Shadow of Vengeance (52 page)

“I didn’t realize how much you liked Bill,” Rachel said with sympathy. Although still suspicious, she began to wonder if she’d pegged Kaylie wrong. If Kaylie
had
left the hall at eight, then she couldn’t have helped kidnap Sean and Josh. “It was really thoughtful of you to send his family flowers.”

Kaylie wrinkled her brow. “I…didn’t send flowers. I wanted to, but I just don’t have the extra money. But I
am
going to the funeral on Monday, whether Stronach likes it or not.”

“Kaylie, I know you sent flowers. I personally pulled the card from the bouquet, which was an odd one, by the way. Rhododendrons must’ve been hard to get at this time of year. Expensive, too.”

“I told you, I didn’t send any flowers and I certainly couldn’t afford to special order a bouquet even if I did. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and check with the florist or check my bank account.”

Rachel smiled, even though disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach. “We will,” she said, although she knew in her gut they probably wouldn’t find anything. Kaylie had tried to keep her relationship with Bill secret, and for good reason. But that didn’t make her a murderer or kidnapper. Add on the fact she’d left the dorms
after
the boys had been taken…damn, they were back to zero suspects. “In the meantime, let’s go meet Emma.”

With a curt nod, Kaylie led them through the crowd. When she spotted the girls they saw her with earlier, she quickened her pace. “Emma,” she called. “Can you come here?”

The young girl’s eyes grew round as she came over to them. “What’s up?”
 

“Did I tutor you last Saturday night?” Kaylie asked, her tone strong and angry.

“Yes.”

“Can you please tell them what time we worked together?”

Emma nodded. “Kaylie came to my room when she was finished tutoring Melissa. It was around six.”

“And when did I leave?”

“Around eight.”

“Thanks. I’ll be with you in a sec.” After Emma went back to the other girls, Kaylie turned on them. “Happy? If not, I’ll give you my bank information. I don’t have any credit cards, but you can go ahead and waste your time checking to see if I’m lying about that, too.” Tears filled her eyes. “You know, I really liked Bill. He was the one person in this crappy little town that I could talk to. And now he’s gone.” She wiped a tear with a gloved finger. “Can I go now?”

Although Rachel empathized with Kaylie, and no longer suspected her, she would check her bank account and whether or not she had any credit cards just to be certain. “One more minute, please.” Kaylie might not be a suspect, but she might be able to answer a few lingering questions. “Did you see Bill before you left the dorms?”

“No, which surprised me. He knew I was going to leave at eight and always walked me to my car…even if he wasn’t supposed to leave the building during his shift.”

“On Monday, did he tell you that my partner and I asked him to go to the lab to get blood work?”

“I didn’t talk to him on Monday.” More tears streamed down her cheeks. “I was…hurt and mad when he didn’t answer my calls on Sunday. Now I’ll never know why he blew off our lunch.”

Rachel knew, but wasn’t going to disclose that information at this point in the investigation.
 

Kaylie pulled a tissue from her pocket, then wiped her nose. “Like I said, I’ll give you whatever information you need to get you to believe me. But…no one except Melissa knows about Bill and me. Even though he’s gone, I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want Bill to look bad and I don’t want Stronach to know I lied.”

“We’ll be discreet,” Jake said and touched Rachel’s arm. “Right?”

Rachel fought to mask her frustration. “Right. Thanks for being cooperative,” she said, then turned away. She took a few steps, then stopped.
 

“What?” Jake asked.

“Hang on,” she said, then quickly caught up with Kaylie.
 

“What is it now?” Kaylie asked.

“Melissa…you tutored her until six so she could make the study session.”

“That’s right.”

Rachel smiled, while her stomach jumped with excitement. “Thanks,” she said, then rushed back to Jake.
 

“That went well,” he said with disgust. “Poor kid is mourning the guy she liked and you drilled her as if—”

She waved her hand. “I’ll apologize later. Right now, we need to find Melissa.”

“Melissa?”

“Yeah, she needs to explain why she lied about going to the study session.”
 

“You’re reaching, Rachel. I
know
Melissa. She’s been working for me for over a year.”

“Okay, then if she went to the study session, why didn’t I see her leaving the building before the camera was moved?”

He puckered his brow. “Maybe she left after.”

“The session started at seven. The camera was moved at ten after.” She shoved her hand in her pocket and accidentally pricked her finger with the tip of the pencil. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

“Missed what? I’m not a mind reader. What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Stronach gave us a list of the students who went to the study session. We questioned all the kids on that list. Melissa wasn’t one of them.” She pulled out her cell phone, just as Walter finally approached them. “Hey, Walt. I’m looking for Owen.”

Walter looked from Jake to her, his eyes holding the hint of concern. “Jake, you look ticked. Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure.” Jake dialed a number on his phone. “But I’m going to find out.”

“Owen?” she reminded Walter.

“Oh, yeah. I saw him about fifteen or twenty minutes ago over there.” Walter pointed to the vacant street flanking the town square. “He was talking to someone in a SUV.”

The phone went slack in Jake’s hand. “What color?”

“Hard to say…maybe dark blue or black.”

“Melissa drives a dark green Chevy Blazer.” Jake ended the call. “And she’s not picking up.” He shook his head and winced. “Shit, Rachel. She’s the first person who found that photo of Josh. She’d told me the picture had been slipped under the door, but she could have easily—”

“Who gives a shit?” Rachel dialed Owen’s number again and started moving. At this point, none of that mattered. Not now. If Melissa was the accomplice they’d been looking for, she was dangerous and…damn it. Why wasn’t he answering his cell?
 

Jake grabbed her arm when she reached the street. “Where are you going?”

