Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (35 page)

Cole held the vial in front of the kid's face—a face that looked too much like his brother's I-just-want-the-kids-to-like-me look of not so many years ago. If only he'd recognized the signs then, he might've stopped Eddie's downward spiral. “Where'd you get this?”

The boy pressed his lips into a tight line and dropped his gaze to the dirt. No snitch.

“This kid sell it to you?” Zeke seethed, shoving his suspect toward Cole's.

The boy vigorously shook his head, his gaze not lifting past his friend's chest. Although Cole suspected the kid was no friend. Cole gentled his voice. “What's your name?”

“Jimmy. Jimmy Myers,” he said, his voice no louder than a mouse's squeak.

Zeke snorted in disgust and gave his suspect a shake. “Don't think a snot-nosed kid's testimony is gonna save you this time. We got you on tape.” Zeke kicked the kid's foot. “Right down to those fancy shoes.”

Two more cruisers pulled up, one with the girl who'd outrun them already socked in the backseat. Three of the four deputies stepped out of their cars. “We can take in this lot if you want to pick up their foster mother. Save you dragging them back to your car.”

Zeke handed his suspect off to the deputy and had a few words with the girl in their backseat.

“He didn't sell me the vial,” Jimmy said, loud enough for the other kid to hear, no doubt a last-ditch effort to keep a shred of dignity. Was that what Eddie's denial had been, too? Did he really still care what Cole thought of him? Cole hoped so, because then he might have a fighting chance of turning him around.

Zeke returned to Jimmy and got in his face. “You're not doing him or that girl any favors by covering for them, you know. He doesn't care about you or that girl. He's going to get her addicted, and three years from now she'll be turning tricks to pay for her next high. What if that was your little sister?” He shoved the white-faced kid into the back of the second cruiser. “Do you want that on your conscience?”

“Take it easy,” Cole said after Zeke shut the door. “That's a lot to put on a kid.”

Zeke drilled Cole with a scowl so vehement the whites of his eyes flamed red. “Maybe if you'd put it on your kid brother, he wouldn't be such a mess up. Ever think of that?”

Cole blew out a breath. Yeah. Every hour of every day.

THIRTEEN

S
herri strained to slow her choppy breathing at the sight of Dan exiting the room across the corridor from the sheriff's office. “Is it them?” she asked him as he passed.

Cole silenced him with a raised hand before Dan could respond. “You need to decide for yourself. There are more teens in the lineup than our suspects. We need you to identify the ones who attacked you.” Cole escorted her into the tiny dark room.

Catching sight of the lineup of teen boys on the other side of the glass, she said, “They can't see me, can they?”

“No,” Cole reassured. “Take your time.”

“Number two. I recognize those eyes and pug nose and that scar on his lip.” She scanned the faces of three and four and gasped when she reached the one on the end. “What's Eddie doing in the lineup? He didn't attack us. I would have told you.”

Cole glanced past her shoulder.

She spun on her heel as a deputy stepped out of the shadows. “He fit the age and description and was at the mall at the time of the incident. We needed to make sure.”

“I understand, of course.”

Next they brought in a line of five teen girls. Sherri studied each in turn and as she shifted her gaze to number five her heart jolted. The girl seemed to be looking right at her. Reflexively, she pressed her palm to her abdomen, remembering how viciously the girl had stomped on it. “Number five,” she said, hating how her voice cracked.

Cole squeezed her shoulder. “You okay?”

She nodded without meeting his gaze, not sure she could hold herself together if she saw the compassion she knew would be there. She didn't know why God was allowing all these bad things to happen to her, but she thanked Him every day for bringing Cole back into her life to help her through.

“We appreciate your coming in, Miss Steele,” the other deputy cut in. “We know this must be difficult for you. If you could spare us a few more minutes, we have collected some high school yearbooks and mug shots we'd like you to look through to see if you can identify any of the other assailants.”

“Yes. I'll do whatever you need me to do.”

Cole led her to a conference room, empty save for the stack of yearbooks sitting in the middle of a long table. He pulled out a chair for her. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Tea?”

The reserve in his voice, the stiffness of his movements bothered her more than it should have. This was his work. No matter how much he might care about her, he needed to treat her as the witness and victim she was, or they'd probably pull him off the case altogether. She sat down and pulled the top book from the stack. “A glass of water would be nice. Thanks.”

He slipped out, closing the door behind him.

Two books later she rubbed the grit from her eyes as he returned empty-handed. His hair poked every which way as if he'd been raking his fingers through it. “Out of water?” she asked with a hint of amusement.

“Oh.” He started back out.

“No, no, it's okay. Tell me what's going on.”

