Shadow of Vengeance

by Kristine Mason

  A chill swept through her. Her brother had come close to being a victim of more than just a brutal beating.

  “The rest of Baker’s clothes had traces of dog hair, which matches the hair also found on your brother’s clothes. Other than that, nothing.”

  Damn it. “And the note left on Baker?”

  “This is interesting. Jake gave our lab every Hell Week note, dating back to the first disappearance, along with the ones left on your brother and Baker. The handwriting analyst said the writing on the Baker note was a good match to the others, but she concluded that a different person wrote it.”

  “The accomplice.”

  Marty released a sigh. “Yeah, I’m starting to buy into your theory. Only, I’m wondering why the accomplice wrote it. This killer has been doing this for a long time, without any slipups. Why let the accomplice write the note?”

  “Maybe he didn’t know she did.”

  “Or maybe Baker’s death isn’t related to Hell Week at all,” Marty suggested. “If Baker’s tox screen came back positive for Rohypnol—”

  “But mineral powder—the same exact cosmetic mineral powder—was found on both Sean’s and Bill’s clothes,” she argued. “That’s not a coincidence.”

  He blew out another breath. “True. But without the drug connection, as it stands, Baker looks like he could have also been an accomplice and the killer wanted to get rid of him.”

  While she knew how Bill’s death, and how the circumstances surrounding the boy’s initial kidnapping looked on paper, she firmly believed Bill was an innocent victim. She didn’t see the point in arguing with Marty, though. She was going with her gut instinct, and he was basing his assessment on forensic evidence.

  A message showed up in her inbox. Finally, Lynch pulled through and sent her the security footage from last Saturday. After thanking Marty for the information, she hung up the phone and opened the file.

  She quickly cued the footage to three o’clock. Joy had said that Bill called her around four and told her about Kaylie making plans for lunch the next day. Bill’s shift had started at three, meaning Kaylie had entered Stanley Residence Hall at some point within the hour.

  As she fast-forwarded the footage, her stomach twisted with anticipation, then suddenly dropped. She slowed the footage as Kaylie swung open the door and entered the foyer. Bill wore a big grin as Kaylie approached the desk. At this point, she wished the footage contained sound. She’d love to hear the exchange. Based on Bill’s body language, the way he smiled and puffed his chest, it was obvious he liked Kaylie. Oddly, she was all smiles, too, as she leaned over the desk and talked. She touched him…a pat on the arm, then another on the hand. She said something else, and Bill’s smile grew enormous.

  “Must’ve just asked him to lunch,” Rachel murmured.

  Kaylie pushed away from the desk and turned. Bill looked up, his smile falling slightly. Melissa approached the desk and gave Kaylie a half hug. They exchanged a few words, then Melissa waved to Bill and she and Kaylie walked away. Before Kaylie was out of camera range, she glanced over her shoulder. Wearing, what Rachel considered, a shy smile, Kaylie said something, waved, then disappeared from the screen.

  Rachel leaned back in the chair and watched as Bill picked up the phone a few minutes later. She looked at the time on the screen. Four o’clock. “So he calls Joy here,” she said, then rewound the footage. After a few minutes, she realized Kaylie had never signed the guest roster. “Strike one, Kaylie. Let’s see if there’s any more against you.”

  She fast-forwarded, watched students passing in and out of the foyer, then came to the familiar part when Sean and Josh’s pizza was delivered. Checking the time stamp, she slowed the footage. Josh and Sean were now in the foyer, talking with Bill. As soon as they left, Bill covered his mouth and ran out of camera range. Even though she’d already watched all of this and knew what was coming, her skin prickled with dread and unease, just as the camera was slowly moved.

  After rubbing her arms, she paused the video. “Kaylie never left.” She quickly reached for her cell phone and called Owen. As his phone rang, she stood, then grabbed her boots. When the call rolled into his voice mail, she left a message, then ended the call. After lacing her boots, she tried Jake’s phone, which also went into voice mail. She swore, grabbed her coat, then headed downstairs.

  “I was just going to see if you wanted something to eat,” Joy said as Rachel hit the bottom step.

