by Robin Mahle
“I’m sorry to hear that. I know it puts them under a lot of stress. Not to be rude and change the subject, but I need another favor.”
“Okay.” Dillon turned to her partner. “Hey, Ethan.”
“Hey, Dillon. Good to see you.” He offered his hand.
“What’s going on now? Must have to do with the girl,” Dillon said.
“It does.”
“Like I said before, I don’t have access to a lot, and what I gave you…”
“I know, Dillon. What you’ve done so far has been really helpful, but I was hoping you could do something else for me.” She revealed a sheepish grin.
“And that would be?”
“Justin Rehnquist, Chloe’s friend, and who I believe might have been the last person to see her alive. Can you look into him for me? They graduated the same year. I just need to see his records. I want to know if he was ever written up or suspended for any sort of violence. Any disruptions, really.”
Dillon regarded her with caution. “Don’t tell me you suspect he’s the killer?”
“Can’t rule it out. I’ve got a few ideas and I need to sort through them before I take anything to Ward. We’ve got a storm coming, Dillon. And I think it could be worse than before.”
“If it’s that important, I’ll look into him.” He eyed the both of them. “Are you two in danger?”
“I think a lot of people might be in danger,” she replied. “But I don’t know when or how to stop it.”
17
The delivery of the feed belts for the manufacturing plant had arrived and Kilroy “Roy” Bayliss ensured their installation. There had been plenty of setbacks in the past week and it was his job to get everything back on track. Now there were even bigger problems coming out of Indianapolis, problems that would take the project offline were certain conclusions drawn.
Bayliss knew what needed to be done now in order to keep those conclusions from forming in the first place. He turned on his heel and marched back to his office. He yanked open the filing cabinet drawer and began pulling the files and dropped them onto his desk. From the corner of his eye, he noticed several workers eyeing his actions. But with one swift glance back, they’d hastily returned to their tasks, forgetting what they’d seen.
With several files in his hands, Bayliss approached the large shredder that sat in the corner of his office. By the end of this afternoon, there would be nothing left that would connect Great Grains manufacturing with any of its so-called “subcontractors,” which had really been nothing more than shell companies that funneled back into the parent organization. Neither would there be left any trace of the use of the trucking companies that hauled the goods across the border, which would expose them to the real money-making operation. He was no stranger to the drill and had been through this plenty of times before. Bayliss was to take care of not only the paper trail, but the electronic trail as well.
The school grounds were clear. The kids and staff had all gone home, with the exception of Dillon Thompson, the brother of a cop who had been embroiled in a murder investigation. He would have to be stealthy because if anyone caught wind of what he was doing, getting fired would be the least of his problems. What he was doing was illegal. No warrant. No probable cause. He was a civilian, which made this a theft, but he wouldn’t refuse Riley. Not ever. And if he could dig up something that might help solve the murder of a former student, then he should. Rule of law be damned.
Once again, he found himself inside the Records Department. The door was unlocked, the lights were on. The cleaning staff usually locked up after they were finished, but they usually didn’t clean the administration office until the very last. So Dillon had at least forty-five minutes before they would appear. He didn’t know why Riley had the sudden interest in this kid, but it wasn’t wise to discount her intuition.
He searched through the files, most of which contained current students, but there was a whole section of files in which the administration maintained older student records, only sending them to archives after three years. And Rehnquist graduated two years ago, along with Chloe Dawson.
“Mr. Thompson?”
Dillon spun around. “Oh. Hi.”
“What are you doing in here?”
“I was—um—looking for an old student file. I thought it might still be here, but I can’t seem to find it.”
“Well, who are you looking for? Did you fill out the proper request forms?” The woman who’d appeared from nowhere now stood with her hands on her hips, gazing at him with suspicion.
“You know what? I didn’t send in the form, but I was just about to. You see, I was grading some essays and I came across one that sounded awfully familiar and so I came back here to search the name of the student who I believe might have written the original essay.”
“Oh my. That is a problem. But you mustn’t forget that those records can only be accessed after the forms are approved.”
“Yes. You’re right. Who knows how long that might take, though, right?” He tried to appear casual, resting his arm atop the cabinet.
She walked inside. “I can show you where the forms are and we can get your request in tonight.”
“You’re too kind, Monica. I appreciate it, but I’ll come by in the morning and fill it out. No point in keeping either of us here any longer than necessary.”
“Okay. If you’re sure. I don’t mind. I only came back because I forgot my sweater and it’s getting chilly out.”
“Sure. Sure, but thanks. I’ll plan on stopping in tomorrow.” Dillon started toward the door. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Anytime.”
He tried to keep measured steps, but his pace quickened as he returned to his classroom. Once inside, he collapsed onto his chair. “For crying out loud.” Not only did he not get anything on the Rehnquist kid, but he was also nearly caught red-handed. Although, he had to admit, his reasoning was sound. Perhaps that was what would have saved him too if he had been caught with the file. Still, he had nothing to give to Riley because making another attempt was out of the question. He didn’t have the strong stomach she did. Maybe there was another way he could help.
