Line of Fire Read online

“Possibly.” I shrugged. “But what I meant was that in the imprint on Millard’s shirt, Bremer mentioned a cousin. Cody Beckett and I both think Millard looks like the attendant at the gas station. Maybe Millard was heading there for help and ended up at Cody’s instead.”

  “Cody’s place is at least a mile away from the gas station, maybe two,” Greeley said.

  “There’s not much else out there,” I pointed out, “so it should be easy to find where the stabbing took place, if Millard was on foot.”

  “My best detectives are on it,” Greeley said. “They’ll find something.”

  “How long have Millard and Kirt been in the area?” Shannon leaned against the wall. The bruise on his face was darkening, looking worse than it had in the truck.

  Greeley shook his head. “Millard hasn’t been here long from what we’ve been able to tell. The attendant has worked at that station for a couple of years, I think he told me this morning. Part time. I figured he was in college or something.”

  “We need to find him.” Huish pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it, scowling when he read the message. Whatever it was, he didn’t share.

  Greeley started back down the hall. “I’ll call the hospital about Millard and check with Levine to see what he’s come up with. Could be he’s found him by now.”

  “Where does Kirt live?” I asked Huish as Greeley disappeared.

  “We don’t have a warrant.”

  His reluctance frustrated me. “Well, it’s not a crime for me to walk up and knock on the door, is it?”

  “How about we just get a warrant?” Cross said. “He’s missing, he was shot earlier, and he could be in danger, right? That’s enough.”

  Irritation tinged Huish’s face. “We don’t need a warrant. We need to find the man.”

  “We might find a lead at his place.” Cross’s gaze was challenging.

  “Okay.” Huish glanced at his phone, his expression distracted. I wondered if something was happening at home.

  The adrenaline I’d been running on since the attack outside the midwife’s building was all but gone. My cheek hurt, my ribs ached, and I could feel a lump as big as half a grapefruit forming on my thigh. I was also hungry again.

  Worse, I was still no closer to finding Jenny or discovering Cody’s secrets.

  Greeley had reappeared in the doorway. “Millard’s taken a turn for the worse. Our guys haven’t seen anyone suspicious there, but the doctors suspect some kind of poison. They found a patch on his leg. Wasn’t there earlier when they took him into surgery.”

  So the drug cartel had tried again, this time with a more subtle method.

  “Will he survive?” Huish asked.

  “They don’t know yet. I’ve doubled the guard. Two in the room at all times. We do have good news, however. We’ve located the boot.”

  I straightened my shoulders, my aches seeming to fade.

  Everyone stared at me. “You ready to look at it?” Cross asked.

  “Absolutely.” It was time for answers.

  “Where was it?” Huish asked.

  “Down in one of the evidence lockers. Apparently someone misfiled it after the FBI finished their examination.”

  Misplaced. Shannon and I exchanged a look, which told me he was as skeptical as I was. But that would mean someone had deliberately sabotaged the investigation, and I couldn’t imagine anyone I’d met here so far wishing Jenny ill. Maybe it really had been misfiled.

  Huish sighed. “Who found it?”

  “Jeraldine.”

  “That explains it. I went to the woman’s house once. Never saw any place so orderly. What about Levine? Did he find any leads at all?” Huish’s tone implied that he didn’t expect much from Levine.

  “No, but the other guys found a rental house they believe Weston Millard might have been using. There’s blood on the doorknob. I sent Levine out there to help search it.”

  “Great.” Huish looked at me and motioned down the hall. “Shall we get to the boot?”

  “What about the warrant?” Agent Morley asked.

  Huish stopped in mid step. “Will you fill in Detective Sergeant Greeley on the particulars of the warrant so he can get it started? We’ll meet you in evidence.”

  Greeley didn’t look happy about having to work directly with the FBI special agent, but he didn’t question his commander.

  The rest of us followed Huish to a room where a broad African-American woman stood at a window with a box big enough to hold several pairs of boots. Huish signed for the box. “Thanks, Jeraldine.”

