Revenge (A Travis Mays Novel)

by Mark Young

  “Fine. Do it all by yourself.”

  She snapped her fingers, catching Sam’s attention, and the two disappeared from the room. He read through Michelle’s family history. Mom and dad deceased. Brother, Phillip, a sergeant in the Marine Corps stationed overseas at the time of her death. He jotted down the brother’s file information. He pulled out his wallet and found Beck Malloy’s business card, dialing the agent’s cell phone.

  “Agent Malloy? Travis Mays here. Look, I’d like to run a name through your data base.” He read Phillip Scarsbourgh’s description from the file and filled the agent in on the brother’s background. “Let me know what you find out about this guy.” He thanked the agent and hung up.

  Several hours later, he finished reading everything and put the files back in the storage boxes without coming up with any new leads. Exhausted and frustrated, he carried each box back to the closet and closed the door. Turning off the light, he walked into the living room and found Jessie curled up on the couch reading a book. Sam lay next to her. The dog perked up his ears as Travis entered.

  “Tomorrow, I’m going to head for the campus to make some phone calls and use the computer. Want to come along?”

  Jessie closed the book. “Sure, I’d like to watch a professor in action.” She reached up and grasped his hand. “You never finished the story, Travis. About Michelle. Unless you’d rather …”

  Sam laid his head down, sighing. Travis sat down, turning toward her. “There’s not much left to tell. We pulled her out of Colville’s business long enough that sending her back in raised suspicions. Or maybe he was already suspicious, and had been watching her movements. Maybe he saw us together. I just don’t know what happened.”

  “Did she want to go back in?”

  “No. Scared to death. She did it because I asked her. She thought I’d keep her safe.”

  “You mentioned last time that this guy wanted to hire her for more that accounting. What did you mean?”

  Travis reached down to stroke Sam’s head. “Michele was a knockout. I mean, men turned to look when she walked by.”

  “So this crook wanted her romantically?”

  “Yeah. She made it clear she wasn’t interested, but the guy just didn’t give up. The first time she left, she told him one of the reasons she was quitting was because he wouldn’t keep his paws off her.”

  “And still she went back?”

  Gloomily, he nodded. “Thanks to me, she agreed to go back one more time. Told the crook that if he’d keep his hands off her, she’d come back. Said she was having a cash flow problem.”

  “What happened?”

  “We couldn’t wire her up for fear they’d find it. She was supposed to go in and just act normal.”

  “They didn’t buy her story?”

  “We thought so at first. Everything seemed to be going along just fine. We couldn’t monitor her very well, and we couldn’t wire the place because we couldn’t get court authorization with what we’d gathered up to that point. Once we got her inside, she was to feed us information and we’d be able to get paper. Search warrant. Wiretaps. The works.”

  “What went wrong?”

  He glanced down, staring at the dog. He clenched his jaw as that night came into focus. “We were waiting outside at the end of the work day. Most everyone in the office left. We waited. She never came out.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Just stayed outside and watched. Later that night, we got a call from the sheriff’s office. One of their patrol deputies found her body dumped along the river near the ocean. Left like so much garbage.”

  “Oh, Travis. How could you have known?”

  “Decent people don’t send those they love into harm’s way.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “The main guy, Colville, came up with an unbreakable alibi. A lot of witnesses in another place said he was with them the entire time. One of his hired killers must have done the job. Never found out who actually pulled the trigger. That night after finding Michelle, I turned in my badge and walked away.”

  A utility van, parked about fifty yards from Travis’s house, shook slightly as the man inside shifted. He lowered earphones, letting the tape run. “You didn’t run far enough, pal,” the man muttered to himself. He’d listened to every word of the story. Dialing a cell phone, he waited until the call went through and a man’s voice came on the line.

  “Got something for me?”

  “Yeah. Confirmation on what you already knew. He just confessed to sending her in and getting her killed. Got it on tape.”

  “Good work. Keep that recording safe. Stay on them until I clear you. Got it?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” He disconnected and pulled a blanket over him. It was going to be another cold night. And it did not look like his targets were going anywhere until tomorrow.

  He placed the headset back on and began to listen once more. Maybe he’d hear a little bedroom music tonight. These two lovebirds were getting pretty cozy. He heard Travis talking to Jessie, and shook his head. He heard Jessie heading for what appeared to be the bedroom, Travis told her he’d take the sofa for the night. He heard the bedroom door close.

  Soon the house was quiet.

  Chapter 44

  Clarkston, Washington

  Shane Foster heard the blast of a horn from another vessel chugging past his sailboat, his boat tethered to a slip in the marina. He stooped in the galley, preparing dinner. Fresh bass he just caught straight from the river. The blast made him jump.

  He’d wired the money to Creasy as demanded, but decided not to run — just hide. He knew Pete Axtell’s murder wouldn’t fall on him, in spite of that ominous recording the cops found.

  Creasy was the killer.

  And that wacko operated beyond the scope of his contracted duties with Foster. The orders were clear — locate Axtell and report back. Nothing about killing the guy.

  It was not his fault Creasy took it to the next level. However, Foster’s attorney warned he could be implicated in the murder since Creasy went after Axtell on Foster’s orders. A weak case, said the attorney. They ought to be able to beat it in court. More money for legal fees down the drain.

