A Silent Fury (8 page)

His phone rang. He grabbed it before the sound faded. “Hello?”

“Joseph? This is Christine. The dog tracked the scent down the road a bit, then I think the boys got into a car because Zorro completely lost them.”

Great. He sighed. “Thanks. Give Zorro an extra treat from me.”

“Sure thing.”

So now he would wait and see if an officer picked them up. Who would have given them a ride? A question Alonso would answer just as soon as Joseph caught up with him.

A little more research into Dylan's background showed the assault and battery was a school fight. The charges on that had
later been dropped. He'd had a shoplifting charge and served some community service for the shoplifting charge. Other than that, the kid really didn't have a record.

Still, it didn't look good for the boy.

And yet, Alonso obviously believed in his friend enough to help him at the risk of some major trouble for himself.

Another hour flew by before his stomach growled, reminding him he needed to eat something. Time had passed quickly with Joseph so engrossed in what he was doing, he hadn't noticed the sun going down.

His phone rang.

Catelyn.

He picked it up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Have you found the boys yet?” She didn't waste any time getting to the point, did she?

“Not yet. The K-9 unit came out, but the boys must have gotten into a car because the dog lost them. I'm trying to decide the next step in this case. I traced Alonso's cell phone again and got nothing. I think he's pulled the battery out. Same with Dylan's. I finally got ahold of Dylan's mother and she gave me the number.”

“Great. Well, look, I'm almost home. I need to pick up something to take back to my mother, then I can meet you somewhere. Back at the office or wherever, or we can try to find Alonso and Dylan again.”

“Fine, give me a call when you're ready. I'll keep working it from this angle. How's your mom?”

“She had an allergic reaction to something she ate, but she's doing better, thanks. I'll call you shortly, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

She hung up, and Joseph just sat there for a moment trying to figure the woman out. He looked back at the computer and then realized how dark the room had become.

Squinting through the blackness, he reached for the switch on the bedside table when the floor creaked under the weight of a footstep.

He froze. Listened.

Another creak. Like a person shifting his weight.

Alonso? No, that kid would burst into Joseph's room unannounced with no hesitation—at least he would've before today.

Whoever it was, he—or she—was standing just outside the bedroom door, making no attempt to knock or announce himself. Could it be his dad?

Probably not. Engrossed in his work, Joseph's mind had absently registered the sound of the door closing behind his parents when they'd left the house hours ago.

Not wanting to call out and let the person know Joseph knew someone was outside his door, he eased his way over to the drawer of his nightstand, slid it open and wrapped his fingers around his gun.

Could it be Alonso after all? Trying to work up the courage to face his brother?

Or someone with a more sinister motive in mind?

 

Catelyn drove toward home, her mind in a jumble. Her mother was fine. A false alarm. The allergic reaction had been resolved with a whopping dose of Benadryl. As a result, the poor woman had just been too tired to bother to respond to those trying to wake her.

Catelyn stayed as long as she felt necessary. When her mother had awakened long enough to look at her with that blank expression on her face, Catelyn's heart nearly broke and she knew it wouldn't matter if she stayed or left. On her way out, a nurse stopped her and asked, “Do you know what your mother may have meant by the words fun album?”

Confused, Catelyn thought. “No, why?”

“She was asking for it earlier. Wanted her fun album.”

“Um…no, not really. I can't think of what she might have…” Realization dawned. “Wait a minute. I might know what she's talking about after all. I have a photo album at home. It has pictures in it of the one time we actually took a family vacation.”

“Could you bring it next time you come?”

“I'll bring it back tonight.”

“Oh, but you don't have to…”

But Catelyn was already out the door. If her mother wanted that album tonight, she'd have it.

Her stomach growled reminding her she hadn't eaten in a while. If she waited too much longer, she'd get the shakes. As she drove past the grocery store nearest her house, she recognized a car in the parking lot.

Sandy.

On impulse, she spun into the lot and parked still thinking about her continued interaction with Joseph.

Why on earth did
that man
still have an effect on her emotions, her heart, her—everything? It made no sense.

