The silence was broken when Kevin’s phone rang. He pulled over to the side of the road then quickly swiped the display to answer. He knew better than to connect his smartphone to a rental vehicle. The information could wind up anywhere.
“What’s happening?” Kevin asked Colt.
“Our collective guts were on target. Roxbury showed up. He had a dead opossum with him when Troy tackled him.”
“What’s going on?” River unlatched her seatbelt and faced Kevin straight on.
“I’m putting you on speaker.”
“The cops are on the way,” Colt continued.
“Roxbury’s at my place?” River asked.
“He had another gift for you,” Colt answered. “This time we gave him a little welcoming party.”
“Son of a bitch,” River swore. “Has he said anything? Did he admit he killed Dan?”
“He’s been rather quiet for a preacher. We haven’t been able to persuade him to talk. The cops will take him in for questioning. There are too many open questions. Too many similarities to what happened last year.”
Kevin didn’t comment on Colt’s assessment. Questioning someone did not mean an arrest was imminent and if he was arrested, the most they had on him at the moment was a misdemeanor. He’d walk—for the time being anyway. River’s darkened eyes and downturned mouth told him she’d come to the same assumption.
“Don’t suppose either of you laid a hand on him?” Kevin asked.
“Us? We’re law-abiding citizens,” Troy responded. “I can’t help it if he’s a clumsy bastard.”
Kevin smiled. “I owe you guys.”
“We look out for one another,” Colt said. “The cops just pulled up. We’ll see you when you get here.”
“It’s not enough,” River said, as the call disconnected.
“What’s not enough?” Kevin asked, pulling onto the empty road. After her comments at the memorial, he suspected she’d wished his friends had done more than rough up the reverend.
“They were never able to find any connection between my ‘gifts’, as Colt called them, and anyone in particular. Roxbury showing up with a dead opossum isn’t enough to cement a connection. Suspicious as hell, yes, but not proof he was behind the shit that happened. And what about Dan? Will they question him about his murder?”
“They will. Based on Rick’s conversations with the cops up here, they took what happened to Dan personally. They considered him one of their own. Roxbury is going to be the subject of a thorough investigation. Do you trust the local sheriff?”
“I don’t have any reason not to but that still doesn’t mean Roxbury won’t walk out of the sheriff’s office. Unless they find a link between him and Dan’s murder, he’ll be out shortly. Leaving dead animals on my doorstep isn’t going to get him thrown in jail without bail.”
And that was exactly what Kevin was afraid of. “Give them a chance. Give us a chance. If there’s something to find, we’ll find it.”
River dropped farther back into her seat. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“There’s a vote of confidence,” Kevin muttered. Her remark cut at him.
“Sorry. I’m grateful for what you and your friends are doing, I really am. Lately, all of this shit feels endless. When my family was killed, the conviction was finite. The Engleharts where sent to prison. Sure, there were appeals, but the case was ironclad. This feels different—like a racetrack with no finish line.”
He’d seen her down, but never out. “From what you’ve told me about your family and Dan, I don’t think they’d give up. I don’t think you will either.”
“I didn’t say I was giving up.”
“Then don’t act like it.”
36
“Wait here until I see where things stand,” Kevin said, opening the car door. “I want to scope out whether it’s best for you to hang back or be front and center.”
“I want to be face-to-face with the son-of-a-bitch.” She was pissed now. Kevin had prodded her temper and she was glad for it. He was right. She’d slipped into self-pity mode too often lately. She didn’t like it and it did her no good.
They were parked in a stand of trees near her cabin. The two sheriff’s vehicles were easily visible parked in front of her home. There were no flashing lights. The glow emanating from her cabin and the head lights of the vehicles, illuminated the scene. It was enough. She could identify the target of her fury. A thin, reed of a man with dark hair faced one of the officers. She noted his hands weren’t restrained. Why should that surprise her? Who locks up a man for having a dead opossum in these parts? The most they’d have on him was trespassing—unless he was stupid and talkative. Why had the guys even bothered to call the authorities? It was a waste—or had they intended it as a warning?
The other officer, rounder and older than the one with Roxbury, stood with Troy and Colt. Kevin joined his friends. The three men towered over the deputy. River suspected the man had been in law enforcement for quite some time because their size and number didn’t appear to intimidate him.
As much as she wanted to kick the man’s ass, under the circumstances she wouldn’t get within three feet of him if she tried. And since the pastor wasn’t restrained, Kevin wouldn’t be inviting her over to join the party. Annoyed, she sat, studied, and contemplated. She’d never seen him before—she was sure of it. His appearance wasn’t the least bit scary to her. With his hunched shoulders and downcast eyes, he appeared more subservient than menacing. How the hell did the man attract a congregation regardless of its size? From her design and art classes, she’d learned to read body language and this guy was a follower in her opinion, not a leader. He certainly didn’t look like a murderer. She supposed a murderer could look like anyone. They said Ted Bundy was attractive and charming. She’d seen three killers up close, but she didn’t think they weren’t typical, if there was such a thing. They were mad as hatters—Hannibal Lector clones—just not as smart.
