by T. L. Haddix
Everyone was staring at her, astonished. Jackie’s dislike of cursing was well-known, and Maria had often heard her children teasing one another about having to pay the infamous Swear Jar.
Ethan shook his head, and a tiny smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you curse. And we’ll be fine, thanks.”
Gordon tilted his head, and his gaze narrowed as he looked at Ethan and Beth. “That’s an awfully drastic reaction to a stupid post a blind man could see through. I thought you were close to your family?”
“So did we,” Beth said. “At least Stella and James. Lina’s never been my biggest fan. She’s just hidden it well until now.”
“Because of prom?” Annie asked.
“Yep.” Seeing the incredulous looks, Beth explained, “She thinks I stole her boyfriend in high school.”
“You aren’t serious?” Gordon’s face reflected his astonishment. “High school?”
“She’s very serious,” Annie said. “Lina was the head cheerleader her senior year, and Beth was a sophomore. Lina’s boyfriend broke up with her, and a week later, he asked Beth to the prom.” When all the men seemed confused, she rolled her eyes. “Lina’s senior prom. Hello?”
Chase was clearly struggling to understand. “And she’s held a grudge for what, ten years now?”
“Yes. Ten years,” Beth confirmed. “At least, that’s the only thing I can figure.”
Ethan drew in a sharp breath. “I’ll be damned. I’ll bet she blames you for getting pregnant.” As he spoke, he pulled out his wallet and handed Jackie a dollar for the Swear Jar. “Lina got pregnant the night of prom. That’s why she and Randy got married so quickly after graduation. If she’d broken up with her boyfriend shortly before that, I’ll bet she never intended Randy to be her date that night.”
Beth winced. “Ouch. I didn’t realize that.”
“It would certainly explain her bitterness,” Chase said.
“Yes, but it doesn’t explain your parents’ reactions,” Jackie said. “I’ll call Stella later this week, try to get to the bottom of things. If the two of you don’t mind, that is.”
“I’d appreciate the effort, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up that it will change things, Jackie,” Ethan said.
“On a positive note, that malicious post about Beth and Raven has finally been removed.” Maria took a sip of her tea, then saluted Chase. “Amazing what a letter from an irate attorney can accomplish.”
“The hosting provider agreed to leave the rest of the forum intact, though,” Chase said. “The owner, who they’re protecting, will be notified via email as to the circumstances regarding that particular post’s removal. We figured that the extortionist wouldn’t expect Beth to just sit back and take the punch. If she didn’t respond, especially given her background, it might look suspicious.”
“That’s solid reasoning,” Gordon said. “Extortionists tend to be narcissistic, so if nothing else happens to deter him, this guy might get cocky and slip up.”
“So what do we do to catch this person?” Beth asked. “Obviously, he’s wreaking havoc all over the place.”
“If it were me, I’d narrow things down to a common point or two,” Gordon said. “I’d start with who would be in the position to have the necessary knowledge to pull this off.”
“We’ve tried that,” Wyatt told him. “There doesn’t appear to be any one thing the victims all have in common, other than the fact that they can all pay the demand if need be.”
Gordon frowned. “And the financial institutions, accountants, they don’t match?”
Wyatt shook his head. “No. Also, the only oddity that stands out is that Richard is the only person out of five who has gotten a letter where the accusation hasn’t been valid.”
Beth shifted in her seat so that her side rested against Ethan. “We all seem to keep calling this person ‘he’ and ‘him.’ Is that detrimental to the investigation, pigeonholing the suspect like that?”
“It’s human nature,” Gordon said. “Just keep in mind the possibility that it could be a woman, and you all will be fine.”
“You say ‘you all,’ Gordon, but I’m hoping you’ll lend us your expertise on this,” Wyatt said. “I know you don’t carry a badge anymore, but we could really use your help.”
“Of course. I’ll do whatever I can.”
“What does your gut tell you?” Chase asked.