Lord, I gave him up two years ago. I told You I would dedicate my life to You and serve You in the capacity of being the best cop I could be. What purpose do You have in bringing Joseph back into my life?

Anger stirred beneath the surface. What right did he have to come back and interfere? Acting like everything should be all right between them? Wanting to talk about “us”?

“Hi. Catelyn.”

Startled, she turned at the sound of her name. Just the person she'd been looking for.

“Oh, hi. Sandy. How are you doing?”

“Fine thanks. Just taking a little break from work to grab a few of the necessities. My cupboard is looking a little bare.”

Catelyn gave a small laugh. “I know what you mean.”

“How's the case progressing?” Sandy tossed a pack of chocolate chip cookies into her cart.

Catelyn grabbed a ready-made roast beef sandwich and a bag of chips. She grimaced and shook her head. “Actually, I saw your car in the parking lot and thought I'd come hunt you down. I was going to ask you the same question. Unfortunately, it seems like we're spinning our wheels on this end. Although, if I could go without sleeping or eating, I might have it solved by now.”

“Well, I don't have anything from the lab for you yet, sorry.”

Shrugging, Catelyn stepped into the line to pay for her sandwich. “It's all right. I know you'll call when you do, I just decided to stop…” She paused.

The woman offered a commiserating smile. “So…you're working with Joseph Santino?”

Catelyn might have known this subject would come up. Taking a deep breath, she nodded sighed, and handed her sandwich and chips to the cashier as she dug in her front pocket for a ten-dollar bill. “Yes, I am.”

“How's that going?”

Sandy knew the history there. She'd been there with a shoulder for Catelyn to cry on two years ago. “It's definitely interesting.”

Sympathy flashed on her friend's face. “Well, if you need me, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah, the lab. You work too hard.”

“Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?”

Catelyn grimaced. “I suppose it is. And thanks for the offer. Actually, to be honest, I'm not sure what's going on. The feelings are still there—on both sides. I'm just…”

“Scared of getting hurt again?”

“Right. Thanks for beating around the bush.”

“Well, it's no wonder. I don't blame you. But I think you're dumb if you let him get away again. He's not like your dad.”

Catelyn blinked at the woman's directness. “Maybe not, but I'm afraid I might be too much like my mom.”

“There is that. But you need to keep one thing in mind.”

“What's that?”

“I don't know Joseph very well. Just what I've heard. But I do know he's highly respected and lives his faith. You do, too.”

Confused where she was going with this, Catelyn wrinkled her brow and waited.

Sandy didn't disappoint her. “You and Joseph are both believers. You love God. Your parents didn't have that.”

Stunned, Catelyn could only stare at Sandy as she processed that statement. Then looked at the cashier. The woman patiently waited for Catelyn to pay. Catelyn handed over the money with an embarrassed shrug.

Sandy smiled sympathetically. “I'll see you later. Take care and let me know how it works out. I'll be praying for you guys. And I'll also let you know as soon as I have something from the lab.”

Pulling into her driveway ten minutes later, Catelyn realized with a start she had no memory of the drive home. Great.

Climbing out of the car, she grabbed her sandwich from the seat beside her. At least it had finally quit raining.

Her empty house loomed in the evening light. Soon it would be completely dark. And she would be alone once more. Normally, she didn't mind the solitude, but now that Joseph had come back, she found herself longing for his company once again.

And that just wouldn't do. She'd fallen for him once, then learned he expected her to quit her job to stay home and be his dutiful little wife.

Catelyn shuddered, grateful she'd found that out before she
married him. She would have been her mother all over again, living a life of misery, full of arguments and…

Nausea churned in her as she shut down that line of linking. What a disaster that would have been.

She sat there for a moment, considering whether or not to eat her sandwich right there or take it inside.

Inside might be better. She could grab the album then get back into the car to make the drive back to the nursing home before she hooked back up with Joseph to continue working on the case. If she just sat here, she'd keep thinking about Joseph.

Climbing out of her car, she unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. She needed to hurry. Kelly was still missing; Alonso and Dylan needed to be found. She had no time to waste and felt a little guilty for stopping to eat when so much needed to be done. And Joseph would be waiting for her call.

