An Eye for an Eye Page 12

  I called Baxter. “Hey, um…about the funeral tomorrow. Are you guys doing something to beef up security there?”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. “Way ahead of you. We’ve got dozens of undercover officers that are going to be in the crowd, watching out for the funeral-goers. The Fed is even bringing in some fancy FBI badasses to oversee security. If the killer tries anything, we’ll be ready.”

  Breathing out a sigh of relief, I replied, “Good. Even though I’m off the case, I can’t turn off my brain.”

  “I figured as much. If you have any more ideas, don’t hesitate to call me. Day or night. You know I’ll be up.”

  Poor Baxter. And Sterling, too. Neither of those two would let themselves catch much more than a catnap until they had this case tied up.

  “I know. Stay safe.”

  “That’s my line. And don’t try to ditch your deputy.”

  I smiled again. “Would I do that?”

  “Yes. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye.”

  ***

  I managed to make a lunch date with Rachel, so after my next class I headed to the campus food court to meet her, my deputy shadow in tow. By the time I got my food, she was already seated at a table, waving me down. The deputy opted to keep watch near the wall.

  Rachel said, “I see you have a new bodyguard today.”

  I blew out a breath. “Yeah. The guys have been nice and all, but I’m getting so tired of being watched all the time.”

  “And I’m getting tired of living out of a suitcase, away from my son. When can we come home?”

  “Soon, I hope. The killer ditched his car last night, so there goes a big identifier for him.”

  “Anyone call in on the tip line?”

  “No one who’s mentally competent.”

  She nodded, focusing on her salad. After a moment, she looked up, and her eyes were misty. “So the funeral is tomorrow.”

  “Right. At ten. Want to ride with me and my deputy du jour?”

  “Okay.”

  After a lengthy bit of dead air between us, I asked, “How is studying going for finals?”

  Rachel shrugged. “Good, I guess. How are your classes?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve done better.”

  She nodded, and we slipped back into silence.

  It felt like no subject was safe to discuss. Talking about Nate, which was what we usually did, would make both of us sad. The subject of school wasn’t much better, because losing Jenna had put a massive hole in Rachel’s campus life. I couldn’t handle talking about Rachel’s loser boyfriend, so that was out. Any mention of Christmas was off the table, considering we went to Jayne’s every Christmas Eve for the get-together she always hosted for her family. I couldn’t imagine that was going to happen this year.

  Rachel put her fork down and looked at me with such haunted eyes my heart nearly broke. “Are you free tonight to go with me to David’s to see Nate?”

  I smiled. “I am. Why don’t we meet after your last class, and we’ll drive over together? Free ride in a sheriff’s cruiser.”

  The corner of her mouth turned up barely. “Mmm. How enticing.”

  “You know it.” I put my hand over hers. “We will get through this, Rach.”

  Her eyes filling with tears, she nodded. “I know. Someday.”

  ***

  Rachel and I had a wonderful time with Nate, David, and Marjorie. I was proud of how composed my sister was around Nate after having been so worried about whether or not she could hold it together during the visit. The evening was over much too soon, and afterward my assigned deputy dropped Rachel at school and me at home. It was time for a shift change, and I got yet another deputy I didn’t know. This guy wasn’t chatty at all, and he didn’t seem to like Trixie very much, so I didn’t feel bad about holing up in my room with the dog for the rest of the evening while he sat alone in my living room. I watched the news, which probably wasn’t a good idea, since it only made me sad. They’d interviewed Baxter tonight. He looked haggard and pale, and seemed downright depressed about how the case was progressing.

  Worried, I called him.

  When he answered, he said, “I hope you’re calling with a brilliant thought that is going to crack this case wide open, because I’m officially out of ideas.”

  I winced at the despondent tone of his voice. “No, sorry. I called to ask if you were taking care of yourself. You looked pretty rough on the news.”

  His tone turned light, but I could still sense an undercurrent of dismay. “That cameraman promised me he got my good side.”

