Calculated Revenge (5 page)

“N
o, Mattie. You’re not in trouble.” From a seat beside the little girl at a student table in her classroom, Laney patted the child’s pudgy hand. “You did the right thing bringing the box to me.”

Across the table from them, Noah nodded and smiled for Mathilda’s benefit. His head still reeled from the horrifying object Laney had brought to him minutes ago. They’d left the box and its grisly contents locked in his office while they interviewed the child. The little girl wriggled under their scrutiny. The tension that filled both adults must have transmitted to her.

He sat forward. “We’d like to know who gave it to you, what the person said, and when and where they gave it to you.”

The child reddened and her mouth worked like a fish, but nothing came out.

Laney scrunched her cute nose at him. “Four questions in one.” She returned her attention to her student. “Let’s start with who gave you the box, Mattie. Can you tell us that?”

The little girl bobbed her head, and shadows dispelled from the full moon face. Noah settled back to watch the master at work. She knew how to handle kids, especially the more challenged ones.

“Who was it?” Laney prompted.

“The mailman,” the little girl announced as if sharing the day of the week with simple folks.

“The mail—” Noah burst out, then stifled himself at Laney’s upraised palm.
Don’t get ahead of things here, buddy.

“What made you think it was the mail carrier?” She leaned closer to the child.

“The stripey pants. And the shirt was blue, too. That’s what the mailman wears.”

“Good observation.” Laney smiled at the girl, who grinned back. “Where were you when this mailman gave you the package?”

“By our mailbox at the end of our driveway.”

“While you were waiting for the bus?”

The little head bobbed again.

“Have you ever seen this particular mailman before?”

Mathilda nodded, and electric tension coursed through Noah. Maybe they’d get a name, or at least a lead on a specific person.

“I see the man in the stripey pants every day I’m not in school,” the child said. “’Cept a course on Sunday.”

Noah suppressed a groan. Like most witnesses, Mathilda made an assumption based on a visual association—that all men in blue uniforms with stripes down the legs of the pants are mailmen—and didn’t bother to notice the face above the clothing. Or maybe in Mathilda’s situation, she wasn’t capable of more differentiation. Noah’s palms fisted. This creep sure knew how to play his camouflage. And taking advantage of a mentally handicapped child was scraping the bottom of the barrel. Correction, this guy was scraping the fungus
below
the barrel—and worse, considering what he’d done to Laney’s sister.

And might do again.

If someone didn’t stop him.

He frowned and crossed his arms. Not going there. Plenty of capable lawmen were on the case. Even Burns had a rep for
making good collars. Noah would admit that much. And Hank was top-notch, small town or not. That’s what he’d kept telling himself over the weekend when his hand hovered over the telephone, itching to make a call to Laney. She’d never know how much anguish such self-control cost him when he wanted to wrap her and Briana in a cocoon and carry them away to a safe place. But where was that in this world?

Laney sent him a long look, as if wondering where his head had gone. He sat up straighter and nodded.

She turned toward her student. “The postman doesn’t usually come to your place before school, does he?”

Mathilda gazed down at the table, where her hands rested, stubby fingers flexing. “He said it was a special delivery for my pretty teacher, and he was going to let me give it to you ’cuz I’m special, too.” She lifted her head, and devotion glowed toward Laney from small brown eyes.

“You are special, Mattie,” Laney affirmed. “Did the man say anything else?”

The child scratched an ear beneath dark hair. “Only my teacher could open it. And I was real, real careful. Didn’t let nobody else touch the box. Uh-uh!” Mathilda swung her head back and forth.

“Excellent,” Noah said. At least, if no one handled the container except Mathilda and Laney forensic evidence might be less tainted. “Is there anything else you remember about this man?”

Mathilda scrunched up her thick eyebrows. “His dog must of got one of his shoes.”

“His dog?” Laney tucked in her chin. “Did he have an animal with him?”

“Naw.” The child shook her head. “But one of the toes was coming apart. Like when our dog got my brother’s shoe.” She giggled.

