Material Witness (30 page)

“Checked it myself an hour ago. No one’s there, and we’ve had a man from county stationed at the front road since I left.” Taylor pointed to a spot on the map where the lane leading to the old farm intersected the two-lane road. The map was actually a blown-up version from Google earth that showed each building of the property. “No one’s gone in or out.”

“All right. I walked the property yesterday. There’s an old gate and a dirt road here.” Shane pointed to the back part of the
property. “It’s bumpy, but manageable. Looks overgrown from the main road, and I’d like to keep it that way. If you could put a man back there on foot —”

“Done.”

“I want to pull Thomas all the way in. Now that we’re aware of his mental instability, there’s an even greater danger of innocent bystanders getting hurt on the road. For some reason his mind has focused on the money.”

Taylor studied him a moment before speaking. “He heard that his mother had died, saw the announcement in the paper … that certainly could have set him off.”

“But set him off enough to kill?” Shane scrunched down another inch in the chair.

“Remember Mrs. Knepp was an accident. After that, his accomplice was probably killed in a moment of rage.”

“We do know he thinks there’s money hidden and that he won’t stop until he has his hands on it. And we know he thinks Callie has it.” Shane reached up and massaged the back of his neck. “As long as we’re certain the place is empty, there’s no danger in letting him drive up the lane. I want to position myself where I’ll have good line of sight over the entire spread.”

“Still determined to set up on the windmill?” Taylor tapped a spot between the house and the barn. “I know you checked it out, but I’m not sure it’s the safest place. If he looks up, you’re an easy shot.”

“I’m willing to take that risk.”

Taylor shook his head. “Seems too exposed.”

“He won’t be expecting me. There’s no reason for him to look up there, and if for some reason he does, then I’ll take the first shot.”

“Why not find cover in the house or the barn?” Perla asked. “I don’t like their positions. If I choose one, I can’t see what’s happening in the other. Thomas has proven himself to be cunning.

I’m not going to underestimate him at the last minute. Once he’s driven in, I’ll call Captain Taylor, who will coordinate all personnel. It will be like pulling a trap tight.”

“Where will your vehicle be?”

“I’ll park it behind the old barn.”

“You want men stationed inside with you?”

“No. Keep everyone else on the perimeter. I’ll call you in when he’s where I want him.”

As the meeting broke up, Shane checked his pistol, then reached for his rifle, pocketing extra ammo as well.

“Planning on a gunfight?” Taylor stood studying him.

“Not planning on one, but I’m not going to back away from one either. Do you have a problem with that?”

Taylor didn’t answer.

Shane could feel the older man’s eyes on him, his expectations falling on his shoulders. Hadn’t it always been that way though? Fulfilling others’ hopes and needs was part of his job. Well, today his job required that he secure this town, which included keeping Deborah, Callie, and the boys from being hurt.

Thomas had already managed to get too close on several occasions. He wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

The killing stopped today.

“It’s not your fault he murdered the woman.”

“Which one, Captain? The first or the second?” Shane looked Taylor in the eye, didn’t glance away or blink when he saw the sorrow there.

“Either one. We can’t control the things these people do. You know that. No matter how we wish things were different, we can’t always stop them in time.”

“Today I will. Yesterday I didn’t, but today I will.” Then he grabbed his ball cap — he’d need it if he was going to perch on a windmill — and walked out of the office to his car.

He told himself he wasn’t doing this because of his past, that
it had nothing to do with that scared little eleven-year-old boy he used to be. Regardless, the details of the night continued to wash over him as he drove toward the farm. He could no more have stopped them than he could have found a way to keep the afternoon sun from shining through the old Buick’s windows.

It had been the middle of the summer, and the Cubs were still in the National League East. His dad had grown up in Chicago, and he’d been a Cubs man — still was a Cubs man.

As a boy, Shane watched Saturday games with his father every chance he had. Could still smell the microwave popcorn his mom would make, feel the way the old couch would sag under his dad’s weight when he’d sit beside him. They’d been watching the game for over two hours when the knock came at the door.

