by Liz Bradford
She snapped the folder shut. “Well, this doesn’t mean it wasn’t the same killer. He could have used a different gun. I mean, if he ditched the one that he killed Tom with he’d need another gun to kill someone else.”
“But that wasn’t the only thing they checked.”
“What else could there be?”
“I know we haven’t figured out who Moon’s girlfriend is, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s Marie Bender. I had them test the ballistics against the bullet they found at the Bender’s house and the one from the McDonald’s.”
“And?” Becca rubbed her temple.
“All three matched. Looks like Ross Bender also killed Arthur Moon.”
Becca turned and smacked her fist against the board. It went rolling backwards and rammed into the wall.
“But what about Tom? What am I going to tell Amy?”
Gavin walked closer to Becca. “I’m really sorry. I was hoping it was the break we needed in Tom’s case, too.”
Becca rolled her shoulders back and shook out her arms. “So, now we focus on finding Bender. I’m sorry I stuck you with that case. I know domestics are too close.” The fire in her eyes shifted to compassion.
“That was a fast turnaround.”
“I guess I was trying to convince myself of the connection more than I was seeing it.” She tapped his upper arm. “You figure out the next steps for finding Mr. Bender and I’ll clean up the mess I made of Tom’s board. Then we can add Arthur to Marie’s board.”
“I’ll make room on it.” He left Becca in the conference room and said a quick prayer for her.
Back in the squad room, he fiddled with the pictures on Marie Bender’s murder board. How could anyone ever be so angry they could hurt someone they loved? He understood the desire to hit someone; he wasn’t that even keel. Given the opportunity, he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his hands off of Patrick. He had been ready to slug him in the hallway yesterday for the way he had spoken to Jocelyn. If he had been there on Thursday when Patrick hit her, he’s not sure he would have been able to control his rage. He ran his hand through his hair and let out a slow breath.
A hand rested on Gavin’s shoulder, and he jumped. He turned.
Jared said, “Let’s talk.”
“Yes, sir.”
They headed out of the squad room and down the hall toward the breakroom. His stomach tightened. What did the sergeant want to talk about? “What’s up, Sarge?”
“Nope, not your sergeant right now. Want to talk as friends, as your small group leader.”
Gavin relaxed a little. They turned into the breakroom.
“How are you doing this week?”
Gavin sighed as he gathered his words. “Okay, I guess. Feeling pretty overwhelmed and like a complete failure.”
“Failure?”
After glancing at the door, Gavin leaned against the counter. “Yeah, the whole affair thing. I really screwed up. Guess I’m still feeling the conviction.”
“Conviction or condemnation? Because there’s a difference.” Jared took the back of a chair in his hands and leaned on it.
“Hmm. Never really thought about that. How can you tell? I mean, I did something wrong. I have to deal with that.”
“Yes, and you have. You’ve confessed and sought forgiveness. The Spirit convicts, and He definitely did for you, rightly so. But the devil condemns. He’s going to tell you you’re a failure for your sin, and there’s no hope. Which voice are you listening to? The one that says, ‘You suck.’ Or the one that says, ‘Jesus died for you and forgives you.’”
“Probably not the right one.”
Jared took a seat. “Not if you’re still beating yourself up.”
“But I feel like somehow”—Gavin sat across from Jared—“what’s happening to her right now is my fault. Like I should have stood up for her way before the affair started.”
“Now you’ve lost me.”
Gavin leaned on the table. “Jocelyn.” He closed his eyes. His heart ached just saying her name. “She’s the woman.”
“Ah. Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Really? We tried to be discreet.”
“You were, sorta. I figured it was either her or you did an amazing job of hiding it. After all, as I think back, you two were together a lot and then suddenly weren’t. I can only assume that’s when the affair started.”
Gavin searched his memory. “I guess you’re right. We tried to be inconspicuous and not interact too much here at the station once things got physical.”
Jared shook his head. “I know exactly how that goes. Becca and I weren’t supposed to date back in San Diego, so once things developed between us we switched to overly professional at work, most of the time.”
“What do I do now? I feel like I’m missing something, like I haven’t done all I’m supposed to.”
“Well, have you talked to her yet? Asked for her forgiveness?”
“No, I haven’t.” Maybe that was what Gavin needed to do to bring closure.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jocelyn lifted the camera to her face and took photos of the torn blouse from yesterday’s assault victim, but her mind wasn’t on the task. She shook her head. She needed to concentrate on work, but she couldn’t keep her mind focused on anything. Her thoughts bounced back and forth between what if Patrick beat her again and how she was going to tell Gavin about the baby. She needed the right opportunity to talk to him, but, like Ella said, the perfect time wasn’t going to fall into her lap. When is it the right moment to tell someone he’s going to be a dad?
A knock on the door pulled her attention away from the evidence. Gavin with his crooked smile leaned against the door frame. Her heart tripped over itself. Maybe the right time would fall into her lap. Her stomach quaked. She took in a slow breath and gave him a smile. “Gavin. What can I do for you?”
A serious expression came over his face. “I was wondering if you had a minute.”