  “No problem. I told them several times to look there when they called me to see if I knew where it was. Everyone in evidence must be blind. It was the first thing I found when I came in to work tonight.”

  “We’re glad you’re on top of things.” Huish led us away to a table opposite the window. “No one should be coming or going too much tonight. I think we can look at this here.”

  It was all I could do not to rip the box from him in my eagerness to solve the mystery of who’d taken Jenny, but at the same time I was fighting the urge to run. If she’d been assaulted while wearing the boots, or even murdered, any imprints I found might be horrifying. I sat down in the solitary chair at the table in case I passed out. Less chance of falling and cracking open my skull.

  Huish brought out the boot and set it on the table. Light brown suede, unblemished except for a dirt smear above one heel. There was nothing else in the box, and I realized how little the commander and the FBI had to go on. No wonder they hadn’t found her, and no wonder they hadn’t protested more at my involvement. They were desperate.

  Huish stood on my left and Shannon on my right. Cross edged around Shannon and watched almost across from me. I reached out a hand, and tingles shot into my flesh, signaling a strong imprint. I let one finger drop onto the boot.

  I hate them. I hate them. Maybe if I thought it enough, they’d get the hint. Maybe they’d change their minds about the boots. I didn’t want the black Mary Janes. So what if they were part of my school uniform? It was unfair to make me wear them when I wanted these boots instead. They felt so soft. I wouldn’t even have to break them in like the black pair or the other tan ones I already had. And these were much nicer than the gray ones they bought me last week.

  “Issy, take them off now. That isn’t what we came here for.”

  Mother. She didn’t remember what it was like to be thirteen. If I didn’t get these boots, I’d never be happy. Couldn’t she understand that? “I want these boots.”

  “Not today. We need the Mary Janes. We really can’t afford both right now. These are expensive.”

  “I hate the Mary Janes. They’re awful.”

  “Take the boots off now, or I won’t let you go to Jacob’s party tomorrow.”

  I blinked as the imprint ended. Strange how logical the thoughts had been when I was experiencing the imprint, but as my own awareness reasserted itself, it was hard to believe such a selfish child existed. I was happy her mother hadn’t bought her the boots.

  “Well?” Shannon asked.

  I looked up at him. “This isn’t Jenny’s boot.”

  Chapter 14

  What?” Greeley barked. He’d apparently passed off the warrant to another detective before rejoining us, along with Agent Morley. His face had grown pale. “Her parents identified it.”

  “You heard me,” I said. “There’s only one imprint, and it’s not hers.”

  “Is it possible Jenny didn’t leave an imprint?” asked Agent Cross.

  “I’m sorry.” I stood, hating the feeling of everyone staring down at me. “I didn’t make myself clear.” Sometimes it was hard to remember what I’d told people and what I’d experienced. “The imprint here was from a girl who wanted the boots quite badly, but her mother wouldn’t buy them. It happened yesterday.” Cross knew as well as I did that Jenny’s boot had been found and examined days ago.

  “You can’t tell who bought it?” Shannon asked.

  I
shook my head. “Either they didn’t leave an imprint or they wore gloves.” Nothing that would have been noticed this time of year. “If the young girl who tried them on yesterday hadn’t left an imprint, I wouldn’t be able to tell it isn’t Jenny’s boot. I would have simply thought she hadn’t imprinted on it and that when she’d left it in the woods, she hadn’t been under any stress.”

  “We’ll get the parents in.” Huish’s mouth had a grim set to it. “See if they made a mistake.”

  I understood that he couldn’t take my word for it, but I knew someone not only replaced the boot but had done it because of me. The FBI and the sheriff’s office had finished with the boot, so someone had replaced it after I’d shown up in case I’d read something incriminating. But who? And what were they trying to hide?

  “If she’s right, commander,” Cross said, “you have a problem here.”

  “A problem I’m going to take care of.” But Huish’s voice and expression had lost power. I wondered if that was because he was afraid of what his investigation would reveal or because he’d rather be home with his sick wife.

