“Sage? Get Hollace’s supervisor on the line. Rex Weatherby. Have him meet me as soon as he can. I have questions.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”
Joel disconnected the call just as the crime scene supervisor came up to him and Max Jones, who’d joined him for an update.
“What is it, Lindy?”
She held out a slip of paper. Max took it first, holding the now-bagged evidence up to the setting light. “A sales receipt from the gas station in town. Dated today. And signed. It’s almost illegible, but—”
“We can confirm it with the gas station and security cams in the area.”
“I’m not sure that’s needed,” Max said, fury hard to miss in his tone. “Look at the signature.”
Joel did, his curses just as quiet as the federal agent’s, but just as potent.
“We need to go find him,” Joel told the other man. “But I don’t want to leave Gunderson alone at the station with just Knight for now. Knight can probably handle himself, but it’s Gunderson’s family that was targeted. He may be more than Knight can handle. Still waters run deep, after all.”
“Knight’s still with him. I’ll stay with him, too,” Jac Jones said quietly. She’d been speaking with the forensics team about the barn and the blood that had been found there. Joel highly suspected that blood would come back a match for Maggie Tyler. “I’ll make certain he stays in town.”
“Just buy us twenty minutes to get Hollace’s supervisor up to date. I don’t want Clint to know until we have Hollace in custody. Just to keep this from escalating.”
“Thanks. We’ll fill Weatherby in, then grab Knight from the station. If you and Sage will stay with Gunderson, that will help.”
“No problem,” Jac said.
“Thanks.” Joel looked at the other man next to him. “You feel like helping me round up a rogue officer?”
“In a heartbeat. I have a daughter of my own. I’d love to help do this for Gunderson. No doubt Knight will feel the same way.”
Joel nodded. Exactly what he’d hoped. He’d need some federal backing to arrest a WSP officer. And Knight and Jones looked like they could handle the task just fine.
51
Jim was being stupid. He should get in his car and go home. Pretend he’d been there with another headache or something. It was just a matter of time before people put things together. He’d done his best to buff out the scuff mark on his patrol car from the vet’s truck, but he may have missed a spot or two. He’d felt off since he’d realized what he’d done.
Instead, he was going to walk into the diner, get himself a meal, and play it casual-like. Like he hadn’t just shot up a man’s house. A man he’d known for ten years, worked beside for the first half of those ten.
He should be ashamed of himself.
The only thing he had to make him believe it wasn’t that big of a deal was the fact that Gunderson was a widower. There wouldn’t have been people in that house. And those agents in the vet’s truck—well, they’d had it coming. Strutting about the county like they were going to solve the unsolvable. The bigwigs here to save the good ole boys left behind.
He’d been stupid.
At least he hadn’t used his issued weapon. That would be too easily tracked. No, the pistol he’d used was one that had been handed down from his stepfather straight to him. And it had come to his stepfather from his own father. Jim doubted anyone alive would even know he had that gun.
He’d have to get rid of it. If he was caught and interrogated, and had that weapon on him, there would be questions. Especially after ballistics got ahold of it.
And those agents—what if they’d seen him?
Being at the diner was probably stupid, but Jim put his hand on the door just as a woman reached for it, her head turned away from him.
She bumped into his chest, and he breathed in her perfume. Floral. Pretty. Soft, silky hair brushed against his chin. Blond and falling nearly to her waist. She was almost enough to distract him from what he’d done. Another one of Flo Talley’s granddaughters, he thought. They sure did look a lot alike, though their coloring was different from one to the next.
He could just take her. Shove his gun in her side like Clive had that little Tyler girl and take her right out of the diner. That would keep the FBI off his case.
Or get him a bullet straight to the forehead from a sniper or something. Jim really wasn’t that stupid. Nope. That he wasn’t.
She looked up at him, shocking blue eyes staring into his. “Oh, I’m sorry, Officer…Hollace.” Her gaze darted to his nametag quickly. Her face pinched, and she paled. Right there in front of him.