Without saying a word, they’d run through rock, paper, scissors. Paper had covered rock — funny how he could remember that as if it were yesterday. It had fallen to him to answer — to miss out on the Cubs seventh inning at-bat. He hadn’t argued. Instead he’d run to the door, expecting it to be a salesman or maybe one of the neighbor girls looking for their dog. They had two poodles and one or the other was always running off.

But as soon as he’d seen the shadow through the pane of glass lining the middle of the door, he’d known it wasn’t one of the girls. When he’d pulled it open, when he’d seen the Shipshewana police uniform, Shane had known he wouldn’t be seeing the end of the Cubs game. He still remembered being able to hear the announcers’ voices playing in the background.

His dad had hollered something about the umpire being blind.

The officer asked him if his dad was home, and he’d nodded, but he didn’t invite the man inside. Somehow he’d known, even at eleven years old, that once the man came into the house, his life — all of their lives — would change forever.

And it had.

His parents hadn’t thought to send him out of the room, or perhaps it was their opinion that he was old enough to know the truth and know it from the source rather than hearing rumors. He’d never questioned them about that decision or any other that followed that fateful day.

He remembered being able to hear the Cubs game on the television still playing in the family room as they sat in the living room — a room he could only remember walking through before. His mother sat with her back ramrod straight and tears pouring down her face.

His father’s hand had shaken when he’d reached out to hold hers.

And Shane, at eleven years old, had wondered how God could let tragedy strike his home. He’d wanted to go outside with his bat and smash something. He’d wanted to curl up and cry.

The officer — Officer Henry, the name popped into Shane’s mind now as the abandoned farmhouse came into sight — had explained that Shane’s sister, Rhonda, had walked in on a robbery. She’d stopped to buy some gas for her car and didn’t realize the clerk was already dead. When she’d stepped inside the convenience store, the robber had shot her point blank. He’d fled the scene, but the owners had one of those new fancy security recorders. It was all on tape. They even had the guy’s car plates. Roadblocks were up. With any luck they’d have the killer before dawn.

Someone would need to come down and identify Rhonda.

Shane rolled down his window, talked to the officer working security where the lane met the road.

“It’s been real quiet.” The guy was from Fort Wayne. He looked uncomfortable sitting back in the brush, his car hidden from view. “My partner’s on the dirt road, the one behind the
farm. He walked back there, like you said. No signs of any other car having been there either. This place is deserted.”

“Good. When our killer shows up, you stay out of sight until I give the signal. Let him pass. We want Thomas as far into the property as possible before the confrontation.”

The officer shot an uncomfortable glance over toward the high reeds. “Isn’t this the time of year for snakes?”

“Too cool out. You’ll be fine and back in town before you know it.”

Shane slipped the Buick in gear and moved down the lane. He wanted to be aggravated with the officer whose mind wasn’t totally on his assignment, but in truth his mind wasn’t either. He was still back in his father’s house, back in another time.

Perhaps that had been his first case.

The local authorities had arrested Spencer James within twenty-four hours, and they didn’t need roadblocks to do it. He was holed up at a bar on the interstate, intent on drinking his way through every cent of the money he’d stolen from Skinny’s Corner Stop. The man had been too drunk to offer much resistance — the weapon he’d used and cash-register bag he’d taken from Skinny’s was still in his truck. The same truck that was on the video camera.

Open and shut case.

What wasn’t open and shut was the hole left in the Black family.

The small lunch Callie had eaten tumbled around in her stomach like fireflies captured inside a jar. She hurried to catch up with Deborah as they made their way around the corner of the barn. Levi had left bales of hay strewn about, some still on the back of the wagon, others halfway to the door. The sun was headed toward the horizon, scattering rays through the fields.

Fields that were vacant of any movement.

Empty fields, empty yard and home, empty barn.

More than empty, everything in disarray. As Shane had promised, it looked as if everyone was gone. Levi and Sadie were at their children’s home for the day. Hopefully by the time they returned later this evening, the matter of Thomas would be settled.

