by D. F. Hart
“How are you feeling, by the way? I’ve heard hitting a deer can be quite painful.”
“Hitting a deer? What the hell are you talking about?”
“My apologies,” Nathan said. “Let’s start from the beginning. We seem to have multiple cases that involve locations on the Texas Forts Trail.”
Grant’s face turned ghostly white. “Mul... multiple? Multiples of what?” he stammered. “And what does that have to do with me?”
“Murders, Mr. Forrester, and one attempted murder. As for your other question, you were seen leaving Stella Williams’ home the afternoon she died, for starters.”
Grant’s eyes were huge.
“I don’t understand. I spent that whole day with Stella,” Grant explained. “From ten a.m. until around six, I think it was. She’s the foremost expert on Fort Chadbourne, and I wanted to make sure I got the history right for my readers. She’s delightful, a tiny little bundle of energy. My readers loved hearing about her, and they asked for a follow-up article about her, so when I got done with my tour of Fort Davis today, I headed here to talk to her again. I had no idea she’d died. None. I sure as hell didn’t kill her. And I have no idea why anyone else would kill her, either. She was an awesome lady.”
“What did you do when you left her house?’
Grant closed his eyes, remembering.
“I had to stop for gas,” he recalled. “And then I headed north toward Abilene. I was scheduled to meet with Benji Patterson and go walk Fort Phantom Hill and Fort Griffin the next morning.”
Now he began to shake. “Oh, God. Please, Agent Thomas. Tell me nothing happened to Benji.”
Nathan regarded him quietly for a moment.
“He was shot,” the agent relayed, “but he survived and made a full recovery. Speaking of shot,” he paused, flipping through his notes, “let’s talk about Edward Baker.”
“Ed was shot?” Grant was incredulous. “I thought he just had some sort of medical issue. The police kept referring to it as ‘the accident’ and none of us were allowed to get close to where he was.”
“You were there for that?” Lizzie asked.
He swiveled his eyes her direction.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “I covered the parade that morning, then went to the fort. Ed had told me that the best place to get a good view of the reenactment was from the long front porch of the hospital, so I hunkered down there with about forty or fifty other people.”
“Did you meet with Sally Rutherford?” Nathan asked abruptly.
“I did,” Grant said, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. “Don’t tell me...”
“She was shot to death, as well. The same night that you hit the deer.”
“But I didn’t hit a deer! Why do you keep saying that?”
Nathan leaned forward, all business.
“A man named Grant Forrester, matching your description and driving a rental car, totaled said car in Menard at about eleven p.m. the night of Sally Rutherford’s murder.”
“Why would I rent a car when I already have one?” Grant shot back. “I could see renting a truck if I needed to move or haul something, but another car? That’s just dumb.”
That’s what I thought, too, Nathan noted in his mind.
“And,” Grant continued, his voice stronger, “I went and toured Presidio de San Saba after Ms. Rutherford and I parted ways at Fort Mason, and I spent that night in Menard. I’ve got hotel and meal receipts to prove it. I got up the next morning and traveled out to Fort McKavett, and I’ve got receipts for that, too. Matter of fact, I’ve got receipts for every single thing that’s happened on all these trips. You’re welcome to dig through them all you like. Not to mention, I feel fine physically because I did not hit any freaking deer.”
“So,” Grant concluded, “I’m not sure what the hell’s going on, but you guys obviously have me confused with someone else. I’ll take a lie detector test, give you fingerprints, and whatever else you need to prove what I’m saying. I did not kill anybody.”
Suddenly any remaining color he’d held onto fled his face.
“Oh, God,” he stammered as he clutched the edge of the table. “You need to check on her, please. Please. Can we call and check on her?”
“Who?”
“Kelly,” he said, pure panic on his face. “Kelly Moore. She was my tour guide at McKavett. She’s moved up to Fort Richardson now. We’ve started dating, Agent Thomas. Whoever’s killing these people.... she could be a target. You have to protect her.”
“Please,” Grant implored, tears streaming down his face. “She’s the love of my life. You have to protect her.”
***
“What do you think?” Nathan asked Lizzie when they stepped out into the hall for a brief break.
“Honestly? His surprise at hearing all this seemed genuine,” Lizzie told her boss. “Didn’t strike me as contrived, at all. Above and beyond that, if he killed Stella Williams, why the hell bother to come back to the scene six months later? That doesn’t fit.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Nathan agreed. “Call Ben, check status on that subpoena, then ask him to send someone up to Jacksboro to check on Kelly Moore. I’ll find out who Grant talked to at Fort Davis and get someone out there, too.”
“On it,” Lizzie said as she pulled her cell phone from its holder at her waist. “You going back in?”
“Yeah,” Nathan told her. “I want to know what happened. He said he was supposed to meet Benji the day after he was with Stella. But according to Benji, their time got postponed. I want to know why.”
“I’ll rejoin you when I get off the phone.”
Nathan nodded, and stepped back into the interview room.
***
“Okay,” he said to Grant as he sat down again, “Agent Zimmerman is making some calls. We’re going to check on Kelly for you, all right?’