  “Greeley, I want you to get out to that house with Levine,” Huish said. “I want you supervising.”

  Will he really supervise, or will he destroy evidence? I thought. But countering my dislike of the man was Huish’s trust and Shannon’s comment about his dedication.

  “Yes, commander. I’ll let you know the second we find anything.” Greeley’s voice was harsh and determined.

  “I’d like to come along,” Cross said. “This is now related to the kidnapping.”

  “It’s my case,” Greeley retorted.

  Cross met his gaze steadily. “Not entirely.” Did Cross not trust him either, or was she only reminding him that she ultimately had jurisdiction? Perhaps she simply cared about finding Jenny.

  At a hard look from Huish, Greeley nodded. “You can follow me.”

  Huish’s gaze transferred to me. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to go along. You’ll have to promise not to touch anything until our guys collect the evidence we need.”

  Shannon snorted. “You don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell her that.”

  Traitor, I thought. “Actually, I’m more interested in the clerk’s house,” I said aloud. “I already know who stabbed Millard and that Millard is involved in drugs. But I doubt Jenny is at that house or we would have heard from Levine by now. If Kirt’s related to Millard, he can tell us more, or if he’s not involved, he might be able to direct us to those Millard was working with.”

  “The warrant is going to take some time,” Greeley said, “but both addresses are in Hayesville, so you might as well come along.” He said it grudgingly, as though hoping I’d turn him down.

  “I bet Millard knew something about the kidnapping,” Shannon said. “Could be why Bremer was mad enough to stab him.”

  I gave Greeley my best smile. “Thank you for the invitation, detective. We accept.”

  “You can ride with us,” Agent Cross said. Her offer gave me more credibility, so I agreed.

  “So,” I asked Shannon in an undertone as we followed Cross and Morley out into the cold, “do you think one of the sheriff’s deputies is dirty?” I blinked my left eye, trying to make it feel more comfortable with Tawnia’s contact. Ever since we’d returned to Salem, the eye had been bothering me.

  He shook his head. “More likely someone paid one of the clerks to get to the boot.” He hesitated. “You’re sure, though? About it not being Jenny’s?”

  I scowled. “Don’t tell me we’re back to that again.” Back to him not quite believing. Or was he accusing me of lying? No, he knew I didn’t lie. And yet now that the idea had come into my mind, I had to admit there had been times when I didn’t tell him everything in an imprint, especially one of his own.

  “It’s a disappointment, that’s all. An imprint on the boot could have told us a lot.”

  I let out a steadying breath and thought about removing the bothersome contact in my eye. It was dark enough that no one would probably notice. Then again, the detectives and FBI agents were trained in observation. The contact had to stay.

  Fifteen minutes later we pulled up at a small house a mile southeast of Cody’s place, built at the edge of his property, in fact. My stomach growled to remind me it was hungry again, but thankfully no one seemed to hear.

  Detective Levine was waiting out front for us on the snow-covered drive when we arrived. He grinned almost shyly at me before looking away. “The houses to the south of here are closer than Beckett’s. It doesn’t make sense that he would go through the woods unless Beckett’s involved.”

  “Unless he was trying to get to the gas station,” Shannon said.

  Levine shrugged. “Awful long way to go. Three miles at least, I’d say, from here to the gas station.”

  “Where is the Vandykes’ house in relation to here?” I tried to peer though the darkness, but nothing except fields and trees met my view.

  “Directly west of here,” said Cross, motioning behind me. “About a mile.”

  I wondered if the FBI listed good directional skills as a job requirement. If so, that cut me out.

  “Any trace of Jenny Vandyke inside?” Greeley asked Levine.

  “Not at first glance. But they’re fingerprinting, so maybe we’ll find something.” Levine paused before adding, “This is all unincorporated land out here. Nothing really to see.”