Joseph. She stomped up the steps of her front porch. He should have just stayed in New York. But he hadn't. He'd come back. True, it wasn't because he'd opted to do so. It was because of a case, but he was back and she wanted him to stay.

Really, really wanted him to stay.

With her.

Exasperated with herself for her inability to purge him from her thoughts, she grabbed her key, inserted it and turned it to the right.

And stopped.

There had been no familiar click.

Her door hadn't been locked.

Shut, but not locked.

Had she forgotten when she'd left for work this morning?

Not likely.

With careful, watchful movements, Catelyn unsnapped the strap holding her gun in the holster just under her armpit. Pulling the weapon out, she stepped just inside the door.

Did she have an intruder, and was he still here?

The brief thought that she should call for backup flittered through her mind. But if she'd simply forgotten to lock the door, she'd feel pretty silly calling this in. She'd never live it down.

Not that she should let pride get in the way of safety, still…

The small foyer curved around into the den.

Again, she came to an abrupt halt.

It had been trashed. In one sweeping glance, she took in the destruction. Her television sported a gaping a hole, jagged glass grinning at her like an evil jack-o'-lantern. It looked like it had been wantonly smashed with a blunt object. The rest of her electronics were gone, bare spaces on her entertainment center mocking her.

Shock and revulsion filled her. Not that the scene was anything new. She dealt with this kind of thing every day. Only now, it had happened to her.

She found it chilling. Horrific.

Scary.

Backing out of the room, she reached for her cell phone. She needed help.

That's when she heard the running feet coming up behind her.

J
oseph swung the gun up, keeping the nose pointed toward the threat that could possibly be waiting on the other side of the door. Sliding his feet out of his shoes, he crept toward the door.

Positioning himself to the side, he waited.

Listened.

Heard nothing.

Then a scrape, like the shuffle of a foot. And his mom thought his shoulders had been tense before. The muscles across the base of his neck felt ready to snap.

With his left hand, he reached for the knob.

Before he could get a good grip, he felt it turning under his palm.

Pulling his hand away like he'd touched a hot stove, he raised it to join his right hand, wrapping his fingers around the butt of the gun in a two-hand hold.

He stepped back so that he was an arm's length away from the door. Just the right distance between him and the head of the person who entered.

Light filtered from the attached bathroom opposite the wall where he stood. The faint glow enabled him to see the knob turning. Instead of watching it finish its journey around, he
raised his eyes and brought his arms down to aim the weapon at head level.

And waited.

Slowly, the door opened. The hinges squeaked and the person on the other side paused.

And waited.

Breathing coming more shallowly, Joseph felt his adrenaline surging, could feel his heart pounding. But his cool professionalism never wavered.

Who was it?

 

Catelyn whirled to confront her intruder and got a glimpse of a ski mask before the person rammed into her, knocking her back against the foyer wall. Her feet went out from under her and she landed on her backside.

With a whoosh, her breath left her; her gun flew from her fingers and skittered across the hardwoods.

Pounding feet moved in the direction of the front door.

Oh, no you don't, you little punk.

From her sprawled position on the floor, lungs still screaming for a deep breath, she threw out a foot and connected with a shin of the escaping thug.

“Ah!” He went down.

But before she could react, he threw a punch in her direction. It caught her on the cheek, snapping her head back against the floor.

Stars danced in front of her eyes.

No time to pass out. Get the gun.

Shaking off the dizziness and a sudden wave of nausea, she scrambled toward the weapon. More pounding feet. The slam of the door and her aching head left her ears ringing.

She reached for her cell phone and punched in the direct
work line to her friend, a dispatcher for the 911 service here in Spartanburg.

“911. What's your emergency?”

“Hey, Tara, it's Catelyn,” She winced at the breathy sound of her voice and cleared her throat.

“Catelyn? Are you okay?”

“Ah, no, not really. My home was broken into and I surprised the creeps.”

“I'm dispatching a unit right now.” The familiar, friendly tone in her voice disappeared as she turned into the skilled professional she'd been for seven years. “Do you need an ambulance? Are you hurt?”

