Out Of Control (13 page)

He
hoped this turned out to be a case of misplaced jealousy and teenage desire,
although from Nita’s description of the body it didn’t sound like it. He
wondered, like Andi had asked, did Dana Moretti’s determination to reopen those
old cases have anything to do with this? Could it really be a coincidence that
she showed up in town making noises and the first murder in twenty-five years
took place? Did that mean she was in danger, too? He didn’t even want to
consider the possibilities.

Chapter
Thirteen

Without
a newspaper to glance over, Dana flicked on the television on the kitchen
counter to get her morning news fix. Switching to the local channel, she began
to fill the reservoir of the coffee pot with tap water and measure coffee
grounds into the basket.

She
paid scant attention to what was being said on television until she heard the
words High Ridge. When she turned to look at the screen, a reporter was doing a
standup next to the entrance to High Ridge Municipal Park.

“…body
of the teenager was found by her friends. Little is known at this time,
although sources said she had left the park to go on a soft drink run. When she
didn’t return, her friends began searching for her. We hope to have more on
this later today. For now, this is Jerry Macatee from KSAT 12 in San Antonio.”

Dana’s
hands shook as she poured coffee into a mug. She had to sit down at the table
before she could lift the mug to her lips without spilling any. She swallowed
half of it and tossed the rest. Her appetite had suddenly disappeared.

A
body. A female body. She knew from her research High Ridge hadn’t seen a violent
death since the pedophile spree. But this victim wasn’t a child. So it surely
wasn’t the monster starting up again, right?

Quickly,
she closed her laptop and shoved it, along with her files, into her computer
case. She’d keep it locked in her trunk while she was out and set the alarm on
the car. Considering the reception she’d gotten everywhere yesterday, she
wouldn’t put it past someone to break into her house in an effort to send her a
message.

Her
hands stilled.
Send her a message.

Surely,
this girl wasn’t killed in some weird way to warn her off. Or divert everyone’s
attention. That was far too big a stretch of the imagination. Her stomach
clenched, and she had to swallow hard to beat back what seemed to be the
ever-present nausea. No. That would be just too far-fetched. She was being
paranoid.

But
she definitely would find out every detail she could.

She
showered, dressed in slacks and a blouse and shoved her BlackBerry into her
purse. Before she started off to see the parents of the dead children, she
planned to stop at Sheriff Cole Landry’s office. He’d said if she wanted to
talk, he’d listen. She was sure, though, this wasn’t what he’d meant.

****

He
sat in Harry’s Café, enjoying his usual breakfast with his friends and keeping
his ears tuned to the conversation around him. People speculated on everything
from drug dealers to bikers to kids too high on alcohol. All of them reasonable
guesses but enough to make him laugh.

He’d
slept well the night before, his lust satisfied and step one of his plan
successfully completed. Soon he’d have to identify another victim. And he’d
have to do it carefully, so no one would know that Carrie/Dana was his final
target. He hoped.

Get
busy, he told himself. You want that sheriff so occupied he won’t know which
day of the week it is. The good people of High Ridge could blame Dana Moretti
for bringing evil with her. No one would shed a tear when it was her turn.

He
wondered what people would think if they knew what went on behind the warm,
friendly face they saw when they looked at him.

He
just loved his delicious little secret.

****

Three
hours of sleep hadn’t helped Cole’s fatigue or his disposition. He was at his
office early to meet with all his deputies before they headed off with their
assignments. But the first thing he fielded was an unpleasant call from John
Garrett.

“People
want information, Cole,” John said. “When can I give them some?”

Right
on the heels of that, the calls had started coming in from the outside media.
So much for keeping a lid on things. People talked. You couldn’t shut everyone
up. As he headed to the conference room, Grace handed him a pile of pink
message slips.

“If
you return all these calls, you’ll never get any work done,” she told him.

“Can
you keep them off my back for a while?”

“Sure.”
She took the slips back. “No problem.”

Now
he stood at the head of the table in the conference room, looking at
expressions that ranged from puzzled to shocked to angry. Everyone was there
except the two deputies guarding the crime scene. Kay Shore, the county
attorney, showed up with a signed blanket warrant allowing his people to enter
the homes of the kids who’d been with Leanne, to search and ask questions.

“Search?”
Andi’s eyebrows lifted as she read her copy. “Search for what?”

“Nita
said the perp used different instruments to violate Leanne,” Cole answered. “Maybe
whoever it is has a little bag of goodies he keeps tucked away.”

Mickey
stared at him. “In High Ridge? Sheriff, you’ve only been here three years.
Maybe you don’t know people in High Ridge but they don’t…don’t…”

“Have
kinky sex?” Cole finished for him. “I hate to disillusion you, Mick, but even
in High Ridge, I’ll bet I’d find a lot of people who like to spice up their sex
lives. They just keep it in their own bedrooms. And they aren’t usually brutal
about it. Besides, don’t forget. I spent my summers here for a lot of years.
And people aren’t often what they seem.”

He
let everyone know about the calls from the media and told them he’d be setting
up a press conference.

“Grace
will set it up, and I’ll have a prepared statement to make,” he said. “You’ve
all got your assignments. Let’s get to it.”

He
was shuffling through a new batch of messages when a knock sounded at his open
door. He looked up to see Tate in the doorway.

He
gave his uncle a tired smile. “A sight for sore eyes. Come on in and I’ll try
not to poison you with our coffee.”

Tate
dropped into the chair opposite him and balanced his hat on his knee. “No
coffee, thanks. I about drank the diner dry. I figured you’d need a kind face
about now.”

Cole
snorted. “No kidding. It hasn’t even been twenty four hours and I think
everyone wants a piece of my hide.”