  “No time.” Rachel zipped her coat, then rushed down the hall. When she reached the foyer, she paused. “What the…?”

  “The funeral director’s son picked up all those frickin’ flowers. It’s nice to be able to breathe again.”

  “It’s not that. I just realized I don’t have a car.”

  Joy’s eyes grew large as alarm crossed her face. “Where are you racing off to?”

  “I need to get to Owen and Jake. Neither one of them are answering their cell phones.”

  “What’s the point of having one if you don’t frickin’ answer?” She shook her head. “What’s going on?”

  She quickly told Joy her suspicions.

  Joy’s cheeks grew red as she narrowed her eyes. “That little bitch. I’m coming with you.”

  “No. No way. I could be dead wrong and don’t need you kicking Kaylie’s ass. Please. Can I borrow your car?”

  With a huff, Joy left the foyer. Seconds later she came back holding a set of keys. “It’s in the garage.” As she handed over the keys, she gripped Rachel’s hand. “Don’t do anything stupid. Find Owen or Jake. Hell, even Walter. If this girl is capable of kidnapping young men and killing Bill, who knows what she’ll do to you?”

  *

  As Owen stood next to Jake and watched the crowd, he wished—for the millionth time—he were back at Joy’s. Although he’d love to warm up next to an extremely naked Rachel, he knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, if at all. But he’d take Rachel’s icy attitude over the frigid temperatures he was exposed to now.

  “When Stronach proposed the Bigfoot festival, didn’t anyone suggest he do it in the summer?” Owen asked, and pulled his knit cap over his ears.

  “He insisted on doing it now,” Jake said, then sipped from a thermos. “Dumbass said he wanted his students to experience the festivities.”

  “Dumbass is right.” He nodded to the thermos. “What do you have in there?”

  “Coffee, but I wish it was whiskey.” Jake greeted an older couple as they walked past them. “I was really hoping the state police lab had more for us. Hell Week has been hanging over Bola for twenty years. It needs to stop.”

  Owen eyed the sheriff. “You said you were in the Marines.”

  “Yep.”

  “And from Pittsburgh.”

  Jake nodded and took another sip. With a sigh, he looked at Owen. “Something you want to know?”

  “Just killing time.”

  “Ever serve in the military?” Jake asked. “Or are you a former cop turned PI?”

  “U.S. Secret Service.”

  Jake whistled, then chuckled. “Didn’t see that coming. How do you go from being a Secret Service agent to private investigating?”

  “Long story.”

  “I thought we were killing time,” Jake said with a grin. “Okay, I’ll bite, ‘cause now you’ve got me curious. I was with Marine Division Recon—1st Reconnaissance Battalion.”

  Familiar with the different branches of the U.S. military, Owen knew that meant Jake was part of the Marine Air Ground Task Force of the U.S. Marine Corps Reconnaissance Battalions. In other words, he was a badass.

  “Got out in ’06 right when we were in the middle of Operation Iraqi Freedom.” Jake’s smile fell as he looked to the crowd. “We were patrolling in a Humvee. It hit an IED, killed the driver, and injured the rest of my team. One guy lost an arm. The other sustained burns over sixty percent of his body…I got lucky. Took shrapnel to my back and leg. Missed my spine by that much.” He held his fingers less than an inch a par
t. “I only had to spend two months in the hospital, but by that time, my tour was up and I chose not to reenlist. I saw enough fighting to last me a million lifetimes.”

  After a moment, Jake released a sigh. “I had a fiancée, Naomi, waiting for me. We were both from Pittsburgh, but while I was overseas, she moved to Bola. She wanted out of the city so bad, she plopped herself right in the middle of nowhere.” He smiled. “She worked as a nurse at Dixon Medical Center. And when I moved here, Bola was looking for a sheriff.” He took another sip from the thermos. “I think the only reason I got elected was because the other guy running against me was a Townie—and not a popular one.”

  “Being a veteran probably helped.”

