The Right Call (31 page)

“My baby, Lisa Beth, is nuts about a guy named Corley,” he said softly. “It’d break her heart if something happened to him, and seein’ her hurt would do me in.”

“Then you understand how I’m feeling right now.”

Sam squeezed her shoulder. “Let me go pick up Win Davison. In the meantime”—Sam turned to a forty-something man who reminded her of Kurt—“I’m going to have Deputy Pierce look at our new computerized map of Stanton County and locate the areas of white water where Ethan and our only witness could’ve found a strong cell signal. Let’s put together a search-and-rescue mission and see if we can’t find them alive.”

Brill strolled along the sidewalk around the Stanton County courthouse, Trent at her side. They had walked around once already without either saying anything. What was there left to say?

“I need a cigarette.” Trent took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, turning his head as he took the first puff and exhaled a stream of white.

“I thought Sam was genuinely on board.” Brill glanced over at Trent. “You know we need his help. Win Davison’s not about to talk to us without an attorney present—not after the brouhaha he created because we questioned him when Tal was shot.”

“At least now we know why he poured on the indignation when we questioned him. I can still see the jerk pounding the table with his fist, demanding justice.”

“We’re going to do everything in our power to make sure that’s
exactly
what he gets,” Brill mused. “You know, I remember thinking at the time that he acted more like a demanding CEO than a grieving father. But it honestly never occurred to me that he had anything to do with Tal’s death.”

Trent took another puff of the cigarette before dropping it on the sidewalk and crushing it. He picked up the butt and threw it in the trash receptacle.

“Much better,” she said.

“You’re worse than my wife.” Trent unwrapped a Tootsie Pop and stuck it in his mouth.

“You’re no good to me dead.”

“Right now, I don’t seem to be much good to anybody.”

Brill smiled. “Why don’t you stop pouting and go find me some evidence so we can nail Win Davison to the wall? I want you and Beau Jack and Spence to work with Sam’s deputies. Once we have the search warrants, this takedown is going to go fast.”

Chapter 37

Brill
stood at the two-way mirror outside the interrogation room at the Stanton County Sheriff’s Department, watching Sam Parker and Deputy Pat Milstead begin their questioning of Win Davison.

“Thanks for comin’ in,” Sam said. “Deputy Milstead is just going to take a few notes so I don’t forget anything. We’re sorry to intrude on your holiday weekend. But seein’ as how we may have your son’s killer in custody and it may not take long to get him to confess, I thought you should be here for that.”

“I appreciate that.” Win took a sip of coffee. “What did you tell me his name was?”

“Stedman Reeves. He’s a concrete finisher by day, a gambler by night.”

“I was surprised to hear you’ve got him in custody. The media is reporting him still at large, and those hounds are usually right on your heels.”

“We’re trying to keep this under wraps,” Sam said, “until we’re sure Reeves is our man.”

“Well, you must be pretty sure if you’ve arrested him.”

“He’s in custody, but we haven’t charged him with anything yet.”

“You said this Reeves got himself into some kind of trouble.”

Sam nodded and folded his hands on the table. “Pitiful. He said he lost sixty thousand bucks in a high-stakes poker game to a fella named Grant Wolski. Reeves couldn’t pay up. Said this Wolski told him he needed a job done. That if Reeves would eliminate your son, the debt would go away. He agreed to do it. But before he could get up the nerve, he claims two guys in a red truck pulled in front of him and shot Tal right there on the sidewalk and sped away.”

“I’m sure he’d say just about anything to save his hide.”

“Well, I’m sure he would,” Sam said. “But Grant Wolski can’t tell us his side of the story. He was killed today in a hit-and-run accident.”

“Yes, our human resources director called and told me.” Win traced the rim of his cup with his finger. “I’m sure you know Mr. Wolski was a supervisor at Davison Technologies.”

Sam nodded. “Can you think of any reason he would want to kill your son?”

“Actually I can. A number of the workers in his division had to be cut in the layoffs. I guess he took it hard and wanted to get back at me. There’s no other explanation for why he would want my son killed. Tal was such a great kid.”