“You
know this county is very low key. Malicious mischief and the occasional
domestic violence call are about all you’ve had to handle.” Tate shook his
head. “Damn nasty business, this.”

“Bad
scene, Tate.” Cole shook his head. “What someone did to that sweet girl…”

“You’ll
need to assure people you’re on top of this, you know. I’m sure it was just
some vagrant wandering through here. Stumbled on her and thought she’d be a
nice treat. But people will want answers.”

“I
know, I know.” Cole took a swallow of the liquid in his mug and made a face.

“You’re
smart and you’ve got a good staff, Cole. If there’s anything to be found, you’ll
uncover it. The operative word being ‘if.’” He pushed himself out of the chair
and gave Cole a tired smile. “You know you’ve always been more like a son than
a nephew to us. Adele and I, we’re here for you.”

“Thanks,
Tate. You don’t know what that means to me. Say, listen. I’ve been pushed into
making a statement to the press. Can you hang around for that? It would help to
have a friendly face in the crowd.”

“Sure.
No problem. I’ll just make myself scarce until then so you can get some work
done.”

Barely
an hour later, he stepped outside the front doors of the building to face the
hordes waiting for him. He delivered a short statement, shorter than they would
have liked, but he couldn’t tell them what he didn’t know.

“I’ll
issue bulletins as more information becomes available,” he said. “If you really
want to help, you can put out a plea for anyone who saw Leanne Pritchard last
night and noticed her with anyone else outside the park. That’s it. Thank you.”

Tate,
hanging out at the back of the crowd, nodded at him before climbing into his
truck.

Cole
barely sat down behind his desk again when the mayor and the chair of the city
council barged in. Margene Hollis, who ran a large ranch with her husband, had
been re-elected mayor four times. She managed the council and the town the same
way she managed the Hollis cattle operation. At barely five-five, with fiery
red curls that seemed to glow with energy, she had a sharp mind and an iron
will that usually got things done the way she wanted them.

Max
Willis had been chairman of the council almost as long as Margene had been in
office. Together they were a one-two punch. When most people saw them coming,
they simply threw up their hands and gave them what they wanted. And so far,
what they’d wanted was the good life for High Ridge and Salado County.

But
violence couldn’t simply be bullied away.

Margene
waved away an offer of coffee. “Listen, Cole. You’re new to High Ridge and
Salado County so you may not know yet how things are around here.”

Cole
carefully arranged a look of patience on his face. “Actually, Margene, if you
recall I’ve been sheriff for three years.” He kept his tone mild. “As I’m sure
you know, since y’all were the ones who appointed me. Before that, I visited my
aunt and uncle here since I was ten.”

“But
you weren’t
born
here,” she insisted.

“Neither
were a lot of other people, but they seem to fit in just fine.” He deliberately
kept his tone mild. Losing his temper with these people would get him nowhere.

Max
popped a piece of his ever-present chewing gum in his mouth, his jaws working
in a steady rhythm as he spoke.

“No
need to take offense, Cole.” His voice took on a placating note. “We just need
you to understand how important it is to clean this up before a full-blown
panic takes over.”

Cole
leaned forward on his elbows. “I can assure you both that this is the only
thing on my agenda. And you can pass that along to the members of the council.
In fact, you might want to make an announcement in Harry’s. That’s better than
an article in the newspaper.”

“Don’t
get testy,” Margene snapped. “Remember, you’re an appointed official. You can
be unappointed, too, you know.”

“That’s
enough, Margene.” Max threw his gum wrapper in the wastebasket. “Don’t let your
mouth run off with your brain. All we’re doing, Cole, is letting you know
people are nervous and jittery. They want to make sure nothing happens to their
kids.”

“Me,
too, Max. Me, too.”

“Have
you thought about calling in some help?” Margene asked. “Maybe from the
Department of Public Safety?”

Cole
ground his teeth so hard he thought the enamel would crack. He knew DPS was the
parent organization not only for the state police and the highly respected
forensics lab in Austin but also for the legendary Texas Rangers. They could be
a big help if he needed them, but he wasn’t about to yell ‘uncle’ when less
than twenty-four hours had passed.

“That’s
the first thing I’ll do if I see there’s a need for it,” he assured the woman. “For
right now we’ve got things under control.”

“They’ll
be under control when you catch whoever did this.” She stuck her purse under
her arm. “And just so you know, we expect that to happen soon.”

By
the time he got rid of them, Cole thought the acid in his system would burn a
hole in his stomach. Or maybe it was Grace Hathaway’s coffee. One of these days,
he’d get up the guts to tell her to lighten up on the grounds.

He
had just gotten up to refill his mug when Grace herself came barreling through
his door, carrying a Styrofoam cup filled with the bilious liquid.

“Grace,
I told you. You don’t have to wait on me. And I’ve got my mug, remember?”

“You’ll
need this.” Her gravelly voice had dropped to a stage whisper. She set the cup
on his desk. “If I had something stronger, I would have added it.”

Cole
opened his mouth to ask her what the hell was going on when he looked over her
shoulder and saw the answer.

“Don’t
blame Grace.” Dana was right behind the dispatcher with a hopeful look on her
face. “I was a pushy broad. I snuck by when she wasn’t looking.”

Cole
nodded at his dispatcher. “It’s okay. Miss Moretti doesn’t look too dangerous.
I think I can defend my honor.”

“You
just let me know if you want me to toss her,” Grace grumbled, heading back to
her desk.

Dana
forced her mouth into a smile. “I promise not to attack you.”

He
wondered how much of her tension had to do with what she wanted today and how
much with last night’s kiss. “I’m not being rude, but I’m sure you heard the
news. This isn’t the best time for conversation.”