“Thank you,” Grant’s voice trembled with emotion. “If anything happened to her, I just...”
“I get it,” Nathan said softly. “I really do.”
He paused as Grant took a sip of water.
“You up for answering more questions?”
“Anything I can do to help, Agent Thomas, I will.”
Nathan flipped his notepad to the next page. “Who did you visit with at Fort Davis this morning?”
“Jodie Estelle,” came the reply. “The tour facilitator.”
Nathan made a note of the name, then said, “bear with me just a moment,” as he dialed a number.
“Annie, can you reach out to our southwest branch? Need them to make contact with Jodie Estelle at Fort Davis, please.”
“Okay, then, let’s keep going,” Nathan said as he refocused on the man in front of him. “You said you were supposed to meet up with Benji Patterson the day after you toured Fort Chadbourne with Stella Williams. But I’ve talked to Benji. He didn’t meet with you until four months later. Why is that?”
“I had just arrived at Fort Phantom Hill that morning when my mother called me. My father had had a massive heart attack. I left immediately and headed straight to Jacksboro. But he was gone by the time I got there,” Grant revealed, his face clouding with raw grief.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nathan said sincerely.
“I know exactly how that feels.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I took a leave of absence from work, stayed with Mom for a while, helped take care of everything.”
The room fell silent for a long while.
“Agent Thomas, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“What’s going on here? I just... I don’t understand all this. I really don’t. I don’t understand why people I’ve made contact with have died. I don’t understand why some other guy would be running around using my name to rent cars. It’s surreal, and not a single bit of it makes any sense to me.”
Nathan stared at him for several moments as he processed Grant’s words.
He didn’t do this, Nathan’s gut was screaming loud and clear.
There’s something else going on here. I just need to figure out what.
“Grant, do you own any weapons?”
“Several, actually. All historical pieces, some of which have been passed down in my family for generations.”
“Any that would fire a .44/40 round?”
Grant’s face scrunched up as he thought about it.
“Just one,” he confirmed. “I have a Winchester 1873 in my collection. Beautiful piece. It belonged to a relative on my mom’s side. He bought it brand new in 1873 and it’s been in the family ever since.... Wait. Is that what Ed and Benji and Stella and Ms. Rutherford were shot with?”
Huh. He doesn’t know Stella’s manner of death was different, Nathan realized. That’s another point in his favor.
“That caliber round, yes,” Nathan confirmed, his voice even.
“That rifle is in the gun cabinet at my house, and I haven’t fired it – or any weapon I own– in over a year. You’re welcome to go to my house and get it and do whatever you need to do to prove that. All I ask is that you’re careful with it. Like I said, it’s a family heirloom.”
Lizzie entering the room again caused a pause in the conversation.
“What happens next?” Grant asked them. “Am I being arrested?”
“No,” Nathan answered, looking Grant squarely in the eyes. “But I’d like you to come back to Dallas with us so we can continue our conversation.”
He sensed rather than saw Lizzie’s eyebrows raise.
“Excuse us just a moment, would you?” he said to Grant.
“Um, sure.”
***
Once they were back in the hall Lizzie said, “I don’t understand. What are you doing?”
“Following my gut,” her boss said simply. “And it’s telling me Grant Forrester is another potential target, not our killer. Best way to keep him safe and flush out the real killer is to keep him in our custody, and make the killer think that we suspect Grant. And that means transporting him to Dallas.”
“What if you’re wrong and he is, in fact, our killer?”
Nathan studied her face.
“Lizzie,” he told her, “my gut tells me that those medical records we’re having so much trouble getting will explain a lot. They might even prove that the man sitting in that room is not our killer. But we’re still going to collect and analyze his prints, and we’re still going to perform a polygraph exam, as well. Cover every base and go from there. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough. Two more questions.”
“Which are?”
“How are we going to get his car back to Dallas? We can’t leave it parked in the lady’s driveway, and it’s a little unorthodox to have him drive it back himself, don’t you think?”
Now Nathan grinned. “That would definitely not be normal – which is why we’re going to have it impounded and shipped to Dallas for us.”
“And what are you going to do with him? He’s not under arrest, so it’s not like you can just put him in a holding cell.”
“No, he’s not under arrest. Right now, he’s more of a material witness, so we’re going to make sure he’s comfortable - and kept under watch.”
***
The trio arrived back at the FBI regional office in Dallas a little before eleven p.m. and Grant was taken into the conference room where a lab technician collected his fingerprints. Then he was passed on to one of Nathan’s agents and escorted to a hotel for the evening.
“We’ll start fresh in the morning,” Nathan told Lizzie once Grant had departed with his bodyguard for the night. “Meet me at the conference room at seven-thirty sharp.”
“See you then,” she said.
***
Twenty minutes later she was pulling into her driveway and was surprised when Donny met her at her car.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he said with a warm smile. “You look beat.”
“I am.”
“I can help with that. Have you eaten?”
“Not since this afternoon.”
“I can help with that, too. Come on, sweetheart. Get a hot shower while I make you some not-shiny-at-all scrambled eggs.”
Lizzie giggled. “Not-shiny-at-all scrambled eggs sound really, really good.”