Noah lifted his feet. “Which shoe was it? Do you remember?”

“That one.” The child pointed to his left loafer.

“And the other shoe was fine?” He withdrew his feet.

“Yup. All good.”

Noah frowned. Both of Eddie’s shoes had been scuffed up.

“But he had clown hands,” the little girl added.

Laney’s wide-eyed gaze met Noah’s. “Clown hands! What do you mean, honey?” She touched the little girl’s arm.

“Like at the circus. All white and funny and not—” She crossed her eyes as if searching inside for the right word. “Not real. You know!” Frustration tinged the child’s voice.

“The mailman was wearing gloves?” Noah canted his head.

A smile spread across the little girl’s face. “No, silly. It’s not winter time.” She fluttered her fingers. “They felt like my bouncy ball.”

“He touched you?” Horror bled from Laney’s tone.

Mathilda shrank in her seat. “Right here.” She patted her left cheek. “When he handed me the box.”

An audible breath left Laney’s mouth. “That’s okay, then.” She cleared her throat, darting a glance at Noah, who didn’t trust himself to utter a word. “You did great, Mattie. Thanks so much.” But every tense plane of her face proclaimed that nothing was all right. “I’ll have an aide take you back to your classroom.”

“Okay.” The little girl hopped up. The poor kid was probably very ready to get away from the grilling.

Laney rose and took her student by the hand, but her gaze was distant and haunted.

The little girl looked up at her teacher. “Was it nice?”

“What?” Laney focused on her charge.

“Your present.”

“It was…a doll.” The words came out a bit ragged.

Mathilda nodded as they reached the door. “That’s good. I like dollies.”

Laney let Mathilda out and exchanged a few murmured words with someone in the hall, then wheeled toward Noah.

“Surgical gloves,” he said.

“On his hands?”

“Yes. Mathilda has probably never seen any and didn’t know how to describe them.” He scowled. This perp was smart and devious and ruthless. Fat chance they’d find any of his prints on the box.

Laney approached the table. The drawn and frightened look on her face wrapped fingers of guilt around his heart.

“We’ll have to take the next step now.” His tone edged toward a growl.

“Call the sheriff and the feds?” Laney wilted into her chair. “Burns is going to have a fit that we didn’t call him
before
we talked to Mattie.”

“Tough cookies.” Noah rose. “I’ll go do the deed.”

A wild giggle spurted from her throat. “Is it a crime to impersonate a federal employee like a mailman?”

Noah snorted. “That’ll be the least of his worries when I get my hands on him.” He stalked from the room.

Finally alone in her room after the interrogations, Laney sat slumped at her desk. She glanced at the clock, then rubbed her forehead. Three horrible hours had passed, and the lower grades would be at lunch right now, including her Briana. Thank goodness, her little girl hadn’t been involved in this round of questioning. Just poor little Mathilda and her mother and father.

Laney had called the child’s parents in while Noah notified Hank. She’d warned Mr. and Mrs. Stier to come loaded for bear when talking to Agent Burns, but still the child had come out in tears and the parents pale and shell-shocked. It was all Laney could do not to slap the smug look off Agent Burns’s face as he followed them out of the interview room. Then Noah had
dismissed Mathilda for the day and escorted the troubled family from the building. He hadn’t said anything to her then, and she hadn’t seen him since.

What had Noah meant by that last statement in her classroom, before he made the phone call that started the flood of lawmen in the school all over again? He’d talked as if he was going after this creep. Had he reconsidered? Was he going to take her case, or was he only speaking as an angry school principal?

“Laney, can I talk to you?” Noah’s voice called from her doorway.

She looked up and motioned him inside.

He perched on the edge of her desk, mouth down-turned. “The Stiers have decided to keep their daughter home until the perp is caught.”

Laney shook her head. “I don’t blame them. The poor child has had a scare that will rattle her world. She’ll probably be afraid of mailmen from now on.”

“At least she’s not missing…or worse.”

She gulped and fought prickles behind her eyes. This man had approached Mathilda so easily in a guise that the little girl trusted. What if he found a simple way to get to Briana?