“You ok? Can I help you inside? You sick?”
Her fingers tightened on the door, almost as if she was using it to hold herself up.
“Just…a…I’m prone to migraines. I may be coming down with one.” She gave a small shiver as she stared at him, like she could see right into his soul. His soul.
Like Helen could.
He wished he had a beer. But he didn’t think the diner served alcohol or anything like that. Iced tea might be the strongest he’d get there.
He risked doing something stupid and wrapped his hand around her elbow. She was skinny, barely any flesh there at all. “Come on; I’ll help you inside. Maybe a drink will help. You got family inside?”
“Yes. My sister and cousins should be around somewhere.” She was practically whimpering. Jim shoved aside his own problems for a moment.
He half thought she was about to pass out right in his arms. Or shake apart into a thousand pieces.
“Hollace!” A harsh voice said behind him. Jim recognized it immediately. He tightened his hand around the girl’s arm and turned, yanking the girl slightly.
To stare into Rex Weatherby’s furious face.
That fed, Agent Knight, stood at Weatherby’s side, another equally big agent next to him.
They’d come for him. He couldn’t escape three of them. It was over.
The girl fainted at his feet with a small, high-pitched cry.
52
Knight watched Miranda’s sister fall right at Jim Hollace’s feet, and he reacted. He reached for her—a millisecond after Rex Weatherby caught her before she could strike the concrete. Weatherby yanked her out of the way quickly.
Knight shifted his focus and pulled his service weapon and aimed at the officer. “Don’t move!”
Max was in the same position, to the left of where Knight stood.
What had Hollace done to Marin?
Hollace put up his hands, a confused look on his face. “What the hell, Weatherby? I didn’t do nothing to her. She said she had a migraine or something. Just fainted, I think.”
“You know we’re not here about this woman,” Weatherby snarled. There was no love lost between him and Hollace; Weatherby had made that clear when they’d identified Hollace as the main person of interest. Weatherby scooped Marin into his arms and stepped out of the way, leaving room for Max to secure Hollace’s weapon. “You have another weapon on you. A pistol. I’ve seen it before. Check his shoulder.”
Max worked quickly. Knight kept his weapon on Hollace, steady and sure. The man could charge at any moment. He wasn’t stupid. Max was in a precarious position until Hollace was secured, and they all knew it.
“What’s this about? I didn’t do anything wrong,” Hollace started shouting.
Max secured his hands behind him. “You know what you did. There was an innocent woman and baby there. A baby. What do you have to say about that?”
Knight could sense the crowd encircling them now. Miranda’s family were about to burst through the glass doors to the diner at any minute. There were diner patrons with their noses pressed right up to the glass.
He hated small towns.
“Let’s get him out of here before we have a riot.” Knight finally looked away as Max started reading Hollace his rights.
Weatherby stood there, a perplexed look on his face and an unconscious Talley woman in his arm
s. “No kidding. As soon as I decide what to do with her.”
Knight snorted, then gave a dark laugh. He understood that feeling, for sure. “Good luck. That’s Miranda Talley’s younger sister you’ve got right there. What did he do to her?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“Her family’s in there,” Knight told him. “Get her inside. They can do the rest.”
“I sure hope so. I think she’s coming around.”
“Yeah. Good luck with that one. That’s a Talley. From what I’ve seen—they’re trouble. In every possible way.”
Knight just left Weatherby there. He and Max would handle Hollace for the time being. Weatherby had his own hands full—and probably would for quite a while.
53
It was the spittle that grossed her out the most. Jac didn’t like to think that she was a wimp, but when it came to bodily fluids, she was a bit squeamish. Jim Hollace sat in the interview chair, hands cuffed to the table legs—the DCI interview rooms were a bit more sophisticated than the one at the Masterson County Sheriff’s Office—and just stared, a defeated expression on his unremarkable face. “Mr. Hollace—”
“Officer Hollace,” he practically spat at her. Jac resisted the urge to wipe her cheeks. She didn’t think any droplets had gotten on her, but it still made her skin crawl.
