by Liz Bradford
Becca reached across placed a hand on his. “We’re sorry to say, but there was a shooting at the Rock Creek Plaza today, and Sylvia was shot.”
The man’s shoulders slumped. “She didn’t make it?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but no.”
“I heard about it on the news on my way home from work, but I didn’t think…”
Gavin wished he could console the man somehow, but he was at a loss for words.
“The news said there were two victims. Was she with him?”
Gavin asked, “Who do you mean, Mr. Callahan?”
“The man she was having an affair with.”
“Was she having an affair with Eddie Morris?”
“I don’t know who he was, I just knew something was going on.”
Becca said, “I’m so sorry.”
Red lights went off in Gavin’s mind. This man had motive to shoot his wife and her alleged lover. Becca spoke up before he could. “I’m sorry to ask this, Mr. Callahan, but do you own a rifle of any kind?”
“No, ma’am. I hate guns, hate the idea of hurting any living creature. I understand what you’re asking, and you are off-base.”
“But do you have any experience hunting, sir?” Becca’s voice was soft, and her tone kind even though her words cut through and the intention of her question was clear.
Pill bottles on the desk caught Gavin’s attention.
“No, I’m a vegan. I don’t even eat animals, let alone kill them.” Mr. Callahan’s hands shook even more as his voice rose.
This man didn’t do it. “May I ask another question, of a personal nature?”
Mr. Callahan turned toward him, his eyes stern.
“Do you have Parkinson’s disease?”
The man’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh. “I do.”
“Thank you.” Gavin scooted forward in his seat and, without looking at Becca, changed the subject. “Can you tell us about your wife? What made you suspect she was having an affair?”
Mr. Callahan proceeded to tell them about his wife’s inconsistent stories and late nights. She had not taken his diagnosis well, so he wasn’t surprised or even angry that she had stepped out on him. He was hurt but not angry.
He willingly answered the rest of Gavin’s and Becca’s questions, and, a half hour later, the two detectives left. Once they climbed into the car, Becca said, “Why did you so quickly dismiss him as a suspect?”
“Because he has Parkinson’s disease. It would be impossible for him to make those shots.”
“How do you know he was telling the truth about that? Maybe his hands were just shaking because he was nervous.”
“Didn’t you see the prescription bottles on the desk behind where we sat?”
“Yes.”
“Well, one of them was for levodopa, and that is a medication used to manage the symptoms of Parkinson’s.”
“Sometimes I forget about your eagle eyes! But how did you even know that?”
“My great uncle had Parkinson’s, and when I was a kid, I spent a lot of time with him when he was in the nursing home. I loved hearing his stories about World War II.”
“So, who would want to kill Sylvia and Eddie?”
“That’s the question of the hour.”
They rode back to the station in silence, but Gavin’s mind wasn’t silent. If Sylvia and Eddie were having an affair, who would care if her husband didn’t? Maybe someone else who had been hurt by an affair. Ross Bender had already proven he could kill two people as a result of an affair. Could he be behind these murders too?
Jocelyn’s eyes darted back and forth across her screen as she drove the cursor around, resizing and getting the precise measurements. Becca’s comment earlier about her black eye had Jocelyn following a hunch. Not one she really wanted to pursue, but what choice did she have? She wouldn’t be a good crime scene investigator if she didn’t follow her hunches. So far, she hadn’t come up with anything conclusive, nothing worth mentioning anyway.
Somebody knocked, and Jocelyn jumped. She spun around in her chair. “Hey, Adam.”
“Jumpy much?”
“I was focused. You aren’t ready to go yet, are you?”
“Not if you’re not,” he said. “Have you had any time to get measurements on the women’s wounds? Can you confirm it’s the same guy?”
“Been working at it. Nothing conclusive yet. I’ll let you know when I know either way.”
“Okay. Also, Becca ordered an exorbitant amount of Chinese. Says we should join them for dinner in the conference room.”
“Sounds good.” She glanced at her clock. How was it after six already? She logged out of her computer and left with Adam.
“How you holding up after everything today?” He held the door out of the lab open.
“It’s been a rough one,” she said. “Just before the shooting I was telling Becca about Nikki, so I was already spent. And then the threat. My mind keeps spinning that around. Who’s being targeted? Is it someone in particular, or could any of you be at risk?” Her heart sped up, and anxiety made her stomach burn.
Adam put his arm across her shoulder. “I hear ya. I wish I knew. But we have to trust God. Pray He’ll keep us all safe. And pray that Gavin and Becca figure out who it is before he can strike again.”
She leaned into Adam, took a stabilizing breath, and prayed for peace. Her heart quickened again as they entered the detective’s squad room. She immediately started scanning for Gavin. What was she doing?
Adam chuckled. “He’s already in the conference room.”
Her eyes darted over to her cousin.
He laughed, and she shook her head. She hated being so obvious. They walked to the conference room, and she spotted Gavin. Her heart skipped. He was leaning back in his chair and held a plate full of Chinese food. As soon as their eyes locked, he sat up so fast he almost lost his plate to the floor. She suppressed a chuckle.
“Hey.” He stood.
“Hey.”