“Be sweet to me and I bet I can get some bacon ready, too,” he teased as they walked into the house.
“You know I’m just marrying you for your hot bod and your cooking, right?” she teased back.
***
Nathan crept into the master bedroom at twenty minutes past midnight. He could just make out the silhouettes of the two people he loved most in the world sound asleep in the king-sized bed.
Guess Charlie got fussy, so Bella brought him in here.
He smiled tenderly as he gazed at his wife and son, then moved as quietly as possible into the bathroom to undress for bed.
When he slid under the covers a few minutes later Bella whispered, “Hi, baby. Glad you’re home safe.”
“Hi there,” he whispered back. “Sorry I woke you.”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” she confessed. “I was just lying here enjoying the quiet after finally getting this little one to go to sleep.”
“Everything all right?” Nathan murmured.
“I think he has another ear infection, poor thing. But he’s down for the night now.”
“I’m going to carry him to his bed,” Nathan told her. “I have this sudden overwhelming desire to spend some quality time alone with his mother.”
In the sliver of moonlight that peeked through the tiny gap in the curtains he could see her lips curve into a smile.
***
Lizzie was up at five a.m., restless and anxious to start the day. She glanced over and noticed the empty space beside her.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she heard Donny say from the chair across the room.
“Morning. What are you doing?”
“Tying my shoes. I’m going for a run,” Donny said when she sat up. “Want to come with me?”
“Sure,” she replied, “just give me a minute or two.”
Their half-hour run was followed by a hot shower and breakfast. Lizzie carefully poured syrup over the short stack Donny placed in front of her, then snagged three pieces of bacon to go along with her pancakes.
“What’s on your agenda today?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Pretty much wide open. One of the perks of working for myself - and from home. What about you? Big day ahead?”
She chewed and swallowed. “Yep. Suffice to say Nathan thinks our only suspect is not only not our killer, he’s another target.”
Donny’s eyebrows raised. “That’s quite the leap.”
“I thought so, too,” Lizzie agreed, “but then again, his gut feelings have become a bit of a legendary thing, based on what I’ve heard from the team. So, this should be interesting.”
She took another bite and closed her eyes. “Hmm.”
“I take it you like my pancakes.”
“You keep feeding me like this we’d better damn well start running more. Just sayin.”
He chuckled.
“There are other, more fun ways to burn off calories,” Donny intoned as he wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“Hold that thought until tonight, Romeo,” Lizzie told him, and giggled as she swatted at the hand reaching for her. “I have to be in the conference room ready to go at seven-thirty.”
***
“How was your night?” Nathan asked Grant once he was settled into the conference room a little after eight a.m. “Get any sleep?”
“Not much. Tossed and turned a lot,” Grant answered. “My brain just... it wouldn’t turn off. Still can’t get my head around all this. It’s horrible.”
“That’s totally understandable,” Lizzie offered.
There was nothing Nathan or Lizzie could say to ease the man’s mind beyond that, so they got straight down to business.
“Grant,” Nathan began. “I need you to think back, remember each trip you made. Do you recall se
eing anyone familiar? Anybody that you noticed seeing more than once, especially at more than one of the forts you visited?”
Grant closed his eyes and mulled it over.
“No,” he said at length. “If there was someone following me around, I didn’t notice. Too busy being focused on capturing what I needed for my articles, I guess.”
Nathan made a note.
“You said previously you’d be agreeable to letting us look at your travel receipts.”
“And I meant it,” Grant confirmed with a nod. “I still want to take a polygraph, too. Whatever helps you realize I didn’t do this and helps you find whoever did.”
“So, Agent Zimmerman and I have permission to go to your home and retrieve your receipts and the rifle we spoke about?”
“Absolutely. You’re welcome to look through my laptop and home computer, as well. And I understand why you need to do this. You need to be able to rule me out as a suspect, right?”
Nathan nodded.
“I have nothing to hide, Agent Thomas. You’re welcome to examine whatever you like.”
“Very well,” Nathan answered. “I appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Forrester.”
“I do have one request, if you don’t mind.”
“Which is?”
“Can I make a call right quick? Both Kelly and my mother were expecting me back in Jacksboro last night, and I left my cell phone in my car when I got to Stella’s house. I’d like to just let them know I’m okay and that my trip back has been delayed.”
Nathan pointed to the conference room phone in the middle of the table. “Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks,” Grant said as he dialed Bernice’s number.
“Hey, Mom,” he said when she answered, then paused, and Nathan could tell by his face that his mom had indeed been worried.
“No, I’m fine,” he managed to interject. “Mom. I’m fine. But I’ve had an unexpected delay and probably won’t be back for another day or so. Can you do me a favor? Can you please let Kelly know, too? My cell phone battery won’t hold a charge. Okay. Yes, ma’am. Okay. I love you too, Mom. I’ll keep you posted.”
He hung up with a wince and glanced at Lizzie. “Man, I hated telling her that fib about my phone. But I figured that was better than saying, ‘Hi, not sure when I’m coming back, I’m a guest of the FBI because some whack job is out there impersonating me.’ You know?”
