Christmas Cover-Up (5 page)

Faith delegated assignments to her team and headed over to the shooter’s vehicle. Katie followed. Jordan tucked his phone in his pocket and looked at her. “The car’s stolen.”

“Naturally.”

Faith shrugged. “I’ll do the best I can do here. Will be able to do more once we get it to the lab.” She glanced at Katie. “I’ll have Mariah work on it.”

Katie nodded. “Thanks.”

The crime scene photographer had his work cut out for him between the wreck and the diner. She noticed he had someone with him to help. For the next two hours, Katie worked the scene and listened as Jordan offered his opinion and expertise. He kept a low profile and didn’t try to take over, although he might have wanted to. That bullet had come awfully close to his head. If she hadn’t dropped her napkin—

“You ready to get out of here?”

Jordan’s low voice cut into her thoughts.

“I’m ready.”

Katie looked back at where the wreck had been. Broken bits of glass that had escaped the sweep-up were the only sign of the chaos from just a few hours earlier. The diner was another matter—crime scene tape and broken windows were evidence of the reality of what had happened.

She climbed into Jordan’s truck and put on her seat belt. He said, “The car that the shooter was driving was the one that slowed down right before we went in the diner.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure. Same color, make and model. A red Toyota Camry.”

“So you think he followed us, let us go in and then came back to shoot the place up?”

“Yes.”

She mentally chewed on that for a minute. “If you hadn’t ducked, that bullet would have hit you in the back of the head.”

He grimaced and reached up to rub the back of his neck, as though he needed reassurance it was still in one piece. “We’re making someone uncomfortable. Someone who knows we’re investigating your sister’s kidnapping.”

For the first time in a long time, hope sprouted. “If we’re making someone uncomfortable in regards to Lucy’s kidnapping, we must be onto something.”

“I think that diner was a huge clue.”

“So why wasn’t it in the report?”

“That’s a question for Detective Miller.” He gave her a grim smile. “Plus we have an eyewitness. Bobby Young said he saw the man clear as day.”

“Is he on his way to the precinct to work with the sketch artist?”

“He is.”

Katie pulled out her phone and dialed the number she hadn’t used in a year. He answered on the third ring. “Miller here.”

“Hi, Frank. It’s Katie Randall.” Silence greeted her. “Lucy Randall’s sister.”

“I know who you are. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you’d have some time to discuss my sister’s case with me.”

He grunted. “You’re back on that, are you?”

She didn’t let his gruffness deter her. “I am.”

“You working with that guy from Finding the Lost?”

“Yes.”

He huffed a sigh. “All right. Sure. I don’t know what else you think I can tell you that I didn’t tell him, but how about four o’clock tomorrow afternoon here at the station?”

“I’ll be there.”

She hung up and filled Jordan in. “Do you mind if I come along?” he asked.

“Not at all.”

“I wonder what he’ll have to say about the diner.”

“Good question. But until then, I’m curious to see if Mr. Wray has anything to add to his story about why he was in my house.”

“Shall we find out?”

She glanced at her watch. “Let’s see if we can catch him before he heads to dinner.”

* * *

Jordan followed Katie into the jail. The usual chaos—ringing phones, chattering of law enforcement and curses from recently arrested criminals—filled the air. It reminded him of his detective days before he’d applied to the FBI and gotten the case that had turned his life upside down.

But he wasn’t here to think about that. Right now he wanted to know if Mr. Wray had anything else to add to his story.

Katie had called ahead and asked for him to be brought into one of the private areas where prisoners met with those involved in their legal activities. Katie paced the length of the small room while Jordan leaned against the table.

She said, “I wonder if he’s retained a lawyer yet.”

“Probably a public defender. I looked a little deeper into his past last night. He was on probation. His latest crime will land him here for a good long while.”

“Then maybe he won’t have anything to lose by talking to us now.”

“Maybe.”

She shot him a glance and then looked at her watch. “Wonder what’s taking so long?”

“He’s probably at dinner.”

She grimaced. “Is it already that time? I forgot how late it was.”

“Your headache gone?”

“The one from this morning is. However, I have a feeling Mr. Wray may spark another one.”