“Yes, I’m sure he was.” Sam stroked his mustache. “I’m sorry for your loss, Win. I know you had high hopes for him.”

“I did. Tal was going to come work for me after he graduated. It’s something we’d talked about since he was twelve.”

“And he was excited about it?”

“Ecstatic. He knew what a privilege it was.”

“Wasn’t it your grandfather who founded the company?”

“Yes, it was. Of course, technologies have changed throughout the years, and we’ve adapted and kept up. Tal would have been such an asset in that regard. Plus, he had a great business head on his shoulders.”

Sam’s eyebrows came together. “Hmm … where did I get the idea that Tal planned to go to the police academy?”

Win’s expression went blank, but he didn’t miss a beat. “I can’t imagine. Tal knew it was his birthright to step into my shoes one day—the fourth generation to run the business. We were both pumped about it.”

“So Tal wasn’t plannin’ to go into law enforcement?”

“Of course not. No offense, Sheriff, but his first year’s bonus alone would be more than your annual salary.”

Sam pursed his lips. “Well, it’s a fact no one ever got rich in law enforcement. I just wish I could remember why I thought that. It’s not like me to file something away and not remember where it came from.”

“I
would
like to get back to my wife and our guests at the lake. Could we move on to the reason you wanted me here?”

Sam pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “Sure. I just need you to help me clear up a few things.”

“Go on.”

“Reeves claims there was a conspiracy to kill your son, and that he was set up to take the fall.”

Davison rolled his eyes. “Nice try. But he admitted that he agreed to kill Tal. Anything he says now is just a last-ditch effort to keep from getting life in prison—or the death penalty.”

“That’s kinda what I thought. But his allegation about there bein’ a conspiracy to kill Tal piqued my interest.”

“What conspiracy? Wolski got Reeves to kill my son in exchange for canceling his gambling debt.”

“That’s what they agreed on, yes. But what if it didn’t go down that way? What if there’s more to it?”

“I can’t believe Reeves is wasting your time with all this nonsense. Where’s his attorney?”

“He doesn’t want an attorney. Seems confident that we’re going to find him innocent.”

“Did he give you specifics on this
alleged
conspiracy?”

“He surely did. Got into great detail, as a matter of fact.”

“Now
my
interest is piqued. What did he say?”

“I’m not really at liberty to talk about his statement.”

Win leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “Then why did you bring it up? This is my son’s death we’re talking about! You can’t keep me in the dark!”

“Well, I can tell you Reeves named people in high places. When it gets out it ought to shock the socks off the folks in Sophie Trace.”

Where are you going with this, Sam?
Brill thought.
If you push him too hard, he’s going to lawyer up.

“What do you mean by high places?”

“That’s all I can say right now. Have some more coffee. Deputy Milstead, would you get us another cup? Cream and sugar for Mr. Davison. I drink mine black.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.” Pat got up and left the interview room.

Win wiped his upper lip. “Look, Sheriff, I came down here in good faith. What is it you need from me? Spell it out so I can go home and enjoy what’s left of my holiday weekend.”

“I just need you to help me brainstorm this conspiracy notion. I’m not convinced Reeves killed your son.”

“You actually believe his story about a red truck cutting in front of him and someone shooting Tal?”

“I certainly haven’t ruled it out. Some things just don’t add up.”

Win folded his arms across his chest. “Like what?”

“Like who killed Tal’s roommate, for starters. If Wolski wanted to get back at you, he succeeded when he had Reeves kill your son. It makes no sense that Reeves would kill Tal’s roommate four days later.”

“It would if Reeves was nervous that Drew Langley could ID him.”

“The media reported that Langley was in his room, listening to music on his iPod, and wasn’t aware of anything that happened outside.”

“But he tried to revive Tal. Tal could’ve told him who the shooter was.”

“Except Tal never regained consciousness. The media reported that, too.”

“So Reeves didn’t want to take any chances.” Win sighed. “You’re making this much too difficult.”

“Well, the pieces don’t fit.”