“Why don’t we settle on Jim?” the man next to her asked coolly. Sheriff Joel Masterson had that steady-as-a-rock thing going on for him. She’d met his wife before. When they’d been extras in the movie together. Phoebe had played the part of Jac’s younger sister. But Jac hadn’t interacted with the sheriff that much. “I don’t think you’ll be with the Wyoming State Police after what happened today, do you?”
The older man’s face flushed. “I—I—I—”
“You dropped a receipt in Clint Gunderson’s front yard. As well as your brass. And you were placed at the scene by two federal agents and eight witnesses,” the sheriff said. Now she heard the temper. “Did you know Clint’s infant daughter was in the barn with Maggie Tyler? The nanny? You hit the nanny, Jim.”
He paled. “I—”
Jac leaned forward. They knew he was the one who’d done it. Miranda had forwarded his photo to Carrie, who’d confirmed with Maggie Tyler that Jim was the one she’d seen. “You were seen, you were recognized, and your squad car was identified. There’s gray paint from the truck you scraped against fleeing the scene right there on your patrol vehicle. My brothers’ truck—the one I loaned to the FBI. The bullet casings you left behind are already on their way to the FBI crime lab in St. Louis—they’ll be expedited by our people. We have you…dead to rights. You hit Maggie Tyler, Jim. With a bullet. While she was holding a baby. If you don’t want this to go bad for you, you may want to start talking.”
“I…” His head bowed down, and she almost thought he sniffled. “I didn’t mean to hurt no one. I was just pissed at Gunderson, that’s all.”
“And you were drunk,” the sheriff said with disgust. “I can smell it on you still. Your file with IA is a mile thick, most of the problems alcohol-related.”
“I was getting help for that.”
“Until today?” Jac said. “Why?”
“I just was stupid.”
No kidding. Jac paused a moment, trying to determine just how to proceed.
“Why were you so angry at Clint Gunderson?” As far as she knew, Clint hadn’t done anything specific to Jim Hollace; at least, not since this case had started. There could be previous history—and that made sense—but she didn’t know what would have brought it to the surface now. “Does it have something to do with what happened to Helen Caudrell?”
He sent a baleful look in her direction. Jac just stared at him. Evaluating. She’d read through his file with the WSP. It wasn’t exactly interesting reading. Jim Hollace would never be winning any awards for his service—that was for sure. There were reprimands for everything from excessive use of force to being intoxicated on the job. The most remarkable part about his career was that he was still on the job, to be frank. “You know how this works, Jim. Be honest with us. It will be noted. You’re going to jail today. You’ll be booked, processed, and arraigned. It’ll be better for you if you’re cooperative.”
“How bad was the girl hurt? The nanny.”
“Not life-threatening. But she was very scared. There was blood all over her—and all over Clint Gunderson’s baby—when she was found. Miranda Talley, my colleague, found her. After you nearly sent her and another woman over a cliff. Fortunately, Miranda was able to get Maggie the help she needed. The baby was crying and screaming. Covered with blood. Can you imagine how terrified Maggie was, seeing the blood on the baby?” Jac kept her tone calm, even though her words were causing a visible reaction in the man across from her. “Why?”
“I just wasn’t thinking. I was driving around, thinking about what happened fourteen years ago. And—”
“Drinking.”
He gave a shameful nod. “Yeah. I had a beer or two. But not while driving. I’d pulled over for that. Sat next to the lake out on Highway 485 while I had a drink or two.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“That asshole, Gunderson.”
“What about him?”
“How he wasn’t a thing like his old man. Clive was a friend.”
The sheriff scowled. “That isn’t exactly a recommendation, Jim.”
“No. I suppose it’s not. How’s the girl he shot? She’s married one of your brothers now, hasn’t she?”