He pulled out the chair next to him. She sat, and he grabbed her a plate. It wasn’t unlike him to dote on her, but this was over the top, and it felt strange in front of their friends. But she knew him. He was probably scared out of his mind with everything going on, and he was compensating for the fact that he couldn’t hold her.
“Thanks, Gavin.”
He slid the food within her reach, and she dove in. Light conversation floated around her. She fought an internal battle to avoid looking at Gavin.
The captain came into the room as she was finishing her egg roll. “You guys have a report for me?”
Jocelyn finally let herself look at Gavin as he sat up straighter. “We were able to confirm that Eddie Morris and Sylvia Callahan were having an affair.”
“And there’s no way the husband is involved?”
“I’m positive he didn’t pull the trigger, but I can’t one hundred percent rule out any involvement. I highly doubt he was, though. Mr. Callahan was cooperative and didn’t seem angry about the affair.”
“Palmer, you concur?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“All right. Anything on the note?”
“Lab is processing it,” Becca said.
They continued talking, but Jocelyn stopped listening. The forensic wheels in her head started turning. So that’s two of the victims having affairs… What about Jeremy? And why did his name seem familiar?
The next day, Gavin picked up the stone off of his desk and turned it absentmindedly. The Wednesday morning sun was shining brightly into the squad room, but his mood did not match the brightness. They needed a break in the case. Who was terrorizing Hazel Hill? The streets had been disturbingly quiet this morning. It seemed most people were opting to stay indoors despite the sunny, seventy-degree weather. And he couldn’t blame them. Stay out of the sniper’s crosshairs at all cost.
“Gavin”—Becca’s voice softly floated across their desks—“one day, I want the story behind that rock. You don’t seem the sentimental ty
pe.”
He held the stone up. “One day, I’ll tell it to you.”
“Maybe a distraction from this case is what I need right now.”
He laughed. “I guess now’s as good a time as any. Especially since you already know about Nikki.”
“All right, so spill it.”
“Well, about two months after Nikki died—”
“Excuse me, detectives.” One of the officers who worked at the front desk stood next to a woman he recognized from church. “This is Ellen Hockenberry. She would like to speak with you regarding Ralph Epps.”
The woman hung her head, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Gavin stood, as did Becca. “I’m Detective Gavin Riley, and this is my partner, Detective Becca Palmer. How can we help you?”
She didn’t looked up at him. “I know who you both are from church.”
“I thought I recognized you,” Becca said.
“Is there somewhere more private we could speak?”
“Absolutely,” Gavin said. “Let’s go to the conference room.”
Becca led the way, and Gavin followed Ms. Hockenberry. The three settled around the conference table, and Becca asked, “How can we help you, Ellen? You knew Ralph?”
The woman wrung her hands in her lap. What was she so nervous about?
“Well,” she said, “yes, I knew Ralph. Quite well, in fact.” She took another deep breath.
Both detectives waited. She’d talk when she was ready.
“Oh, this is so awkward. I didn’t realize you two were the detectives on the case, although I guess I should have. This is so embarrassing, but… Ralph and I were having an affair, have been on and off for the last few years.”
Her hands wouldn’t stop moving. Her wedding ring shimmered in the sunlight.
Becca asked, “But you’re married?”
Ellen nodded.
“So why are you coming to us today?”
“I was wondering if you still had his personal affects. I gave him his watch, and I know he was wearing it that day. I would like to have it to remember him by.”
A simple watch. But this could be a significant lead in the case. They now knew two of the men who had been killed had been having affairs with married women. Would it be the same for the second victim?
Becca’s words interrupted his train of thought. “I think we can get that for you.”
Gavin agreed. “Let me see if I can get that for you now.”
“Thank you. I would appreciate your discretion, as well.”
“Of course.” He patted her shoulder before leaving the room and heading to the evidence locker. He juggled the idea in his mind as he walked. What significance would it be if all the targeted men had been having affairs with married women? Could this be the motive behind the whole shooting spree? Did that mean the note was meant for him? Did he have a big target on his back?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
By Wednesday afternoon, Jocelyn still hadn’t been able to identify why Jeremy Fiat’s name sounded familiar, and it was driving her crazy. In attempt to confirm her suspicions, she pulled up Patrick’s Facebook account. She scrolled through his friends list.
“That’s it!” she shouted to her empty office. Patrick and Jeremy were friends. Drinking buddies. This fact added to her growing confidence in a hair-brained theory developing in her mind. It was all clicking into place.
She closed the Internet browser and went back to the pictures she’d been analyzing. There was a definite match, and not just with the two from Adam and Amelia’s case. There was a third match.
She knew in her gut she was right. About it all.
She grabbed the pictures she’d printed and hurried upstairs. She had to find Gavin. He needed to stay in the station.
Her heart pounded as she ran into the squad room, eyes darting back and forth. Where was he? He wasn’t in the conference room either. Her hands started to shake. Her stomach was in knots.
“Jocelyn.” Adam was coming toward her, his eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?”
She couldn’t catch her breath. “Where’s Gavin?” She set the pictures down on Gavin’s desk.
“I think he and Becca are out following up on a lead.”
