Tiger's Eye (23 page)

Chance opened the back of the pickup so Thor could enjoy a friendly breeze on the short ride home. “Busy day tomorrow?”

“You could say that.” I told him I had to take Keesha to the vet, pop over to the spy store to follow up on a lead, read over some files, and possibly interview a metal sculptor for a profile piece. I also filled him in on my meeting with Leo and his findings regarding the Junkyard Graveyard, Mr. Scoog, and Cole Tripp.

We discussed all that for a few minutes before we pulled into the driveway.

At the cottage, Chance jogged around to the passenger door to open it for me and then lowered the back gate for Thor. I fumbled for my key as the dog jumped down and chased a croaking frog.

“Hey, Stacy, I was thinking it might be nice to go away this weekend. Just you and me.”

I shoved the key in the lock and twisted. Then I turned to him. “It sounds like paradise, but Friday is the summer solstice. It’s a big deal to Birdie. However…” I snaked my arms around his waist and kissed his neck. “We could lock ourselves in the cottage Saturday and Sunday.” I kissed the other side. “Order delivery.” Then his chin. “Listen to some music.” Then his lips. “Get busy getting dirty.”

His breath increased with each word, each kiss tensed his muscles, and I could feel a fire building between us. When I kicked the door open, his lips twisted into a smirk.

Thor weaved his way through and crashed on the sofa.

Chance waved a finger at me and said, “You only want me for my tools, vixen.”

I pulled him through the threshold. “That may be true, but not all your tools are tucked in your toolbox.”

Chance scratched his head and stared at the demolition. “Care to explain?”

“I could…” I turned to stare at the pile of drywall and wood. I had tossed the nails earlier. “Or I could slip into something a lot less comfortable and explain it to you in Braille.”

Chance kicked the door shut, hoisted me in his arms, and carried me to the bedroom.

Chapter 30

“Dogs feel very strongly that they should always go with you in the car, in case the need should arise for them to bark violently at nothing right in your ear.”

—Dave Barry

I woke up before both Chance and Thor, anxious to find out what was written on those pages. I took a quick shower and climbed into a pair of running shorts, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes, foregoing the makeup. I twisted my hair into a clip and put on a pot of coffee. Then I took my findings and my own notebook out onto the front porch to read.

I first sifted through the folder. It didn’t hold research or notes from my father’s work as I had hoped. Instead, there were newspaper clippings about drug busts as far away as Kansas.

Teen arrested for intent to sell ecstasy in McHenry County

Student found beaten, unconscious at University of Missouri

Cocaine, $15,000 cash, seized at Pekin apartment

Counterfeit money circulating through Barrington

Grow house—discovered outside of Madison—torched

Kansas City state troopers pull over semi—find meth lab

I stopped and read that one.

Kansas City police officers say they have arrested a man after pursuing a suspected “rolling meth lab.” Police say the suspects led them on a high-speed chase through the downtown area at ten o’clock Thursday evening. The alleged chase ceased when a second suspect jumped out of the moving vehicle and the truck came to a stop. Chemicals used to produce methamphetamine and several needles were found inside the vehicle. The name of the driver is expected to be released after charges are filed. The second suspect fled the scene. Police encourage anyone with information to call the tip line number at the bottom of the page.

The dates of the articles varied widely, but the last one was dated two years before my father’s death. There were a couple of names listed in the cocaine bust, Timothy Steinhoffel and Gregory Davis. Neither rang a bell. The burning grow house was discovered in an abandoned warehouse with no arrests made. The name of the student who was attacked was Kyle Waubaowski, but the teen selling pills must have been underage.

So why was he clipping these? And was the man driving the semi in the meth arrest Cole Tripp?

I tapped my pen against the folder and thought about that. Were all of these articles related to Cole Tripp? Perhaps he was the one who fled the scene and he got good at slipping under the radar. Was he a relative of my
dad’s? A friend? My father didn’t talk much about his past and I didn’t ask. Being a happy kid with more than enough family, I never missed not having that second set of grandparents. Although, I knew his parents had both died in a car crash when he was eighteen. He used the insurance money to put himself through school, where he met my mother and built the newspaper from the ground up.

What was this all about?

I sighed, put the file on the table next to me, and opened up the tiny pad of spiral-bound paper that had been neatly tucked inside.

A man came to me, claiming that I was in danger and I suspect RJ is behind it. The name changes throughout the years, but the crimes are always volatile. Drugs, thievery, forgery, violence. When we spoke two years ago, I vowed that it was the last penny I would ever give. And the last conversation I would ever agree to. I threatened exposure to the authorities, warned that I had the evidence, and I would use it. I would no longer protect a sociopath.

I have a family to protect. A loving wife and vibrant daughter who depend on me. They know nothing about RJ, and it’s best that way. If they knew, it could only hurt them. So that is why I am burying all that I have—all that will protect my family from a maniac.

I have aided RJ as best I could, under the guise that it was my job to do so, although always the escape route is preplanned by my foster sibling. Those, I refuse to help execute.

But the crimes grow more sinister and the money is never enough. My conscience—once filled with guilt for being the blood child, the favorite child—can no longer justify my actions.

Oscar is the only one who knows about the wall. I requested to hide a “time capsule” here when we were renovating the cottage. Lying, I told him it would be a gift for Stacy to unveil on her thirtieth birthday. I also plan to entrust him with a very valuable family heirloom, hidden inside a lockbox to be given to her on the same date.

One I hope her mother and I will give in person.

Inside that lockbox is—

“There you are.”

I jumped halfway out of my skin as Chance came through the screen door.