Gordon picked up his knife and turned it end over end as he gathered his thoughts. “Well, like I said, he’s probably a narcissist. There’s obviously no compunction about using people’s secrets against them, and he seems to have an inside source for obtaining those secrets.” He paused when Jackie came back into the room with the tray of cookies and a pumpkin pie.
When his eyes lit up and he straightened in his chair, everyone laughed.
“You’re as bad as Chase with the sweet tooth,” Beth told him.
Gordon agreed with a grin that showed off his dimples. “Since I’ve moved here, I’ve gained ten pounds between Jackie’s cooking and Kathryn’s.”
Maria glanced at Stacy when he mentioned the other woman. Kathryn had recently become a partner in the Brown Bag, and she and Gordon had been friends for years. Though Stacy hid it well, Maria could tell her friend was uncomfortable with the mention of the curvaceous redhead.
“So what’s the extortionist’s objective here? Is it getting money, or is it something else entirely?” Ethan asked as he accepted a piece of pie.
“What’s the tone of the letters? Are they taunting, or are they straightforward demands?” Gordon asked.
“Oh, they’re very taunting,” Wyatt said. He stretched and put his arm around Maria, and she leaned against him. “They almost have a… tattletale attitude, if that makes sense. Like someone who would tell you ‘I told you so.’”
Rubbing a hand over his beard, Gordon shrugged. “This is just a guess, based on what’s been said here. The taunting letters, the inflammatory forum, for me they add up to create a picture of someone who has a deep-seated scorn or hatred for the people he’s blackmailing. Sure, the money’s part of it, but the vengeance is what drives him.”
“Okay, that makes sense,” Jason said. “But why did Dad get a letter if what he’s accused of isn’t true?”
“Either because the extortionist believes it’s true, or because he has a personal vendetta.” Gordon turned to Richard. “Is there anyone you can think of who resents you that much? Maybe a disgruntled employee or patient?”
“No. I mean, sure, I’ve had patients who’ve gotten upset over the years, but never anyone who stands out as being angry enough to do this. Honestly, if it hadn’t happened to other people, I’d tend to write it off as a really bad prank.”
“This person could be using you to throw us off,” Wyatt said. “I doubt it’s because they have the wrong information. Whoever is doing this, they’re too precise in hitting their targets. Too cautious. No, I’d put my money on someone with a grudge.”
Beth rested her arms on the table and leaned forward. “So where’s he getting his information? Unless this guy slips up, he’s going to be next to impossible to catch. The only way to do damage control, too, is to catch him before he has the chance to spread his tales. Even if he’s paid off, there’s nothing guaranteeing he won’t just release the secrets anyhow.”
“She’s right,” Ethan said. “So who would have access to all these secrets? It comes back to that.”
“That’s the question of the week,” Wyatt said. “Tomorrow, I want you and Stacy to go back to the victims and grill them again. There’s a common thread; we just have to find it. Jason, I’m pulling you off patrol so you can sit down with Maria and go over all the incidents the forum postings seem to have spurred. Once that’s done, start interviewing the people involved. Find out who knew what they were fighting about before the storm broke.”
“Yes, sir. Glad to do it.”
“Good,” Wyatt said. “Ethan can he
lp you if you need it. If anyone thinks of anything else that might help, and I mean anything at all, bring it to Maria. She’s compiling everything into a searchable database.”
“How about an extra set of eyes going over what you already have?” Gordon asked.
Maria looked at Wyatt. “I could use him.”
“Okay, then. We’ll have to formalize it, make you a consultant. Come in tomorrow morning, and I’ll get you started on that.”
“Sounds good.”
Wyatt sighed. “One way or another, we’re going to track this guy down. I just hope we can do it sooner rather than later.”
Chapter Twenty Four
Monday found Wyatt in an unsettled mood. Though he had enjoyed most of the weekend, having spent it with Maria, his happiness was overshadowed by his anger and concern about the extortionist. He’d been particularly upset by the damage done to Ethan’s relationship with his family. Jason’s disappointment also weighed heavily on his mind. Both were things he’d discussed with Maria yesterday evening as they walked around his property.