“I don’t see why”—Win’s voice went up an octave—“when
everything
points to Reeves being the killer. A witness said the shooter had dark hair and a beard. Reeves admitted that he agreed to kill Tal and
why
—and
who
put him up to it. For cryin’ out loud, his prints are on the gun! What more do you need?”

“How’d you know Reeves’s prints are on the gun?” Sam folded his arms across his chest and peered over the top of his glasses. “We haven’t told the media yet.”

That’s it, Sam. Make him squirm!
Brill leaned against the glass outside the interview room.

“I—well, I, uh …” Win’s face turned crimson. “Naturally, I just assumed they were Reeves’s prints found on the gun since he admitted he shot Tal.”

“He admitted he
agreed
to it. He denies goin’ through with it.”

“Obviously he’s lying.”

“And you’ve never met Reeves?”

“Of course not.”

Sam rubbed his chin. “Then how’d you know he had dark hair and a beard?”

Win seemed trapped in a long pause. Finally he said, “Since you brought him in, I’m assuming he fits the description.”

“Or the description fits him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe the shooter disguised himself to look like Reeves so he could frame him.”

“All these
maybes
are wearing me out, Sheriff.” Win looked at his watch. “Could we wrap this up soon? I’d really like to get back to the lake.”

“All right. We did find something that should blow all the maybes right out of the water.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? What was it?”

“Something Reeves forwarded to himself this past Saturday night from Wolski’s computer. He admitted breaking in. Said he was looking for evidence to prove his innocence.”

The color and expression drained from Win’s face.

Sam sat back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “It was a copy of a memo Grant Wolski had written to himself after a meeting you had with him and a fella named Roy Dupontes in your office the night of May first. Do you recall that meeting?”

“I have a lot of meetings, Sam. I don’t recall that particular one.”

“Let me see if I can refresh your memory. You had just been contacted by a man named Paulson McGiver, who produced DNA evidence that Tal was
his
biological son and not yours. He tried to extort a million dollars from you to keep him from going public with it. Then three days later he’s found facedown in a ditch with a bullet in his head. And lo and behold,”—Sam shook his head—“we discover that bullet came from the very same gun that killed Tal—”

“Stop!” Win held up his hand. “I want to call my lawyer.”

Sam rose to his feet, bracing his palms against the table, and put his face in front of Win’s. “Yeah, I thought you might.”

Chapter 38

Ethan
trudged through the forest, along the creek bed, holding Stedman’s uninjured arm around his neck, trying to support his weight. He spotted a clearing flooded with sunlight about forty yards in front of them.

“You need to rest,” Ethan said. “Let’s see if we can make it to that fallen tree.”

Ethan helped Stedman lower himself into a sitting position and then sat next to him, listening to himself pant. Could Stedman sense his doubt that they were headed in the right direction?

“How’re you feeling?” Ethan said.

“A little woozy. But I’ll be all right. We need to keep moving. I wish we could take that patch of sunlight with us the rest of the way. But the forest is going to get dense again before we get out of here.”

“How can you be sure where we are? It all looks the same to me.”

“Because that break in the canopy is the only one along this creek. Trust me, this is the way to Deer Path.” Stedman winced and grabbed his shoulder. “We’ll come out near the place where I hid my truck.”

“I never thought to hide my car,” Ethan said. “I guess it’s my fault we were shot at.”

“Not really. Davison’s men probably put a tracking device on my truck. I’m not safe anywhere. At least I was able to tell Chief Jessup what I know. Let’s hope she believed me and will act on it.” Stedman motioned toward the clearing. “We’ll have to skirt the sunlight. It’d be quicker to cut through it, but I don’t like the idea of being that vulnerable, do you?”

“No. I’m all for playing it safe.”

Ethan sat in the quiet and enjoyed the patch of blue sky above the clearing, knowing that the thick branches of the forest canopy would soon block out most of the light. He felt as if he had walked into a creepy fantasy novel, and Stedman’s grandmother was the only one besides Davison’s goons who knew where they were.

