Her Christmas Protector

by Geri Krotow

  “She should’ve thought about that before she took up with Leonard Wise.”

  Bryce and Claudia remained quiet at her outburst. Frustration boiled in Zora’s belly and she suddenly longed for a hard run through rough terrain.

  “I’ve had a good life—and I’ve never spoken about the events of my childhood as much as I have this past week. Please tell me it’s a coincidence that she’s in Silver Valley, Claudia.”

  “I’ve checked out your mother’s background since you left the True Believers, Zora.” Claudia’s tone got her attention. If anyone had the resources to dig into a federal case that had been sealed, it would be the Trail Hikers.

  “Tell me.”

  Claudia waved at the chair across from her.

  “Sit down first. We don’t have long but you need to know this.”

  “I can leave if you want.” Bryce gave her the way out she thought she’d want.

  She surprised both of them as she placed her hand on his forearm. “No, stay. I’ve got nothing to hide, and like you said, we’re partners.”

  “Your mother stayed in touch with some of the True Believers only because she didn’t have the cash to move away right after the trials sent the leaders to prison. As soon as she saved enough by working at a diner—a different one than the one you remember—she left for Buffalo. She lived there and put herself through Erie Community College to get her certification to work as a medical aide. She moved around a couple of times, with no apparent reason, until she settled down in the small town I mentioned. But then with no explanation, she moved here. Her most recent employment is at the Silver Valley hospital. She works there and lives in the apartments off Silver Pike.”

  “Silver Pike?” Zora held on to her coffee mug to steady her hands. “But that’s only a few miles away. And the hospital... She could have known I was a patient there after the shooting.”

  “Yes.” Claudia stared at her. “Zora, I think she’s found out where you grew up and maybe hoped you’d still be here.”

  “I don’t want anything to do with her.” Guilt clawed at her. She had to tell Claudia her biggest secret.

  “That’s up to you, but she’s here in Silver Valley. If you ever decide to talk to her, not that I’m saying you should, she’s here.”

  “It’s odd that she’s shown up here and hasn’t contacted you.” Bryce didn’t fully buy the story Claudia presented.

  Claudia didn’t respond, inspecting her hands as they rested on her desk.

  Zora sighed. “It’s my bust.” She used the navy slang to confess her guilt. “I put out some feelers for her when I was still in the navy. I just wanted to make sure she was all right. The PI I hired must have leaked my information somehow.”

  “That could have led you right back to the bastards who held you hostage in that godforsaken compound!” Bryce couldn’t hold back.

  “I know. But I’m not an innocent twelve-year-old any longer. I have resources and I wasn’t trying to start a relationship with my mother again. It’s just that...” She didn’t want to get into it, not now. “Claudia already knows everything. I had to tell her when I was approached by the Trail Hikers.”

  Claudia cleared her throat.

  “There’s something else I think you should know, Zora.”

  “Now what?”

  “It’s not that bad, but we already knew who you were when you came to us. The US Marshals have never failed a protected witness, and because of that we have ties to them as needed. Your name is flagged.”

  “It never came up when I got my security clearances in the navy.” She’d worried that it would preclude her from her top secret/SBI clearance as an ensign. It would have been the death of her intelligence career.

  “No, it wouldn’t. You truly were given an entirely new identity. But having a PI investigate your mother, even under your new name and not telling the PI it was your mother...”

  “I knew it was a risk, but I figured even if she found out she wouldn’t say anything. All of the big players were in jail, are still in jail.”

  “Except for the two who got out last year.”

  “And one more last month.” Bryce added the grim detail.

  Silence settled again on the three of them.

  “My mother showing up in Silver Valley has nothing to do with the Female Preacher Killer case, right? So let’s get our focus back where it needs to be. For heaven’s sake, a woman was killed in cold blood tonight.”

  Claudia and Bryce exchanged a look and Zora rolled her eyes.

  “Come on, folks, I know you’re thinking I’m in denial, or not wanting to face my past. That’s not it. I hold nothing against my mother. She was brainwashed, pure and simple. I hated her for it for years, until I reached the age she was when she turned to the cult. I had the good fortune of a wonderful education behind me, and a world of options for my future. She never had any of that. How can I blame her for taking the best meal ticket she could grab?”

  Again Claudia and Bryce looked at her with compassion but she couldn’t see past what she felt was their pity.

  “Do not feel sorry for me.”

  “No one’s throwing a pity party here, Zora. You’re capable of handling life-or-death situations and have survived being shot. You don’t need anyone’s pity.” Bryce’s words were matter-of-fact but his compassionate manner made her want to lean her head on his shoulder and sit while he stroked her back, like he had at the gala.

  Claudia’s eyes sparked with understanding and Zora wanted to scream from frustration. Working with the Trail Hikers was turning into a freak show. It was as if her entire life were under a microscope.

  And she wasn’t the criminal!

  Now Claudia was seeing things between her and Bryce that didn’t, well, couldn’t, exist.

  “So tell us, Claudia. Reverend Bissell. Was it one shot or more that took her out? Bryce is convinced the killer’s a hunter. What do you think?”