“No, not too bad.”

“That means you're hurt. You get an ambulance.”

“No, no, seriously, I think I'm all right. Just a few knocks and bruises. It could have been a lot worse.”

“Just stay on the line with me.”

Catelyn did because she knew if she didn't she'd wind up with more than just a police cruiser in her driveway. Vaguely, she registered Tara's dispatch speech, the codes she used and knew the woman was sending an ambulance whether Catelyn wanted one or not.

She just hoped Joseph wasn't in his car listening to the scanner.

 

Joseph kept the gun steady. The door continued its inward swing to land on the opposite wall from Joseph. As soon as the figure stepped inside, Joseph placed the gun against his head.

The person froze.

And thanks to the moonlight, Joseph got a good look at his intruder.

Dylan.

Joseph quickly pointed the gun elsewhere and flipped on the
light switch. The boy's eyes were wide and scared, his hands held out from his body.

Signing with one hand, Joseph demanded, “What do you think you're doing, sneaking into someone's house, Dylan? Not smart.”

“I need help.”

“You bet you do. Go in the den while I put this away.” Joseph made sure the safety was on, but slipped it into the waistband of his pants. He believed Dylan was innocent, and yet…

Exiting the room, he made his way into the den where he found Dylan sitting on the couch chewing a thumbnail to the quick.

Sighing, Joseph signed, “Why'd you run, Dylan? And why are sneaking around this house? That's a pretty good way to get yourself shot.”

The boy threw his hands up and signed back, “I was scared. I don't want to go to jail. I didn't kill Tracy, but nobody believes me.” He swallowed hard. “Actually, I did knock, but when you didn't answer, I decided to come find you. I didn't want to leave because I was scared someone else might be looking for me and you're the only one who even thinks it's possible that I might be innocent.”

Had he been that into what he was doing that he hadn't heard the knock on the door? Must have been. “You should have rung the bell,” he grumbled. “Did you know there's a warrant out for your arrest?”

Dylan's throat bobbed again in time with the jerky nod of his head. His right hand curled into a fist that he shook with the sign for “Yes.” “I know. I saw the teachers talking about it in the office. They didn't know I'd come down there to turn in some papers. They were saying that you were on the way to arrest me.”

“So you ran.” A statement.

Dylan nodded.

“And got my brother in the middle of it. What kind of friend does that?”

Tears gathered in Dylan's eyes and Joseph hated to be so harsh, but the kid needed to realize the seriousness of his situation.

Dylan nodded, signing, “I know. That's why when Alonso insisted I come find you, I had to do it.”

“He insisted, huh? Where is Alonso anyway?”

“He's waiting on the porch. He said I had to do this. Turn myself in and let you see that I'm not guilty. That I'm willing to let you help prove that I'm not a killer. So, will you help me?”

Joseph stood and strode through the room, into the foyer and opened the door. His brother sat on the two-seater swing, rocking like he hadn't a care in the world. He looked up when Joseph appeared in the doorway to sign. “Get yourself in here, little brother.”

A frown marred the teen's forehead, but he didn't argue, just rose and followed Joseph back into the house.

Once in the den, Alonso looked at Dylan and signed, “Well, did you ask him?”

“Yes.”

Joseph looked back and forth between the two. He signed to Alonso, “So you convinced him to turn himself in.”

“Yeah. Running was stupid and I told him that. I also told him that you would prove he didn't kill Tracy or hurt Kelly but he had to turn himself in.”

The weight of his younger brother's unwavering faith fell heavily on Joseph's shoulders. “You told him that, huh?”

Alonso shrugged, signing, “Sure, it's what you do and as you're always saying, it's what you do well, so why wouldn't you be able to help my friend out?”

Joseph paced from one end of the room to the other, then turned to face his brother and sign, “All right, Mom and Dad went to the late movie after supper. I want to get this taken care of before they get back. So, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to call Detective Clark and let her know that I'm arresting you, all right?”