“Hey, you all right?”

I shut the notebook and said, “Of course. Just going over some research.”

He looked at me funny, kissed me, and said, “I’ll call you later.”

I watched as his truck kicked up dirt all over the driveway, wondering how many other secrets were waiting for me.

Thor came trotting through the door and immediately watered the lawn. I went inside to get some coffee and finish reading.

The rest of my father’s notes indicated that the lockbox was to be put in my grandfather, Oscar’s, private vault (which only he and his attorney, Stan Plough, have access to) and that it contained evidence to put RJ away. The combination was scribbled on the last page of the notebook.

This was his insurance policy. This was supposed to protect him from becoming RJ’s next victim.

But it got him killed anyway.

I slammed my fist on the counter.

Who was this person? I didn’t even know if RJ was male or female. How old? Had to be younger than my father. And who was the man who warned him?

Something snapped into place then.

Cole. Cole Tripp wanted me to know my father had been murdered. He must have been the one who visited him all those years ago. So he wasn’t a friend of my dad’s. He was a friend—or relative—of RJ.

After two more cups of coffee and a whole lot of brain racking it was time to take Keesha to the vet.

I shoved everything into my bag, checked to see if the Mace was there, tossed it in the car, and trekked over to the inn. I peeked through the back door first and saw Fiona at the stove.

The door was ajar. I slipped past the screen and quietly closed it. I said hello to Fiona and she greeted me with her usual singsong voice.

At least she wasn’t angry.

“Is Keesha ready for her vet appointment?”

Fiona said, “She sure is. You better get a move-on before Birdie sees you. She’s still a bit hot under the collar.”

Of course. “Fiona, do you remember if my father ever had a relative named RJ?”

She was whisking eggs in a blue ceramic mixing bowl. “Doesn’t ring a bell, dear.”

“Thanks.” I turned to the pretty collie curled up in the corner. “Come on, Keesha.”

I was about to lead her out the back door when I heard the stairs creak, so I hightailed it through the hallway and into the parlor.

The whole band was there, sipping coffee. They looked more alert than they should have for working well into the night, except for the perpetually red-eyed Sebastian.

I greeted them cordially, careful not to touch them. I didn’t need a migraine just then.

Becky let out a startled cry when she saw Keesha. Brian looked at her, concerned.

“Sorry,” she said, hand on her chest. “She startled me. I’m afraid of dogs.”

“I didn’t know that,” Rob said.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Becky snapped.

“And more I wish I didn’t,” said Rob.

Rob. RJ? He looked harmless, like a manager for an Old Navy clothing store.

But so did Ted Bundy.

“I’m sorry, but can you take her out of the room? Please?” Becky asked.

“Oh, right, sure, sorry.”

I led Keesha to the car and heard Thor crying from inside the house. There was enough room for both of them, and since Thor loved all the attention he got at the vet, I decided to bring him along. I was about to shut the hatchback when I noticed those goggles dangling from his mouth.

“Seriously?”

Thor shoved them into my hand.

“You know”—I strapped the goggles over is head and turned them on—“if you had thumbs you’d be the perfect animal.”

Leo called on the way to the vet. “I just wanted you to know that the prints came back from the rig and there’s a set on there that match Cole Tripp.”

I almost dropped the phone. “No, that can’t be.”

“Prints don’t lie.”

“That makes no sense. Why would he tell me my father was murdered if he did it?”

“Guilty conscience. Guy serves time, finds Jesus, then confesses all his sins.”

“But that would put him right back in the cage.”

“Sometimes they have a hard time adjusting to life on the outside. Sometimes they want to go back.”

I tapped the steering wheel. Was Cole RJ? Was he coming after me now? In the letter, Dad said there had been many aliases.

“Do you know if this guy ever used an alias?”

“Negative.”

“Besides the explosion, was there any other history of violence on his record?”

Leo shuffled some papers around. “None.”

“Look, I’m at the vet, can I call you later?”

“You know where to find me.”

I disconnected and swung into the parking lot of the vet’s office. It was located in the middle of a busy strip mall off the highway and there were a lot of cars pulling in and out of the slots. Morning commuters stopping for their coffee, people squeezing in eye doctor appointments before work, and fast-food junkies searching for a hot egg sandwich.

I leashed both dogs and let them out of the car. Keesha was still timid, but I managed to coax her inside with Thor’s chivalrous aid.

Tracey, the thirtysomething assistant, gushed all over the big man the minute we entered, as Keesha stood politely by his side.

“Who wants a cookie?” Tracey sang. “Who wants a cookie?”

Thor barked and Tracey tossed him a peanut butter treat. He caught it in the air and happily chewed, spewing crumbs all over the carpet.

“And who is this?” Tracey asked, handing Keesha a cookie. Keesha shied away, but Thor, never one to turn down a meal, gobbled it up.

“This is the patient. Her name is Keesha and I’m afraid that’s all I know. I found her in the park the other night.”

“Aw, poor thing.” Tracey scratched Keesha’s ear, but the dog just gave her a forlorn look.

I was just happy she didn’t ask how I knew the collie’s name.

We discussed the checkup and my concerns and Tracey created a file. She carried the file down the brightly lit hallway where the examination rooms were situated.

Thor got to work picking up all the scents and smells from the carpet since his last checkup.

Tracey called us back and I told Thor to stay in the waiting room. He collapsed onto the carpet, all four legs taking up half the space.

Keesha kept pace alongside me as Tracey led us into the Rin Tin Tin room. There were pictures of the famous shepherd all over the walls and I read about his history as a war hero while I waited for Dr. Zimmerman.