I said.

  He leaned back, kicked his bare foot on top of the coffee table. “Yeah, well, she’s dead, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change it now. No use talkin’ about a past that can’t be changed, right? I mean, what’s the point?”

  “The point is, Cade’s in the hospital, struggling for his life,” Nick said. “And when we put together a list of suspects who have reason to take a shot at him, you’re at the top.”

  “Well, ain’t that convenient? I didn’t shoot him, or his kid. I’m not a murderer. I wouldn’t be sittin’ here talking to you without reprehension if I had anything to hide.”

  By reprehension I assumed he had actually meant to say representation, but I didn’t see the point in correcting him. I leaned over, snatching a deck of playing cards off of an end table. “Mind if I take a look at these?”

  “Keep ‘em if you want. I have more.”

  I pulled the cards out of the box, fanned them out, and counted. All there. Next I divided them into suits. Again, none were missing.

  “Do you own a firearm?” Nick asked.

  “Uhh ... this is Wyoming, man. Who doesn’t?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “I own three, and they’re all registered. You can check.”

  “What kind?”

  He told us. Given we knew the type of bullets used, none of his guns matched the one we were after.

  “What kind of gun was used in the shooting?” he asked.

  “We can’t discuss that information,” Nick said.

  “‘Course not.”

  “Where were you yesterday around noon?”

  “With my brothers at Tony’s Pizzeria.”

  “How long?”

  “Long enough. Ask anyone who works there.”

  “Where did you go after you—”

  “Okay, guys,” Joe said. “I see where this is going. I’m not stupid. You think I shot him. I already said I didn’t. Karma bit him in the ass yesterday, and I feel no sympathy for what happened to the guy. But I didn’t shoot him, and I wouldn’t shoot a woman. Anyone who would doesn’t have his head straight. You two can show yourselves out.”

  CHAPTER 30

  I sat across from Nick at a local coffee shop, eating a chocolate-filled croissant and blowing on my chai latte to cool it down. “Well, what do you think?”

  “Hard to know what to think anymore,” Nick said. “I don’t think Joe is responsible for what happened to Shelby or Cade. Sure, he ran his mouth, but he seems far too lazy and stupid to orchestrate something like this on his own.”

  “We’re zero for two again then. Proctor doesn’t think Jeff Ward did it either. I feel like the intuition I usually get is just not there. I’m blocked.”

  “When we were together and you couldn’t figure something out, you used to do yoga. Most of the time it worked. You’d get clear again.”

  “I haven’t had the time.”

  “Maybe you should make some.”

  I left him and drove to the hospital, not knowing what to expect when I arrived. Turned out Cade was heavily sedated, in a coma-like state. The nurse said it was a necessary step, helping to rest his brain.

  I wandered through the halls, not knowing what to do or where to go. I thought about what Nick had said about getting clear and went in search of a chapel. It was a small room with two rows of chairs. A cross was nailed to the wall at the front. It was crooked, and I was about to walk up and fix it until I noticed a woman sitting in the first row. Her eyes were closed, hands pressed together in prayer. She uttered some words under her breath and then opened her eyes and looked over at me.

  “I know who you are,” she said. “You’re Sloane.”

  I nodded. “Who are you?”

  She planted a wooden cane on the floor, using it to help her rise, and then walked over and sat in the chair next to me. “I’ve known Cade since he was a boy. His father and I were close friends. I wasn’t sure whether they’d let me see him today, but I thought I’d come down and try. How are you doing? Are you okay?”

  No. I wasn’t.

  “I’m trying to be.”

  She glanced back at the cross and smiled. “You know, in times like these, I find prayer is one of the only things that brings me comfort. Are you religious?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. I believe in something, a higher power perhaps. I’d like to believe in some form of afterlife, that when we die, we go on, existing in another way. I just don’t know for sure.”

  “I can tell you’re troubled. Not just about Cade—about a lot of things.”

  “I’ve never been so frustrated with a case before. I’m trying to find the man responsible for what happened
to Cade and Shelby before he strikes again. Everything’s cloudy, and I need it to be clear.”

  “You’ve been through a lot, hun. You can’t expect a cloud to separate before its time.”

  She was right.

  She tapped me on the leg, stood. “Clouds and darkness surround us, yet Heaven is just, and the day of triumph will surely come, when justice and truth will be vindicated.”

