Keeping the Peace (26 page)

“Dad,” Peter started, “can somebody give me a ride home? Just let Mike give me a ride up the hill. You don’t need me for anything.”

John’s patience was at an end. “Peter, just shut up for a minute. I’ll get to you.” He grabbed a bunch of papers from Becky’s desk. “Mike, I need you to get online and track down this URL for me. These are the e-mails and message board postings threatening Gabriel Strand. See how far you can get. We may have to call in the FBI or get a subpoena, but do what you can right now. Can you see where they’re being sent from?”

“I can at least get the server, Dad, and they can identify the location of the computer. Depending on the server, well, I don’t know how much information they’re willing to divulge.”

“See how far you can get,” repeated John.

“Where’s Mia?” asked Peter. “She can use Mike’s car and give me a ride.”

John’s office door slammed at that moment. “I’m right here,” Mia said, coming into the room.

“I thought you went to Ethan’s,” said Michael.

“Well, I didn’t,” Mia said bitterly. “Some selfish pig wouldn’t give me a ride, and now Ethan’s called and said he’s got to go to work this evening in his father’s office. Thanks a lot, Michael!”

Michael made no answer. He took the papers from his father and retreated into the back office. They heard the chair clunk as he settled down at Jason Patterson’s computer.

Peter whined, “Can Mia give me a ride home, Dad?”

John held up his hands. “Look, you people are almost adults. You’re not babies anymore. I have to work. I’m at work now, and right now, I’m supposed to be tracking down two people who may have committed crimes in our town. Murder, no less. That’s my job. You guys work it out amongst yourselves. I don’t care where you go. I don’t care who you go with. You can stay here. You can walk home. I’ve got to go to work. And Becky’s working, too, so don’t bother her.”

He turned abruptly, yanked open the door, stalked out into the hall, and slammed the door behind him. He wasn’t six feet down the hall before he heard scampering footsteps behind him. He knew who it was before he turned around.

“Come on, then,” he said, putting his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. The two walked out together to the Suburban.

Chapter Eighteen

J
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and turned left at the intersection where Gabriel had skidded into Melanie’s car. It seemed like ages ago. Mia was silent. “How does your shoulder feel, Mouse?”

The girl shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. It’s still kind of sore. When I was lifting the buckets today for the horses, I could feel it.”

“You should wear your neck brace.”

“Yuck.”

He turned into the Jiffy Mart at the south end of Main Street. “I’m going to run in here and talk to the girls. They might have seen something. Want anything?”

Mia shook her head. “No, thanks, Dad.”

John smiled to himself. She may be nearly eighteen, but she was still his baby. He knew she just wanted to be close to him. The ups and downs of being a father were exhausting. Inside the shop, John poured himself a coffee, loaded it with milk and sugar, and went to the cash register to pay for it.

“Hey, Chief,” greeted the girl behind the counter.

“How are you today, Carla?”

“Not so bad,” she replied, taking his money. “How about yourself?”

John put a picture of Richard Seeley down on the counter. “Have you seen this guy around here?”

Carla studied the print-out of the photo. “No, I can’t say I have, but you know, I don’t remember people anymore. They come and they go. If I don’t know them, I hardly notice them, and I forget as soon as they leave the store.”

“Hmm, well, keep your eyes open for this guy and give me a call if you see him.”

“I will,” she said. “Is this to do with that murder at the inn?”

You couldn’t keep anything quiet in a small town. “Yeah.”

“Nobody knew the guy who got killed. What happened with that Gabriel Strand guy? The rock star?”

“He’s under police protection.”

“Weird. Oh, well. Have a good day, Chief.”

“You, too, Carla.” He walked toward the door, sipping his coffee.

“Too bad you weren’t looking for a girl,” Carla called out after him.

John stopped in mid-sip. “Why do you say that, Carla?”

“Well, yesterday, a girl comes in here and asks where she can buy ammo.”

“Ammunition? For a firearm?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?” John turned to give the cashier his full attention.

She was flattered and elaborated. “Well, this girl comes in, and she was dressed kind of funny. Like she was almost dressed up, I guess you’d say, with high-heeled black boots on and her hair all done.”

“How old would you say she was?”

“Oh, probably in her twenties or maybe early thirties.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I said we didn’t sell ammo, but I thought my boyfriend bought his at the hardware store. Then she left.”

“Carla, I think I can use this information. Thanks. Thanks a lot for mentioning it.”

Carla blushed.

His next stop was the hardware store. He pulled in, leaving Mia in the car with instructions to answer the radio if Becky or one of the officers called in. A father couldn’t grill his daughter for the details of her relationship with a boy, John felt, or even question her about her feelings like a mother could, but he could give her something useful to do.

Ed Sanborn, the owner of the store, was at the cash register when John walked in.

“Hi, John.”

“Hello, Ed.”

“What can I get you?”

“It’s police business, Ed. Can I see you in the back?”

“Sure. Just a minute.” The proprietor’s voice rose as he called out, “Hey, Travis, get up here and man the cash register for a minute, will you?”

A muffled “yeah” came floating back from an undefinable corner of the store.

“Follow me.” Sanborn led the way into the back office, held the door for John, and shut it again behind them. “What’s going on?”

“We’re looking for a person, a female. She could be dangerous. Did an unknown woman come in here yesterday or earlier today wanting some kind of ammunition?”

“Yeah, she made a purchase when we first opened. What’s up, John?”

“I want to question her about the shooting at the inn,” John said. “Can you verify the sale?”