The door opened and Jordan straightened.

An officer said, “Mr. Wray won’t be coming in.”

“Why’s that?” Katie asked.

“Because he’s being transported to the hospital. There was a fight on the way to the dining hall. He was stabbed in the throat.”

FIVE

K
atie pushed the rotating door of the hospital and stepped into the emergency department waiting room. She flashed her badge to the woman behind the desk. “Wesley Wray. He was just brought in from the prison. Stabbing victim.”

The woman got on the phone. She looked up. “I’m sorry. He died in the ambulance.”

Katie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She nodded. “All right. Thanks.” She looked at Jordan. “Great. Just great.”

“Yeah.” He placed a hand on her lower back as he directed her to the door. Now that her adrenaline rush was ebbing, disappointment flooded her. As did her awareness of the man beside her. Their moments together flashed in her mind. He’d been nothing but kind and considerate with her, thoughtful and selfless. Spending time with him was giving her a new perspective of him and she liked it.

“What are you plans tomorrow?” he asked.

“Thursday. I plan to have breakfast with my parents and then work late. You?”

He gave her an amused look. “Something along those lines. I probably won’t see my parents, but I’ll definitely be working late.”

“Do you see your parents often?”

He paused. “Most Saturdays. You?”

“Most Thursday mornings.”

He opened the car door for her and she lifted a brow in surprise. He shrugged. “Chivalry’s not dead, in spite of what most people think.”

She smiled. “I like chivalry.” She slipped into the passenger seat and buckled up. When he settled behind the wheel, she said, “Probably because I don’t get much of it.”

“Because you’re a cop or because you just pick the wrong guys?”

She shot him a perturbed look. “Partly because I’m a cop, I suppose. I’ve chosen what was once a male-only field. My feminine side gets ignored mostly.”

He turned the key and pulled from the parking lot. “Does that bother you?”

She hesitated. “Only sometimes. Depends on the circumstances.”

“Like?”

“If I’m on a date and it gets ignored, yes, it bothers me. Working a case with a fellow officer, I don’t even think about it.”

“Do you go on dates often?” he asked.

His casual tone gave no hint as to the purpose behind the question. Was he asking because he was just curious or was there something more? Like personal interest.

“No. I haven’t been on a date since my fiancé died a few years ago.” As soon as the words left her lips, she wanted to recall them.

He stiffened and shot her a brief look. “What happened?”

“He was shot. He was a detective and walked into the wrong building at the wrong time. He and his partner were set up and ambushed. They never had a chance.” She kept her words short, hoping Jordan would back off the line of questioning she’d opened up. “So, are you ready to call it a night?”

He didn’t say anything and she wondered if he’d let her change the subject. The he said, “Who do you think killed Wray?”

“Someone who didn’t want him talking to us.”

“Which means Wray didn’t pick my house randomly. He had a purpose in being there and I want to know what it was.”

Jordan said, “It seems like he was looking for something.”

“Like my laptop,” she mused. “Remember? He asked if it was in my case.”

“So what’s on the laptop that would be of interest to someone?”

“Nothing. I don’t keep work stuff on there, just personal stuff, mostly.”

“And notes about Lucy’s kidnapping?”

She stilled then nodded. “Yes. There are notes about Lucy on there.”

“Interesting.”

“Isn’t it, though?” She sighed. “Are you ready to call it a night?”

“Yes, I guess I am. What time are you available tomorrow?”

“I’ll be done by midmorning. I’m just running a few errands for my mother.”

“All right. You like Chinese food?”

“Love it.”

“Where do you want to meet?”

“Why don’t you come to my house?” She held up Lucy’s paper file. “I think I have this thing memorized, but I’m going to work on it tonight. I’m also going to check in with Mariah and see if she got anything from the diner.”

“Will you let me know what you find out?”

“Of course.”

Jordan dropped her at her car and Katie watched him drive away, wondering at the ball of tension in the pit of her stomach.

As she drove home, she couldn’t get her mind off the handsome FBI agent. Why had she mentioned her fiancé? As a way of letting Jordan know she was single? He already knew that. A way of telling him she was ready to move on?