  “What an interesting quote.”

  She winked. “Yes, it is. A wise quote from a wise woman. It was Mary Todd Lincoln who said it. Good luck to you. I have no doubt you’ll find the man you’re looking for when the time is right.”

  She walked through the doorway and disappeared into the hall. I remained for a moment, leaning back on the chair, thinking I’d close my eyes and give clearing my mind a shot. But even then, all I could see was the crooked cross, taunting me to walk to the front of the room and do what came naturally. So I did.

  It was possible I was keeping myself from becoming clear, knowing clarity would force me to face a single truth I wasn’t ready to accept, about who the killer might really be after. Before I could give it any serious thought, I heard a voice in the hall. Maddie.

  “All right, all right. I’m fine!” she said. “I don’t need your stupid chair. It’s just a flesh wound. Stop forcing your agenda on me, mmm ... kay?”

  I found Maddie and Hooker standing in front of a nurse, who was determined to put Maddie in a wheelchair. “Maddie? What’s going on?”

  She looked over. “Oh, hey. I was just going to call you.”

  I looked her up and down. “What happened? Why is there blood all over your shirt?”

  “Uhh, well, there’s a simple explanation. I’ve been shot.”

  CHAPTER 31

  The man balled his hand into a fist, punching it against the cabin wall, again and again and again. He’d shot at Maddie and missed his target, and not by a small margin, by a lot. To make matters worse, before he could get off another shot, she had pulled herself back inside the building and locked the door behind her, making it impossible for him to finish what he had started.

  He was slipping, making careless mistakes, botching what should have been an easy kill. He slumped onto the bed, sinking down into the mattress. The springs poked into his spine, needling him like they too were reminding him of his failures. He snatched a half-full bottle of whiskey off the nightstand and tipped it back, guzzling it down until it was gone. He hurled it, watching it shatter against the log walls.

  He needed to rethink his game plan, and fast.

  He’d hit Cade where he’d intended, but somehow, Cade had survived. And with the ‘round-the-clock surveillance outside of his hospital room, there was no chance of getting close to him anytime soon. Maddie would also be protected.

  He knew what he needed to do, to keep his focus on what mattered most, his endgame. There was only a small timeframe in which to acquire his next target, and he couldn’t fail, not this time. She was the key to everything.

  CHAPTER 32

  “You were shot!” I said.

  Maddie boosted herself onto a patient bed and reclined back. “Yeah. It’s no biggie. Hurts like hell though.”

  “When did it happen, and where?”

  She shrugged. “Hooker and I were at the lab. We decided to break for lunch. I walked out first, and he was grabbing his coat and meeting me at the car. When I got outside, I looked over and noticed a guy standing there. He was dressed in black with sunglasses and a ball cap, and he had his arms crossed in front of him. It looked like he was waiting for someone. I assumed he was one of the assistants’ boyfriends until he jerked one of his arms forward, and I realized the jackass was holding a gun.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  She shook her head. “As soon as I saw the gun I backpedaled. He fired. I pulled the door back open, got back inside, and locked the door. Then I yelled for Hooker.”

  “Did the guy come after you?”

  “Yeah. He advanced on me and tried to get into the building. I ducked into one of the offices and hid behind a desk until Hooker found me.”

  “How bad is the wound?”

  She lifted her shirt, exposing a blood-soaked bandage over her chest. “You ask me, it’s kinda hot. I mean, think about the stories I can tell now when I’m on a date. I’ll have one hell of a scar. And hey, guys dig that shit.”

  “Maddie, this isn’t a joke. The guy could have killed you.”

  “I know, but hey, the dude didn’t hit a major artery. I’ll be just—”

  She stopped, realizing the gravity of the word she’d almost said. She’d be fine. Shelby and Cade hadn’t been so lucky.

  She leaned back on a pillow and looked up at me. “I’m sorry, Sloane. The rush of adrenaline is making me ignorant.”

  I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be. I’m glad you’re okay. Were you able to get a good look at the guy before you went back inside the building?”

  She shook her head. “It all happened so fast, I wasn’t able to focus on any of his features. I’ve thought about it, but it’s just a blur. He had the cap pulled down as low as it would go over his face, and it was too hard to see his hair ... anything really. He was hunched over when I first saw him, but even then, I could tell he was tall. I know it’s not a lot, but it’s something, I guess.”