He walked to the window and gazed outside, even though there was nothing to see but a brick wall. “The two kids you IDed confessed.”

“That's great.”

His expression looked pained.

“It's not great?”

“I'm not sure.” Cole straddled the chair at the end of the table. “They claim they don't know who the other three were and both fingered a mall custodian as the guy who put them up to it.”

“Ted?”

“We showed each of them a selection of staff photos and he is who they both pointed to, yes.”

“So what's bothering you?”

“It's too neat. They claim Ted supplied them with the smoke bombs and the spray paint to black out the security cameras.”

“Seems believable to me. A guy who works in a mall day in and day out is bound to be able to figure out how to avoid security if he's paying attention.”

“Sure, but we can't find any evidence that Ted made any such purchases or built the smoke bombs.”

“So it's their word against his.”

“Basically, and the photos of you in his apartment don't help his case any.”

Sherri splayed her fingers on the tabletop. “Well, I've got to admit that having someone obsessed with the desire to be my hero is easier to stomach than the thought of Joe or Luke's father or who knows who wanting to terrorize me. Don't you think?”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug, not looking too convinced.

“Why aren't you happier about this? With Ted locked up in the psych ward and half his minions off the street, I should be safe now, right?”

Cole reached across the table and covered her hand. “I want to believe that, Sherri, but I don't like what my gut is telling me.”

“What's it telling you?”

Cole glanced at his watch. “Did you have any luck with the books?”

She blinked, thrown by his avoidance of the question. “Not yet. I only got through two.”

“We can take the rest with us. Let's go.” He scooped up the remaining books and opened the door. “Give me a sec.” He popped his head into the sheriff's office. “I'm driving Miss Steele home. She's taking the rest of the books to look at.” He prodded her down the corridor toward the back door.

“Cole, what's going on? I don't mind looking at the rest of those here.”

“We can't talk here,” Cole whispered. Instead of steering her toward the cruiser he'd picked her up in two hours ago, he steered her to his truck. “Are your folks home?”

“My mom is. Why?”

“I'd rather not talk where we could be overheard.” Cole backed out of his parking spot and headed south, his gaze straying to his mirrors every few seconds.

“Where are we going?”

“Here.” He turned into the parking lot next to the trailhead for the river trail they'd been jogging every morning. He shut off the engine and when he turned toward her, hitching his knee onto the seat between them, his expression looked pained. “I'm afraid that I'm the reason all these bad things have been happening to you.”

“What? Why? That's ridiculous.”

“Hear me out.” The ache in his voice made her heart twist. “Remember my theory that Joe, or whoever had been setting you up, got scared when I started investigating, and framed Eddie to derail my investigation?”

“Yes.”

“I think it was Zeke and his nephew framing him.”

“Zeke? But all kinds of things happened to me before you came back to town.”

“Yes, and maybe someone else is behind those, or maybe you were right and you'd had a run of being the dark cloud. Either way, after you caught Eddie in your ambulance, I think Zeke and his nephew saw the potential to exploit Eddie's condition to make me look bad or to goad me into doing something corrupt to protect him.”

“But why would they do that?”

“I got the opening Zeke's nephew was after for one. Then there's a bunch of little things like why'd Zeke show up five minutes after me at the dog attack when he'd told me he was on his way when he called me? And since I was still off duty with the concussion, I left him to visit all the Rottweiler owners except Luke's father.” He dug his clenched fist into his thigh. “For all I know, he covered up for the owner. Said the dog was there when it wasn't. I can go back and check every one myself. But if any are missing a dog now, they could say it only just went missing.”

“But Zeke's a deputy sheriff.” She trailed her fingers over his clenched ones, hoping to soothe his tension. “Do you really think he'd jeopardize my life to get you kicked off the force so his nephew could apply for a position he still might not get?”

“I know it seems crazy.” He turned his hand beneath hers and gently clasped her fingers. “I hate to think that my being here has in any way endangered you, but Zeke was in a position to know when your ambulance was the only one at the base and would be the next to be dispatched. Either he or his nephew could've pretended to be Eddie's drug pusher and called to lure him to the drug house, then phoned 9-1-1 from the pay phone.”

“But those kids. They said Ted bribed them to attack me and Dan.”

“When Zeke and I made the arrests, he whispered something to each of the kids. I thought he was trying to put the fear of God into them, but now I think he might have been cuing them to finger Ted.”

“Are you serious?”

Cole winced. “You've got to admit that Zeke seemed pretty eager to arrest Ted. I don't think that had been his original plan. He probably hoped to nail Eddie, but the surveillance tapes cleared him, and Ted's being in the food court when we showed up made him a convenient scapegoat.”

“How does Zeke's nephew fit into all this?”