She turned her attention away from the suspect and back to the group of men. Kevin’s body language told her he wasn’t happy. His arms flew as he talked then settled, fisted on his hips. She caught the glance in her direction, but his look didn’t linger. Colt clasped his friend’s shoulder and said something to him. Whatever it was, it appeared to settle Kevin, though his stance remained erect and foreboding.
The older officer shook hands with each man, then left to join his partner. Together, the two cops put Roxbury into the back of one of the units. River was done waiting. She slid out of the SUV and was halfway to the cabin when she met up with Kevin. He guided her through the brush with the flashlight he’d retrieved from the glove box when he’d first exited the vehicle. She knew these woods and didn’t need the assistance, but she didn’t object.
“What happened?” she asked. “Is he under arrest?”
“Not yet,” Kevin said, his voice seething with displeasure. “They’re taking him in for questioning.”
“They don’t have cause to charge him, do they?” she asked as they approached Colt and Troy.
“Misdemeanor trespassing and hunting out of season,” Troy said.
“In one breath he claimed he didn’t know he was on your property. In the next breath he called you the devil’s handmaiden.”
“I don’t even know the man.”
“Which brings us back to the Engleharts. What are they feeding him?” Kevin asked.
“I agree,” Colt said. “The question is why? And why now?”
“He sounds delusional,” River mused.
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Kevin pulled her close. His large, warm hands caressed her arms, settling her.
“But there’s nothing to prove, or disprove, what he’s claiming at the moment,” Colt explained. “As for being on your property, you said yourself people have wandered onto it because its location next to the nature preserve. He was carrying a rifle, but that’s not unusual for the area, nor is it illegal.”
Shit, shit and double shit. “All your ti
me, the stakeout, it’s blown. He can recognize you now and knows you’re keeping an eye on me. He’ll be all the more cautious, assuming he’s the right guy.”
“He’s the guy who’s been terrorizing you,” Kevin swore. “But we have to prove it.”
“Now what?”
“We’re going to make a run out to his place while he’s occupied. Check the place out,” Kevin told her. “It will be hours, if not tomorrow, before Roxbury is released.”
“I hope you’re right. Doesn’t sound as if they have much reason to hold him.” Frustrated, she retreated toward the cabin. “I’m going inside. It’s chilly out here.” She wasn’t surprised when the men followed. “Are you seriously going out there tonight?”
“He lives alone. We won’t get a better opportunity and time to search the place,” Kevin said.
“I hope it helps. I’m getting tired of running into brick walls,” she said. “I’ll change clothes and be right with you.” She was still dressed for the memorial.
“You need to stay here,” Kevin said.
“Excuse me? Why the hell would I do that?”
“You’re safe here. Roxbury won’t bother you tonight. He has a big place, and we need to move fast,” Kevin explained. “We know how to get through a search quickly and silently. If you’re with us, that won’t be possible—you’ll be a distraction, one that could be dangerous for us.”
“Besides, we may need you on the outside to bail us out,” Troy smiled.
“I know you want to be there,” Kevin said, ignoring his friend’s attempt to lighten the situation. “But I need you to stay here. Roxbury will be tied up with the police for hours. Those cops didn’t like what happened to you. They know the bastard was up to something. Even if they can’t hold him, they’re going to drag him over the coals for as long as they can.”
“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”
“Get some rest. You said you were tired.”
“Yeah. Right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Like I’m going to take a nap while you’re out breaking and entering.”
“You mentioned it’s not uncommon for people to leave their doors open in these parts,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “There may be no ‘breaking’ involved, if we’re lucky.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts. “I still don’t like it.”
“I know. One of us can stay if it will make you feel better.”
“I’m not talking about me. I can take care of myself. I have a gun and I know how to use it. I’m worried about you—and them.” She nodded her head in Colt’s and Troy’s direction.
He cupped her face in his hands and reeled her in for a kiss. Her skin tingled. Her toes curled. The thrill of it didn’t seem to end, nor did she want it to. A cough from the other side of the room was a cold splash of water.
“Go,” she said, torn between hauling him back for another kiss—and being pissed at being left behind.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have left her,” Kevin second-guessed their decision. Colt was behind the wheel while Kevin rode shotgun. “She could have waited in the truck.”
“And just like you said, she’d be a distraction,” Troy reminded him.
Kevin agreed, yet something niggled at the back of his mind. “How did Roxbury know River would be gone tonight? Hell, how did he even know River was back in North Carolina?”
“It’s a small community,” Troy interjected from the rear seat. “Word travels fast.”
“If he was aware of Dan’s memorial, he could have easily connected the dots. Dan was an integral part of the initial investigation. First on the scene. His unusual connection with River. People here would remember him and know she wouldn’t miss it,” Colt added.
Kevin stared out the passenger side window into the darkness. “We need to talk to the Engleharts again if we can’t get anything out of Roxbury. There’s got to be a link. It’s too big of a coincidence.”
“They’ve been in prison almost fifteen years. Why go after River now?” Troy asked.
