The Closer He Gets

by Janice Kay Johnson

  He’d certainly been younger than Zach’s mother, who at the time was... Zach had to count back. Thirty-five, he decided. But then, as he’d noticed since, Mom liked men of all ages.

  Nolte didn’t remember, as well, what Sam Doyle had said, except that he’d been outraged at any suggestion he’d be sexually interested in a girl, far less willing to kill her.

  “He’d had girlfriends,” the sergeant said. Something in his tone told Zach he was shrugging. “Seemed normal. You know? Again, no hint he could be a pedophile.”

  “What about neighbors? Older teenage boys who’d have seen Sheila playing outside?”

  Nolte and his partner had knocked on doors, asked around, but hadn’t come up with anyone of interest.

  “Have you asked to see a copy of the police report?” he said a little testily. “All of this would be in it.”

  “I haven’t yet, but Bran did and got the runaround. He wondered if it might have gone missing.”

  “Huh. If you like, I’ll ask for a copy.”

  “I’d like.” Zach set aside his notepad. “Thank you, Sergeant.” He gave him his phone number and mailing address, and said if he thought of anything else to please call.

  After setting the phone aside, Zach did some concentrated thinking. He needed to tackle this as he would any other investigation. One advantage of having been there was that he remembered a couple of his mother’s good friends. Neighbors, too. He’d track down as many people who’d been close to the family as he could. There might have been a pedophile living a block away. The intervening years made investigating a challenge in one way, but in another way they gave him an advantage. He could find out where life had taken all those people. Who had been arrested, convicted, fired from jobs.

  His mother could have had other lovers, but the few times he’d tried to talk to her about it, she wouldn’t admit to any. Instead she’d wept, as if he was committing the worst kind of betrayal.

  There might have been whispers about Dad and other young girls. Would Bran have told him? Zach wondered. Or would people have whispered out of his hearing?

  He and his brother could team up and make this go faster...but he found himself speculating on why Bran had never opened a serious investigation, despite being right here in town.

  He’d been damn defensive about their father. Because he had a niggling—or even a solidly based—suspicion he’d rather not acknowledge, even to himself?

  It was possible.

  That meant Zach would go it alone, at least until he felt more trust than he did yet in his brother, the stranger.

  * * *

  FOR ONCE, IT wasn’t the sound of her phone ringing that awakened Tess. Straining to hear the faintest sound, she lay utterly still. The drumming of her own heartbeat filled her ears. She was afraid an intruder could hear it from across the room.

  Oh, God. What if someone was in the house?

  Nobody was in her bedroom, she knew that much. What little light leaked through the blinds was enough for her to make out the chair still braced under the doorknob.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Fear felt like an electric shock. She rolled to stare at her window. That had sounded like...fingers tapping.

  A hard knock, knock, knock followed against the glass.

  She jackknifed to a sitting position, her hand pressed to her mouth to stifle a scream.

  Her telephone rang and she couldn’t help crying out.

  She snatched up the phone, never taking her eyes off the window. She absolutely did not want to answer.

  The closet. She could wedge herself into the corner...

  And what? Attack whoever found her there with the highest, sharpest heel she had? Why hadn’t she been smart enough to bring something to bed with her that would serve as a weapon?

  Ring.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Tess sucked in a deep breath. She pressed the screen of her phone. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to say, with some facsimile of coolness, “This is really tiresome, you know.”

  “You’re meeting with the new cops tomorrow. You’re going to be confused. You were so shaken up, you don’t remember what you said that first day. This time, you won’t lie. You understand, bitch? You better, because we can get to you anytime.”

  She heard another tap, tap, tap on the window. The scratching sound of something scraping across the glass made her shudder. Her teeth chattered.

  Finally, a hard wham made the window vibrate.

  She found herself on her feet beside the bed. On the far side of the bed from the window, for what that was worth. She didn’t dare open her bedroom door. If one of them was at her window, only a few feet away from her, what if someone else stood, even now, in her hall, waiting for her to burst out?

  Despite her promise to Zach, Tess had made the sensible decision not to call him just because there was another threat. The worst that had happened was the slashed tires. She really believed what she’d told him: an assault on her wouldn’t achieve anything.

  But quaking in the dark of her bedroom, waiting for the glass to shatter, being sensible quit seeming smart.

  With her hand shaking, it wasn’t easy to find Zach’s number, but she managed.

  Please answer, please answer. Please, please, please.

  “Tess?” He said her name, hard and urgent.

  “Somebody is right outside,” she whispered. “Rapping on my window. I’m scared.”

  “Jesus. I’m on my way. Stay on the line with me.” Rustling sounds made her think he was throwing on some clothes. A door slammed. Then he asked, “Did you call 911?”

  “No.” Oh, God. He could probably hear her teeth chattering. “I will.”

  “Forget it. I’m faster.”

  * * *

  “THERE ARE FOOTPRINTS outside your bedroom window, Tess. Broken branches on that shrub, too.”

  “It’s a viburnum carlesii.”