  Inside there wasn’t much to see either—besides the blood in the kitchen and hallway. I recognized the place from Millard’s imprint, but he hadn’t given much attention to the sparseness. All the basics were present in the old two-bedroom house—beds, dressers, table, couches, but everything had a sense of age and belonging. The only odd thing was that in the one of the bedrooms, the single bed had been pushed on its side and leaned up again the wall.

  “The furniture came with the house, didn’t it?” I asked Levine after my rushed tour.

  He nodded. “Rented furnished. The old couple who lived here died a few years back, and their son’s been renting it out to people looking for solitude. Said he had a couple writers and a painter. Millard’s been here six months.”

  “Did Millard tell the owner why he wanted it?” Shannon had donned rubber gloves like everyone else, except me, and was going through a kitchen drawer.

  “Nope. He got the impression that Millard was a little shifty, though. He wasn’t all that surprised to hear from us.”

  Agent Morley rolled his eyes. “And he still rented it out?” He shook his head. “What people will do for a little money.”

  I drifted away. The kitchen looked rarely used, and if I was to have any luck, I’d have to check the bedroom and bathroom. The detectives, however, had beaten me to the rooms, bagging anything of interest. Fingerprint dust was everywhere. I took that as permission to begin combing for imprints.

  I learned a lot about the older couple who lived here. They had loved, laughed, fought, prayed, and raised their four sons, becoming best friends. They died within weeks of each other—she first and he following shortly from a broken heart, as least according to their son, who’d left an imprint on the bedpost as he watched his father pass peacefully into his final sleep. I wondered what it would have been like to be raised in such a traditional family. I never knew my grandparents and had only recently met my one surviving biological grandmother.

  Why weren’t there any imprints from Millard? I could find absolutely no imprint saying he’d ever been in the house.

  I went back to the kitchen and touched Shannon’s shoulder. He turned. “You find something?”

  “I don’t think Millard ever actually stayed here.”

  “Well, there is the blood. Isn’t this the right place?”

  “Oh, he was stabbed here, but he didn’t leave imprints. I bet you anything it was simply a storage place for whatever illegal activity he’s up to. Drugs, probably.”

  Shannon nodded. “That would explain why there’s nothing in the frid
ge but a six-pack of beer and some takeout growing so much mold it’s probably almost sentient.”

  Agent Cross looked up from where she was examining the largest blood stain. “We’d better test for drugs. But if they were here, someone’s moved them.”

  Levine gave a disgusted sigh. “They would have had to do it almost as soon as he was stabbed. We didn’t find a cell phone on him, so he didn’t call anyone. How did they know?”

  “The same way they knew he was at the hospital.” I scanned the room to see if there was anything I’d missed. “We’re lucky they didn’t torch the place.”

  “Maybe we just beat them here.” Levine swaggered a bit, pushing out his chest awkwardly. “At least we have proof that this is where our vic was stabbed.”

  Greeley entered the room, his nose red with cold, a bloody knife dangling between two gloved fingers. “Look what I found in the bushes out front. I think we have our weapon.” His eyes grazed mine, as if in challenge.

  I wanted nothing more than to ignore him—I certainly didn’t want a direct line into the mind of an attacker—but too much was at stake. “If there’s an imprint on it, we might learn why Bremer stabbed him.”

  Greeley shook his head. “Got to get it to forensics first. Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all. Mocking was the better word.

  “Just fingerprint it here and let her touch the handle,” Shannon said.

  “Look, I don’t know how you do things in Portland, but we follow protocol here.” Greeley’s mean eyes glinted. “That means careful investigation in a lab. I don’t want to mess up any conviction because we tampered with evidence.”

  Shannon looked at Cross, but she shrugged. “It shouldn’t take long to clear the knife.”

  Before Shannon could respond, Greeley took out his phone and read a text. “Good news,” he announced. “We have a warrant to search the gas station attendant’s place. One of our detectives will meet us there with it. Levine, you’re with me. We’ll leave the rest of the guys to finish up here.”

  “I’m coming,” I said.

  Greeley looked about to refuse, but Cross stepped in. “I’ll come, too.”