  So Foster was staying put. He would stay out of sight until he knew how things were going, hiding comfortably on this sailboat he purchased under an alias.

  No one could track him here.

  As he reached up to close the hatch cover, he saw stars twinkling against a black-velvet sky above. He decided to leave the hatch open and let in fresh air. He could see the dark sky from his bunk. He settled into it and soon fell asleep.

  A creak above Foster’s head startled him awake. He glanced at his watch. 3 A.M.

  He heard another creak. Someone slipping on board.

  Foster reached under his pillow, withdrawing a Smith and Wesson .38 he always carried. He slid from the bunk and worked his way from the cabin, down the galley to the steps leading to the top deck. Now he wished he’d locked the hatch cover.

  The creaking stopped.

  He waited a moment, hoping the intruder would keep moving so he might track the person’s movement.

  Nothing.

  He slowly climbed the stairs. One of the steps creaked under his weight. He froze, listening. Nothing. Cautiously he crept upward. He carefully raised his head to peer around the deck.

  Something hit him in the back of the neck. A jolt of electricity. Then blackness.

  Foster never woke up.

  Chapter 45

  Pullman, Washington

  Sam growled as Kent McPeters marched into Travis’ office. The department chairman whirled to face the dog. “I thought I made it clear — no dogs here.” The man warily backed away.

  Travis struggled to hide his smile. “Oh, sorry, McPeters. Just heading back to Idaho, and I didn’t want to drive all the way back to Palouse to pick up the dog.”

  “Absolutely no dogs.” McPeters repeated. Only then did he see Jessie sitting in the corner. “Oh, good morning, Miss …”<
br />
  “White Eagle, Jessie White Eagle.” She stood, extending her hand. The man beamed until he glanced back at the dog. “Welcome to WSU,” he said. “How’s the case going?”

  Travis stood. “Not good, McPeters. At least two people dead. Not counting three other people murdered who I used to work for.”

  McPeters face tightened. “You’re looking for some kind of serial killer?”

  “I don’t know what we have right now. Did you want something?”

  McPeters glanced over at Jessie before giving his full attention to Travis. “Oh yeah, John Ares wanted to know the next time you’re on campus. Saw your truck parked in the lot, so I gave him a call. He’ll be dropping by any minute.”

  “Hey, I really don’t have —”

  “Make the time, Travis. Must I remind you how important this is to the school? And when are you going to get a cell phone, a pager, something from this century so we can reach you when we need to?”

  “I’ll get right on that, McPeters.” Travis saw Jessie smiling. Ares walked up behind McPeters.

  “Harassing the staff again, McPeters?”

  The department chairman whirled. “Uh, Mr. Ares. Just telling Travis you wanted to drop by.”

  “Well, I guess he knows I’m here. You’re dismissed.”

  Travis saw McPeters flush, then try to chuckle. “Well, you gentlemen take care. See you around, John.”

  Ares grimaced as McPeters left the office. “Pencil pushers. Detest them.” He noticed Jessie in the corner. “Sorry, lady. Just call them as I see them.”

  Travis came around the desk and stood near Ares. “John, this is Jessie White Eagle. We’re … working together on an investigation.”

  “That’s what I’m here about.”

  “Really?”

  Ares leaned on the desk. “I hear things in that case took a turn for the worse. Several people dead and that agent killed. I wanted to offer any help my company might be able to give. We have analysts and profilers on staff. I’d be more than willing to have them come in and take a look at what you’ve collected. Try to figure out where this killer might strike next.”

  “I appreciate your offer, but —”

  “Not to mention our surveillance capabilities.”

  “We’re not budgeted for those kinds of services.”

  Area waved his hand. “This will be on the house. If we’re successful, the publicity will be worth its weight in gold.”

  “I’ll have to pass right now, John. Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. I would have offered earlier, but I don’t know how to get a hold of you. No cell phone, pager, anything?”

  Travis laughed. “McPeters was just on my case for the same thing.”

  Jessie laughed. “He’s a dinosaur, Mr. Ares. Wants to hide in the woods and be left alone.”

  Ares eyed her. “I bet he’d come running if you called.”

  Something about the way the man looked at her made Travis wince.

  Jessie seemed oblivious.

  For the first time, Travis felt Sam leaning against him. The dog was standing, silent, the hair on the back of his neck bristling.

  Ares glanced down at the dog. “Wow. Think I’d better go. That dog doesn’t look all that friendly.” Ares turned and disappeared down the hallway.

  Jessie knelt by the dog. “I’ve never seen him like that.”

  Travis watched her stroke Sam’s head. The dog seemed to relax. “He just needs to get back to the mountains. First, McPeters and then that guy. Time for him to run free.”

  Jessie stood, grinning. “Two peas in a pod. Come on, time for all of us to go home.”

  As Travis gathered his things, he thought of what she had just said and realized he liked the sound of those words. Particularly the way she said them.

  Time to go home.