“Yes. She’s recovering. So you were thinking of Clint, and that made you decide to go shoot his home? I have to say, I’m not seeing the reasoning. “
“There wasn’t any thinking behind it. Just wanted to teach him a lesson, teach him to mind his own business.” He pressed his fingers to his forehead. Like he had a headache—or a hangover. “It was stupid. Shouldn’t have done it. Didn’t mean to scare the girl. Or shoot the dog. It die?”
Jac shook her head slightly. “No.”
There’d been two empty six-packs in the backseat of his patrol car. Jac winced. This was not going to reflect well on the Wyoming State Police publicly, that was for sure. “About Helen?”
He nodded, then paused like he was reconsidering.
“Jim, we’re going to find out anyway. You might as well save us some time and get some brownie points in your favor. Just tell us. Do you know something about what happened to Helen?” That was the team’s primary reason for being there—finding out who had killed Helen. But how much Jim was involved in that was still anyone’s guess.
“Help us out here. The Beise family? What do you know about them?” the sheriff asked.
Jac took up where he stopped. “We know you and Pauline were involved with one another. We know you and Luther are cousins. Did he know about the affair? Is her seventh child yours?”
Jim Hollace’s brown eyes closed and he leaned back. Defeated. “No. I don’t think he did. And that kid’s Luther’s. I’m pretty sure of it. It—I didn’t mean it to happen. Us sleeping together was Pauline’s idea. I was…I was twenty-one, and she was available. Wasn’t too bad looking; she wasn’t even forty yet. And she was fun. Could get me what I wanted, when I wanted it.”
“Didn’t you feel bad about sleeping with your cousin’s wife? In his house, I assume?” Jac asked, softly.
“Not at the time. I ain’t proud of it, but I did it.”
“How long were you involved with Pauline?” He’d been twenty-one when his tax records showed he’d moved to the Beise ranch’s address. Two years before the Beise family had disappeared. Had he carried on an affair with Pauline right under Luther’s nose for two years? She supposed it was possible—Luther had been gone long hours on the road, after all.
“Until they left.”
“What exactly did Pauline tell you about why they were leaving?”
He had been there that day; Jac would bet a month’s paycheck that Jim Hollace knew exactly what had happened
to Helen. Now, they just had to figure out how to get him to spill.
“That mom of hers. Helen kicked Pauline and Luther and the kids out into the streets.”
His gaze shifted. And that’s when Jac knew—Jim Hollace was lying through his teeth. “Jim? Who killed Helen?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“But you knew she was dead, didn’t you?” Jac asked softly.
She stared at him, not looking away. Until he finally nodded.
“Did you bury her, Jim?” She didn’t know what gave her the hunch that she was going on, but she had one.
He nodded, then stopped. Shook his head no. Then finally…he nodded one more time.
“Why?”
“Because Pauline told me to, that’s why. Helen’s been haunting me ever since.”
54
Clint let out a harsh curse when he saw Jim Hollace being led away in cuffs. Hollace looked right at him. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know that girl and your baby were there!”
Only the hard hands that landed on his shoulders kept Clint from killing him. Right there in the middle of the station. Only the knowledge that there was a baby girl who needed him, and another baby on the way who deserved to have a chance, and Maggie… what he owed Maggie…only they kept him from doing something ridiculously stupid. No matter how hard it was.
“Keep your cool, Gunderson,” Knight said. “Don’t screw things up for yourself now.”
The man was as cold as an iceberg. “I’m not stupid.”
“No, you’re not. Hollace confessed to the shooting. He got drunk and wanted to teach you a lesson,” Weatherby said bluntly.
“He also confessed to burying the body of Helen Caudrell. He’s going away for a long time,” Knight said, reading from a text from one of the other feds.
“What did he do to Miranda’s sister?” Clint had heard rumors Hollace had tried to take one of Miranda’s sisters hostage. He didn’t know if she knew that or not, yet. “Which one, and is she ok?”
Buried Secrets: PAVAD: FBI Case File #0005 (PAVAD: FBI Case Files) Page 19