  “That and Naomi ran a hell of a campaign. She was popular with the Townies. Hell, if she ran for sheriff, I’d bet anything she would’ve been elected.” Jake clenched his jaw as he narrowed his eyes. “She left me about a year later when she realized she couldn’t do the small town thing, after all.” He sighed. “Okay, your turn.”

  Owen gave Jake a shortened version of what he’d told Rachel about his time with the U.S. Secret Service. After he explained how he’d ended up with CORE, Jake frowned.

  “So, your boss waited until you were down, then recruited you?”

  “That’s Ian’s MO with every one of CORE’s agents.”

  “Even Rachel?”

  “No.” Owen chuckled. “She’s the exception. After she got out of the Army, she entered the Chicago Police Academy, but couldn’t pass their psychology tests.” He grinned. “Rachel doesn’t know how to obey the rules and has issues with authority.”

  Jake half-laughed. “I can see that. I thought she was going to rip Marty’s head off the day he told her he was taking lead on the investigation.”

  “No shit,” he said, while thinking about the way she’d basically ripped his head off over the email to Ian. “Anyway, Rachel hears about CORE, and applies for a job. Ian doesn’t even bother with an interview and sends her a ‘thanks but no thanks’ letter. Instead of taking the rejection, she hacks into CORE’s computer system. After she disengaged every firewall, she sends Ian an email telling him his system blows ass—and those were her exact words—and if he wanted, she’d be willing to fix it.”

  “That’s balls. He could have gone to the police. He should have gone to the police.”

  “Not Ian,” Owen said with a grin. “He reviewed her resume again, saw what she did when she was with Army Intelligence, then must’ve realized it’s better to have Rachel working for him than someone else. He went to her apartment and hired her on the spot. I’ll never forget the day she walked…there’s Walt.” He changed the subject before he said too much. Jake didn’t need to know how he’d been intrigued by Rachel’s big green eyes, red hair, lush lips and curvy body the moment she’d walked through the door.

  Jake laughed. “Smooth transition.” He waved at Walt. “Maybe one of these days we’ll grab a beer and you can tell me what’s with you two.”

  Owen welcomed the warmth infusing his cheeks, but not the reasons for it. Instead of dwelling on Rachel and how he could make things right between them, he greeted Walter. “Cold enough?”

  Walt tugged on his ugly earflap hat. “Nah. This ain’t nothing,” he said even as a shiver wracked his body. “Jake, been looking for you. I wanted to talk to you about Bill’s funeral.”

  Sensing Walter was going to discuss something personal, Owen edged away from the two men. “I’m going to walk around. I’ll meet up with you later. Walt, I want to leave as soon as this thing shuts down. The cold might be nothing to you, but it sure as hell is to me.”

  After he left the two men, he weaved through the crowd. Fortunately, the polka band had only been scheduled for last night. Unfortunately, the country trio playing now wasn’t any better. They sang like a pack of whining dogs, and either the cold had affected their ability to play an instrument, or they just couldn’t play worth shit.

  When he reached the edge of the crowd, he turned and watched the hundreds of people milling around the town square. Some morons had donned Bigfoot masks, making them look like distant cousins of Chewbacca. Then again, those morons were probably warmer than him. At least their faces weren’t exposed to these ridiculously low temperatures.

  Besides, who was he to call anyone a moron? Because he had to play by the rules, he’d screwed everything up with Rachel. Instead of obeying his boss, he should have gone to Rachel first. He should have told her that Ian wanted detailed updates as to how she’d conducted herself during the investigation. Even if he’d been upfront with her, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have given Ian an honest report. If she wasn’t ready to work in the field, she could jeopardize herself, another agent, an assignment and even CORE. But he hadn’t been upfront with her. Instead, he’d betrayed her trust. He’d not only taken something she’d said and used it against her, he’d allowed his need to keep her safely tucked away in CORE’s evidence and evaluation room, and his love for her, to skew his judgment.

