Targeted (Callahan & McLane Book 4) (4 page)

Unlike her, who’d spilled her life history when he’d asked.

Maybe she needed to ask him questions about his wife. Her nature was to not pry into what someone didn’t easily share, but it’d always felt right when Zander asked about Jayne. He never gave lip service.

“I’m glad you came back to work. I’d wondered if you would,” Zander said.

Her heart warmed. “I wondered, too. It feels good to be back. It was the right decision for me.”

“Turn left at that next road,” he directed. Ava turned off the winding coastal highway. They’d been following the road for several miles, getting occasional gray glimpses of the ocean. The Oregon Coast was stunning on a sunny day, and even on the gray days it had a wild beauty, but Ava found it depressing after the warmth and energy of the Southern California coasts. The water was icy no matter the time of year.

“I hoped to see the bay,” said Zander. “It’s farther down the highway.”

“We can drive down there when we’re done.”

She followed his directions for another ten minutes, heading east and away from the water. They went around a curve and Zander swore under his breath. News channel satellite trucks lined the road on both sides. Ava scowled at the intruders, wondering how Mason was handling the publicity. He hated press. Especially when it hit close to home.

A sheriff’s deputy stepped into the road and held up his hand. Ava slowed to a stop.

“Our turn,” said Zander.

5

M
ason’s heart jumped as Ava stepped out of her vehicle.

Every damn time. All he had to do was see her and his day brightened. She immediately spotted him in the crowd and smiled. Her familiar dark ponytail and warm smile made everything better. He suddenly needed to hear her speak, hear her low voice that always set his stomach aflutter.

Fluttering in a masculine way.

He was pleased to see Zander Wells climb out of the passenger’s side. The agent’s sharp brain never stopped processing, and he brought invaluable deductive skills that Mason wanted for this case.

Denny’s body had just been taken away. Because of his position and the odd circumstances surrounding his death, he was being transported directly to the primary medical examiner’s office in Portland instead of one of the closer morgues. Mason knew Ava and Zander would have preferred to see Denny still in the crime scene for their investigation, but they’d have to settle for photos. He was relieved the FBI had been brought in to assist on the case because it had resources that OSP and the county sheriff could only wish for.

He wanted the best for Denny.

And the worst for his killer.

“That must be the FBI,” Nora said.

“It is. We’re—I mean you are—lucky to have them,” Mason pointed out.

“I agree,” she stated.

“I’m surprised they sent Ava,” added Ray. “You’d think—”

“Detective Lusco,” Nora said sharply. “Don’t tell me you have a problem with them sending a female agent.”

Mason bit the inside of his cheek as Ray stuttered to explain. Before his partner could form a coherent answer, Ava and Zander reached them. Ava didn’t stop but walked straight into Mason’s arms, ignoring their standing rule of avoiding public displays of affection while on the job.

“Oh,” Nora said in a surprised voice. “Sorry, Ray. Now I understand your reaction.”

Mason wrapped his arms around Ava’s shoulders and buried his face in her hair, feeling the stress of the last eight hours abruptly exhaust him. He wanted to find a quiet corner and simply hold her. Maybe that would make Denny’s death exit his brain instead of constantly circling like a bird of prey, never slowing down. It was always present, always demanding his attention, never letting him relax.

“I’m so sorry, Mason,” Ava whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I am now,” he said gruffly, aware of several sets of eyes watching them. They could all go to hell. He needed a minute with her and he was going to take it. He heard Zander introduce himself to Nora Hawes.

Ava pulled back and looked him in the eyes, studying him closely. He must have appeared in control because she turned to Nora, holding out a hand.

“You’re the OSP detective for this case? I’m Special Agent Ava McLane. I’m engaged to Mason, but my boss doesn’t have a problem with me on this case. Do you?”

Detective Hawes automatically took Ava’s hand, sizing her up. “It doesn’t seem right to have an investigator intimately involved with a witness.”

Mason held his tongue. The ball was in Ava’s court, and she didn’t need any help from him.

“You’ve been briefed on what we’d believed was Special Agent Weldon’s suicide?” Ava asked.

“I have.” Nora said, tipping her head toward Mason and Ray. “Everyone here has been.”

They’d all been stunned by the connections involving the masks and law enforcement. Everyone felt that the probability that the two cases were unrelated was minuscule.