  “He lied.”

  Baxter chuckled. “I suppose I wasn’t looking so good after our one and only lead turned out to be a total bust.”

  I sat up straighter. “You had a lead?”

  “Yeah. We had a tip line call from up in Sheridan. An old farmer swears up and down he saw a silver Corolla parked at his neighbor’s barn yesterday. This morning it was gone. That farm happened to be one of the ones we had on our list. It was owned by someone connected to one of the old cases we’ve been going over, and it went into foreclosure last month. It couldn’t have fit the profile any better. Long story short, the Fed had us go in guns blazing, only to find nothing in the barn. Amanda and Beck combed the place, but it was clean. Not even any animal blood to be found. When we went next door to talk to the man, we found out that he’s an Alzheimer’s patient who is in and out of lucidity. His wife fell asleep while they were watching the noon news broadcast, and he called the tip line while she wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Ugh. That sucks.”

  “Needless to say, we put a new person on the tip line—someone who’ll vet the tippers a little better.” He sighed. “I was really hoping this one would pan out. I’m afraid we’re running out of time.”

  I knew everyone was on pins and needles, especially since the forty-eight-hour window closed tonight. Things did not look good for Michaela Richards.

  “I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

  “You’ve done a lot. More than anyone could have or should have asked of you. Now you’ve got one job—to keep yourself safe.”

  “You sound like a broken record.”

  “I have to because you’re so hard-headed.”

  I smiled. “Try to get some rest, Detective.”

  “I make no promises.”

  ***

  One of the reasons I hadn’t wanted to cancel any of my classes earlier in the week was that I knew I had Jenna’s funeral to attend on Thursday morning. I didn’t want to miss any more work than I had to. I’d managed to wrangle Samantha’s TA away for a couple of hours so my morning classes could go on as scheduled.

  I took my time getting ready for the funeral, for the simple fact that I couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand. My mind was on Jayne, on Rachel, on Nate, on Baxter, and ultimately always ended up on Michaela Richards and her dire situation. I kept going back to what Baxter had said—that it could easily have been me instead of her if Jayne hadn’t asked me to help out when we realized Jenna was missing. I guessed in that sense it was something of a blessing. One of the most difficult nights of my life ended up being the one thing that saved me from kidnapping and certain death.

  Today’s assigned deputy was Chris Lester, who I’d met when I found Jenna’s phone earlier in the week. It seemed like an age ago. Deputy Lester and I picked up a disturbingly somber Rachel and headed toward the funeral home. It was packed with people—a mix of law enforcement, students, friends, community members, and family. I spotted a few gawkers, which was standard for the funeral of a murder victim. I did, however, keep an eagle eye out for Hunter Parsons, in case he had the brass balls to show his face here.

  I saw Baxter and Sterling, both dressed sharply in suits and ties. Both of them were carrying their service pistols in shoulder holsters under their coats, which made me feel at the same time safe and apprehensive. Baxter caught my eye and gave me a curt nod. It was clear to me that he
was in cop mode rather than in funeral-goer mode. I returned a sad smile and guided Rachel to a seat behind Jayne.

  When I reached forward and squeezed Jayne’s shoulder, she put her hand over mine and drew in a shuddering breath. The family had opted for a closed casket rather than trying to hide the large gash on Jenna’s neck, and I was happier for it. Even though my last glimpse of her was on the slab in the morgue, I couldn’t bear to see sweet Jenna in a box.

  The funeral was excruciatingly sad, with numerous friends and family telling stories about Jenna and her positive effect on their lives. Rachel and Jayne didn’t get up to speak. I knew they couldn’t. Miranda, Jenna’s roommate, managed to get most of the way through her eulogy before breaking down. I dreaded the burial at the cemetery even more. For one thing, it had started snowing this morning, and it was bitterly cold. Even colder was the thought of leaving Jenna’s body out there alone under the frozen earth.

