Innocent Target

by Elisabeth Rees

  Ryan frowned, unhappy with Frank’s choice of words. Kitty wasn’t a wayward animal to be brought under control. She was a human being, acting irrationally because she loved her father.

  “Let’s go, Buzz,” Frank said, leading his grandson to the door. “I’m sure our new chief deputy has got a lot of work to do.”

  The four residents filed from the station, leaving Ryan to contemplate just how he was going to broach this subject with Kitty. Shane was already one step ahead of him.

  “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, trying to persuade Kitty Linklater to drop her investigation,” he said. “She won’t take kindly to you telling her what to do.”

  “I don’t intend to tell her what to do. I just need to remind her that she has a responsibility to be kind to the community. They’re hurting.”

  “She’s hurting, too, boss. And people in pain tend to lash out when cornered.”

  Ryan rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. That was exactly what he was worried about.

  * * *

  Kitty walked around her house, checking that each window was closed and locked. She fingered the Band-Aid covering the cut on her forehead, pressing down the sides, feeling a bruise settling there.

  On top of her worries about her attacker, she was also anxious about Ryan moving in to the apartment. She kept telling herself that his presence would be reassuring, but a more powerful emotion niggled away: dread. For months she had been increasingly rejected by a small but vocal section of the community. Most of the town was holding its peace on the issue, but those few voices kept getting louder—and there was no one actively on her side, speaking up in her defense. As a result, she’d become ever more reclusive, avoiding town functions and special events. But now she would possibly be forced to confront the hostility that she expertly evaded in her daily life. Ryan was quite open about his belief in her father’s guilt and the more she considered this fact, the more it bothered her. For a lawmaker, he was closed-minded and biased, not willing to even consider that the jury made the wrong call. Of course, she knew why. A man who’d lost his sister to a murderer at the tender age of nine would never trust the word of a convicted killer. She would simply have to live with his prejudiced mind and try not to let it bother her.

  She entered the living room, jumping at a streak of black in her peripheral vision.

  “Oh, Shadow,” she said in playful rebuke, seeing him walking along the windowsill outside, crying to come in. “Why don’t you use your flap like a normal cat? Okay,” she said, opening the window. “Come on in and get dry.”

  He snaked through the window, walked onto the piano and shook himself over her, causing her to laugh and brush herself down. Then she reached for the handle of the window to close it up.

  But someone was waiting for her.

  A hand stretched up from below and firmly clasped her wrist, pulling her forward. She reacted instantly and instinctively, yanking her arm from side to side as if to shake off a spider. She looked for any indicators that would help her identify this man, but Kitty could see only a limb, an arm that belonged to a man hidden in the bush below.

  Using her other hand, she pulled the window shut while simultaneously wrenching her arm inside. The frame caught the hairy limb of her attacker and he howled from below, losing his grip and pulling back, allowing her to fully shut the window. She secured the latch, turned the lock and ran from the room, snatching up her cell from the hallway table along the way.

  She could hear the door being rattled as she fumbled in her pocket for Ryan’s number.

  “Ryan,” she said breathlessly when he answered. “Somebody’s here again. He’s trying to get in.”

  “Stay calm and I’ll be there soon.”

  A bullet came through the front door, slamming hard into the wall just yards away. She screamed.

  “He’s shooting!” she cried.

  “I’m on my way right now,” he promised. “Do you have a gun?”

  She ran up the stairs. “Yes, it’s in my bedroom.”

  Another bullet zinged through the air behind her, finding a vase on the table and shattering it into pieces.

  Ryan clearly heard the commotion. “Get your gun, stay upstairs and barricade yourself in your room. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t be afraid to shoot, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Hold tight.”

  She gasped, remembering that Shadow was still in the living room. Without hesitation, she ran back down the stairs, screaming as another bullet pinged through the door, just missing her shoulder.

  “Shadow,” she called. “Where are you?”

  He immediately ran to the sound of her voice and she scooped him up into her arms. Then she turned and raced back to her room, as a pounding foot came down on the wooden door from outside, pummeling it.

  Reaching her bedroom, she fled inside and slammed the door. After placing Shadow on the floor, Kitty used all her force to drag her dresser across the entrance, wondering if it would be enough. She figured the front door must have given way when she heard a loud bang resound through the house, and then footsteps run through the downstairs area.

  “Please hurry, Ryan,” she muttered, dragging her bed across the rug to give her barricade extra strength.

  The footsteps stopped. Her noise had revealed her location. Now her attacker would surely be coming for her. She slid open the top drawer of her low dresser and pulled out her black handgun, checking the bullets in the chamber. The man was there, outside her room, rattling the handle, trying to force it open.

  “I have a gun,” she shouted as a warning. “And I’m not afraid to shoot.”

  Silence.

  Was he still there? Her heart was in her mouth as the seconds ticked by.

  Then he began to kick the door, sending her dresser skipping forward a little each time. She raised her gun, aimed it at the door, closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger. Her bullet went right through the door, leaving a perfectly circular hole.