“He’s not picking up.” Panic crawled from her belly to her chest, and squeezed. “I’ve got to find him and—”
 

Jake’s phone rang in his hand. He quickly glanced at the screen.

“Owen?” she asked.

Please let him be okay
.

While he shook his head and answered, Walter touched her shoulder. “What do you need me to do, Shorty? I ran into a couple of the state policemen earlier. Want me to get them?”

“Hang tight.” She dialed Marty’s number. “Let me call their boss. He could get to them faster.”

As she stepped away from the two men and waited for Marty to answer, her panic morphed into absolute dread and fear. The streetlamp Jake stood near created eerie shadows across his ashen face. When Marty answered she quickly told them about Melissa and then asked him to have his men do a quick search for Owen. After telling Marty to meet them at Jake’s office in ten minutes, she pocketed the phone, just as Jake ended his call. “Who was it?” she asked.

“A detective from Detroit.” He tapped against his smart phone. “Short version…he’s looking for the daughter of two victims. One was the girl’s adoptive father, the other, her mother. The dad’s dead, the mom should have been.” The light from his phone glowed as he gave the screen another tap. “The daughter allegedly did it and this detective thinks she might head here if she already hasn’t.”

They didn’t need this right now. If Melissa did something to Owen…she couldn’t think about it. She had to keep her emotions intact and her focus on finding him and Melissa. “Deal with this detective’s case later.” She started toward the sidewalk leading to the Sheriff’s Department. “We need to concentrate on finding Melissa.”
And Owen
.

“I think we just did,” Jake called.

She stopped and turned, then rushed back to Jake. When he handed her his phone, her stomach dropped. “Oh my God,” she whispered and stared at the driver’s license photo of Holly Saunders. “That’s
her
.” She looked up at Jake and caught the guilt in his eyes. “How could you know?”

“I’m a fucking sheriff, I
should
know who works for me.” He started to move. “She’s been playing me for a year. I trusted her.”

She lengthened her steps and kept pace with him, leaving Walter behind. “Let it go for now. Why did this detective think she’d come here?”

They reached the Sheriff’s Department, and Jake whipped open the door. “For her
real
father.”

Rachel’s throat tightened with fear. “Her real…who is he?”

“Xavier Preston.”

Chapter 22

Where the hell is Junior?

He stopped pacing the living room and checked his watch. The little bitch was supposed to have been here twenty minutes ago. Of course she would choose tonight of all nights to be late.
 

“How many times have I told her?” He punched his palm as he moved back and forth in front of the bay window. “No more deviating. No more—” He moved the curtain aside when headlights suddenly glistened off the icy patches coating the driveway.
 

Finally
. Now he could move on with the regularly scheduled program. He smiled at his reflection in the window. No. What he had planned for tonight wasn’t exactly part of his normal Hell Week, but it would be superbly satisfying. And busy. He had to initiate the pledge. His smile fell as he envisioned the heinous, violating act he had no desire to perform on the boy. Unfortunately, it must be done to come full circle. Afterward, the pledge would die, and so would Junior. Yes. He had a busy night ahead of him. As to which order their deaths would come?
 

His pledge had asked him to kill Junior first. And he’d loved the idea, had loved the bloodlust in the boy’s voice when he’d made the request. Junior had showed utter disrespect to Hell Week the night she’d smashed his pledge’s toes. Considering what the boy would endure before being killed, he’d honor his final wish. He would…

“Son of a
bitch
.” Uncontrollable rage tore through him as he quickly moved away from the bay window and whipped open the front door. “Fucking bitch,” he muttered as he rushed to the SUV.
 

“Hi, Dad.” Junior said with a smile as she opened the passenger door. “Look who I brought to the party?”

The interior light revealed one of the buffoons from Chicago. Now he had to kill
three
people tonight. He scrubbed a hand down his face, and masked his temper. He needed to keep her at ease and in his circle of trust. If he showed any indication that he hated her, that just looking at her disgusted him, she might grow wary and run. He had no time for that particular nonsensical stuff. Not if he wanted to keep an agenda. Not if he wanted her dead.

“Junior,” he said as he approached the passenger side of the SUV. “What is the purpose of bringing
him
here tonight?”

She opened her coat and craned her neck. “Not sure if you can see it, but he choked the crap out of me when he was trying to…” Turning away, she drew in a ragged breath. “He tried to rape me.”

He looked to the man. “Very well. But you do realize what this means, correct?”

Junior nodded and hugged herself. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t want to bring him here, but I…I defended myself and after he passed out, I didn’t know what else to do.” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she started kicking snow. Kicking the tires. Manic, she pulled at her blond hair. “I was so worried if they found him, he’d lie. Tell them I…I don’t know. All I knew was that I couldn’t let them find out about us,” she wailed. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

As a victim of rape, he should empathize. Because he hated Junior, and planned to kill her anyway, he felt nothing. While he didn’t want to kill the investigator, and possibly place himself in a precarious situation, he abhorred rapists. No one knew about the old well on his property. The last person who had any recollection of its existence was dead. Her old bones mingled with those of his past pledges.

“Enough.” He moved toward the motionless man and gave him a slap. When the investigator didn’t respond, he turned to Junior. “What did you do to him?”

“I…I hit him with a baton the sheriff gave me to keep in my car. Thank God,” she finished with a shiver.

“Let’s get him inside.” He reached for the man, Malcolm, if he recalled correctly, and hefted him from the seat. Malcolm roused a bit, but not enough. He gave him another slap. When the buffoon’s eyes slid open, then rolled back, he hit him again. Nothing.
 

Irritation swam through his head, but he kept it in check. He shoved Malcolm from his seat and let him land face first in the small snow bank flanking the driveway. Malcolm raised his head and gasped.