Dylan's eyes went huge, but he didn't say anything. Joseph continued, keeping his signs fluid, “You may have to spend some time behind bars, but I've got friends in the system and can probably get you in a cell by yourself, all right? So no one would bother you. It'll buy us time to find out who's behind all this, okay?”

Some of the fear left Dylan at Joseph's reassurances. Being deaf, the kid would be terrified to be in a place where communication would be limited. Not that there weren't other deaf inmates, but the majority of them were adults. No way was Joseph letting this kid be subjected to that if he could help it. “Who gave you a ride when you ran from here earlier?”

“Chad drove by and we hopped in.”

“Chad, huh? I thought he was mad at Dylan.”

“Naw, they made up. After he calmed down and he and Dylan talked about it, he doesn't think Dylan had anything to do with killing Tracy any more than I do.”

“Why wasn't he in school?”

Alonso flushed. Joseph answered for him. “Skipping, huh?”

His brother offered a shrug and looked away.

Joseph picked up his BlackBerry and punched the number he had on speed dial for Catelyn.

 

Officers crowded her small cottage-style house. The two-bedroom, two bath home glowed brighter than a Christmas tree on December 25.

Neighbors peered out windows, some stepped out onto their
porches, and Catelyn knew she'd be the recipient of more casseroles and desserts than she'd be able to eat over the next few days. Not that her neighbors didn't genuinely like her and visit occasionally, but Catelyn had a feeling visits would triple. They were good people, just a nosy bunch.

Paramedics and medical personnel swarmed her and she fought them off claiming she was fine. They insisted on bandaging the cut on her cheek. She let them just to get them off her back. Itching to get back in and help the crime-scene guys process her den, she finally pushed the good-intentioned hands away and hopped off the back of the ambulance. “Thanks, guys.”

Before stepping through the door, she scanned the front of her house and driveway. Four police cars sat outside her home. “I only wanted one unit,” she muttered under her breath.

And yet, she was secretly touched. They'd heard about one of their own being in trouble and had immediately responded. Couldn't ask for more than that.

Sighing, she braced herself and went inside. Silently, she surveyed the mess. Then heard her phone ringing—somewhere. Where had she left it? Looking around, she spotted her purse on the table just inside the foyer by the door. Oh, right. Grabbing the bag, she fished the phone out and answered it on the last ring.

“Hello.”

“Catelyn?”

“Joseph?”

“Yeah. You busy?”

She looked around and gave a small laugh devoid of humor. “Um, a little bit, yes. Can I call you back in a couple of hours? Oh, wait a minute, what time is it?”

“It's around eight-thirty, I think. I just wanted to let you know I've got Dylan Carlisle here my house. I'm placing him under arrest. You want to meet me at the station or come here?”

The floor shifted beneath her feet. “Excuse me? Did you just say you had Dylan Carlisle?”

“Nothing wrong with
your
hearing, is there?”

“Um, okay, right. It's just I'm a little busy. Someone broke into my house and I'm dealing with the aftermath.”

“What?!”

She winced and pulled the phone away from her ear. “Nothing wrong with my hearing, remember?”

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

She was so tired of telling people she was fine. “I'm fine. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

“You got it. We'll be waiting on you.”

Ten minutes later, Catelyn finished giving her statement and once again assuring everyone she suffered no serious side effects of her run-in with the attacker.

Finally, the crime-scene guys packed it in. Sarah Hinson, part of the CSU team, stopped her as she rushed for the door. “We'll check out the prints and stuff, but I'll tell you right now, this is looking similar to the break-ins going on over on the west side of town.”

“I've heard about those, heard the chatter in the office, but haven't really kept up with what's happening.”

“Whoever's involved is getting bold. They broke into a home with the owners there.”

Concern pinched her. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Nope, the old man was asleep on the couch. His wife was downstairs in the basement in their home office. Perps walked in an unlocked door and started hauling stuff away. Started in the bedrooms and worked their way forward. By the time the guy woke up and realized someone was in his house, it was too late. They ran, climbed into a waiting van and took off. The guy just said it was a nondescript blue van. Didn't even get a license plate because he didn't have his glasses on.”