  The kicking ceased. Had she hit him? Was he injured or worse? She repositioned the dresser securely against the door and waited. Shadow seemed to understand the danger and had hidden himself away beneath the bed.

  The sound of a siren wafted in the distance. Kitty dropped to her knees with a groan of thanks. Immediately, she heard her attacker’s footsteps pounding down the staircase, scurrying away. As the siren grew louder, she gained enough confidence to heave the bed, then the dresser away, from the door and squeeze through the gap. From the top of the stairs, she saw the front door off its hinges lying on the hallway floor, pounded into pieces.

  As she stared at the open doorway, it filled with Ryan’s figure, gun in hand, concern etched on his face.

  “He’s gone,” she said.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, biting the inside of her lip and blinking fast. She wasn’t okay and it didn’t take Ryan long to work that out. He holstered his gun, raced up the stairs and enveloped her in a hug, telling her she was safe, that everything was fine.

  That kindness prompted the tears to really flow.

  * * *

  Ryan helped Buzz lift the new door from the delivery truck. The door Ryan had selected was strong and robust, much more secure than the old one and likely to withstand a barrage of bullets and kicks without giving way. Shane was inside the house, collecting the bullet casings for analysis, and Ryan desperately hoped that ballistics might give them a lead because his search of the area had yielded little more than some muddy footprints leading to the forest.

  Buzz eyed the old door, in pieces on the deck. “What happened here?”

  “Somebody tried to get in to the house,” he said. “To hurt Kitty.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine for now.”

  Buzz pushed his baseb
all cap farther back on his head. “When I took your order over the phone, I had to tell my granddad I was delivering to someplace else.”

  “Why?”

  “He says we’re not to sell to Kitty anymore. He says we don’t want her business.”

  “Well, you tell your granddad that this delivery is for me, because I live here now. I just became Kitty’s new tenant.”

  Buzz seemed taken aback. “Granddad’s not gonna like that.”

  “I kind of guessed he wouldn’t.”

  Ryan motioned for Buzz to help him carry the door up the porch steps and onto the deck, where he leaned it against the outside wall.

  “I can take it from here,” he said, signing Buzz’s delivery sheet. “Thanks for your help.”

  “No problem, sir.”

  Kitty came out onto the porch, carrying her cat under her arm. “Hey, Buzz,” she said. “Does your granddad know you’re here?”

  “No, ma’am,” he replied. “But when Chief Deputy Lawrence called in an emergency order, I just went and found the door you needed from our warehouse and brought it straight on down to you. I’m not really supposed to work this late.”

  Buzz puffed up his chest as if proud of himself for defying his grandfather’s rules.

  “I appreciate that,” Kitty said with a warm smile. “Not many people around here would put themselves out for me.”

  “Maybe,” Buzz said with a shrug. “But if we can’t help a lady in need, then what’s the town coming to?”

  Ryan put a hand on Buzz’s shoulder. That comment revealed maturity and a sense of decency in this young man.

  “You’re a good kid,” he said, sliding a tip into his top pocket. “It’s a shame that your granddad doesn’t follow your lead.”

  Buzz nodded a shy farewell and made his way back to the truck.

  “What’s the story with the Price family?” Ryan asked Kitty. “What happened to Buzz’s parents?”

  “Buzz’s dad is Tommy Price,” Kitty replied. “Frank and Sheila’s only son. He took off when Buzz was in the first grade, leaving him with his parents.” She looked skyward, appearing to be doing some mental calculation. “I haven’t seen Tommy in about thirteen years now. Frank says he moved to Texas.”

  “What about Buzz’s mother? What happened to her?”

  “Elena was a girl from out of town, a drifter who sometimes stayed at a commune in the mountains and did casual work around Bethesda. After Buzz was born, she left pretty quick, giving Tommy parental responsibility. She never came back. It was a sad situation. I remember my mom offering to help out, but the Price family is proud. They didn’t want anybody prying into their business.”

  “Well, I gotta say that someone’s instilled good principles into that kid,” Ryan said. “He’s nothing like his grandfather.”

  “I think Frank’s wife, Sheila, is the one to thank for Buzz’s character. She’s like a mom to him, but they’re both bullied by Frank. He’s a strong personality.”

  “He sure is,” Ryan said. “He came marching into the station in a fit of temper this morning.”

  Kitty groaned, placing Shadow on the ground and leaning against the wall. “Let me guess—it was in response to my newspaper article.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  “Well, they needn’t worry,” she said. “That’ll be the last one I write for the Comanche Times about my father.”

  Ryan was incredibly relieved. Perhaps Frank and Carla would be appeased by this news.

  “Listen,” he began, watching a swift swooping over the lake. “You’ve made some enemies in town by investigating a murder that’s already been solved.”

  “It’s not been solved,” she said. “Because the wrong man is in prison.”

  He concentrated on tracking the swift, its undulating flight mesmerizing and calming. He would have to tread carefully with Kitty, not allowing his frustration to cause friction between them. But there were things she needed to hear.