Was she? Maybe. But not with him. At least not while his parents still held so much animosity toward her. So what had mentioning her fiancé been all about?

Headlights in her rearview mirror captured her attention. The driver had them on bright and kept creeping closer. Katie adjusted the mirror and alternated keeping her eye on the lights behind her and the road before her.

Her phone rang, and she snatched it from the cup holder. “Hello?”

“Hey.” Mariah’s soft alto came over the line. “I’ve been working on the evidence the team gathered from that shooting at the diner.”

“And?”

“The car had tons of fingerprints. Lots of little ones belonging to children that I can probably rule out. The others will take time to go through.”

“Well, it was stolen, so that’s to be expected.”

“Right, it was reported stolen three days ago, but I did find a receipt for gas you might want to check out. Someone filled up early this morning.”

“Cash or credit?”

“Cash.”

“Naturally.” She chewed her lip and glanced at the lights in the mirror again. Still on bright and so close they helped illuminate the road in front of her. “All right, text me the address. Maybe they’ve got some video I can look at.”

Mariah said, “Done.”

The phone beeped, confirming Mariah’s text.

“When are you coming home? I’m on my way there now.”

“I’m not. I’m going back over to Grandma Jean’s. She’s come down with a nasty virus, so I told her I’d stay with her at night. My mom’s there now.”

“Uh-oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Just pray I don’t catch it.”

“You’re never sick.”

“True,” Mariah said happily. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call if I come up with anything else.”

Katie hung up and took one more look in her rearview mirror. Enough was enough. Checking around her, she turned her signal on and pulled over to the side. She muttered, “Go on, then, if you’re so impatient. But if you speed, you’re mine.”

But the car pulled up behind her.

Okay, so this wasn’t about someone in a hurry.

She looked around. Darkness coated the area. Uneasiness crawled up her spine as she debated what she was going to do. Crawl out of the car and confront him? Wait for him to approach her?

But he was just sitting there and she couldn’t see enough to figure out who he might be.

True, she was a cop and she had her weapon, but no way was she going to be caught alone on a relatively empty road after dark with someone intent on playing a dangerous game. She gunned the engine, grabbed her phone and dialed Gregory’s number.

No answer.

She hung up and punched in Jordan’s. The car followed her into the street, rammed his gas and bumped her. Hard. Katie jerked against the seat belt and lost her grip on the phone. It tumbled to the floorboard. She left it there and grasped the wheel to control the vehicle.

Katie gripped the wheel and put some of her defensive-driving skills to work. She slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel to the left. The tailgating vehicle roared past. Cars approached from behind. Her possible assailant took off. Katie gripped the wheel to go after the disappearing taillights, but by the time she got back on the road and headed after him, he’d vanished.

She slapped the wheel in frustration. She didn’t even have a tag to call in.

Katie pulled to the side of the road once again and reached down to feel for her phone. She grasped it and noticed Jordan had called her five times. She hit redial.

“Are you all right?” he shouted.

“I’m fine.” She relayed the car incident. “He’s gone and I’m going home.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. But I’ll be sleeping with my gun tonight.”

* * *

Jordan paced his den, knowing he was going to wear a groove in the floor if he didn’t sit down. But he couldn’t. His nerves hummed and his adrenaline still flowed from the excitement with Katie.

“You okay?”

He spun to see his roommate, Brandon Hayes, standing in the door. “Yeah. I’m okay. Had a scary moment a few minutes ago, but it’s all good now.” When his phone rang with Katie’s number popping up on the screen, he’d had a leap of gladness, a thrill he hadn’t felt in a long time.

When he’d heard nothing but the squeal of tires, Katie’s yell and then silence as the phone went dead, his elation had quickly turned to fear. He’d been halfway to his car, with no idea of where he was going or how he was going to find her, when she’d finally called him back.

“What happened?”

Jordan filled him in.

“Whoa. But she’s all right?”

“Yeah. At least she says she is.”

“Can I help with anything?”

Jordan paced the length of his den, debating whether or not to go over to her house. But she’d sounded fine. A little shaken maybe, but unhurt. Indecision made him hesitate.