Dillon stood up and recaptured his composure. What Riley was looking for was a history on the kid. Had he been punished for any display of violence against another student or teacher? Had he been suspended, expelled, or anything of that nature? And if he had, why? Dillion assumed this pertained to Chloe Dawson and that Riley must have suspected Rehnquist could be involved in her death. So where else could Dillon look for this information?
Maybe the time had come for him to step up for Riley as she had for him on many occasions. It was she who kept him on the straight and narrow after their parents split. He’d already been prone to hanging out with the wrong crowd, smoking pot on the steps of abandoned homes, coming home after curfew because he and his friends were drinking beers behind the Casey’s. In fact, the more he considered it, the more he realized if it hadn’t been for Riley, he wouldn’t have become a teacher. No one ever believed he would, except for her.
So he would go back to that building, talk to Monica—hell, flirt with her if he had to—but get that file because if this kid did have something to do with Chloe’s death, he didn’t want to be the one who let him slip through the cracks.
Dillon started back toward the office, more determined than before. If Monica was gone, the door could already be locked, assuming janitorial staff hadn’t yet been there. And she was only there to pick up her sweater. But he needed to focus on the fact that he could still obtain access because Riley was short on time. She said a storm was coming and that meant bad things were coming.
The building was just ahead and Dillon spotted the light on inside. It was either Monica or the cleaners. Either way, it wasn’t too late to get in. He reached the door and turned the handle. “Hey, Monica, I was hoping you’d still be here.” Dillon closed the door behind him.
“You’re back,” she said. “I thought I’d just
check on a few things before leaving. You know how it goes. Tough to leave the job behind sometimes. So did you want me to go ahead and help you with that form?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could help me expedite things a little.”
“Okay. I’m not sure how I can do that, but I’ll try.” Monica appeared pleased by his request.
“Look, I’m working on something with my sister.”
“Officer Thompson?”
“That’s right. She asked me to check on the file of a kid who used to attend here. Justin Rehnquist. Now she didn’t want anyone to know and that was the reason I said what I said. It’s imperative to the investigation that this remain hush-hush.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Mr. Thompson.”
“You can call me Dillon. We are colleagues.”
“Of course, Dillon. Student records are privileged information. I can’t just hand something over to you without a form. You know that. And if it’s your sister, well, that adds another dimension to the situation, doesn’t it? But she can make the request.”
Dillon walked closer to her. “Monica, this is really important. You know Riley wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t. She’s working on a case. It’s on the q-t for right now. But if you could do me this favor, I know it would mean a lot not only to me, but to Riley too. I just want to see if the kid was ever written up for anything. That’s it. I don’t care about his transcripts, absences, standardized tests grades. Just disciplinary action.”
“Well, I guess if that’s all it is. That should be okay.”
“I sure would appreciate it and I know my sister would too.”
Monica stood from her desk. “You say Rehnquist?”
“That’s right. He graduated two years ago.”
She opened the files and began to search for the name. “Hang on. Okay, here he is.” With the file in her hand, she laid it on the desk. “The discipline records are kept on the right-hand side.” She began to flip through the manila folder until the section appeared. “Here we go.”
Dillon moved closer, standing squarely inside her personal space. He was a handsome man, which many of the female teachers had decreed. He was, of course, happily married, but in this instance, it was okay to use what he had to get what he needed. “This is perfect. Can I take a look?” He held her gaze.
“Of course.”
Dillon scanned the reports, noting minor infractions, just like any other high-schooler. Nothing major. “Wait a minute. This one says he was given a week’s detention for striking a boy in the lunchroom.” He continued reading with Monica peering at the same file.
“Yes. According to the report, he did it in defense of a girl.”
“Chloe Dawson.” He eyed her. “Thank you. I don’t see anything else in here that might help Riley, but this might.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Monica, I can’t thank you enough for helping me, for helping my sister with her investigation. Now, can I trust you to keep this between us?”
“Yes, of course, Dillon. Anything I can do to help local law enforcement. Are you sure there’s nothing else?”
“This is absolutely perfect. You have a good evening, Monica. And I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.” With a flirtatious smile, Dillon left.
The afternoon was giving way to evening as the sun fell behind the police station. Riley returned with Ethan in tow.
Ethan pushed through the door and eyed Jacob. “What’s he still doing here? I thought you set him up for the night?”
“I brought this problem here. I’m responsible for fixing it,” Jacob replied.
Ethan laughed. “Really? Wow. I knew you were arrogant, but assuming this all revolves around you is something else.”
“Ethan, what’s wrong with you?” Riley eyed him. “He knows more about these people than we do. And while I’ll agree he’s not the sole person responsible for this, I won’t reject his help and neither should you.”
“Sorry, Riley. It’s just…”
“Forget it, man,” Jacob said to him. “It’s fine. I understand. Everyone knows how you feel about Riley, so don’t worry about it.”