  “Kitty,” he said, in what he hoped was a gentle, nonpatronizing tone. “Your dad had a lawyer who already did this kind of work for him. There was a police investigation and a full jury trial. If your father’s lawyer couldn’t generate reasonable doubt, what makes you so sure that you stand a better chance?”

  “The court-appointed lawyer was useless,” she replied, remembering how disappointed she had felt upon first meeting him. “He kept trying to persuade Dad to plead guilty and take a deal. He never believed in his innocence.”

  Ryan couldn’t help but agree with the lawyer. “Taking a deal would probably have been a smart move.”

  “I know that you’re not on my side in this,” she said with obvious derision. “But I wish you’d keep your opinions to yourself. I don’t need the negativity.” She rubbed her temples. “This is hard enough already.”

  How hard did she think it was for the family of a murder victim? Kitty had no idea of the pain and suffering he had gone through, knowing his sister’s last moments were likely filled with pain and fear. Just like the family of Molly Thomas, Ryan’s family was also serving a life sentence, forever changed by that single devastating event. By denying that justice had been served for the Thomas family, Kitty was condemning Molly’s parents to relive the murder over and over. It simply wasn’t fair.

  “I just want you to think about what you’re doing,” he said. “You’re a young woman with your whole life ahead of you, and I don’t want to see you waste it on a pointless fight.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and crinkled her brow. The Band-Aid on her forehead was beginning to peel at the edges and he resisted the urge to smooth it down with his thumbs.

  “I’m not wasting my life,” she said defensively. “I’m standing up for the truth, and even if it takes me fifty years, I will prove that my father didn’t kill Molly.”

  Kitty’s bullheadedness was maddening and Ryan felt he was fighting a losing battle. “Your investigation is putting you in danger,” he said.

  “I know that,” she snapped. “Molly’s real killer wants to eliminate me.”

  Ryan wondered if they might both be right. Kitty’s attacker had clearly shown his willingness to kill. This went beyond someone just venting anger or aggravation at her—the man wanted her dead. Maybe he really was afraid that she’d uncover evidence against him. Not that Ryan thought Harry Linklater was innocent, but perhaps Harry had killed Molly with the help of an accomplice. That would certainly give someone a very big incentive to stop Kitty’s investigation. Was Harry protecting the identity of a possible partner in crime? And was this person now determined to hide his involvement in the murder? It was a plausible line of inquiry, but Ryan knew he could never voice this theory to Kitty. She wouldn’t accept any explanation that didn’t fully clear her father.

  “Whatever the motives of your attacker,” he said, diplomatically, “you’re in grave danger, so surely it makes sense to ease off the investigation until we catch this guy.”

  “No!” Did he just see a little stamp of her foot? “I’ll be going to see Harvey from the Starlight Bar tomorrow to question him about his witness testimony. I want to know why he lied. Every time I’ve tried to talk to him, he’s shut me out, but I intend to make sure he acknowledges me this time.”

  “You can’t harass someone like that,” Ryan said in exasperation. “If Harvey doesn’t want to speak with you, then you should leave him alone.”

  “For a law enforcement officer, you sure are closed-minded.”

  That comment stung. “I am not closed-minded,” he said. “I’m able to see this situation from an impartial perspective.”

  “No, you’re not,” she retorted. “How can you be impartial when your sister was murdered just like Molly was? That fact will always affect your judgment.”

  He fell silent and Kitty did the same, a look of horror creeping across her face.


  “I’m really sorry, Ryan,” she said quietly. “I should never have brought up your sister, but I feel so strongly about my father’s situation.”

  He was deeply disappointed that she had referenced his sister in the same sentence as her father. The names Gina Lawrence and Harry Linklater should never be placed side by side. One was an amazing girl cut down in childhood, and the other a convicted killer who should remain forever in a prison cell.

  “We might need to learn to set some boundaries, huh?” Kitty said awkwardly. “Because we’ll never see eye to eye on this.”

  “Right now, I’m more concerned with fixing this entrance and making you nice and secure,” he said, heaving the door across the deck and into place. “I’ll get on with this before I get an official statement from you. So in the meantime why don’t you think about what happened today and jot down any details you can remember? We should build a profile of the guy and try to come up with a list of suspects.”

  “Sure, I’ll leave you to it.”

  Ryan opened his toolbox and lifted out a screwdriver. He clenched the handle in his fingers, gripping tightly and letting the resentment flow out. Kitty had no clue how to set boundaries. She was incapable of seeing the truth, determined to win this battle at all costs, even her own life.

  That short conversation had revealed a deep division between them, an insurmountable barrier that he had no idea how to bridge. Living here was going to be not only dangerous, but fraught with emotional difficulty.

  THREE

  Kitty awoke in darkness, certain that a bang had sounded outside. Reaching for her bedside lamp, she flicked the switch. Nothing. She had no idea of the time, but judging by her gritty eyes, she had been asleep for only two or three hours at most. She had taken an age to fall asleep the previous night and was exhausted, but adrenaline now flooded her tired body with energy. The power was out. Had her attacker caused it?