by L A Dobbs
Sam held up his hands. “Now hold on. You don’t have to do this. If you tell us everything you know about Thorne, we’ll see that you get protection. New name. New job. And you’ll go free.”
Alvin laughed. “You think I’m going to fall for that? Nope. I have to shoot Officer Harris here and then shoot you with her gun. Make it look like there was some kind of a disagreement between the two of you when you came over to frame me. She shot at you, and I had to shoot her to protect you. Too bad her shot was fatal.”
“I don’t think so, Alvin. Put the gun down.”
Alvin Ray barely flinched when Kevin spoke behind him. He turned just enough to see Kevin holding a gun pointed straight at his head.
“Oh, a third one. Perfect. Now what if you two were in cahoots and the third one found out? Yep. And what if there was a shootout but not because of me? Because one of you found out the other two were working for the bad guys. He’d have to be silenced, right? It wouldn’t be too bad if you all ended up dead, especially with each other’s guns. Then there’d be no story to believe but mine.”
Sam’s gut churned. Alvin was crazy if he thought he could pull that off. But the look in his eye told Sam he just might be crazy. “No one will believe that.”
“Oh no?” Alvin scoffed. “Just ask Detective Deckard here.”
The statement surprised Sam, and he glanced at Kevin. What was Alvin talking about? He was probably trying to confuse him.
“Yeah, that’s right. Well, enough talk. Time for Officer Harris to die.” Alvin jabbed the gun straight toward Jo, aiming high at the center of her forehead. Sam’s heart skipped, his eyes focusing on Alvin’s trigger finger.
Sam reached for his own gun. He had no choice. He couldn’t let Alvin shoot Jo.
Behind Sam, something crashed through the window. Glass rained down on the floor as a blur of black and brown catapulted between Jo and the gun.
“No!” Kevin lunged between Lucy and Alvin.
Sam’s eyes were still glued to Alvin’s finger as he brought his own gun up.
Alvin squeezed the trigger as Sam fired at Alvin.
The two gunshots exploded at almost exactly the same time.
The impact knocked Jo to the floor. Time seemed to both slow down and speed up. Her ears rang from the blasts, deafening her to everything else. The air was spiced with the heavy scent of gunpowder and the coppery smell of blood.
Was she hit? No. She felt no pain, but something heavy lay on her.
She reached down, and her hands sank into soft fur.
Lucy!
The last thing she remembered was Lucy jumping in front of the barrel of Alvin Ray’s gun. Was Lucy hit?
The dog scrambled off her, and Jo looked her over quickly. She appeared to be fine. Then her eyes fell on what lay beyond Lucy. Kevin lay unmoving, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.
“Shit!” Jo raced to Kevin’s side and looked for the wound.
Her eyes darted around the room, catching Sam’s. He crouched in front of Alvin, his fingertips pressed to the postman’s throat. Their eyes locked. Sam shook his head slowly and reached for his phone.
Jo focused on Kevin as she heard Sam call 911. Kevin didn’t move. She pressed on the wound in his neck to stop the blood flow.
“Stay with me, buddy,” Jo said.
Kevin’s eyes fluttered, and his mouth moved as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. His hand faltered toward his pocket. “Don’t move. Just focus on staying alive.” Jo pressed on the wound harder, and Kevin’s eyes stopped fluttering.
How had he gotten hit? A whine from Lucy brought her memory back. Lucy had crashed through the window between Jo and Alvin. Kevin had jumped in front of the gun to save her and Lucy from getting hit.
As the ambulance sirens split the air, Sam rushed to Jo’s side, feeling for Kevin’s pulse. “It’s faint.”
“Oh no.” Harry stood above them.
Sam looked at him sharply. “I told you to stay at the station with Lucy.”
“I’m sorry, Sam. I just thought maybe I could help out. And now look what’s happened. I’ve ruined everything.”
Harry fell to his knees to help with the compression. He nudged Jo gently out of the way. “Press like this. I learned it while I was in the Marines.”
