Remembering Dresden (Jack Turner Suspense Series Book 2) (28 page)

“A break-in?” Jack couldn’t believe it.

“Nothing else makes any sense, Jack. How soon can you get here? I’d like you to do a quick inventory, see if you can see if anything’s missing. I’ve looked around. None of the usual things have been taken, which is strange if this is a robbery. Some pretty valuable things are right out in the open. But even if nothing was stolen, if someone broke in here and that resulted in this woman’s death, it graduates to murder. I guess it’s possible she surprised the thief before he could grab anything, or else he got spooked and took off.”

Jack felt his stomach tying in a knot. “Or else it wasn’t a break-in at all. Just staged to look that way.”

“Staged? Why would you say that?”

Jack explained what happened last night, the obvious examples that someone had been inside the cabin moving things around while he’d been on his day trip to Columbia. “And now you’re telling me someone was inside my condo, and the place is all torn up. But nothing is missing. Joe, these things have to be connected. That can’t be a coincidence.”

Joe didn’t answer right away. “I don’t believe in coincidences,” he finally said.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking?” Jack said.

“Somebody is looking for something.”

“Exactly.”

“Although, I have no idea how that is possible. Nobody has been talking about this thing involving the Senator except you, me, Rachel and Hank. And I’d trust Hank with my life.”

Just then, Jack had a flash of his confrontation at the arcade with those two thugs, Paco and Jeff. He remembered what they’d said. “Speaking of Hank, did he ever tell you about me getting jumped at that arcade by two guys?”

“He did,” Boyd said. “You came in to look at mugshots, if I recall. He also said you whupped them pretty good.”

“But did he tell you what they said to me?”

Boyd paused. “No, I don’t remember anything that was said.”

“That’s because neither one of us thought there was any way it could be connected. But that was the same day I had come down to the station to tell you guys all about the evidence I had found at the cabin. Then a few hours later, I’m blowing off steam at this arcade when these two guys come after me. They acted like it wasn’t some random thing. Like they had come in there specifically after me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because one of them said they heard I’d been digging into somebody else’s business
. ‘Putting your nose where it don’t belong’
was the actual quote
.
He said I was asking questions and stirring up trouble
. ‘We’re here as a friendly warning. It’s time for you to butt out
.’”

There was a long pause. “I’m sure at the time,” Boyd said, “it seemed impossible to Hank for those things to be related. But in light of what just happened here at your condo and at the cabin, I gotta believe they go together. I don’t know how. I can’t imagine our station being bugged. I mean, who would want to do it? Almost nothing ever happens in this town. But Jack, I think we need to start acting like, somehow, the Senator has found out about this. And that he has resources in play to try and shut this down. Considering the consequences of the things you’ve uncovered, I can certainly understand why.”

“So, what do you suggest, Joe?”

“Where is the scrapbook and journal now?”

“In the trunk of my car.”

“That’s no good. I know yesterday I suggested you move them from the cabin. But the fact is, a greedy teenager can break into a car trunk.”

“Where do you suggest I hide them?”

“Officially? I still can’t tell you. Because until I can get a warrant, I don’t have control of the evidence. I’ll see what I can do to make that happen, but until then—”

“I just thought of something,” Jack said. “It’s an oddball idea, maybe even a stupid one. But if the Senator sent someone to search the cabin for the scrapbook and journal, that has to mean he doesn’t know where his father hid them.”

“How do you know he doesn’t know?” Boyd said. “Maybe he looked under the floorboards when you were in Columbia yesterday, and didn’t find them because you had them in your trunk.”

“I didn’t have them in my trunk yesterday, remember? They were under the floorboards. I put them back in the safe the day before. I didn’t take them out until last night when I got home. When I realized someone had been in the cabin, that’s when I put them in my trunk, just before I went to bed.”

“Then I guess you’re right,” Boyd said. “The Senator doesn’t know where his father hid them.”

“And since he’s already searched the cabin and come up empty,” Jack said, “maybe I should just put them back where they belong. Maybe that’s the safest place for now. What do you think?”