  No big surprise that Zach looked at her as though she was nuts. Who cared what shrub grew beneath her bedroom window?

  “It’s probably too much to hope he was stupid enough to have had bare hands when he tapped on your window.”

  “You think it was Andrew Hayes.”

  He was pacing the length of her living room, his long strides eating up the distance in seconds. Tess had never seen him anything but athletically graceful. Tonight, the way he swung around was jerky. Fury showed in every line of his body.

  “I don’t know. Would you have heard if the man talking to you on the phone was right outside your bedroom window?”

  Tess clutched her completely unsexy fleece bathrobe tightly around her. She had settled in a glider, out of Zach’s path. She kept it in motion with one foot on the floor but the rocking was jerkier than normal for her, too. So much adrenaline.

  “I think I would have. I mean—” she couldn’t help shuddering again “—he couldn’t have been ten feet away from me. I’ve been in my bedroom and heard neighbors talking on the other side of the fence even though my window was closed.”

  He had paused briefly, his jaw clenching as he noticed her distress. “Then there are at least two of them.”

  “I told you I’m pretty sure the voices on the phone haven’t all been the same.”

  “Yeah. Shit, Tess. They took a big risk tonight.”

  “You mean, if I’d called 911 right away and a patrol car happened to be close by.” She bent her head. “That’s what I should have done, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.”

  He came to crouch in front of her, bracing his forearms on his thighs. He wasn’t wearing socks, she saw in some weirdly disconnected part of her brain. He probably hadn’t bothered with underwear, either, unless he wore it to bed. She had a feeling he didn’t.

  “It’s a waste of t
ime to ask yourself what you should have done.” His blue eyes compelled her. “It all happened fast, didn’t it? Maybe took no more than a minute? What are the chances a Clear Creek officer would have arrived that quickly? And, if he had, that he’d have caught anyone?”

  “He might have taken off if he’d heard me talking loudly to a 911 dispatcher.” Another thought occurred to her. “If I’d already been on the phone, I wouldn’t have answered the call.”

  “I’m not sure that would have been a good idea, Tess.” Lines deepened on Zach’s forehead. “I’ve said that before. If they can’t terrorize you with a phone call, they’ll find another way.”

  She shivered. “They did.”

  “Damn it!” He rose fluidly to his feet, pulling her up with him. For the second time tonight she found herself securely enclosed in his arms. For the second time tonight she succumbed to temptation.

  When she’d first let him in the door, he’d yanked her into his arms after saying only one word: her name. She had held on for all she was worth. He’d been breathing hard, his heart racing.

  This felt just as good. Just as safe. It was spoiled only because Tess hated being the little woman clinging to the manly guy who had come to her rescue.

  Until the past couple of weeks, her greatest fear had been of her father having that second stroke she knew was inevitable.

  She was the one to hear a car pulling up outside. When she stirred, Zach let her go with what felt like reluctance.

  “It might be better if you weren’t here,” she suggested for a second time.

  “You don’t think they’ll notice the pickup in your driveway?”

  “It could be mine,” she pointed out.

  “They can check DMV records easily enough. No, Tess. We have no reason to hide the fact that you contacted me when the threats started.”

  She nodded because it was too late anyway. She could hear a heavy tread on her front steps and porch just before the doorbell rang.

  Still clutching the robe close, she let the police officer in.

  Balding, probably in his early fifties, he wasn’t even her height, but was so solidly built Tess guessed he’d be very hard to bring down.

  “I’m Officer Parish.” His brown eyes took in first Tess then Zach standing protectively behind her.

  She held out a hand. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I’m Tess Granath.”

  Zach was a little slower to offer his hand. “Sheriff’s Deputy Zach Carter.”

  They all went into the living room, where Tess asked if he knew about her previous calls to the Clear Creek PD.

  “I’ve heard. You believe this is connected to the fact that you’re a witness to the death of the illegal Mexican.”

  She bristled. “I fail to see how Antonio Alvarez’s country of origin or his lack of paperwork has any relevance to his murder.”

  “I didn’t mean to suggest it does, ma’am. Truth is, I couldn’t recall his name. That’s all.”

  Tess relaxed. “I’m sorry. I’m feeling a little defensive.” A lot, actually. “And tense,” she added. Understatement, anyone?

  “Let’s start with you telling me what happened tonight,” he suggested.

  Zach stayed silent, letting her describe the terrifying sequence of noises and threats in her own way.

  “Deputy Carter wasn’t here when any of this happened?” Officer Parish asked.

  “No. I called him because he knows about the other threats. He’s...taken it upon himself to protect me.”

  It bothered Tess that she couldn’t tell what Officer Parish was thinking about their relationship. But did it really matter? What the new team of investigators and then the DA thought would matter, but Tess was feeling combative.

  She had told Detective Delancy the truth and nothing but the truth. The first time she had ever set eyes on Zach was when she’d seen him leap out of the patrol car and sprint across the lawn toward Hayes in an attempt to prevent him beating Antonio to a bloody pulp. Nobody would be able to prove any different.