“The parents told me everything Burns wrung out of their daughter,” Noah continued. “Most of it was the same as she told us, but there were a few additional details. Evidently, the bogus mailman wore sunglasses and a hat, and his hair was the color of straw.”

Laney snorted. “What are the odds he was wearing a wig?”

“Excellent, I’d say.” He folded his hands in his lap. “I’ve given it a lot of thought this morning, and I believe you and your daughter should also end your school year today.”

Laney’s gaze fell to the cheerful disarray of colored papers, craft items and lesson plans on her desktop. “What about my students?”

“There’s only four days left of the school year. They can handle mainstream for that long. Fill out your student evaluations at home, and I’ll make sure Briana gets to finish any tests or assignments from your apartment. She’ll be passed on to the next grade. No problem.”

She quavered a sigh. “I agree with the wisdom of your decision for the safety of the school, but it hurts.”

“For your safety and peace of mind, too, Laney. You can be with your daughter every minute. The FBI will have you under surveillance, along with every law enforcement officer in town. And I’ll check up on you, too.”

Her pulse leaped. Would he really? Her nostrils pinched and she glanced away. A phone call or two didn’t mean much if an old wound kept him from doing what truly mattered—catching the scum that threatened her daughter.

“So how long are Burns and his bunch going to stick around?” She twiddled a paper clip between her fingers. “The FBI won’t waste manpower on staking out my place forever if they don’t see some action. And so far, our lurking creep has run below everybody’s radar.”

Noah nodded. “I agree we’re dealing with a clever, subtle stalker, but he seems to be obsessed with taunting you. So maybe he’ll dance too close to the flame and get caught.”

“I’m sure that’s what the FBI is hoping for. I feel like the worm on the end of a hook.” Laney brushed strands of hair off her forehead. “I’d better get my things together so I can leave.” She rose, grabbed up a sheaf of papers and hugged them to her chest.

Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. After receiving the doll, she’d run instinctively to Noah. But he was leaving her and Briana in the hands of an FBI supervisor who regarded them as little more than bait, and a small-town police force that didn’t often deal with anything more serious than vandalism and penny-ante drug dealing.

And then there was her career to consider. She gazed around her room. Was she leaving this school forever?

Noah stood, and she looked him in the eye. “Maybe it’s a selfish thing to be concerned about at a time like this, but I’m nervous about my position here. I don’t have tenure yet. With the danger that’s been visited on the students because of me, the school board may think twice about renewing my contract.”

“You know that’s not my decision to make.” His words were gentle.

“But your recommendation makes a big difference.”

One side of his firm mouth lifted. “I admire your gift with the students. I won’t have a problem recommending you in the professional arena. But I agree that the school board may not consider you a good risk if this joker hasn’t been caught before next fall.” He rubbed the side of one finger across his upper lip. Then he lifted his head. The set of his mouth betrayed an abiding pain, but his gaze held determination. “That’s one of the many reasons I can’t dodge my conscience any longer. I’ve decided to take your case.”

Laney dropped the papers. They fluttered to the floor as she gave a glad cry and flung her arms around Noah’s neck.

For the briefest instant, Noah returned the hug, then he set her away from him.

She backed off, cheeks hot. “I guess you can see how much your involvement means to me.”

He’d better not think she meant anything else by that hug. Sure, she was interested in him as a man, but romance had been the farthest thing from her mind right then. Hadn’t it? Pleasant tingles said maybe her subconscious had a mind of its own.

He lifted a hand in farewell. “I’ll stop by your apartment this evening, and we can strategize. You can fill me in on the details of what happened with your sister.”

Laney nodded. Talking about her sister’s disappearance
would hurt like lancing an abscess, but it was necessary. “Come about seven-thirty. You can say good-night to Briana and then we can talk.”

After Noah left, she straightened her room and stuffed everything she thought she might need into a tote bag, then went to collect her daughter. The memory of Noah’s arms around her replayed in her mind over and over. If only he’d held her a few seconds longer. In that breathless moment, she’d tasted a feeling she hadn’t enjoyed since tragedy marred her childhood—a sense of safety.