While they waited for the ambulance to arrive, Jo felt the weight of all that had happened. Everything they’d worked for had been for nothing. Alvin wouldn’t be able to tell them anything about Thorne, and if her guess was right, Thorne had been smart enough to not have any links linking him to the murder or to Alvin. They’d look, but she doubted they’d find anything.
Kevin was bleeding too rapidly.
As if sensing the gravity of the situation, Lucy had remained off to the side. She inched forward, resting her head on Kevin’s thigh, careful to stay out of their way. She whined and looked up at Kevin, her whiskey-brown eyes darting from his face to Jo’s.
Jo hoped Kevin wasn’t beyond feeling the comfort of Lucy’s head on his leg.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Three days later…
* * *
“I’m truly sorry about Officer Deckard.” Bev Hatch’s face was creased with genuine concern. “How’s his outlook?”
“Not good, I’m afraid.” Sam’s voice was scratchy. Jo glanced up at his haggard face. She guessed she didn’t look much better. Between processing paperwork, searching Alvin Ray’s place for evidence against Thorne, and late-night vigils at the hospital, neither of them had gotten much sleep.
“He’s still in a coma. Doctor said he lost a lot of blood and has minimal brain function.”
“You guys could have called me in,” Wyatt said from his desk at the other end of the room. He’d been standoffish since that night at Alvin Ray’s. Jo wasn’t exactly sure why.
“We didn’t think there would be any reason for backup. We were just going to talk to him,” Sam said.
“Yeah, I get that. But I keep thinking maybe having an extra officer would have prevented one of them from getting shot.” Wyatt glanced from Sam to Jo then sighed. “Can’t change that now, I guess.”
Jo got the impression he was studying them, trying to figure something out. She was overtired and probably reading more into it, but it almost seemed as if he sensed there was more to these cases than they were letting on. Rightly so, because there was more. Maybe Wyatt was more perceptive than she had originally thought.
Jo felt huge relief that they’d tied up both Tyler’s and Dupont’s murders. That meant they wouldn’t have to keep covering for the things they’d done. Even though those things were done with good intent, she still didn’t like hiding them.
Now there’d be nothing to keep secret. Well, except for Tyler’s box, but no one needed to know about that. They could keep that secret safe and still close his case now that everything had come out about Scott Elliott. His fingerprints in the car at Tyler’s murder scene and Alvin Ray’s confession of how they’d killed Tyler would allow them to close the case.
Everyone was silent for a moment before Bev spoke again. “At least we were able to get the evidence on Alvin. The cat hair was a match. We got it off one of the cat beds. Never did find the cat.”
“Probably got spooked by the gunshots and ran off. It’s a hollow victory, because I’m sure Ray could have given up more information on Thorne. At least we can prove he was delivering drugs, especially with these mail bins.” Sam gestured toward the plastic mail delivery bins they’d discovered in Ray’s basement. All of them had false bottoms. That was how he’d been delivering the drugs—a little bit of mail on the top, drugs on the bottom. It was quite ingenious. Ray was the only full-time postal employee, so there was no one to discover he’d doctored the bins.
“But we didn’t find anything that led to Thorne,” Jo said. After everything that had gone down, not one shred of evidence had surfaced.
“Thorne might be a lot of things, but he’s not stupid,” Sam said.
“I know you
guys think he’s linked to this,” Bev said. “And I have my suspicions as well. But all the evidence we’ve collected leads me to believe that it was Alvin Ray and Scott Elliott alone.”
“Of course it does,” Sam said.
“And now they’re both dead and can’t talk,” Jo added.
“Well, at least we figured out who killed Dupont and Richardson. And I have to say it’s been great working with you guys. I knew you were a good guy, Sam. I’m glad I was proved right.” Bev shook hands with all of them.
“Congratulating yourselves, I see,” Holden Joyce said as he strolled around the row of post office boxes.
“We caught the killer, so congratulations are in order,” Bev said.
“I heard. But what about this big drug ring? Was it just two guys?” Holden taunted them.
Sam leveled a look at him. “I think you know it was more than two guys.”
“So where’s all the evidence?” Holden asked.
“Unfortunately, our biggest lead is dead, and the head honcho is smarter than we thought,” Bev said.