Her pulse increased along with her anxiety. She had to tell him. This was as good a time as any, but she wasn’t sure if she could. They needed to be honest about all of it, not just the baby. It had been hard enough to talk to God and her friends, but Gavin, that scared her. “Sure,” she said with the most fake levity she had ever heard from anyone.
His smile returned, and he entered the lab and closed the door. “I know work probably isn’t the best place to discuss the things we need to, but I couldn’t think of anything better. Inviting you over for dinner isn’t wise.”
“Valid point. Although I’m pretty sure Adam would give us space to.”
“True.”
“But we’re here now…”
“Yeah.”
Silence fell between them as Jocelyn avoided eye contact. When she did look up, she saw sorrow deeply etched into Gavin’s face. No smile lit his eyes, and his jaw tight.
A fresh wave of guilt overcame her, and her stomach turned into a row full of skillfully tied sailor’s knots. She had hurt him, had taken advantage of him and then ripped his heart out. Would telling him about the baby be the equivalent of stomping on his heart?
She tried to blink away the moisture that pooled in her eyes. Sitting back on her feet, she put her camera on the floor next to the evidence and pulled off her gloves. She wiped the corners of her eyes.
Gavin came closer and sat on the ground near her. “I’m sorry, Jocelyn. For everything. I took advantage of you. I should never—”
“No, you didn’t. If any advantage was taken it was me of you. I’m sorry.”
His eyes gave away that he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t push it. “We really screwed up, didn’t we?”
“You could say that.”
“I was glad to see you back at church Sunday.”
She gave him a weak smile. “It was nice to be back. I’m starting to realize how good God is. Even though we messed up so badly, He still loves us.”
“His grace and mercy always astound me.”
A bit
of peace washed away some of the guilt. God had forgiven her. Redeemed her soul. But how was He going to redeem this situation?
“Jocelyn, I know Christ forgives us, but will you forgive me?”
She met his eyes. “Of course. And you, me?”
“Absolutely. I don’t know if we can be friends, as close as we were in the past, but I hope one day.”
All she could do was nod. She understood. She didn’t trust herself around him right now. Her feelings for this man were still entirely too strong. But she needed to tell him about the baby. If he wanted to be involved, they would have to be part of each other’s lives forever.
“Gavin…”
“Yeah?”
She couldn’t get her mouth to cooperate. She opened it but nothing came out. “Uh… umm…”
“What is it, Joc? You can tell me anything.”
She bit her lip. “I know. Isn’t that what got us in trouble in the first place?”
He pressed his mouth closed. That’s exactly how it had all begun. He had come by last August to see Patrick, but he wasn’t there, of course. He had moved out months prior. She had been having a rough day and had just gotten off the phone with Patrick. They had argued, as always, so when she opened the door to Gavin with a tear-stained face, he instantly pulled her into his arms and encouraged her to tell him anything. His arms had been strong yet gentle, a feeling she wasn’t familiar with. He had held her without expecting anything in return. His smile and words were kind and compassionate, more ways that made him such a stark difference from Patrick. They had simply sat and talked that day, but their already close friendship had deepened significantly.
Gavin’s strong voice cut into her thoughts. “Yeah, I guess it does all go back to that day that Patrick refused to fix the dryer.”
“Oh yeah, that was it. I had forgotten what that argument was about.”
“What else do you need to say?” He reached out and gently touched her arm but quickly withdrew his hand.
That act helped her relax a bit more. She took a deep breath. “Gavin, I, uh… what I’m trying to say is. The—”
Gavin’s phone rang. She waited. He hit the silent button. “Don’t worry. I’ll check it in a minute. Go on.”
“Well—”
His phone rang again.
“At least see who it is.”
He pulled the phone off his belt. “It’s Becca. She can wait.”
“You sure? This can wait.” At least four more months.
“I’m sure. Anyway, she’ll call a third time if it’s an emergency.”
Her office door flew open. Jocelyn jumped. Henry, the coroner, stood there with a touch of concern furrowing his brow—which for anyone else equated to terror.
Gavin’s phone rang a third time. He answered it.
“Active shooter downtown,” Henry said. “Sniper again. At least one casualty.” Henry disappeared as fast as he had arrived, closing the door as he left.
Jocelyn’s heart seized in her chest. A sniper had attacked Hazel Hill for the second time in a week? She gathered her equipment and put the blouse and other evidence she had been photographing away as Gavin talked with Becca. She put her camera in her bag and heard him hang up.
He was right beside her when she turned. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll talk later.”
She nodded.
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He pulled back, red-faced. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you at the scene. Stay safe.”
He nodded and then was gone.
Her lungs filled with air at last. That affectionate gesture had knocked it out of her.
Gavin took the stairs up from the lab two at a time. He needed to get his head in the game. An active shooter could kill a lot more people. His stomach was a jumbled mess, but it wasn’t because of the sniper terrorizing Hazel Hill. No, he was terrorized by his own actions. Why had he kissed her head? He hadn’t even thought about what he was doing. He had simply reacted. It had felt natural to show her affection. But he shouldn’t have done it. He could kick himself.