  I felt as if I were in a daze as we joined the funeral procession heading to the cemetery. There weren’t nearly enough chairs for the attendees, so I had Rachel sit with Jayne while I stood off to the side. My sister looked downright frail, and I feared she didn’t have the strength to stand through the short burial service.

  Baxter came to stand beside me. He murmured, “Doing okay?”

  “I’m holding it together,” I lied. The only thing holding me together was that I didn’t want to break down in front of Rachel.

  It was snowing just enough to be annoying. I tucked the ends of my scarf into the neck of my coat and shoved my gloved hands in my pockets, hoping to better brace myself against the cold. Wordlessly, Baxter put his arm around my shoulders. The heat from his body warmed me considerably, but my head was fighting the sympathy radiating from him. I couldn’t give in and cry on his shoulder, although that’s what I wanted more than anything to be able to do.

  The minister began giving the final burial rights, and I felt Baxter suddenly stiffen next to me and drop his arm. After looking at his phone, he turned and stared behind us, his face going white.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered, turning to look out across the bleak, snow-covered cemetery, wondering what had him spooked.

  “Sterling said he saw a man over there, crouched behind one of the headstones.”

  I squinted against the falling snow, but saw no people aside from the funeral-goers. But one by one, men and women who had the marked look of Feds began peeling away from the crowd and heading off across the cemetery in the direction we were looking.

  After gesturing for Deputy Lester to come over to us, Baxter leaned toward me and grasped my arm. “Stay here.”

  My pulse quickening, I sucked in a breath. “You think it’s him.”

  Nodding gravely, Baxter released me and strode toward the spot where the Feds and deputies were converging. I watched as they surrounded one of the larger monuments, one big enough for a grown man to hide behind. With a couple of swift movements, two of the Feds jumped behind the stone and wrestled a little. Then I saw three figures hit the ground. They had someone. My gut clenched, wondering if it could be Hunter Parsons, and this nightmare could finally come to an end.

  Lester got a text, and after reading it said quietly to me, “Detective Baxter wants you over there.”

  “Me?” I whispered. I didn’t want to get anywhere near Hunter Parsons.

  “They’re not sure it’s him. You’re the only one who’s seen the guy in person.”

  “Oh,” I breathed.

  When I didn’t make a move to go, he said, “Ms. Matthews, I think we need to be moving, here.”

  With my wobbly legs protesting every step, I followed Lester over to where Baxter and Sterling and a gaggle of other law enforcement officials were gathered around a man who was being held facedown on the snowy ground.

  As we got closer, Baxter broke off from the group and came our way, taking me by the arm. “I can tell by the look on your face that this is freaking you out, but…I don’t think it’s our guy. He swears up and down someone paid him to put on a sock hat and glasses and creep around near the graveside service.”

  “What?” I cried. “That sadistic bastard.”

  “Yeah. The Feds don’t believe a word of it, so we need some confirmation before they decide to book this idiot for murder.”

  I blew out a breath. “Okay. Just stay with me.”

  “I won’t leave your side.”

  He walked me up to the man on the ground. “Haul him up,” he ordered the two Feds on either side of the suspect.

  After the men wrestled their prisoner to a standing position, I could see immediately that this young man wasn’t Hunter Parsons. He wasn’t tall enough, for one. And he looked nothing like him. Big nose and ears, with sunken, flat eyes.

  I shook my head. “It’s not him.”

  “You’re sure?” Sterling asked. “We can’t screw this up.”

  “Positive.”

  “See? I told you pigs I’m not a killer,” the suspect griped, which got him a rough shove from one of the Feds.

  I lowered my voice and said to Baxter, “He’s wearing the same glasses, jacket, and Ashmore hat that Hunter Parsons had on at my office, though. The jacket is frayed on one shoulder. I remember it.”

  Baxter said to the man, “Who put you up to this?”

  “I already told you people. I answered an ad on Craigslist and got my instructions through there. Damn. Can somebody take some notes or something?”