“No. I guess not.”

“Let me know if you need something.”

An idea occurred to him. “If I need help with some surveillance, would you have some time?”

Brandon nodded. “Just not tonight. I’m already doing some for a case.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Jordan’s phone rang, and Brandon walked back down the hall toward his bedroom. Jordan glanced at the phone display. His new boss with the FBI, Special Agent in Charge Ruby Parker. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“I need you to look into something for me.”

“What’s that?”

She hesitated. “It’s a predator and a missing kid.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, the FBI asked me to be available for some contract work. I agreed, but one of the conditions was no missing children.”

She huffed. “I don’t understand you, Jordan. You work for an organization that finds missing children. I need you on this one.” Her frustration came through loud and clear.

“I handle the adult cases only. Or children’s cold cases. Cases where the victim’s probably already dead and the family just wants closure. I don’t do anything else. That was the agreement with Finding the Lost. That’s the agreement with the FBI. Nothing’s changed.”

“Then I don’t see that we need to keep you on.”

“Look—”

“I’ll be in touch.”

She hung up, and Jordan slowly lowered the phone, visions of his past coming back to haunt him. Missing children. He simply couldn’t do missing kids. Not anymore. Not since he’d let little Regina Palmer die. Even though no one blamed him for the child’s death, Jordan couldn’t seem to find a way to get past the guilt.

He drew in a ragged breath.

He wasn’t worried about Ruby getting rid of him. She knew the deal.

And right now he wanted to focus on helping Katie. His gut told him they’d asked the right questions of the right person. Only he wasn’t sure which questions had sparked the panic in whoever seemed to be targeting Katie.

Which meant they could narrow the list. Sort of. He’d already talked to over forty people.

He wondered how Mr. Young had done with the sketch artist and made a mental note to ask Katie about it first thing.

Jordan glanced at the clock once again. Seven o’clock. She should be home by now. Without waiting to talk himself out of it, he grabbed his phone and texted her.

You all right?

Within seconds, her reply buzzed him.

I’m home and going over the file. Trying to figure out who we’ve made nervous.

He chuckled.

Great minds think alike.

LOL. You, too?

Yes. Any news from the sketch artist?

No. And that’s weird. I’ll give her a call.

Let me know what she says. See you tomorrow.

Nite.

Jordan set the phone aside, feeling a little better now that he knew she was safe in her home. Still...

Brandon reentered the room, dressed in a heavy coat, gloves and a warm cap. He had a scarf thrown over his left shoulder. “I’ll be gone until morning.”

“How does it feel to be a full-time detective again?”

“Feels good. I needed to take the time off to help Erica with Finding the Lost, and I’ll always be available, but being back on the job feels like I can breathe again, you know?”

He knew. Once a cop, always a cop. Exactly how he felt about being back on the FBI payroll.

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

Brandon left. Jordan grabbed his phone again and hit a number he had on speed dial.

* * *

Katie checked the locks on her doors and windows one more time, then settled on the couch with the file she nearly had memorized. Only this time she had new material to work with.

Jordan’s notes.

She flipped the pages and studied the tight, neat words. Names of her parents’ neighbors leaped out at her. One after the other. She finished Jordan’s notes then started again. She’d talked to everyone he had—and they all said the same thing.

With one exception: the McKinneys. Her heart picked up a little speed.

The McKinneys had been in their early thirties when Lucy disappeared.

Mr. McKinney had been in a car wreck the week before. Mrs. McKinney had brought him home about three hours before the kidnapping, but stated she hadn’t heard or seen anything out of the ordinary. However, she’d wanted to know if anyone had looked into the car she’d seen several days in a row, parked down the street from the Randall household. Mrs. McKinney thought it strange that she never saw it again after the kidnapping.

Katie’s heart picked up speed.

Jordan had noted it was a gray sedan. A Buick, possibly, but Mrs. McKinney just wasn’t sure of the make and model.

Katie pondered the idea that the car might mean something. Might somehow be an important piece of information. Could be. Then again, it could have belonged to someone on the street. Someone who had family visiting. Could have been a rental. Could have been anything.