  Hooker entered the room and was followed by a nurse. He’d caught the tail end of Maddie’s words and added, “After I found Maddie and she told me what happened, I took off outside, but the guy was long gone by then.”

  The nurse went to work on Maddie’s wound. She suggested it might be better if we left and returned later, adding something about the hospital’s policy on visitors. Maddie furrowed her brow, saying she didn’t give a damn about proper procedures. The nurse grunted something under her breath and left the room.

  I sat in a chair next to Maddie’s bed and organized my thoughts. If the killer had only been interested in those closest to Cade, Maddie didn’t fit the bill. He would have gone after someone closer to him, like me, or one of Cade’s closest friends or other relatives. Another theory came to mind. It was possible the killer’s target was Hooker, but when Maddie walked out of the lab door first, the killer had no choice but to shoot her once she saw him. This didn’t gel with me either. The killer was methodical, his attacks premeditated and planned. He wouldn’t get sloppy now.

  Maddie snapped her fingers. “Earth to Sloane. What’s going on over there? Are you listening to me?”

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “It’s not important. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m trying to figure out why you were the target.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe he was after Hooker. He is Cade’s best friend.”

  “I thought that too at first, but nothing in his MO leads me to believe he shot you by accident. We’re missing something here. I’m missing something.”

  And I was beginning to understand what it was.

  “I don’t know, Sloane. None of it makes sense.” She pointed to her backpack on the floor. “Hey, can you hand me my bag? Actually, I don’t need the whole bag, just my cell phone. Coop called. I told him I’d call him back.”

  I unzipped the top of her bag and looked inside. “I don’t see a cell phone in here.”

  “Oh, you know what? I think I put it in one of the side compartments. Sorry. Try the left pocket. It should be the only thing in there.”

  I unsnapped it and reached inside, pulling out a phone and handing it to her.

  “There’s something else in here too.”

  I stretched the pocket out and peeked inside.

  “Well, what is it?” Maddie asked.

  I lifted the item out of the pocket, holding it up in front of me. Between my two fingers was a playing card, the Queen of Hearts, and written on it, a familiar message: How does it feel?

  “The bullet was meant for you, Maddie. You were the target.”

  “But why? Why me?”

&n
bsp; I just shook my head, because I didn’t dare say what I was thinking—not until I was absolutely sure.

  CHAPTER 33

  A few hours later, I was standing in Bonnie’s living room trying to decide what I wanted to say, or if I should be saying anything at all.

  Noticing my inner tension, she started the conversation. “How’s your friend Madison doing?”

  “She’s fine. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  Bonnie nodded. “Of course, dear. Go on.”

  “I believe everyone is being targeted because of me. What I mean to say is, I believe I’m the one the killer is truly after. I wish it wasn’t true, and I wish I had a better explanation, but I don’t. After what happened to Maddie today, it makes sense.”

  “Have you shared your opinions with anyone else?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. You’re Cade’s closest family. I thought I owed it to you, to tell you first.”

  “Even if what you’re saying is true, as hard as it is to accept, it’s not your fault.”

  “Sure it is, Bonnie. If I hadn’t been in Cade’s life, Shelby would be alive right now, and Cade wouldn’t be in a hospital bed struggling to survive.”

  Although I could see the pain in her eyes, she managed a slight smile. “You can’t predict how it would have altered their reality. None of us can. Do you honestly think Cade hasn’t made enemies over the years? And look at the life Shelby was making for herself. She was an escort, for heaven’s sake. Every choice we make in this life has a risk attached to it—a consequence—and sometimes those consequences are out of our hands. Besides, you’re not sure whether your theory is even true or not yet.”

  But it was true—I could feel it.

  “If it turns out I’m right, I want you to know how sorry I am.”

  She wrapped her arms around me. “I’m not interested in an apology, Sloane. You’re not the one who needs to give it. I do need you to do something else for me though.”

  “Anything.”

  “Get yourself right in the head so you can find the man who did this and bring him to justice. If you don’t, and he gets away with what he’s done, not only will you spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder and worrying about all those you love, I fear you’ll never get past this, and it will consume you for the rest of your life.”