Holden’s eyes narrowed at Sam. “Maybe. Or maybe the police helped obscure some of the evidence. My gut still tells me there’s more going on in this police station than meets the eye.” He glanced around at all of them, his eyes stopping when they came to Jo. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking away, but she sensed some sort of meaning behind his look. Was it a threat? He moved on to Wyatt, and she let out a breath. “But I’ll give you this: you did catch the killer.”
“And Tyler Richardson’s killer,” Bev added.
“Yeah, about the Richardson case. There’re still a few discrepancies. Like the fake Fallen Officers Fund.” Holden quirked a brow at Sam.
“Oh no. You can’t go there,” Bev said. “I investigated that, and my forensic accountants determined that Chief Mason gave that money to Tyler’s mother out of the kindness of his heart. We followed the money trail. He took it from his retirement fund. Nothing nefarious there. She’d have been too proud to accept it otherwise.”
Holden made a face. “That may be so, but there’s also the matter of the forged logbook. Our handwriting expert analyzed it. We knew it wasn’t Tyler’s from the start, but now we know whose it was.”
“Who?” Bev asked.
“Officer Harris.” Holden turned to Jo again. “You know you can get suspended for that.”
“No,” Sam cut in. “She did that on my orders, so I’ll be the one suspended.”
Jo shot up from her desk. “I did that on my own because I didn’t want Tyler to have a black mark against his name.”
“Surely you can understand that,” Bev said. “Or have you never cared about any of your fellow officers’ reputations?”
Holden shrugged. “Sure, but where do you draw the line? It’s kind of like harassing people who aren’t suspects—like Forest Duncan.”
Sam stared at him. “We weren’t harassing. We’ve got to follow every lead. It turns out Duncan didn’t have a thing to do with Dupont’s murder.”
Jo and Sam had talked to Forest Duncan the day after the shooting. They pretended Tyler had told them about how he was working with him to set him at ease. After assuring him that anything he told them wouldn’t leave their confidence and Thorne would never find out Forest had admitted that he’d been conducting surveillance on Thorne for Tyler. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any evidence against Thorne, only against Scott Elliott.
But Sam and Jo had learned that Tyler hadn’t betrayed their trust after all. He’d done what he had to do for his sister. Funny thing was, he wasn’t the one tipping off Thorne either. Of course, they couldn’t tell Holden or Bev or even Wyatt any of this.
“Don’t be such a tight-ass, Holden. Let it go,” Bev said.
Holden stared at her, his jaw tight. His eyes drifted to Jo again. “Maybe I will let this one go. I have bigger fish. Don’t get too comfortable; you haven’t seen the last of me.” He gave them one last pointed glare and left.
“Ominous,” Wyatt said.
“Overly dramatic,” Sam added.
“Can’t say I’d be sorry to see the last of him. I hope it’s an idle threat.” Bev stuffed her wide-brimmed hat on her head. “And on that note, I’ll be on my way. It’s been great working with you folks, but let’s hope a case like this one doesn’t necessitate working together again anytime soon.”
As Bev walked around the post office boxes, Harry entered.
“Harry, good seeing you again,” Bev said.
“You too, Sheriff.” Harry smiled at Bev then stepped aside for her to pass. As she continued toward the front door, Harry turned toward them, his smile fading. “I came to apologize again. I really messed up.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Harry,” Sam said. “The EMTs said the compression technique you used on Kevin helped save his life.”
“Wouldn’t have needed saving if I hadn’t messed up and gone there in the first place,” Harry muttered. “How is Kevin? Will he ...?” Harry let his voice trail off.
“Don’t know. He’s unresponsive right now, but we’re hoping for the best.”
Harry bent down to pet Lucy. “I’m glad you’re okay, girl.”
“Yep. She escaped with only a few scratches on her nose,” Jo said. “Her thick fur protected her.”
“Did you get the evidence you needed against Thorne?” Harry asked.
“Didn’t get that. But we’ll keep trying. Kevin would want us to.”
Harry nodded solemnly. “I came with an invitation for you, Sam.”
Sam’s left brow ticked up.