  He froze. Love? Hell, yeah. What else could explain why his chest ached and his stomach knotted every single time he considered she might not have anything to do with him outside of work? He’d told her he was crazy about her, and that was the truth. But his actions, her reactions, had made him realize this was more than sexual infatuation. The thought of never having the chance to be with her, on every level possible, made him sick, especially because if that happened, the blame would lie solely on him. He could have controlled the situation. He could have told her the truth. He could have showed her how much he valued and loved her by giving her the honesty and respect she deserved.

  Now he was fucked.

  She’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. While he couldn’t blame her, he also couldn’t walk away without a fight. He’d done just that when he’d left the U.S. Secret Service. Instead of fighting for his reputation after he’d been exonerated, it had been easier to walk away and start fresh. Granted, leaving the Secret Service and joining CORE had ended up being the best career choice for him, but the way he’d handled the situation had haunted him for years. Regret had made him a workaholic. He’d kept busy so that he couldn’t stop and consider what his life might have been like had he fought for what he wanted.

  As he stood at the fringes of the crowded square, watching the band, the people with the Bigfoot masks, it occurred to him that maybe he hadn’t fought for his reputation because he hadn’t cared enough. Maybe, deep down, he’d been ready to leave the Secret Service, but couldn’t admit it to himself. While he’d loved what he’d been doing in Italy, there had been times when he’d longed to come back to the States, where he could be closer to his family. But it had been more than that. He’d grown…bored.

  His breath hung on the frigid air as he released a deep sigh. Shit. Why did it have to take Rachel walking away from him to make him realize he’d wasted too many years hanging onto a regret that—in the big scheme of life—hadn’t even mattered? As his stomach balled at the thought of losing her, he clenched his jaw. Screw that. Rachel would not walk away from him. This time he’d fight. Because this time, the fight was worth it. Professionally, personally and physically, they were more than good together. More than that, he did love her. Now that he could wrap his brain around the emotion that had been nagging him for a long time, thinking the “L” word was becoming easier and easier. Telling Rachel how he felt? Well, telling and showing were two different things. And before he opened up, laid his heart on the line, he needed her to see his love in action.

  Headlights pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder as a dark SUV slowed along the curb and stopped in front of a wooden barricade. When the passenger side window opened, he took a step forward.

  “Owen?” a woman’s familiar voice called.

  He took another step, then caught Melissa, Jake’s receptionist, leaning across the SUV’s center console. “Hey. Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know
. Marty called the station and said he couldn’t get in touch with you or Jake. I guess he and Rachel are looking for you two. He said everyone needs to get to Wexman immediately.”

  As anticipation thrummed through his veins, he looked over his shoulder and did a quick scan of the crowd. When he didn’t spot Jake, he moved closer to the SUV. “Where’s Jake now?”

  “I already found him. He sent me after you.”

  Then why not call him? Owen dug into his coat pocket and retrieved his phone. Shit. He’d missed a call from Rachel. “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll head to Jake’s office—”

  “Hop in, I’ll give you a ride.”

  He’d parked in the lot outside of the Sheriff’s Department. Rather than waste time and hoof it in the cold, he opened the passenger door and climbed in. “Appreciate it,” he said and closed the window. He dropped his cell phone in his lap and held his gloved hands in front of the vents. “Any idea why they want to head to Wexman?”

  As she did a quick U-turn, she shook her head. “Beats me. Apparently Marty didn’t think I needed to know.” She stopped at a stop sign, then turned the SUV down the road leading to the Sheriff’s Department. “I’m just a girl sending a message.”

  “Too bad he didn’t give you a message to send,” he said, and picked up his phone. Rather walk into Jake’s office unprepared, he hoped Rachel’s voice mail could give him an indication of what had been discovered that had them rushing to the university.

  “You misunderstand. I’m the one sending a message,” she said, reached to her left, then swung.

  A wooden baton connected against his forehead. The unexpected blow jarred his head, made him dizzy, and warped his vision. The phone fell from his ear as he raised his hand and reached for the steering wheel. Before he could veer them off the road, she cracked his hand with the baton, then elbowed him in the jaw. Blood instantly coated his tongue as his head jerked back. She jabbed him in the stomach, then nailed him in the groin. Dazed and writhing in pain he reached for the weapon, and caught it as she swung.