N
oah stood outside Laney’s apartment door at 7:29 p.m. He knew the exact minute because he’d checked his watch a half dozen times while walking up three flights of stairs. He didn’t want to arrive early and betray how eager he was to be with Laney and her cute-as-a-button little girl. Then again, he didn’t want to be late. That would be disrespectful to her situation. Noah knocked on the door. A few seconds later, locks rattled and the door opened to reveal Laney wearing a shy smile.

“You’re very prompt,” she said.

Warmth crept up Noah’s neck. Maybe all his planning had succeeded only in painting himself a bit obsessive.

“Hi, Mr. Ryder,” chirped the little girl by Laney’s side.

Noah bent over with his hands on his knees. “Hi, there, princess.”

Briana giggled. “You noticed my pajamas.”

In truth, he hadn’t, but as she skipped away, he saw that her pink pjs were adorned with ball-gowned princesses.

“Come on,” she called. “We’re going to play Chutes and Ladders.”

Laney wrinkled her nose. “I hope you don’t mind. She’s had her heart set on a game with you all evening. When that’s done, I’ll put her to bed.”

Chuckling, Noah entered the apartment. He found himself in a neat living room furnished with a couch, a couple of stuffed chairs and a modest-size, flat screen TV. The décor was tastefully simple in a country theme.

He turned toward his hostess. “I warn you, I’m downright dangerous at Chutes and Ladders.”

“I’m very afraid.” She laughed, motioning him into a small, neat kitchen. The game was set up on the table, and Briana was already perched on a chair.

“You sit there, Mr. Ryder.” The little girl pointed to a chair on her right. “And Mama there.” She pointed to the opposite seat. “And I get to go first.”

“Of course.” Noah slid into his assigned place. “Princesses always go first.”

The little girl’s blue eyes danced, and Laney sent him a look he’d trade an arm and a leg to keep on seeing. A half hour later, after the princess triumphed at the game and was put to bed, Laney brought a cup of coffee to him where he sat in one of the stuffed chairs in her living room.

She eased onto the end of the couch closest to his chair, cradling her mug. “I suppose we need to get down to business. First of all, I’d like to assure you that I’ve spoken to my dad, and he’s more than glad to pay whatever your rate is.”

Noah suppressed a sigh. He hated to start in with this bad business again. But then, that’s why he was here. “Don’t give my fee a thought at this point.” He took a drink from his mug. She made good coffee. “I’ll hammer that out with your father at an appropriate moment.”

Laney nodded. “Fair enough. I suppose my part is to answer your questions. What would you like to know?”

“First of all, I’d like to be as assured as I possibly can of Briana’s safety.”

“I’m with you on that.” Laney sipped her brew.

“Getting her out of here might be the best option. Is her father around? Maybe he could take her.”

She snickered and shook her head. “I have no idea where Clayton is. We haven’t seen him since Briana was two months old.”

“I’m sorry.” Was he really? The little leap of glee in his gut said no. He hid his reaction by focusing on another swallow from his cup.

“It’s for the best, really.” She set her mug on a trivet on the side table. “Clay and I were frivolous college kids when we met, fresh out of high school. We fell madly in love—or so we thought—and pretty soon Briana was on the way. She wasn’t in our plans, but I couldn’t think of her as a mistake. Clay did.” She scowled. “Marrying me was his attempt at honor, I suppose, but he bailed after two months of being trapped in the trials of infant care. End of story.”

“His loss.” Noah crossed an ankle over his knee.
And some other lucky man’s gain.
He kept that part to himself.

Laney blushed and glanced away. “The only place I could send Bree that I’d feel comfortable is my parents’ home in Louisville, Kentucky.”

Noah nodded. “I think you should both go.”

“Both? But I want to help you with the investigation.”

He frowned, evil memories crowding his head about that other time his client got involved. “The best thing you can do is find a safe hidey-hole and let me figure out who this guy is.”

“Without distractions.” Her gaze was frank and direct, not offended.