“That's what I only just figured out, thanks to a comment made by the deputy that Zeke handed the mall staff photographs to.” Cole pulled a photo from his back pocket. “Do you recognize this guy?”

“Yeah, he's the security guard who directed us to the food court and then disappeared.”

“He's also Zeke's nephew.”

Her heart jumped. “Oh, wow.” She stared at the photograph. “Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. Planting the smoke bombs would've been easy for him, as well as giving the teens tips on how to avoid the cameras. He was also the one who met us in the security room. I should have clued in the second he stammered over your location in the mall.”

“But...” She swallowed. “That girl's kicks could have killed me. How far will Zeke and his nephew go to get what they want?” She pictured Zeke in his deputy's uniform, thought about the power he wielded. “How can we stop them?”

* * *

Cole spent most of the next day at his desk working on reports and cross-referencing data from all the incidents involving Sherri. With Ted positioned to take the fall, he was confident Zeke wouldn't risk pulling any more stunts. But verifying he'd been behind the others wasn't proving to be easy, even with Zeke tied up in court all day and not around to look over his shoulder.

Of course, being preoccupied with thoughts of Sherri and the dinner she'd agreed to share with him tonight wasn't helping.
Speaking of which...
Cole glanced at his watch and closed his files. He didn't want to keep her waiting.

At his request she'd moved back in with her parents for the time being. A strange feeling pinched his gut as he turned on to the street that had been his for the first eighteen years of his life. At the sight of his dad and Eddie talking to Sherri over the fence between their childhood homes, Cole fought the urge to step on the gas. He parked at the curb and sat there, watching their easy conservation, an odd longing to be part of it warring with the feeling that he'd be betraying his mother if he joined in.

His heart twisted. He was probably an idiot for asking Sherri out in the first place. She might be feeling grateful right now for his concern about her, but once her life settled back down, he'd still be the brother of the drug addict who'd assaulted her and the son of a man who'd cheated on his wife. Not prime long-term relationship material. Never mind that his being here likely had been what had triggered all her troubles in the first place.

Well, maybe not all her troubles.

He closed his eyes, remembering how she'd burrowed into his chest and cried her eyes out as they'd stood beside her partner's grave. Everything in him longed to take away her pain. At the same time, he feared he'd only end up causing her more. He lifted his gaze.

Dad offered him an uncertain smile and a small wave.

Cole nodded and, prying three fingers from the truck's steering wheel, fluttered them in response. He should go over there and talk to him. Except his legs refused to cooperate.

A heartbeat later, Dad said something else to Sherri, reached across the fence and squeezed her hand, and then headed into the house without another glance Cole's way. Yeah, typical. Clearly he wasn't any more eager to move toward reconciliation than Cole was. In his mixed-up, immature eighteen-year-old mind, he'd figured staying away would be punishment, but he wasn't so sure Dad had cared. Sure, he'd sent a card for college graduation and said he'd have liked to be there.

Cole braced for the bitterness that usually piggybacked that thought. Surprisingly, it never came, only a pervasive sadness. That's one prayer God had answered anyway. “Thank you,”
he murmured.
Now, if You could help me get Eddie back on track, that would be great.

Cole shoved open his truck door and sauntered to Sherri and Eddie.

“Hey.” Eddie actually made eye contact, despite the fact that their last conversation had consisted of Cole interrogating him over what he'd been doing at the mall and whether he could identify any of the punks who'd attacked Sherri. “Sherri says you caught the kids that hurt her.”

“Some of them anyway.” Cole squinted at him, trying to decide if Eddie's cheery disposition was the effect of a drug high or if God was already answering another prayer. They'd made plans to go to a ball game together on Saturday. It was a start.

“I wish I could've been more help.”

Sherri clasped Eddie's arm. “Just stay away from guys like the one who sent you to my ambulance and we'll all be okay.”

Eddie's cheeks flamed, his gaze dropping to her hand. “I will.”

“Hey,” Cole said, “would you like to join Sherri and me for dinner? We might go mini-golfing afterward or maybe take in a movie.”

“Nah. Dad's barbecuing steaks.”

“Ah, can't compete with that.” Nobody barbecued steaks as good as Dad. “We'll see you later, then.” Cole caught Sherri's hand. “You ready to go?”

Two hours later Sherri's eyes twinkled with scarcely contained amusement as he missed yet another gimme putt on the final hole of their game.

Truth be told, he'd miss a thousand putts if it meant seeing her look so relaxed, happy and carefree. Not that he'd missed the putts on purpose. He shook his head, then reining in the smile tugging at his lips, tapped the ball into the hole for a double bogey. “This is your fault, you know. You're way too distracting.”