  Her statement tomorrow when she met with Detective Clayton and his partner from Stimson wouldn’t change. She hadn’t forgotten a single second of the most horrifying scene she’d ever witnessed. She relived it every night.

  She stayed inside when the two men went around the side of the house with flashlights to inspect outside her window. Waiting, Tess had the disorienting realization that she had no idea what time it was. Midnight? Four?

  She didn’t bother to reach for her phone to check. Even if dawn was hours away, she wouldn’t be going back to bed.

  Would she ever feel safe in her own bedroom again? Maybe...maybe she should go stay with Dad for a while. Being afraid to stay in her house would be a good excuse. She could take care of him and he could enjoy feeling protective.

  Except...what if someone actually did break in and her father was hurt? Plus, she’d have to tell him what had been happening. The doctors had recommended he avoid stress.

  Her current lifestyle definitely couldn’t be described as low-stress, she thought hysterically.

  She heard the two men talking as they came in the front door. Officer Parish didn’t sit again.

  “Someone will be back in daylight to get some pictures,” he said. “We’ll check your window for fingerprints, too.”

  Zach walked the officer to the door, locked it behind him and then returned to the living room.

  “It’s three-thirty. Why don’t you go back to bed, Tess?”

  “All I’d do is lie there staring at the window.”

  “I’ll be here. No one is getting in this house, and if your phone rings again, I’m answering it.”

  “What?” She gaped at him. “You can’t be seen leaving here in the morning.”

  “I can and I will.” That implacable expression was familiar. “We can talk tomorrow about security measures. In the meantime, you have to be exhausted.”

  “Adrenaline isn’t exactly a sleep aid,” Tess said wryly.

  “Can I get you something?”

  “You mean a sleeping pill? I don’t have anything like that.” And wouldn’t take it if she did. Under the circumstances, the idea of being dead to the world held no appeal.

  “I was thinking herbal tea. Cocoa. Wine?”

  Tess shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  After frowning at her for a minute Zach rolled his shoulders, stretched both arms toward the ceiling, groaned and sank onto the sofa. “Okay. I’m still not leaving you alone.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to argue. “Thank you,” she said after a minute. “Um, if you want coffee or something—”

  He shook his head. “What time’s your appointment tomorrow?”

  “You mean today, don’t you? Eleven. Is yours today, too?

  “Two o’clock. I’m kind of hoping the DA will have chosen to involve herself at this stage, too. I know the case has been assigned to Christine Campbell. I checked her out. She’s a senior criminal deputy attorney, which means they’re pulling out the big guns.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve been here long enough to know anyone in the office.”

  “No. I called Bran. He thinks she’s okay, but working well with local law enforcement agencies isn’t necessarily a good indication for us.”

  “No. But it’s not like we get to pick and choose.” Tess hesitated. “Will she be the one to make the decision whether to prosecute Hayes?”

  He waggled a hand to indicate there was a possibility. “I’m sure she’ll consult with her immediate boss, and my guess is something like this will go all the way to the top. The prosecuting attorney is a guy named Troxell. Joseph Troxell. He’s up for re-election in November.”

  “The Hispanic vote has to be really significant in this county.”

  “It is. I’ve
heard he leans to the conservative side, though.”

  “A conservative should be strong on law and order,” Tess said indignantly. “Not letting a murderer skate!”

  “Hey.” He smiled crookedly. “I agree with you. I’m just saying he’ll be weighing which side brings him an electoral advantage.”

  “You notice how little coverage there’s been in the news so far?”

  His mouth tightened. “Oh, yeah.”

  “If they don’t charge that creep, I’m going to raise a huge stink,” she told him. “So be prepared.”

  Zach tipped his head. “I’ll be cheering you on.”

  Her spine stiffened. “But not doing the same?”

  “I can’t unless I quit my job.”

  “Because of the way they’re pressuring you?”

  “No, because individual police officers are not allowed to speak out at will. A designated spokesperson represents the department. The chief or sheriff will be behind the podium for press conferences. Only occasionally is a deputy or detective allowed to answer questions.”

  Of course he was right. And quitting his job so he could speak out on behalf of Antonio would be a drastic career move.

  “I understand,” she said.

  The silence was almost comfortable. Tess rested her head against the cushion, giving an occasional push with one foot on the floor to keep up a slow rocking. She didn’t look at Zach.

  “Once we’ve given our statements tomorrow, there won’t be any point in threatening me, will there?” she asked.

  “My guess is we’ll be interviewed repeatedly. Certainly by the DA if she’s not sitting in on tomorrow’s meetings. Leading up to trial, if it comes to that, she’ll spend more time with both of us, too. Tess...it won’t be over until Hayes is convicted.” Zach sounded grim. “Witnesses frequently recant before a trial. If he is convicted, his friends will be pissed. It’ll be a condemnation not only of him, but of the way they conduct themselves as officers, too. You’d better not go one mile over the speed limit when you’re on county roads. The response time might be really slow if you call 911. There are any numbers of ways to make you pay.”