The unusual chaos was a reminder that they weren’t merely taking a stroll on a farm or visiting on any typical Sunday afternoon.

“You still think we need to find the money?” Deborah asked. “Could be that he went for the trap. Maybe Shane has arrested him already.”

“Maybe,” Callie said. “But we’re not here for Thomas. We’re here to solve the mystery of the quilts.” But worry continued to gnaw at her mind. Her instincts told her if they didn’t find what Thomas wanted, and find it quickly, someone they loved was going to be hurt today. Which made no sense. Shane was taking care of Thomas. They were solving a different mystery. Weren’t they?

“We’ve looked around the house and the animal pens,” Deborah said. “How long do you think we should stay? We don’t even know where to look next.”

“The money, if there is money, could be anywhere on this property. I’m fairly sure this portion of the quilt refers to the barn,” Callie whispered as she refolded the quilt. It was growing heavy in her arms. She would have liked to set it down, but there was no time.

“The last two places had clues in the stitching. We need to look more closely. Let’s take it out into the sunlight where we can see better.” Deborah pulled her away from under the eaves of the barn, out into the late-afternoon fall light.

Callie closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth on her face. Had this all begun less than seventy-two hours ago? How much had she slept since then? Could she drop the quilt to the ground and curl up on top of it?

“He’s coming!” Deborah squealed, pulling Callie out of her fantasy.

“Who?”

“Thomas!”

“What? Here?” Callie’s pulse thundered in her veins as she swiveled her head back and forth.

“Yes. Be quiet, Callie.”

They’d wandered too far from the barn’s door, so they ran behind the wagon. It still held a few bales of hay, enough to hopefully hide their presence. She was growing dizzy from holding her breath. Surely Thomas could hear her heart beating.

He strode toward them, his rifle slung over his shoulder, a determined look on his face. He strode toward them as if he knew exactly where they’d gone, and perhaps he did. A pair of binoculars hung from his neck.

Callie recognized them in an instant, recognized the pink leather straps holding them around his neck. They had belonged to Mrs. Knepp.

She felt a righteous anger rising in her, an anger that burned away her exhaustion, and before she knew it she’d stood up, her head peeking above the bales of hale. Deborah jerked her back down.

“Those are Mrs. Knepp’s binoculars. How dare he —”

“Sshh. He’ll hear us!”

“But he already knows where we are. He’s been watching. He’s been following us!”

Before the matter of whether to stay hidden was settled, Levi walked out of the barn.

“Levi’s not supposed to be here!” Callie fought to lower her voice.

“He must have stayed with the animals. Callie, it’s not as if we’re trespassing, not exactly. But we’re going to have to explain to Levi what we’re doing. We need to talk to him about the quilts and the story they —”

Before she could finish the sentence Levi walked between their location and Thomas, ignoring the look on his brother’s face, ignoring the rifle Thomas pulled to the front.

When Thomas stopped and thumbed off the safety, Levi planted his feet and crossed his arms.

“Is that how it’s going to be? You’re going to shoot me with our
onkel
’s rifle?”

“I will if you stand in my way, Levi. Don’t test me.” Thomas held the rifle at the ready, but stayed where he was — Callie guessed he was about five feet from Levi, and close enough to where they were hidden that she could make out the fact that he hadn’t shaved in at least two days.

She kept her eye pressed to the gap between two bales of hay, unable to look away, vaguely aware Deborah was clutching her arm so tightly she’d probably have a bruise there tomorrow.

“These things you’ve done, you know they’re wrong, Thomas.”

“Don’t call me that.” Callie could see Thomas’ finger move from the side of the stock to the trigger. “I go by T.J. now.”

“Giving something a different name doesn’t change it. I was there the night our
mamm
named you. I was also there the night she died and called out for you —”

“And were you there when they sent me away? Where were you then, big
bruder
?”

“They did no such thing, and you know it. They gave you a choice, and you chose poorly.” Levi uncrossed his arms, his hands fell to his sides, and his head dropped. He looked so defeated that, for a second, Callie found herself wondering if he had suffered some sort of heart attack.