“Marnie Wilson wants to take you to lunch and congratulate you on arresting Dupont’s killer. She said she feels safer now knowing that when she becomes mayor, she’ll have a good man like you watching her back.”
Sam shook his head. “I didn’t do it by myself. Heck, I hardly did anything. It’s my team that deserves recognition.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure Marnie wouldn’t mind taking everyone to lunch.”
Wyatt stood from his desk. “You guys go ahead. I have to run out to Rita Hoelscher’s. Something about an altercation between Bitsy and Bullwinkle. You know how she is.” Wyatt rolled his eyes and headed toward the door.
“See if you can bring back some of that fruitcake!” Harry yelled after him. He turned to Jo. “Jo, what about you?”
The last thing she wanted to do was suffer through a lunch with Marnie Wilson. “No, you two go ahead. I’ll stay here and man the fort. Reese is in class all day, and Lucy would be lonely with no one here.”
“Well, Sam, I guess that leaves you and me.” Harry clapped Sam on the back.
Sam frowned at Jo, looking uncertain. Jo waved him on. “Go. Bring me back a burger or something.”
“Okay. Ketchup and mayo?” Sam asked.
“Yep.”
“Good. I have to make the most of this lunch,” Harry said as he walked with Sam toward the front door. “The wife has me on a short leash. She thinks I’m only having lunch with Marnie. She doesn’t want me hanging around here and getting into shootouts. Now she’s talking about going to Florida early this year, probably to get me away from here. It’s boring. Nothing but Rite Aids and grocery stores. Sitting on the beach all day, a man could grow old before his time down there.”
Jo watched them leave then turned to Lucy. “I guess it’s just you and me, girl.”
Lucy wagged her tail happily.
Jo glanced toward the town offices. Henley Jamison had been thrilled that they’d nailed Alvin Ray. Maybe too thrilled. He’d asked several times if they’d found evidence of any others in the drug ring and seemed quite pleased they hadn’t. Could he be working with Thorne, just as Dupont had? If he was, Jo had a feeling that Jamison would know exactly what he was getting into, unlike Dupont, who had gotten in over his head and been killed for it. Jamison would be in the thick of things. Or maybe he was just a pompous ass.
Either way, it might not be so bad having Marnie Wilson in the
mayor’s office.
Still, there was something about Wilson that set Jo’s nerves on edge. And it wasn’t the gleam in her eye when she looked at Sam or the way that look made Jo’s heart tug uncomfortably. Jo and Sam were just friends; she had no stake there. Why would she care if Marnie was interested in Sam?
Of course, Jo and Sam would still go after Thorne, no matter what. Thorne still had Mick’s knife, and even though Alvin was dead, Jo doubted that would slow the drug trade in Coos County long. Sam had already said that if Thorne thought that threatening him with that knife would keep Sam from trying to nail him, he had another think coming. Sam and Mick hadn’t done anything wrong twenty years ago, but Thorne had people in high places, and Jo wondered how he could twist the facts to make it look as though they had.
Jo’s thoughts turned to Tyler’s box, hidden at her house. The contents had answered a lot of their questions. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the photo of the beech trees. She’d compared them to the ones from her sister’s case, and they were a match. The police didn’t think the trees were any indication of where the serial killer had buried his victims, but Jo had other thoughts. And the breaks on the branches of these trees looked fairly fresh, not nearly thirty years old.
Even so, she had no idea where those trees were. Maybe Forest Duncan would be able to shed some light on that, but she’d have to make a special trip to his place to ask him without Sam knowing.
No, that wasn’t right. If she was going to investigate her sister’s case again, she’d have to come clean with Sam. She’d have to tell him everything, because he’d told her everything about the knife and what had happened with his cousin. She owed it to him. If she didn’t, it would drive a wedge between them, and their friendship would never recover. But that was only if she pursued the case.
She still wasn’t sure. Maybe dredging up those memories of her sister and her relentless, obsessive pursuit of that case wasn’t for the best. Sometimes you had to let things go.
Lucy trotted to the back door and sniffed vigorously at the crack in the bottom. She turned and looked at Jo, her lip curled.