“Julie and I couldn’t have children, and over the years, I’ve ‘collected’ young people who mean a lot to me, like Ethan and Jason. And Stacy. I don’t want to let them down, and I certainly don’t want to see them hurt. Ethan? That boy’s like a son to me, Maria. If I could get my hands around the neck of the bastard who’s doing this…” He was so angry he couldn’t continue.
She stopped him, moving to stand in front of him. “You are not responsible for this, Wyatt Dixon. You have to stop blaming yourself. No one else does.”
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and stared at her. “It isn’t that simple.”
Her smile was winsome. “I know, but you have to try. We’ll figure this thing out. Now, how about a different subject?”
Wyatt groaned and pulled her into his arms. “I’m being a bear, aren’t I?”
“You’re entitled. I just don’t want to see you get lost in worrying about it.”
Coaxed into a better mood despite himself, he kissed her. After several long, breathless minutes, she pulled back and resumed walking, her arm linked with his.
“So did you want kids?” she asked.
“Yeah, I did. I always thought I’d have a houseful, but it didn’t turn out that way. What about you?”
She shrugged. “When I was younger, no. I didn’t think I’d ever want kids, especially not after the way I grew up. My relationship with my mother kind of soured me on the whole thing. But the last few years, especially after Georgia had Cody, I… I don’t know. I think I’d love being a mother.” Her laugh was self-deprecating. “Whether I’d be a good mother or not, well, that’s up for debate.”
Wyatt stopped her. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d be an excellent mother.”
“I… it’s worth a lot,” she stammered.
The unspoken question of whether she would consider having his children or not seemed to hover in the air between them, and for several seconds, they just stared at each other in the deepening twilight. A rustling sound in the field next to where they were walking broke the tension, and they turned to watch a deer dart off into the underbrush.
“We’d better head back to the house,” Wyatt said. “It’s going to be too cold to stay out her much longer.”
For the rest of the evening, he managed to focus his mind away from the extortionist. When he took Maria home late Sunday night, he hadn’t wanted to leave, but understood she wasn’t ready to take their relationship into true intimacy so soon.
After he left her condo, he drove around for over an hour, just looking at the county he’d sworn to serve and protect years ago. The thought that he might lose everything he’d worked for because of the selfishness of his late wife was infuriating, and sobering. He knew she wasn’t solely to blame, that he had played a part, but the realization that Julie might have vengeance from beyond the grave, finally taking away the job she’d hated with so much passion, didn’t endear her memory to him.
Determined not to let her win, especially at the hands of a vicious extortionist, he’d gone into the office Monday morning, resolving to get to the bottom of the harassment. He had a full schedule, meetings throughout the morning and early afternoon. Thinking about something Maria had said, he got up and went to Gretchen’s desk. “Can you get in touch with Jason Hudson and have him meet me this afternoon at the Brown Bag? I should be finished with the county commissioners by three or so. He’s helping Maria with something this morning.”
She gave a little salute. “Will do, Sheriff.”
“Thanks.” He’d no sooner turned to go back into his office than the phone rang and Gretchen stopped him.
“It’s Neva. She says it’s important.”
Taking the receiver, he glanced at the clock. He had seven minutes before his meeting with the jailer started. “What’s going on, Neva?”
“There is a gentleman here who is hell-bound determined to speak to you, Wyatt.”
He frowned. Neva was nearly unflappable, having ridden the front desk in the department for nearly forty years. For her to be so sarcastic, he knew something was wrong.
“Who is it?”
“Doug Whitaker. Corrine’s boy.”
The image of the pimple-faced, surly teenager he’d clashed with well over twenty years ago popped into his mind, and he bit back an oath. “I’ll be right down.” Handing the phone back to Gretchen, he said, “Hopefully, I’ll be back before nine, but can you call Dewey and let him know that I might be held up a few minutes? Just in case?”