  “I think you don’t have to be the best shot to kill, although he’s obviously used these weapons before. All you need is a working weapon and a motive.”

  * * *

  They hashed through the case as they knew it so far. Seven victims in total, all female. Four near misses including Zora. Three deceased, all ministers at local churches. All killed by gunshot wounds to their chests. Their hearts.

  Zora voiced her thoughts. “He probably is a hunter. He’s been able to pull off three lethal heart shots with a hunting rifle. Four, if you count the shot to my vest, using a different weapon, of course.” The killer had used a handgun instead of a rifle in her driveway.

  “He’s using a caliber that could stop a bear in its tracks.” Bryce’s dry response annoyed her because it was true.

  “I think he’s planned for this for a long time. And he has a whopping resentment against women in the ministry. Probably in other traditionally male roles, as well.” Claudia stood up and walked to the coffeepot where she poured herself another oversize mug of coffee.

  “Claudia, do you ever sleep?” She voiced what Bryce had asked less than an hour earlier, though it felt like days ago.

  “When I need to, yes.” Claudia didn’t stop at the personal query. “Our killer is probably very habitual in his routine, and possibly a boring person otherwise. The profiler thinks it’s a local, and I concur. Especially now that we know he was in your yard.”

  “We don’t know it was him, for sure. We can’t. Let’s see what forensics tells us.” Zora tried to sound more detached than she felt.

  “It’s going to tell us what you already figured out, Zora. This bastard thinks you’re Reverend Hammermill, and you’re his next target.” Bryce’s protective feelings were clear in his tone.

  Claudia interrupted them. “No. She’s his last target.”

  They both looked at her.

  “Claudia?” Bryce’s voice had that gruff challenge in it again.

  “Think about it. He’s upping his game, losing any nervousness he had. He took three shots to kill the fir
st victim, until he got in the heart shot. Then he killed your client, and he only needed two shots. This time he did it in one.”

  “You’re right, Claudia. His accuracy is improving. He’s also collecting information on his victims before he kills them. That’s obvious, since he’s sending them flowers beforehand.” Bryce spoke the words Zora had already thought.

  “He’s more confident, wants to make sure he gets to the big bang. Um, sorry.” She felt herself blush at the awful pun.

  “All he has to do is watch the local news to understand that his chances of getting out of this alive are small,” Bryce continued. “We will do everything to take him in alive, of course, but this is an all-or-nothing mentality we’re dealing with. He’s planning for the contingency that either he’ll go down, too, when the big episode happens. As long as he proves his point.” Bryce’s comment showed that he’d been doing more than dancing at the gala. He never stopped analyzing.

  “Well done, Bryce. You’re in alignment with the profiler and with my thinking, too. Zora, do you have anything to add?”

  “Hey, I’m the rookie here as far as law enforcement goes. Just tell me what you need me to do next and I’m there. We have to stop him.”

  “Be observant while you’re at work. Assume nothing is regular. Don’t trust anyone. Bryce, your marching orders remain the same.”

  “What are your ‘marching orders’?” Zora didn’t realize Claudia had given them separate orders.

  “To keep you alive.”

  * * *

  “I’m staying here tonight, Zora. Go get your wig and dress off and get into bed. I’ll bunk on the sofa. Butternut will guard the door.”

  His stance was wider than normal and with his hands on his hips he looked as though he could single-handedly take out the killer.

  “I’m not refusing your help, Bryce. I just wouldn’t want you to get hurt because you stayed.”

  “No one’s after me. And he’s not going to come back, not tonight. But if he does we’ll be ready for him.” An additional security detail was patrolling the woods behind her home all night.

  She glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. Four hours of sleep was the most she could hope for. Even feeling this wired from the stress of the case, this exhausted, she had a hard time keeping her mind off her body’s desire for Bryce.

  When she met his eyes, she saw the same struggle reflected there.

  “This is hard work, isn’t it?” Her voice squeaked from exhaustion.

  “Just stay focused on how good it’s going to feel when...we catch the killer.” What he left unsaid was clear in his tone, his stance, the fire in his eyes.

  She closed her eyes and gave her head a little shake.

  “I have to be at the church office by eight. What’s your reason for being there tomorrow going to be?” The next day was the Saturday before Christmas. Then it would be Sunday—the last Sunday of Advent.

  Bryce smiled.

  “Why, didn’t you know I’m training to be a youth minister?”

  Chapter 12

  After she made sure Bryce had enough blankets, a pillow and a towel, Zora got herself ready for bed in record time. She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep. Too much had happened and even Butternut wasn’t at her usual place of honor at the foot of Zora’s bed. Instead, she lay in the hall between the master bedroom and the top of the stairs. Bryce was downstairs, but because of the age and solid walls of the house Zora couldn’t hear anything but the quiet tick of her alarm clock.

  And the wind. It had picked up from the start of the gala and was close to gale force. No wonder it was so cold. She got up and tiptoed to the thermostat, which was on the wall in the upstairs corridor.

  It said forty-five degrees Fahrenheit, even though it was set to kick on at sixty-five. No wonder she was shivering.

  The pilot light was probably out.