“I think I can’t tell you what to do, not officially. Officially? I think you’re onto something. There’s also this, which slipped my mind yesterday…when I do get a search warrant, it will be for the cabin, not for your car.”

“You still need me to head over to my condo then? To do that inventory? Since we both don’t think it was a real robbery.”

“I think you should still come over here to confirm this break-in is real. Like I said, even if nothing was stolen, an innocent woman died, so that makes this a serious felony. Maybe you could still stop by the station before you go there, to drop off those documents you found at the courthouse in Columbia. But there’s no need to hurry. The only hurrying I’d do, if I were you, is to follow through on that idea you just had.”

Jack knew what Boyd meant. Get the journal and scrapbook out of his trunk and back into the safe.

As Jack moved those two items from his trunk to the safe, he wrestled with something else he knew he had to do, but dreaded. Call Rachel. She’d be pretty upset hearing what had happened yesterday and instantly recognize the danger. But he had no choice. After putting the living room back together, he picked up his phone and called her.

“Good morning, Jack. This is a pleasant surprise.”

How he wished it was. “Morning, Rach.” He couldn’t think of a way to say it.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, there is. I’m okay, but something’s come up. Something pretty serious. You know how I thought last night someone had been in this cabin, and I found a bunch of things had been moved around?”

“Yes.”

“Turns out, I was right. I got off the phone with Joe a few minutes ago. He had been trying to call me all morning.”

“Oh? What about?”

“He was calling from my condo, of all places.”

“Why from there?”

“Someone broke into it yesterday—probably the same guy. Only this time he wasn’t so careful. Joe said the place was all torn up. But the worst part is, they found my next-door neighbor dead…on my bed.”

“What? Oh, no….”

“She wasn’t murdered, not exactly. They think she had a heart attack, or maybe a massive stroke. She was there to feed my fish.”

“I remember you telling me when you asked her.”

“Hank and Joe both think she walked in on a burglar. I guess he must’ve frightened her, literally, to death. But he said there weren’t any marks on her. She hadn’t been beaten or physically hurt by whoever did it.”

“But still,” she added, “that poor woman. It’s so sad she had to die that way, even if she wasn’t killed on purpose. They’re going to treat it as a murder, right?”

“They are. Joe wants me to head over there this morning and do an inventory, see if anything’s missing. He doesn’t think there is. Neither one of us thinks this is a real robbery.”

“You think whoever it was, is looking for that scrapbook and journal?”

Rachel was always so sharp. “Yep. I think the robbery was staged. We both think that. Which means, somehow, the Senator found out about what we’ve been up to, and he’s sent someone to try and get the things I found in the safe.”

“Jack, this is starting to get scary. If the Senator does know, he knows how damaging these things are to his reputation. I don’t think he’s going to stop looking until he finds them.”

“I agree. Which is why I think you should go visit your folks in Charlotte for a few days.”

She didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Maybe we both should. I can’t believe we’re even talking about something like this again.”

She was referring to what happened last year. “I can’t go with you, Rachel. Not yet. Joe’s going to contact an FBI friend and talk to the DA about the case. He also needs to get with a judge about a search warrant. He’s gonna try and get all that done today. He needs to be able to take possession of these things legally. So, I’ve got to stay here until then.”

“Where are they now?”

“Back in the safe.” He explained why. Then he said, “I think once these two things are safely with the authorities, the danger for us disappears. We’re not the threat, these documents are.”

“You think that can happen today?”

“That’s the plan. But we have to assume whoever’s looking for these things is going to keep looking. That’s why I’d feel better if you were out of town.”

“Then you know how I feel about you staying here,” she said.

“I do. But I don’t have a choice, at least until I get these things safely into Joe’s hands. As soon as I do that I’ll head out of town and meet you at your folk’s place.”

“I wish you were coming with me.” Then a pause. “I can’t believe we’re actually having to do this.”