He answered with a thin smile. The lady was sharp and level-headed.

She frowned but nodded. “I suppose I can understand that. I just want this guy caught and put away so I can take a deep breath again.”

Noah nodded, a weight leaving his chest. Laney wasn’t going to argue. Renee would have given him twenty reasons why she needed to get in on the action, and look what her enthusiasm got her—an early grave. But then, she hadn’t had a daughter to think about, and life had taught Laney caution at an early age.

“Tell you what,” he said. “You lay low here for the next few days until school is out. You can finish your evaluations and make sure Briana gets her work done.” He polished off his coffee and set the mug aside. “I checked with the sheriff, and he’s heard sort of sideways from one of the FBI agents in town that the team is heading back to Minneapolis tomorrow. But they’re leaving an agent to shadow you around in case this guy tries to make another move.”

“Great!” She rolled her eyes. “I get to keep my shadow.”

“You don’t find that comforting?”

“I don’t find comfort in any aspect of this situation.” Her nostrils flared. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but even the efforts to protect me are intrusive.”

Noah looked away and studied a painting of a pastoral scene on the wall. He wasn’t about to tell her that, in his opinion, Agent Burns wasn’t as concerned about protecting Laney or Briana as he was about adding a major notch in his belt by solving a cold case.

“You said until school lets out.” She cocked her head. “What did you have in mind then?”

He smiled. She didn’t miss much. “I’ll escort you to Louisville personally. I’d like a chance to talk to your parents before I visit the scene of the original crime.”

Laney shifted in her seat. “Maybe while we’re marking time until the end of the school year, you could do a little research on Richard Hodge.”

“The school custodian?”

She nodded. “I don’t have any reason to suspect him other than the built-in opportunity he’d have to plant that backpack on the playground, and he doesn’t seem to like me.”

Noah let out a wry chuckle. “I’ve yet to determine if Richard likes anyone, including himself. But I’ve checked people out on less. Sure, I’ll look into Richard.” He unbent his leg and stretched it out beside the other one. “Maybe you heard that I caught a guy watching the kids on the playground yesterday.”

“Ellen told me.” She nodded. “Sounds like he was some brokenhearted dad.”

“I don’t think the story’s that simple. Hank told me Edward Foreman claims he was on the road for his office supply business the day the backpack was left on the playground. But following up his story, the sheriff’s office can’t account for at least two hours of his time. The playground watcher’s not off the hook as far as I’m concerned.” Noah gave her a quick description of the man. “If you see him anywhere near, call the cops pronto.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” Her brief laugh held a sharp edge. “Anyone else I should know about?”

Noah planted his elbows on his knees. “Do you know a man by the name of Glen Crocker?”

“You mean the electrician? Sure. The building super had him up here to fix an outlet problem a few weeks ago.” She gasped. “You mean, he’s a suspect?”

“He went missing the day before the backpack appeared and hasn’t surfaced since. The timing could be a coincidence, but it’s enough to warrant a little digging.”

Laney pressed a hand to her cheek. “I’ve never heard a bad word about him, but I thought he seemed a little too full of himself.”

Noah stiffened. “Did he flirt with you?”

“Not really. Just had that ‘I’m all it’ strut about him.” She
wrinkled her nose. “Reminded me of Clayton, only I know that Glen’s a family man.”

Noah’s gaze narrowed. “He didn’t show extra attention to Briana, did he?”

Her face paled. “Well, he did seem taken with her. Said something about wishing he had a little girl to round out the family.”

He frowned and rubbed the arms of the easy chair. That didn’t sound good in light of what he’d discovered.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Her tone was more of a demand than a question.

“I called in a favor from a friend in a strategic place.” His gaze met hers. She needed to know everything he did about this guy. “Turns out Crocker dodged an indictment for statutory rape sixteen years ago by skipping the country until the statute of limitations ran out. I got the word today and told Hank already. With a history of involvement with a minor, our up-standing electrician just went to the top of the sheriff’s suspect list. My friend is sending me a packet with the details of the case that never got to court.”