“That’s the $750 question, isn’t it?” Kevin let the conversation ruminate in his head for a minute then asked his friends. “What do you think of the timing of Roxbury’s appearance tonight? Was he late? If we’d come straight back from the service, we’d have been there when he arrived. Did he plan to do something more than leave a dead critter on her porch?”
“It didn’t come up while I was tackling him,” Troy said.
“You want to head back?” Colt asked. “If your gut is telling you something, we need to listen to it.”
“This may be our only chance to get into his place. There are a lot of unanswered questions surrounding his visit tonight. We may get some of those answers at his place.”
“I barely had time to glance at the room before Troy called. Did you pick up anything at the memorial?” Colt asked.
“Dan’s son, Jacob, said the night his dad was killed was his second visit to the cabin in two days.”
“Did he say why?” Troy asked.
“He didn’t know. It would be a good idea to have a look at Dan’s phone. Maybe he spoke to someone who could give us a lead.”
“Possibly,” Colt agreed. “Let’s see if we can get our hands on his cell first thing tomorrow. Do you think his son will be on board?”
“He wants his dad’s killers. I don’t see a problem.”
“It might not hurt to check out Dan’s place. There may be notes. He wasn’t just a wildlife officer but a cop before he retired. Old habits die hard,” Colt added.
“The sheriff probably has them, if there were any,” Kevin noted.
“Not if they didn’t understand their significance. We’ll take a look to be sure,” Colt said.
“If Dan saw something peculiar on the property, you two didn’t see it, did you?” Kevin was getting damn frustrated. They were spinning their wheels and getting nowhere.
“Nope,” Troy confirmed. “Nothing was out of the ordinary. With the exception of a lack of food, which was to be expected, the place was neat and clean. I suspect Dan kept it up while she was gone.”
“We may be focused too much on Dan’s trips, or trip, to the cabin,” Kevin mused. “He may have simply been at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”
“It’s always a possibility,” Colt agreed, as he tapped the brakes. They approached a mailbox on the side of the road. Next to it were a pair of tire ruts in the bare winter ground. The tracks led to a group of buildings set back into a stand of trees.
“Is this his place?”
“Yeah,” Colt answered, slowing to a crawl. “Looks quiet.”
They parked in a thicket of trees less than a half a mile from the property. Colt switched off the interior light before they exited the vehicle. They all checked their weapons. No light was needed. They’d done it a thousand times.
“I’ll take the barn,” Kevin volunteered. “You said it appeared to be his base, Colt?”
“Yeah. Troy, check the outbuildings and the grounds. I’ll be in the house. Phones on vibrate. Text if anything develops.”
“We’ll meet at the car,” Kevin suggested.
The three marched out of the woods, separating when they reached Roxbury’s home. The place was dark. That struck Kevin as unusual as Roxbury should have known it would be dark when he’d returned from his mission. His senses notched up another level.
Once they reached the buildings, they silently parted ways. Kevin pulled the massive barn door open and slipped inside. The building had been here awhile. He stilled after closing the door behind him, listening for any sounds. Sounds that would alert him to human or other possible creatures. Once he was satisfied he was alone, he flicked on his flashlight. The place was uncannily neat—the last thing he expected for a barn.
The room was divided into two distinct areas. A cross hung from a loft to his right. Bales of hay lined up like church pews in front of a roughly hewn pulpit. The picture it made was eerie.
Kevin directed his
attention to the opposite end of the building. The rifle Colt had mentioned was no longer in the corner. It was probably the one Roxbury had on him tonight. Two work surfaces were flush against the inside of the barn. Knives, shears and various other tools necessary for hunting hung on the wall above a stainless-steel table. None of those finds were surprising.
A tall, red Craftsman toolbox stood next to the bench. It had a lock, but the genius had left the key in it. Kevin opened the top drawer. Swiftly, he sorted through it and the other drawers. He found nothing out of the norm for any garage or, in this case, barn.
He checked the benches, even searching the underside of each. Nothing. Turning his attention to the other end of the building—the man’s church. Kevin hadn’t asked the name Roxbury had given the group or his ministry. It didn’t matter. It was obvious it was austere. The square bales of hay couldn’t be all that comfortable to sit on for very long. Perhaps it was some sort of penance he required of his flock. There were no hymnals or prayer books. The pulpit was a simple wood frame with no hiding places. Assuming he wrote them down, where did he keep his sermons? He’d like to get his hands on them. However unlikely, their contents could possibly hold a key to this mystery. At the very least, they’d give him an insight into the man.
To the left of the pulpit, a ladder leaned against the loft. Kevin checked its sturdiness before making his way up its rungs. Scanning the loft with his flashlight, he noted a makeshift desk at the far end and made his way to it.
The writing surface was supported by two bales of hay on each side. A weather-worn sheet of wood lay across them. A three-legged, old fashioned milking stool apparently made do as his chair. There were a few items strewn across the improvised desk. A pad from a local dairy market and a couple of pencils. A battery powered lantern served as his lamp.
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