“I know. But I’ll be okay. This isn’t like last year. For one thing, I know how to take care of myself now. And I have a gun and a permit to carry it, which I’m going to start doing until this thing is over. Anyway, it doesn’t seem like these people are as ruthless as the ones we were dealing with last year. Nigel Avery would’ve shot that woman without hesitation, or killed her some other way. This guy just shoved her into my bedroom closed the door. He wasn’t even trying to kill her.”

“Still…you leave town the moment Joe says he’s got the warrant.”

“I will.”

“There’s another reason to leave as soon as you can,” she said. “I was just watching the weather. There’s a major thunderstorm system moving in from the west. It’s supposed to arrive here just after dark.”

“I’m hoping to be gone long before that. Well, I better get going. I’ve got to take a quick shower, drop off those courthouse docs at the police station and head over to my condo. Maybe I’ll get something to eat on the way.”

“Okay. I’ll call my mom, let her know I’m coming. But stay safe, Jack. Don’t dig into this thing anymore. Please. Just get those things to Joe, and meet me at my folks.”

“I will. I promise.”

Ten minutes ago, Strickland drove his silver sedan through the winding country road that joined Culpepper’s downtown area to the cabin on Lake Sampson. He’d parked by the edge of the woods nearest the old shack, deciding to walk through the woods to the cabin where Turner was staying.

The whole while, he kept replaying in his mind the scene at Turner’s condo yesterday with the old woman. He mentally walked through the entire episode, play-by-play, just to make sure he hadn’t forgotten any significant detail. Although he still felt restless, he had assured himself there was no way that what happened could be traced back to him.

At the moment, he was hiding in the woods but had a fairly clear view of Turner’s BMW and the cabin’s front door. He wished he could study the man’s behavior patterns more, but there just wasn’t time. He didn’t know how long Turner would remain in the cabin. Strickland could have the trunk opened, the two items removed and be back here in the woods in about four minutes. Maybe less.

Of course, he had his gun tucked into his waistband just in case. Didn’t need the silencer, not out here. With so many hunters nearby, an occasional gunshot didn’t rattle anyone’s nerves.

After a few more minutes with no visible activity taking place in the cabin, Strickland decided it was time to make his move. He had just taken a few steps when the front door opened. He froze. Turner came out, turned and locked the cabin door. Now he was heading to his car. He had nothing in his hands, which meant the scrapbook and journal were likely still in the trunk.

As soon as Turner got in his car, Strickland hightailed it out of there, running back through the woods the way he came. He planned to follow him, all day if need be, till he got his chance to get in that trunk.

Strickland had followed Turner back toward town. He got nervous when Turner stopped at the police station, but he was in and out of there in two minutes. Next, he drove through a McDonald’s, then turned right and headed out on another country road hugging the outskirts of town. After a few minutes, Strickland knew where Turner was going. Back to his condo. It came up on the left. Strickland held back, allowing Jack to go through the security gate on his own.

He decided to repeat his own method of entry, the route he discovered yesterday. He parked along the curb, got out and headed through the woods, trotting alongside the big stone wall. Soon he had climbed the tree and peered over the wall, waiting till the coast was clear. He hopped over and, once again, stood in front of the row of hemlock trees. Stepping between two of them, he walked nonchalantly down the sidewalk toward Turner’s building.

He was surprised when he reached Turner’s parking places to find them occupied by government vehicles, not Turner’s car. Must be crime scene guys or other people investigating the old woman’s death. But where was Turner’s car?

He kept walking past his assigned spaces, searching the cars parked all around. Finally, he found it in a guest spot two buildings away. The extra distance turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Turner’s BMW was far away from the action. Strickland wouldn’t have to worry about someone, especially someone with the police, coming back to their car and spotting Strickland breaking in.

When he reached Turner’s car, he slowed his pace, walked past it until he reached a pool fence about fifty feet away. Turning as casually as possible, he now had a full view of the lot where Jack’s car was. No one in sight. He walked back to the car, circled it twice, peering into the windows on the second pass.

No luck.

No journal, no scrapbook. Had to be in the trunk.