Air gusted between her lips. “And this man has lived and worked here for years, just a clean-cut family man.” Her tone held an angry edge. “You never know about people, do you?”

“A criminal history isn’t conclusive, just suggestive. And, trust us, we’ll follow up. Now, tell me about Grace and the day she disappeared.”

His heart clenched as pain settled over Laney’s fine features.

Laney wound her fingers together. She’d known this moment would come, but that didn’t make the subject any easier to talk about.

She closed her eyes. “We lived in the little community of Grand Valley in southeastern Minnesota at the time. Grand Valley is actually smaller than Cottonwood Grove, and every
body knows everybody and pretty much everything about each other.”

“A lot like here.” Noah’s gentle tones carried to her.

She nodded, but didn’t open her eyes. “As I told you, I was supposed to walk Gracie home after school, but I ran off to play with friends as soon as we got to our block.” She swallowed a knot in her throat. “When I stepped into my house a couple of hours later, the whole neighborhood was searching for her—and me, too, since I was supposed to be with her.” She barked an acrid chuckle. “Relief at my appearance was short-lived as everyone, including me, realized Grace was out there somewhere alone. Or worse, with someone who had taken here.”

Laney hugged herself. Foul memories gagged her.

She swallowed and steeled herself to continue. “The sheriff came the next day to say blood was found in a ravine outside of town. They’d test to see if it was Grace’s, but I think we all knew right then that she was gone. We found out later it was her blood.” She heaved a long breath and opened her eyes. Noah’s compassionate gaze rested on her. “There’s been no trace of my sister again until the backpack.”

He nodded. “Grace was wearing the pack when she disappeared, so it follows that the perp needed to return to wherever he put her in order to retrieve it.”

“An unmarked grave.” Laney hung her head. A dark and un-mourned place sweet Gracie would never be if only Laney had been more interested in acting like a big sister rather than indulging her own few minutes of fun.

“I don’t think she’s in a grave. Something like a tomb maybe.”

Laney’s head jerked up. “Why do you say that?”

“If that backpack had been buried in dirt, it would have disintegrated to pulp by now. I’d say it must have been left in a spot with good protection from the elements. Are there any caves around Grand Valley?”

“Some near the ravine where the blood was found. But they’ve been searched multiple times.” She spread her hands.

“Then maybe it’s time to look again. The killer might have disturbed something or left fresh evidence when he went to get the pack. Or maybe there’s a cave around there that only the killer knows about.”

“That would mean he’d have to be someone local.” Laney gripped the arm of the couch. “No one on our current suspect list lived in Grand Valley back then. And I can’t think of a soul from that town who would be capable of such a thing.”

Noah shook his head. “Didn’t you just say you never know about people?”

“Why would someone who knew her hurt simple, sweet Gracie?” Horror boggled her mind.

“That we don’t know yet, but the taunts you’re receiving are purposeful. I think the person we’re looking for knows you, whether you know them or not.”

Shivers cascaded through Laney. “I hope you’re wrong. It’s hard enough to think about Gracie’s death being random. I don’t know if I could handle it being personal.”

“Did your family have any enemies in Grand Valley?”

“My family?” She stared at Noah. Had the man lost his mind? “My parents were beloved and respected in the community. Deservedly so.”

“I’m sure they were.” Noah’s tone was soothing. “But jealousy is a powerful motive. Maybe someone at your dad’s place of work? Someone you wouldn’t necessarily be able to identify, but he could?”

She surged to her feet. “Are you saying that someone was jealous of my dad so they killed his daughter?”

“I’m not saying anything.” Noah gazed at her askance. “I’m theorizing. Probing for possibilities.”

“Okay, I get it.” Laney ran a hand through her hair. “I’m
just…thrown by this notion that the killer could be someone familiar with our family. All I can tell you is this.” She wagged a finger at him. “We Thompsons have no skeletons in our closets. I should know.”

Noah didn’t reply, but if someone had invented a nonsensical-notion eraser, Laney would have used it to wipe the skeptical look off his face.