“Think of our role as more of observers looking over everyone’s shoulders,” Ava said seriously. “Special Agent Wells will be the FBI primary. We want to know if our agent was murdered, just as you want to find Denny Schefte’s killer. We’re here to make certain every rock is looked under twice.”

Nora held her gaze. Ray and Zander both looked away from the tension between the two women.

“I’m sure that will be fine,” agreed Nora. She gave a sincere smile. “I like your frankness, Special Agent McLane.”

Ava nodded. Zander and Ray looked relieved, and Mason felt the air clear.

“The feeling is mutual, Detective Hawes.” Ava glanced at the men. “Glad to know there was a calm head present this morning.”

“You’re telling me,” said Nora. “I thought this group was about to go cowboy and start combing the woods for a killer when I got here.”

“It’s a beautiful location. Rugged, too,” said Ava. She did a slow scan of the area, but Mason knew she wasn’t admiring the scenery. She was getting a feel for the location.

Mason followed her gaze, trying to look at the area through fresh eyes. When he’d first arrived a few days ago, he’d appreciated the beauty. The deep red of the cabin against the dark firs. The mist at the tops of the trees in the early mornings. Tiny lavender petals among the tall grasses. After Denny’s death, all he saw was a crime scene.

The property was tainted.

The crime scene techs moved in and out of the cabin. They’d already removed the evidence from behind the woodshed and enlisted all the responding officers for a grid search of the immediate wooded area, which hadn’t turned up a speck of evidence. No footprints, no gum wrappers, no dropped trash.

How did the killer get Denny to leave the house?

Who did it?

A flash of dark yellow darted between the firs, and Mason spotted a shoulder and the back of a head rapidly moving away.

“Someone’s running through the woods.” He took off after the figure without waiting to see who’d follow, thankful he’d put on tennis shoes that morning instead of his usual cowboy boots.

Behind him he heard Detective Hawes shouting instructions to fan out through the woods and cut off the suspect. He ignored her. No one was between him and the runner, and he wasn’t going to pause to listen to directions.

His heart pounded in his chest, his adrenaline spiking. He dashed between the trees and underbrush, pushing through limbs and leaves, painfully aware he wasn’t armed. The figure vanished and he pressed forward, pumping his legs harder. Twice he tripped on the uneven ground but managed to stay upright.

A cracking sound came from ahead to his left and he changed course. He saw low branches move and he pushed harder. The shouts of officers behind him grew fainter and the figure came into view. It was a blond man in a dark-yellow sweatshirt.

“Oregon State Police! Stop!”

The man didn’t stop, but Mason had gained ground. He estimated less than twenty yards between him and the suspect.

The blond man’s arms flailed for a split second and he dropped out of sight. Mason heard him shout in pain.

Seconds later Mason stood over a man writhing in the dirt, clutching at his right arm. He’d fallen into a wide shallow ditch.

“On your stomach, arms out to your sides!”

“I fucking can’t! I think it’s broken!”

Mason stepped down into the ditch, rolled him to his stomach, put a knee on his back, and yanked his arms out to the sides as the man shrieked.

He didn’t have cuffs or a gun, but the pain distracted the suspect from noticing. Mason knew he had a dozen officers with cuffs not far behind him. He pulled the man’s left arm behind his back and awkwardly searched him for weapons with his other hand.

Footsteps crashed through the woods. “Over here!” Mason shouted. “He’s down! Over here!”

A Lincoln County deputy burst through the brush. “I need your cuffs,” Mason said. “Help me check him for weapons. He thinks he broke his arm.”

“You take him down?” The deputy jumped into the ditch and handed Mason his cuffs. He ran his hands over the man’s legs.

“Nah, he tripped.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really. That’s what happened. Hey, you tripped, right?” He poked the man in the back.

“Fuck you.
Watch the arm!
” he shrieked as Mason pulled on his right arm to cuff him.

“Here’s another set.” The deputy handed him a second pair to link to the first to give the man’s arms more room. Three other officers, including Nora Hawes and Ray, stumbled into the area.

“Nice job, Callahan!” Ray slapped him on the back. Mason stood, breathing heavily as he looked around for Ava. The adrenaline felt like fire in his veins and he wanted to tear down the trees to find her. She showed up a second later and he relaxed.

“What were you doing in the woods?” he directed to the man on the ground.

“Not illegal to be in the woods,” he snapped in reply. “You can’t arrest me.”

“Then why were you running?”

“Because you ran after me!”