  Chapter 46

  Clearwater River east of Kooskia, Idaho

  Travis saw flashing emergency lights flicking ahead from a parade of deputies’ vehicles parked along the roadway. Travis tightened his grip on the steering wheel when he realized the cars were across the highway from his cabin.

  Jessie, seated on the passenger side of his truck, sucked in her breath. “Oh, no. What happened now?”

  He slowed down to a crawl until a deputy motioned him to stop. He rolled down the window as the lawman approached. “What happened, officer? I live right over there.” He pointed at the cabin just visible through the trees.

  The deputy gave him a hard look, and glanced over at Jessie. Suddenly, the deputy’s attention shot to something behind Travis. He glanced in the rear view to see what caught the deputy’s eye and saw Frank White Eagle pulling up in his car, lights flashing.

  Frank’s voice called out in the darkness. “Deputy, that’s my daughter in the truck … and a friend of mine.”

  The deputy relaxed and returned to directing traffic.

  Frank leaned into the car. “Just got a call from Steele. They found another one.” He nodded his head at the mountain slope above them. “This time the killer dumped the body just above your house, Travis. It’s time to get Jessie out of here.”

  Travis nodded, glancing over at her. She did not look pleased.

  “Where am I supposed to go, Dad? This guy could be anywhere.”

  Frank leaned against the door, his jaw taut. “Right now, this killer has his sights on Travis. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

  “I know you mean well, dad, but I need to make my own decisions. Right now, I feel safer with Travis.”

  Travis knew Frank was probably right and he did not want to make another mistake. He would not be able to bear it if any harm came to Jessie. “How’ bout we find out what happened here. Then we can decide?”

  Frank stepped away from the door as Travis climbed out. He heard Jessie’s door close. She came around to join them. He saw Steele working his way across the road toward them. Sam poked his head through the open window.

  “Stay, boy,” Travis said, stroking Sam’s head. The evening air was beginning to cool. He heard the sounds of the river below, almost muffled by the sounds of police activity.

  Steele approached, nodding first at Frank and then to the others. “We got an ID on the body. Shane Foster. The guy in the video with Pete Axtell.”

  “And the body?” Travis asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Same as the others. Arms spread, palm up, legs together. It’s like the killer staged the body just for you. Some sick twisted message telling you the killer’s got you in his sights.”

  Steele scratched his shoulder, shaking his head. “And we came up with something on Brian Wyatt’s finances. We traced $50,000 wired to an offshore account just before his murder. It looks like the contract killer took care of loose ends. Wanted to make sure Wyatt didn’t spill the beans.”

  A thought suddenly struck Travis. He leaned against the truck for a moment, dizzy. “John, were you able to make copies of the lab reports and coroner’s reports on Tommy’s death?”

  “Sure. They’re in my trunk. I was just bringing them over to Frank’s office.” He walked over to his unmarked, opened the trunk and withdrew several files. He slammed the trunk closed and walked back to where Travis and the others waited. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks,” Travis said, taking the file and grabbing a flashlight laying on the dash of his truck. He flicked on the light and laid the files on the hood. He opened one file containing lab results on Tommy’s body and clothing. He leafed through the document until he came to the page he needed. He scanned down until he saw the list of what had been analyzed. His stomach tightened.

  Jessie touched his arm. “What’s the matter?”

  He shook his head. “Just a hunch. We need to get over to my cabin to check on this. I hope I’m wrong.” He opened the door to his truck, letting Sam leap to the ground.

  Travis led them to the cable that ran across the river. He pulled the seat to him, whistled to Sam, and the two of them traversed to the far bank. He
sent the chair back and waited until the other three made it to his side of the river.

  Once they were all gathered, he led them into his cabin, still carrying the flashlight. He flicked on the overhead lights and glanced around the room, finally focusing on a large throw rug in the middle. He pulled the chairs off the rug, knelt down, and rolled the rug into a tight cylinder. Placing the rug to one side, he flicked on the flashlight and used its illumination to cast a direct beam of light across the timbered floor.

  He clenched his teeth as the light lit up three bullet holes, in almost a perfect triangle. The wood around the holes was freshly splintered, the floor recently scrubbed clean.

  Travis slowly rose to his feet.

  Frank edged forward. “What is it? Why are we here?”

  Travis pointed to the holes in the floor. “This is where he killed Tommy.”

  Chapter 47

  Steele ordered a secondary search team dispatched to start processing the cabin. Travis waited on the porch with Frank and Jessie for the team to arrive. He felt Jessie brush against him, her arms embracing herself like a person trying to hold things together. He gently put his arm around her.

  He no longer cared what Frank thought.

  Steele looked frustrated. “I’ve got to tell you, Travis. I haven’t a clue where this case is going. All I know — everything points to you.”

  Travis felt Jessie shudder. He said, “My guess is he wants to save me for last. Somehow it is tied with Michelle’s murder, the only common link. But why all the guys in law enforcement? One of the crooks actually killed her.”

  He heard a phone ring. Frank reached into his pocket and withdrew his cell phone. The older man answered, his eyes shifting toward Travis. He held the phone out. “It’s Beck Malloy.”

  Travis pressed the speaker button to allow the others to hear. “Beck, I’ve put you on speaker. John Steele and Jessie are here with Frank and I.”