Brill had to have heard the gunshots before Stedman dropped the cell phone into the water. Had she told Vanessa? Was Vanessa doing what he had asked in his last text message? Was she praying and trusting—or was she too distraught?

Ethan glanced at his watch. “We’ve been on the move for twenty-five minutes. How long will it take us to get to your truck?”

“Another half hour, maybe longer. We’re moving at a snail’s pace. Sorry I’m too weak to walk without your help.”

Bang!

Ethan pulled Stedman to the ground, his heart pounding wildly, and crouched behind the fallen tree.

He pressed his fingers to the stinging on his neck and felt blood.

Another bullet shot past him and ricocheted off a huge pine tree.

Stedman swore. “I was hoping we had ditched this guy. You’re bleeding. Let me see.”

Ethan turned his head so Stedman could examine his neck.

“It’s hard to get a good look without more light, but I think the bullet just grazed you.”

“Aren’t you going to shoot back?” Ethan said.

“Not yet. I don’t want to waste ammunition. I doubt he even knows I have a gun. Maybe I can take him by surprise.”

“Do you even know how to shoot that thing?”

“Good enough to make him think I do. I just don’t know how close he is. If he’s got a rifle, he’s probably shooting from a distance. No point in wasting bullets we might need.”

Ethan’s heart sank. “Are we just supposed to hunker down here like a couple of sitting ducks?”

“What choice do we have?” Stedman’s eyes were wide, the gun shaking in his hand.

Ethan peeked over the top of the horizontal tree trunk and saw nothing but trees and darkness.

Lord, we don’t want to kill anyone. But we don’t want to die either. Please get us out of here.

Brill paced in front of the glass wall in Sam Parker’s office, waiting for an update from search and rescue regarding Ethan and Stedman.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” Sam said.

“I’m encouraged now that we got the warrants for Win Davison’s two homes and his office—and also Wolski’s house and Dupontes’s apartment. Let’s hope we find enough evidence to put Davison and Dupontes away permanently. Of course, if it means Win moves Davison Technologies to Chattanooga, we’re going to have nine hundred unemployed citizens and a ruined local economy. People may tar and feather us to show their gratitude.”

Sam shook his head. “Win’s father is still involved in the business as a consultant. Win’s oldest daughter could take the helm in four or five years when she gets out of college. As proud as that family is and as long as they’ve had roots down here, I don’t see them closin’ it down or movin’ it either. I think Win enjoyed threatening to do it because it made him feel powerful.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Can I get you somethin’ to drink?” Sam said.

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

There was a long stretch of comfortable silence.

Finally Sam said, “Brill, we’ve had our differences. But I really appreciate what you did today.”

“All I did was ask the right person to flush out Win Davison. We both know he wouldn’t have come in and talked to
me
without his lawyer.”

“Because he knew he couldn’t manipulate you. You refuse to be intimidated.” Sam’s grin appeared under his mustache. “I ought to know. I’ve sure tried.”

Brill flashed him a wry smile and folded her arms across her chest. “Ours hasn’t been a match made in heaven. But I respect what you bring to the table, Sam. I always have. Today was a perfect example. I told you I needed a fox and not a lion. You were terrific.”

“What—you don’t think I can roar, too?” He let out a hearty laugh and for the first time she saw Sam the man.

“I’d like to think this could be a fresh start in our professional relationship,” Sam said. “To tell you the truth, we make a great team. I admit I had my doubts when you first came on the scene. I didn’t think my deputies would take you seriously.”

“Chief Hennessey’s boots were too big for the little woman, eh?”

Sam arched his eyebrows. “Something like that. You have to understand, there’s never been a female police chief in Stanton County until you came along. I guess it was just a matter of teachin’ us old dogs new tricks.”

“So am I officially one of the good ol’ boys?”

“Who wants another good ol’ boy?” He offered her his hand. “You’re the chief of police—and a darned good one.”

Vanessa sat on the glider on the screened-in porch, Carter asleep in her arms, feeling as if she were in a world of her own. She was vaguely aware of Rachel Howell sitting behind her at the patio table, thumbing through a magazine. And the clanking of dishes in the kitchen. She heard the door open and close.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” a voice whispered.