“Of course. Certainly. I can get you the receipt in about two minutes. Want it now?”

“If you will, yes, please. Was it twenty-two caliber?”

“It was. I waited on her myself. She was kind of a nervous thing. Really skinny, too. Laughed too loud. She had a lot of earrings in her ears.”

They were interrupted by a frantic rapping on the office door. “What is it?” Ed called out irritably.

The door opened, and Mia hurried into the room, thrusting her cell phone at her father. “It’s Michael,” she said. “It’s important, Dad.”

John took the cell phone. “What is it, Mike?”

His son’s excited voice came over the phone. “Dad, I started with the most recent e-mails and blogs first. It didn’t take me half an hour to zero in on this. The server is Vermont Telephone for the last three e-mails and the last message board posting. VTel was really cooperative because this is a Vermont thing and Becky verified who we were. Her cousin is the executive assistant.”

“Well?”

“The computer is the one in the lobby of the inn.”

John was silent.

Michael repeated, “Dad, it’s at the inn. Are you there?”

“Yes, yes, I’m here.”

“The account holder is Bill Noyes. Somebody at the inn sent these e-mails and posted this message.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“Did you track down any other servers?”

“No. I didn’t think it was necessary.”

“I guess it’s not. Good job, Mike. I’ll head over there right away.” He handed the cell phone back to his daughter.

“Did Michael find her, Dad?”

“He’s hot on the trail. Come on, Mouse, I’ve got to get to the inn and talk to Bill Noyes. Ed, do you think you can get that receipt for me?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll pick it up later.”

“Good luck, John.”

John strode out to his police vehicle so fast that Mia had to skip to keep up. She jumped agilely into the passenger side. “Do you think that person is at the inn?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.” John stuck the Suburban’s nose out into the street and peered around the giant snow banks. “If we’re lucky, she won’t have gone too far and it’ll be the same person Strand told me about.” John drove down the street and parked in front of the inn. “You stay here and man the radio again, Mouse. I’ll talk to Bill Noyes.”

He ran up the front steps and through the double doors. Surprisingly, Susan and Bill Noyes were standing there.

“Thank God you’re here!” Bill blurted out, but it was Susan’s silence and the look on her face that struck John.

“What’s the matter?” he asked cautiously.

“Aren’t you answering the nine-one-one call?” Bill Noyes persisted.

“No. What’s going on?”

Susan said, “We’ve got a girl who’s locked herself in the room where the murder took place. She’s threatening suicide.”

“This is awful!” The innkeeper rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I called nine-one-one. Who’s supposed to respond to that, John?”

“It goes through the fire department. Dispatch probably called Caleb. He should be here soon.”

“Aw, John!” moaned Noyes. “He’s probably three towns away up to his knees in leaky pipes!”

The words had just left his lips when Caleb Cochran came through the door. By trade a master plumber, he was also the volunteer fire chief and an unusually handsome man a few years younger than John. He nodded at the police chief.

“Caleb,” acknowledged John.

He knew he could count on Caleb. The man never broke a sweat, no matter what the crisis. Yet, years back, when his young wife died, John had seen the light go out of Caleb’s eyes, and it had haunted him and the rest of the town as well. Everybody loved Caleb. Then, last fall, Caleb had married again. A beautiful girl, Lauren Smith. A prodigal daughter, if you will, of Clark’s Corner. The whole town watched with satisfaction as the empty man filled with love again. The spontaneous smile, gone for so many years, returned, and there was renewed vigor in his eyes.

Caleb replied, “Do you know what’s going on?”

“I just got here. Actually, I’m investigating that murder. We’ve got another suspect, and I’ve reason to believe that my suspect and the girl who is threatening suicide are one and the same.”

“Hmm,” Caleb mused. “Interesting.”

“Well, can someone do something?” Bill Noyes was exasperated.

Caleb had yet to address Noyes. He was still talking to John. “The first responder call went out. I got Tim Cully coming in with the ambulance crew.”

John sighed. “Couldn’t the state cops respond? I’m not thrilled at having one of my guys pulled today.”

Caleb smiled a little. “Well, Cully responded. He’s on his way.” Finally, he turned to Bill Noyes. “What’s going on, Bill?”

Noyes blew through his nostrils. “Susan was at the desk, around noon.” Suddenly, he threw up his hands. “I’m a wreck,” he said. “Susan, you were there. You tell them.”

Susan picked up the conversation calmly. “I was at the desk, as Bill said. There was a young woman who had checked in early on the evening of the murder. She was sitting over at the computer desk, typing. I had seen her there the evening before, too. She was there for about twenty minutes, I’d say. Then she went out—outside. I watched her through the big window. She headed down the street toward the hardware store. I wasn’t here when she came back.”

“The next thing we know is this!” Bill interrupted his wife as he waved a paper in the air and shoved it at John. “It was stuck in my office door.”

John took the paper and read aloud:

At the time you read this, I will be barricaded in the room my Gabriel died in. I will be preparing my own death. I can no longer live with my grief. I am sorry to inconvenience anybody, but I cannot leave the spot where his blood was shed. Please forward my love to his sister and dear, dear mother. I look forward to joining my darling in the next life. The hour approaches when I must go to him. Please do not interfere. Only carry out my last wishes and bury me next to him.

“She’s a crackpot!” snorted Bill Noyes.

While John had been reading, Tim Cully had come in to the lobby, with Mia close behind. Cully echoed Noyes’s sentiments. “She’s a nut! She doesn’t even know he’s still alive.”