  She went back into her room to get a throw to drape over her robe and flannel pj’s, along with her warmest slippers. Moving quietly through the house as Butternut followed her, she made it to the bottom of the stairs and headed toward the basement door.

  “You okay?” Bryce’s voice sounded from the living room, making her all but jump out of her fuzzy slippers.

  “I’m fine, but aren’t you freezing? The pilot light on the heater went out. I’m going to restart it.”

  “Do you need a hand?”

  “No, no, I’ve got it. Butternut’s helping me.”

  Bryce grunted and she made out a bulky shape under several blankets on the sofa, turning over.

  “There’s a guest room, Bryce. You’d be more comfortable there.”

  “I’d never sleep. I’d be listening too hard.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered more to herself than him and opened the basement door. Once down on the cellar floor she could see that the pilot light was out on the heater. She struck the small lighter she kept on a shelf nearby for just such occasions.

  No flame.

  “C’mon.” The chill of the approaching winter seeped up through the hard floor and made her toes numb. Her fingers were sure to follow. She tried to light the pilot light three more times before stopping, as the directions suggested. She sat back and rubbed Butternut’s warm body as the dog lay next to her.

  Footsteps shuffled on the landing at the top of the stairs.

  “No luck?”

  “No, but it’ll go on. Sometimes it’s tricky.”

  Stairs squeaked as Bryce’s feet appeared. “How old is your furnace?”

  “No idea. It came with the house.”

  Bryce’s face looked gaunt in the harsh glare of the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling.

  “You’ve got a much nicer upstairs than this basement indicates.”

  “This house is almost two hundred years old. It’s solid, just a little unfinished around the edges.”

  Bryce didn’t reply. He was on all fours, inspecting the spot where the gas came through to fuel the heater. He depressed the ignition key.

  “I’m not hearing the gas when I press on the button.”

  “I didn’t, either, but I hoped it was because my teeth were chattering so much.”

  “It’s not your teeth. Your gas isn’t coming in here. What about upstairs? You have a gas stove, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where’s your water heater?”

  “Over there.” She motioned across the basement to a modern water heater, which looked incongruous against the aged wall and dirt floor.

  Bryce walked over to the water heater and felt it.

  “This is barely room temperature.” He bent down and checked where the flame should be. “Its pilot is out, too.”

  “Sometimes a wicked draft can blow out the pilot lights.”

  “At the same time?”

  “Once, two years ago, we had a hurricane come through and the winds took out the electricity as well as the pilot lights.”

  “You were back here for that?” Heat forgotten, Bryce’s eyes seemed...hurt, confused?

  “I didn’t try to contact anyone when I came back, Bryce. I wasn’t ready.” He was the only friend she’d ever considered keeping from high school, and she’d forced herself to let go of him before they even graduated. Didn’t he realize what a loner she was?

  “Huh.” He bit his lower lip and looked back at the water heater as if taking the time to think through the mechanics of it all.

  “Let’s go check your gas line. Where’s the main shutoff?”

  “There’s one here.” She looked at the space between the heater and the wall. “It’s still open.”

  “Then it’s involving the main. Shut off the valve here and let’s go look outside for the turnoff.”

  * * *

  They huddled with a flashlight over the gas meter as high winds lashed at their backs.

  “Here, use the wrench. I’ll hold the flashlight.” She handed him the heavy tool.

  His hands were so strong, so capable. She couldn’t keep he
r mind from wandering and thinking about what else those hands could do besides handle a tool.

  With one deft move Bryce restored the valve to the open position.

  “Hand me the flashlight.”

  She did and watched as he swung the beam around the meter, and then down on the ground.

  More footprints. Similar to the booted prints that she’d discovered alongside her house earlier.

  “Did Forensics tell you they’d found these?” She asked the question even though she knew with certain dread what his answer would be.

  “No.”

  “I guess there’s no reason they would have. They were focused on the back of the house.” She spoke the words like a professional but inside she felt the raw edges of fear. Fear unlike anything she’d known since breaking free from the True Believers.

  “Damn it.” Bryce stood in front of the meter, his head up toward the moonlit sky as if seeking an answer from above.

  “He wanted to send a message. We got it. Let’s go back in, Bryce.” She placed her hand on his arm and realized with a start how comfortable, natural, automatic the gesture was.

  His hand covered hers with a tight squeeze.

  “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For not railing at me like you should. I was sleeping on the other side of this wall. There’s no excuse for me to have missed him if he came back.”

  “I don’t think he came back, Bryce. And if he did, this wall is almost a foot thick. It’s not a modern home, and we’re not in the middle of a quickly slapped-up development. This house has been here a lot longer than any of us, and it’s solid. On a still summer night you wouldn’t necessarily hear an intruder. Butternut never sensed any danger or I’m sure she would have alerted us.” She tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s go in. I’m freezing.”

  Chapter 13

  “Good morning, Reverend Hammermill.” Shirley Mae greeted Zora from her desk that doubled as a reception area for the church offices. “How was the gala last night?”

  Had it only been last night? Zora felt as though weeks had passed since she’d danced in Bryce’s arms. And endured another forensics team visit to her home.