Mason stepped to the side and knelt to get a good look at his face.

It was one of the guys from the bar incident.

“Did you enjoy the pitcher of beer I bought you?” Mason asked.

Ava listened to the suspect whine as he stood next to a deputy’s vehicle while Nora made arrangements to have two deputies take him to the hospital. A wallet in his pocket had revealed the man’s name was Tim Jessop and he lived in Depoe Bay. Mason’s three detective friends stood nearby, arms crossed on their chests as they watched every movement the suspect made.

“I know this guy,” muttered one of the local deputies. “I’ve arrested him and his buddies a half-dozen times for being stupid.”

Ava grinned. She could easily imagine the types of things Jessop and his friends had done to draw the disdain of the police. Most probably involved alcohol. According to Mason, if he hadn’t calmed down the group with a pitcher of beer last night, the idiot would probably be sitting in a jail cell still cooling off.

Maybe if they’d called the police Denny wouldn’t be dead.

She shook her head, hoping Mason’s brain hadn’t followed the same train of logic. They had no evidence the men had anything to do with Denny’s death. Yet.

The deputy knew the names of several of Jessop’s friends. He pulled up their driver’s license photos on his computer and the four OSP detectives immediately spotted the man who’d butted heads with Denny in the bar. Sam Gates.

“Sam didn’t do nothin’,” Jessop blurted. “Why are you lookin’ for him?”

Nora stepped closer to the man. “How’s the arm feeling?”

Jessop leaned away from her. “It’s fucking broken. I’m gonna sue.”

She looked over her shoulder at the four waiting OSP detectives, Ava, Zander, and the deputies. “What’d you say? The patrol car has engine trouble? But this man needs to get to the hospital.”

Ava decided she needed to get to know Nora Hawes better.

“My car’s outta gas,” Detective Hunsinger said. “I can’t help.”

“Me, too,” chimed three other voices.

“Screw all of you,” said Jessop. “I want a lawyer.” His voice was thin with pain.

And fear.

“We’re trying to get you to the hospital,” said Nora. “No one’s under arrest. We just want to know what you did after you left Pete’s Bar last night.”

Jessop’s gaze flicked to Mason. “Went home.”

“You seem to recognize Detective Callahan. You do realize all five of the men your friend Sam harassed in the bar last night are detectives with the Oregon State Police?” Nora said sweetly.

“Sam didn’t do nothin’. The one guy dented his truck. Sam wanted him to pay for it.” His gaze bounced between the men. “I don’t see that guy.”

Ava stiffened. Jessop appeared unaware that Denny Schefte was dead. There was no guile on his angry face. The detectives shifted their feet as the same observation hit them.

“What did Sam do after you left Pete’s Bar?” asked Nora.

“Ask him. I dropped him off at his house.”

“What time?”

Jessop screwed up his face in thought. “Dunno. It was after last call. We shut the place down.”

“Why were you in the woods?” Nora asked in a kinder voice.

He shrugged and looked away. “Just seein’ what was goin’ on. Everyone said cops were crawling all over this area. I don’t live too far from here.”

Ava glanced at one of the deputies, who looked at Jessop’s license in his hand and nodded.

“You gonna get me to the hospital now?” Jessop pleaded.

“How’s the engine coming?” Nora asked without looking back at the deputy.

“Better,” he said. “Almost fixed.”

Jessop wilted against the patrol car. “Why are you doin’ this? We didn’t touch no one. Last night,” he added hastily.

“Have you talked today to any of your friends who were there last night?” Nora asked.

“Well, yeah. Sam and Josh were at the diner this morning. That’s where we heard about the cops. They’re probably still there. I said I’d go take a look since I lived close and knew a shortcut through the woods to this place.”

“Did they seem nervous when they heard about the cops?” Ava asked.

Jessop looked her way. “Nah. Just wanted to know who’d gotten in trouble.” His eyes struggled to focus on her and his face brightened as they finally did. “Hey. You from around here?”

Ava lifted a brow and said nothing. Next to her, Mason made an odd noise in the back of his throat. Ray coughed. Nora turned around and made eye contact, her green gaze dancing with mirth.

Can you believe what we put up with?

Ava had heard of guys asking out the female patrol officers who’d just arrested them, but this was a first for her.

“No, Special Agent McLane isn’t from around here,” said Zander in a steel voice. “We’re from the Portland FBI office, and I
strongly
suggest you take this incident more seriously.”