Vanessa looked up and saw Tessa’s kind face.

“Not at all.”

Tessa sat beside her, and Vanessa couldn’t help but think that Ethan should be sitting there.

Tessa took her hand and squeezed it. “Ethan may be missing, but God has him in His sight. I’ve felt for a long time that the Lord had His hand on the two of you—well, actually, the three of you. Ethan is right where God wants him.”

Vanessa moved the glider faster. “It’s so hard to think that way when he might already be dead. I’m scared, Tessa.” A tear spilled down her cheek. “I love him so much.”

“I know you do. We all do. We need to keep praying that he’s all right and will get to safety on his own, or that search and rescue will find him.”

“It’s a long shot that they’ll ever spot him from a helicopter. There’s white water everywhere, but there are so many trees.”

“Brill said they’re checking the areas where Ethan and Stedman could have gotten a strong cell signal. That narrows it down some.”

Vanessa sighed. “Why does God have to test our faith? I mean why do I need another trial? Why does Ethan? Haven’t we been through enough?”

Tessa strengthened her grip on Vanessa’s hand. “It seems that way. But is faith really faith until it’s tested? It’s one thing to claim we have it. It’s another to actually put it into practice.”

“But why is all that necessary?”

“I suppose because we’re not puppets, honey. We have free will. And choosing to have faith is the very crux of having a relationship with God. Unless we put our faith in Him, we make everything He promises us in His Word null and void. We know from Scripture that without faith, it’s impossible to please God.”

Vanessa put her cheek next to Carter’s. “It’s strange, but in his last text message to me, Ethan said he was stepping out in faith, and that I should pray for a good outcome. He said he needed me to trust him and God.”

“It sounds to me like Ethan knew exactly what he was doing.”

“I feel so helpless,” Vanessa said.

“You are helpless, but He is able. We just have to sit tight and let God be in control.”

Ethan sat on his heels behind the fallen tree trunk and listened for anything that would indicate they were being tracked. Since they had been following the creek bed from a short distance, the sound of the rushing water wasn’t loud enough to drown out other noises.

“How long are we going to wait here?” Ethan said. “The forest is losing light by the minute.”

“We should probably move on.” Stedman, his face soaked with sweat, repositioned his wounded arm in the sling.

“You really need a doctor. You’re too weak to be traipsing through the woods, dodging a hit man with a rifle.”

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Ethan turned his head and listened. “Do you hear that?”

“Yeah. The woods are vibrating—it’s a chopper, man!”

“They must be looking for us! I’m going to run over there in the clearing and wave my arms.” He turned to go and was yanked back by his back pocket.

“And get yourself shot,” Stedman said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Well, so is staying out here with a hit man in the shadows. I’d rather take my chances of getting rescued. If the guy starts shooting at me, pelt him with gunfire and try to hold him off long enough for me to get the attention of whoever is in that chopper. This might be our only chance.”

Ethan broke free and took off running toward the clearing, the sound of the chopper now distinct.

Lord, let them see me! Let them see me!

He pushed himself with every ounce of strength he had, images of Vanessa and Carter flashing through his mind. He wanted to live his life. To enjoy being in love. To see what the future held. He didn’t want to die in a dark, obscure forest and become a banquet for wild animals.

He reached the clearing and raced into the light, waving his arms just as the search-and-rescue helicopter flew across the hole in the canopy and disappeared beyond the treetops.

Ethan slowed to a stop, his hands on his knees, his side feeling as if he had been kicked by a mule. He labored to catch his breath, the hot sun beating down on his bare back, the helicopter’s eerie reverberations taunting him. Had the search-and-rescue crew seen him? Or had he come into view a second too late?

Shots rang out. Ethan felt a searing pain in the fleshy part of his calf and almost fell to his knees.

A barrage of gunfire followed. Had Stedman answered the onslaught?

Ethan hobbled out of the clearing and into the dark forest and collapsed. Would Davison’s hit man keep advancing until he had killed them both?