“For God’s sake, can we stop now?” Riley’s irritation turned to anger. “The last thing we need is you two pissing on each other. Where’s the captain?”
Ethan kept his sights on Dillon but replied, “Looks like he’s in his office.”
Without another word, Riley continued to the captain’s office and leaned inside the doorway. “Hey, Cap. What’s the word on our reinforcements?”
He raised his index finger and continued the call. “Great. Thank you. We’ll see you soon.” He ended the call. “That was Pryce. He’s got a team that’ll be heading our way inside the hour. Should put them here by dark. We can figure out a plan of action on their arrival. I heard something going on out there. Everything okay?”
“It’s nothing. So there’s nothing we can do in the interim?”
“There’s not a chance in hell our small team is going to go down to the plant, guns blazing, and take on these fellas. We don’t know if they’re here yet. And we don’t know how many of them there will be. So, yeah, we’re going to sit tight until IMPD gets here. If that’s okay with you?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I’m just anxious.”
“We all are, Riley, but we need to be methodical about this. We have to cover all our bases to be sure no one gets hurt. My gut tells me they’ll put out feelers for Jacob first, maybe split up their team. Some heading to the plant and then others into town. So there’s a decent shot we’ll spot them out and about. They have no idea we’re getting help from the big boys. We need to keep it that way.”
“Jacob’s still here.”
“You need to consider getting him in place for the night.”
“I’ll take him later, before IMPD gets here. There was something else I wanted to run by you.” She moved in to sit down. “I asked Dillon to check into Justin Rehnquist for me. Ethan and I were going to head down to speak to him again, but I wanted to get more information about him first.”
“You can’t keep running to your brother. You’ll either put him in danger or you’ll cost him his job.”
“I know, and after this, it won’t happen again. I just need to know more about this kid.”
“Look, Riley, we’ve got about a dozen theories about what happened to Chloe and half a dozen possible suspects. This kid—you’d better be sure about because I don’t see it. Find me something more and I’ll let you run on it. In the meantime, I’ve got Abrams and Decker staking out the roads leading to the plant. If they spot something suspicious, they’ll let me know.”
Riley’s cell phone rang. “It’s Dillon.”
“Better take it, then.”
“Dillon, hi. What’d you find?” She listened to him relay the story along with bringing to her attention that he could have been fired were it not for his quick thinking. “I was hoping for more than that, but it does lend credence to the idea that he tried to protect her. I have to assume he loved her too, but she probably didn’t know it.” She nodded. “Thanks, Dillon. I’m sorry you had to go through this, but it helps. And I won’t ask again. I’ll talk to you later.” She ended the call and looked at Ward. “Dillon says Justin was given a week’s detention for hitting a guy in defense of Chloe.”
“That’s it?” Ward replied.
“I know you think I’m off base here, but she spoke to me. She told me I had to stop him. I just need a little more time. I’ll get you something.”
“Fine. Run on it, but remember, we’ve got a much more pressing problem,” Ward said.
“Bringing down the mob?”
“You got it, kid.”
Justin Rehnquist lived in a one-bedroom apartment alone. He had always been sort of a loner, even back in school, which was why it was so hard to believe that Chloe Dawson had wanted to be his friend. She wasn’t the most popular girl in school, but she was pretty, smart, and had a small group of friends, to which he had also belonged. Now he waited for a
man who had entrapped him. He thought he was helping Chloe when all he was really doing was letting this guy get close to her.
He had no place to go. There was no running from people like them. If only he’d known, he never would have agreed to get her there. It was all so messed up now. The girl he loved was gone and it had been his fault.
18
On the once tranquil road that led to the station house, several patrol cars appeared. Ethan Pruitt caught sight of the vehicles as he stood at Riley’s desk. “Hey, they’re here.”
“It’s about time reinforcements arrived.” Riley peered through the window and noted the cars pulling into the lot. “It would’ve been nice if they could’ve made less of a spectacle of themselves. The entire town will be talking by now.”
Ward appeared from his office. “I see the cavalry’s arrived.”
“Yes, sir,” Riley added.
“These boys are the big league. I hope they have a plan of attack ready.” Ward stood at the entrance and opened the door. “We sure are glad to see you fellas.”
“You must be Captain Daniel Ward? I’m Lieutenant Moody. Captain Pryce sent us your way to help end this situation that seems to have spilled over into your peaceful community.”
“You are most welcome.” He held the door for the officers. “Come in, find a place to park it, and we’ll get started.”
Half a dozen officers arrived in full tactical gear and Riley was picking up a troubling feeling, like maybe this had just gone from bad to worse. These guys were here to help, and while that was all well and good, they also looked like their orders were shoot to kill. She wasn’t opposed to taking drastic measures when necessary, but this felt like overkill. The storm was building.
“I’ll start off by introducing my staff.” Ward returned to the bullpen. “This is Officer Riley Thompson, Officer Ethan Pruitt, and Jacob Biggs. He was personally involved with the men we’re after. I have two officers in the field staking out the area leading to the plant in search of our out-of-town guests.”