“There you are!” Becca yelled across the lobby.
A scurry of activity told him almost everyone had been mobilized to deal with the active shooter.
Becca met him halfway to the front door and tossed him a bulletproof vest. “Rumor has it this is our sniper again, so we’ll be running lead once the active status is dropped.”
He nodded, and they exited the building in stride. He put on his vest as they walked. They hurried into the unmarked sedan, and Becca pulled out quickly into traffic.
“What do we know?” he asked.
“Not much. A dozen or so 911 calls came in saying someone had been shot outside an office building off of Fourth Street. Several of the calls suggested it was a sniper.”
Gavin thought about that area. “There aren’t a lot of spots a shooter could hide.”
They made it to the other side of downtown Hazel Hill in a matter of minutes. Becca pulled up alongside a line of squad cars a block away from the crime scene. They jumped out of the car and headed toward the van that served as the SWAT command center.
The captain met them. “Palmer, Riley, this case is yours officially. Active status has been dropped. Only one shot was fired like on Sunday, and it took out a man right in front of the Rockland Building. Area has been secured; no signs of the shooter yet. Let’s go.”
They followed Captain Baker toward the place where a man in a suit was sprawled out across wide stone steps in front of an office building. Becca started analyzing the victim. Gavin inspected the area, considering where the shot could have originated.
Directly across from the Rockland building was a village green that stretched the entire block. The normally bustling walking paths and benches of the tree-lined park were vacant. On either side of the building were parking lots. There wasn’t a good place within a hundred yards to take the shot. That meant they were dealing with someone who had significant skill. Not your average hunter. One shot implied the shooter hit his mark.
“We’re dealing with an experienced shooter, like Sunday.” Gavin turned to Becca. “Does he have an ID?”
Becca pulled a wallet out of the man’s front pocket, careful not to move the body. She opened the black leather bifold. “Jeremy Fiat. Thirty-eight. Based on this business card, he works for the Carson Architect firm.”
“That firm is in this building. So, are we dealing with a crime of opportunity or one that was planned like Sunday?”
“That’s the question of the hour.”
“The wound in his chest suggests a larger caliber bullet. We’ll know more once we find the bullet and CSU processes the scene.”
“Speaking of CSU...”
Gavin turned to see the crime scene techs approaching. Jocelyn’s eyes smiled at him, although the smile didn’t make it to her lips. She dove right in to taking pictures of the scene as a whole, then came closer.
“Hey.” She saw the wallet in Becca’s hand. “Did you move the body to get that out?”
“Nope. It was in the front pocket.” Becca slid it back into place.
“Okay, great.”
Gavin looked at his partner. “We need to find that bullet.”
“On it.”
Gavin needed his binoculars or scope, but he didn’t have either. “Joc, do you have a telephoto lens on you?”
“I do.” She set down her equipment bag and squatted next to it. After pulling out a second camera and a large white lens, she coupled the two and handed it to Gavin. “Take pictures of the possibilities.”
He nodded and removed the lens cap. He moved to stand closer to where Jeremy Fiat would have been when he was shot, like he had with the binoculars over Ralph Epps. Lifting the camera to his eye, he looked out past one hundred yards. It was a clear day, hardly a cloud in the sky, so that was not a limiting factor. W
hat was a limiting factor was the steady westerly breeze. All that knowledge did was prove the killer knew exactly what he was doing. Gavin had to think like a sniper. If he were the one taking the shot, where would he go?
Down the street to the right was an auto mechanic shop with a rounded roof. Definitely not there, and no buildings stood above it. A glass building was across the street from there at the end of the green. The roof of that building would work. He snapped a picture then saw that it was bank. Nope. Security would be too high. Too hard to get in and out. He rotated his view counterclockwise. The trees significantly reduced the possible hiding places. The leaves on the maple trees were full as one would expect in mid-May.
The hospital was the next possibility as he turned, but it was significantly farther, nearly a half mile away. He took a picture even though was an unlikely place. Moving on, there was nothing directly across from the Rockland Building. The stores and offices beyond the park were all too short. He continued. The next possibility was a brick building about three hundred yards away to the northwest. Another possibility. He snapped a few photos. Anything farther to the left wouldn’t work considering the position Mr. Fiat was in.
“Anyone know what that building over there is?” he asked.
Captain Baker said, “Pretty sure that’s the building that houses Locktight Security.”
“Hmm… doesn’t seem like a likely spot either.” Gavin lowered the camera and stroked his chin. “We’re real limited on locations. I say we check that building and the bank. The only other possibility is the hospital. And if he was at the hospital, he is an incredible shot.”
“Is that a shot you could make?” the captain asked him.
“Yes, but only because I’ve had intensive training in the Army. If he was over there, he would need to have the same level of training I do.”
“I’m not ruling anything out.” The captain radioed to have officers check the three possible locations.
Gavin turned and tried to estimate where the bullet had gone from each of the possible hiding spots. Becca was doing the same, pointing toward the bank then at the ground behind where the victim had been standing. He tried to estimate the angle from the security building.