  “You still had to meet whoever gave you what you’re wearing. Can you describe him?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t meet nobody. A box with the jacket, hat, glasses, and money was left for me at Ritchey Woods. Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong, here. I got my rights, and this is some straight-up bullshit going on.”

  I couldn’t take another minute of his smug attitude. “At no point did you think maybe this wasn’t a good idea? That what you were being asked to do wasn’t on the up-and-up? Did you even give a thought to what this would do to the victim’s family?”

  “Shut up, bitch. You don’t know me,” he spat back at me.

  Baxter started to lunge toward the guy, but I put my arm out to stop him. Glaring at the suspect, I fired back, “It takes a special kind of asshole to agree to terrorize someone’s funeral. I hope you remember that the next time you look in the mirror or when your mother asks you what you did today, you piece of shit.”

  “Suck my dick.”

  Baxter was too fast for me this time. His fist shot out and clocked the guy square in the jaw.

  The suspect wailed, “Police brutality! You all saw it!”

  Sterling shook his head. “I didn’t see anything.” He turned to the Fed next to him. “You see anything?”

  “Nope,” the agent replied.

  Baxter steered me away from the group as the suspect continued to spew curses and complaints until the two Feds holding him decided to put him facedown in the snow again. I noticed Baxter cradling his right hand.

  I said, “You didn’t need to defend my honor back there.”

  He grimaced and flexed his hand. “He had it coming.”

  “I can’t disagree with you there.” Across the cemetery, I could see that the graveside service had concluded and people were heading toward their vehicles. I sighed. “Well, so much for a quiet funeral so I could get some closure.”

  Baxter frowned and hung his head. “I’m sorry. That’s my fault.”

  “Don’t do that, Nick. It all goes back to the killer. This is him messing with us. Again.”

  He rubbed his forehead. “I know. It’s starting to get to me.”

  “I can tell. You need some down time.”

  Regarding me for a moment, he said, “Hey, you want to grab dinner with me tonight? If I have to eat one more meal at my desk, I’m going to lose it. I promise not to talk about the case.”

  “I feel like you could find better company than me.”

  “Maybe our bad moods will c
ancel each other out.”

  I smiled. “Okay. See you tonight.”

  I wandered back over to Rachel, who demanded angrily, “Where did you go? Could you not take a break from work long enough to attend Jenna’s whole funeral?”

  “Rachel, I didn’t have a choice. There was…a situation.”

  Her face was stuck in a tearful frown. “There’s always a situation with you. If you love investigating so much, why don’t you just go back to your old job? You have responsibilities, and you can’t keep dropping everything when Jayne or Detective Baxter calls. You’re letting things slide. Important things. Other people need you more than the department, you know.”

  Her words, although born out of grief, cut right through my heart. I reached out, not knowing if she was too angry to let me put my arms around her. She didn’t resist, so I enveloped her in a hug.

  “I’m sorry, Rach.”

  She put her arms around me and cried quietly against me. After she’d settled down, I managed to get her into Deputy Lester’s vehicle so we could take her back to campus.

  As we were walking Rachel back to the dorm where she was staying, I asked her, “What can I do for you? Are you taking a break this afternoon? Want to get something to eat? I can have Sam’s TA cover another class for me.”

  She shook her head and sniffed. “Thanks, but no. A group of Jenna’s friends is meeting in the food court for coffee in a few minutes, and then I have a…a study group at one.”

  “Later, then? Maybe we could go to David’s after your study group. I’m having dinner with Baxter, but I can reschedule if you want.”

  Rachel eyed me skeptically. “I thought you said you were done with the department.”

  “This has nothing to do with the case. He needs some time away from the desk.”

  “Then it’s a date.”

  “No, it’s dinner.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered. “I want to go see Nate as soon as study group is over at three.”

  “I’ll meet you and we can drive to David’s together.”

  “I’m getting a little tired of the police escorts, Ellie.” She shot a look at Lester and added, “No offense.”