Her chest felt like it was going to collapse.
“Jocelyn,” Adam took a hold of her shoulders, “take a deep breath and try to calm down.”
She tried.
“Let’s text him and see where he is.” Adam pulled out his phone, texted Gavin, and Amelia came over and put a hand on Jocelyn’s back. The steady hand of comfort from her friend helped her breathe.
A reply text came in, and Jocelyn jumped. Adam read it. “He’s walking into the station now.”
Jocelyn took off, swung the squad room door open, and paused. As soon as she saw Gavin coming through the front door, she took off running again. All discretion fell to the wayside as she threw herself into his arms. He wrapped them around her like a warm blanket on a cold day. Comforting the anxiety out of her heart. He was safe. She squeezed him. The baby balked at the pressure and gave her a swift kick in the ribs, and she shifted her body.
Gavin took her by the shoulders and searched her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I just realized something about your case and Adam’s case.” She took a deep breath. “It’s Patrick.” She grabbed his hand and urged him toward the squad room, but he wouldn’t move.
“What are you talking about?”
She turned. “Let me show you.” She tugged on his hand. He followed, as did Adam and Becca.
Jocelyn went over to the rolling white board on which Gavin and Becca had been working their case and pulled it partway across the room. Then she grabbed Adam and Amelia’s board and dragged it over to meet the other one.
“What are you doing?” Gavin asked.
“Just look.” The one on the right held the faces of the four sniper victims, the one on the left, the pictures of the two pregnant women who had been “randomly” attacked. “Your cases are connected.”
“How could they be?” Gavin crossed his arms. The rest of the detectives, including the sergeant and the captain, joined them.
“Do you see it? He’s been beating pregnant women like me. I’m victim number one.” She took one of the photos off of Gavin’s desk—the one of herself—and put it on the board with the pictures of the exact measurements of the knuckle marks. “All three of these women have matching wounds. And this first one is me.”
Everyone stared at her. No one needed to voice what she was implying. Patrick had hit each one of these women.
She continued. “Now, what have you found out about these guys? Were they all having affairs with married or otherwise-attached women?”
“How did you know? We just confirmed that about the last one this morning.”
“Because it’s him, Gavin. And he’s going to try to kill you. He’s just working up to his main goal. When he killed the first two, he didn’t know it was you, but now he does. Hence the threat.”
Gavin looked like a catatonic deer in a semi’s headlights. Then he shook his head. “But the profiles are totally different for the two cases. On one hand you have a calm, cool, calculated attack, and the other is totally spur-of-the-moment rage.”
“Just like the Patrick we’ve always known. Totally relaxed one minute and then thrown into a fit of anger for no apparent reason the next.”
No one argued with her. Patrick had the skill to do this. He had the motive.
The squad room was quiet. Each of her friends stared back and forth between her and the board.
Becca twirled her hair. “But Ross Bender is also a suspect. A skilled hunter. His motive is the same—his wife had an affair. Why would it be Patrick over Ross?”
Jocelyn shifted on her feet. “Could Ross have made that shot from the hospital? We know Patrick could have.” She added, “Plus, not a single attack in either case happened while he was in lock-up over the weekend.” Her heart raced, but her mind was focused. All doubt was
gone from her mind. Patrick was the sniper.
Gavin swallowed the bile that wanted to expel itself. Jocelyn was accusing her husband of murder. And he completely agreed with her conclusion. While Ross was a viable suspect, Patrick was even more so. Gavin hated thinking it was true, yet deep in his gut he knew she was right. Patrick was capable of murder, and not just because he had the skills.
The captain’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I’m inclined to believe you, Jocelyn, but we have to have proof. And after what happened last fall, we don’t dare go get him on simple probable cause. I want evidence more solid than granite. If he didn’t do it, he’ll take us to court and get us all on the early retirement plan. And if he did do it, I don’t want him getting away on a technicality. No reasonable doubt.” The captain went back to his office.
Becca said, “Okay, talk this through more. I’m seeing it, but explain: what makes Patrick a viable suspect in either case, let alone both?”
Gavin stared at the boards. “As far as the sniper, he clearly has the skill needed to make that nearly impossible shot from the hospital. Very few could make that. Ross is skilled too, but according to his neighbor, who I called again this morning, he missed a ten-point buck that was four hundred yards away last season. I’ve seen Patrick hit a mark at over a thousand yards.”
“So why didn’t you put Patrick forward as a suspect from the first day, Riley?”
Becca’s words cut. But the accusation he heard was not in her facial expression. “Because I didn’t want to think he could do this.”
Becca nodded.
His gaze wandered to Jocelyn, who stood two feet away. He grabbed the chair from his desk and rolled it to her. “Sit.”
She gave him a slight grin and obeyed. “As far as the sniper case, the only thing I can’t figure out is how he knew about Ralph’s affair or Eddie and Sylvia’s.”
“What about Jeremy Fiat’s?” Gavin asked.
“He and Jeremy are drinking buddies. The only thing I remember Patrick saying about him is that he liked to brag. So safe to say he was bragging about his affair.”
“Hmm.” The sound of Becca typing on her computer brought his attention to her. “What are you looking for?”