That taken care of, he took the stairs to the first floor and made his way to the front office, where a balding, slightly pudgy man sat, impatiently waiting. When Wyatt walked in from the bullpen, he jumped to his feet and adjusted the glasses that had slid down his nose.
“Sheriff, I need to talk to you. As a tax-paying citizen of this county, I do not appreciate the difficulties I have endured these past minutes, attempting to get this… this woman…” He pointed at Neva. “…to call you down here.”
Neva harrumphed and rolled her eyes.
Wyatt sent her a quelling look, then turned back to the irate man. “Mr. Whitaker, I’ll be glad to speak with you for a few minutes. What can I help you with?”
With another pointed look at Neva, Whitaker sneered. The move pinched the man’s mouth, and Wyatt couldn’t help but think of someone who’d sucked on a particularly sour lemon. He smoothed a hand over his own mouth to hide his amusement as the other man spoke.
“It is of a highly sensitive and personal nature. I would appreciate it if we could go somewhere less public to discuss the matter.”
Cursing to himself, Wyatt realized it probably wasn’t going to be a short visit. “Of course. We’ll use one of the conference rooms. If you’ll follow me?” He led the man down the hall to the smallest conference room. Once Whitaker had sat down, he closed the door and joined him at the table.
“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
The last thing Wyatt expected was for the fussy man to pull a white envelope out of the pocket of his coat. With precise movements, Whitaker slid the missive across the table.
“I received that vile and insulting thing this morning. Go ahead, open it,” he said when Wyatt hesitated.
His senses humming, Wyatt used an ink pen to slide the letter out of its envelope. He managed, just barely, to hold his temper in check as he read its contents. As he’d feared, the envelope indeed contained another extortion letter. It accused Whitaker of embezzling money from his clients.
“What is it that you do, Doug?”
The man’s face grew even more pinched, as though he was affronted that Wyatt had even had to ask. “I’m a forensic accountant, Sheriff. I get called in to perform internal audits when companies need to get their books in order.”
Wyatt sat back in his chair, studying the other man. “How long have you been back in Leroy? I thought you were still in Florida with your moth
er.”
“I’ve been back just over a year now. What does that have to do with this letter?”
“It helps establish a history.” Pushing his chair back, Wyatt stood. “I need to excuse myself for a minute and call in one of my detectives. Can I get you something? Water, coffee?”
Whitaker unbent enough to nod. “Coffee would be acceptable. Three sugars, not two and not four. No artificial creamer, either. Fresh cream.”
It took Wyatt a few seconds to find an answer that wouldn’t result in a complaint being filed against him. “I’ll see what I can do.” Excusing himself, he left the room, closing the door behind him with a little more force than was necessary.
With annoyed strides, he headed into the bullpen and looked around, hands on hips. Spying Ethan at the coffeepot, he took a deep breath and moved to stand beside the younger man, who was watching a new pot brew. When the detective looked up at his approach, Wyatt was surprised to see a scowl on his face.
“Ethan?”
“I’ve not had a decent cup of coffee in over a week. I thought Beth was the caffeine addict. Apparently, I was mistaken.”
Despite the fact that they had another letter, Wyatt felt his lips twitch. His humor was short-lived, however. “Well, I’m afraid I’m about to make your day a little worse. We’ve got another one. Doug Whitaker is in conference room A,” he said as Ethan poured a mug of the fresh brew. Edging him aside, Wyatt filled a disposable cup with coffee and, with deliberation, grabbed four packets of sugar. “I want you to handle this. I know you have a lot on your plate right now.”
Ethan shrugged. “It is what it is. You seem agitated, though. Everything okay, obvious situation aside?”
Glancing around to make sure they weren’t overheard, Wyatt confessed, “I don’t like Whitaker. I know I’m supposed to present a fair and balanced demeanor, but he was an annoying little punk when he was a kid. We clashed quite seriously when he was a teenager. I’ve never been his favorite person, and from what I’ve seen, he hasn’t improved with age. And if you dare tell anyone I said that, I’ll put you on latrine duty.”
