Shadow of Vengeance (28 page)

“What’s going on?” she asked, staring at the coat. “Are you angry with me?”

Fighting the urge to beat her face to a blood pulp, he cleared his throat and helped her into her coat. “What did you accomplish by smashing the pledge’s toes?”

Her questioning gaze met his. “I…I wanted to spice things up, that’s all. Give the pledge something to fear. Something to think about while he’s hanging from the wall tonight.”

He fisted his hands, but didn’t raise them. If he struck her, he doubted he could stop. Her stupidity could cost him what he needed from his pledge. Trust.

Taking a step back before he lost control, he nodded. “Yes, no doubt you instilled fear in him. But don’t you think he was afraid before you crushed his toes?”

“Well, I’m sure he was—”

“Don’t you think he hangs from the rock wall waiting and wondering what will happen next?”

“Of course, but—”

“The pledge will not be touched by you unless I’ve instructed. Do you understand?”

The confusion in Junior’s eyes turned to contempt. Instead of defying him, she said, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. I will dine alone this evening and I don’t want you to come for breakfast tomorrow. You need to think about what you’ve done.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I know I hurt him, but I assumed that’s what you’d do anyway.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Don’t doubt it. What the pledge will suffer will be beyond what you could ever imagine. But I need his trust before that moment arrives. Today, you could have possibly damaged the fragile bond the boy and I share. We have only five more days of Hell Week. I don’t want to waste time repairing the damage you’ve done.” He opened the door. “Go.”

Junior hesitated at the threshold. “I…I’m confused. Why do you need his trust?”

With a slow smile, he faced her. “So that I can shatter it.”
 

Chapter 12
 

Dozens of headlights illuminated the riverbank. Mist rose from the water in an eerie, shadowy haze, enveloping Bill’s large pickup truck. Men wearing fishing waders and hip-high boots stood at the shoreline or in the water, securing the hooks and chains from an enormous tow truck to the back end of Bill’s pickup.
 

Despite the hat and gloves, nothing could stop the chill slicing through Owen, or the dread as he and Rachel watched the locals do their best to fish Bill’s truck out of the river. She stood with her gloved hands stuffed in her coat pockets. When the beam of a flashlight briefly chased across her face, he caught the fear in her eyes and he resisted the urge to haul her trembling body next to his.

According to Bill’s family, the security guard was last seen leaving his post at Wexman University. That was over twenty-four hours ago. Today’s temperature had reached a high of twenty-one, while last night it had dropped to eleven. Tonight was supposed to be just as cold. Even if Bill had survived the crash into the river and managed to make it to shore, without dry, warm clothes or shelter, hypothermia would have been his next obstacle. But if Bill hadn’t survived the crash, then where the hell was his body?
 

“Here comes Jake,” Rachel said and nudged him with her elbow.
 

He glanced to where Rachel had been looking. Jake made his way toward them, capped head down, shoulders slumped and his boots crunching over the trampled, icy snow. They now had two possible missing persons in a matter of a couple of days. Was what happened to Bill a simple coincidence, dumb luck or something more disturbing?
 

“How’s it going?” Rachel asked when Jake finally reached them. “Are they about ready to pull the truck from the water?”

Nodding, Jake looked back to the riverbank just as the tow truck’s engine revved. “Yeah, as we speak.”

Water rushed over the partially submerged hood of the pickup as the driver inched the tow truck away from the river. Men shouted directions at the driver, who popped his head out of the driver’s side window and looked over his shoulder. The engine suddenly roared. The tow truck lurched, and quicker than Owen had anticipated, Bill’s pickup was dragged from the water.

Other than the tow trucks guttural purr as it sat idling, and the rush of the river water, the Townies who had crowded along the riverbank remained unnervingly silent.
 

“Empty,” a man wearing hip-high boots shouted as he moved a flashlight over the interior of the truck’s cab. “What do you want us to do with it, Jake?”

Jake glanced at Rachel. “Something’s not right,” she said. “You told us Bill lived in town and the last time anyone saw him was when he left the university. This…” She twisted her body and looked at the river, then the woods. “This isn’t even close to a main road. Why would he be out here?”

“The only people who come out here at this time of year are illegal hunters and die hard fishermen. Bill wasn’t either.” Jake took a step back. “Are you suggesting foul play?”
 

Rachel nodded. “Can you have his truck towed to a garage? It’s too dark out here, even with headlights and flashlights, to look for evidence.”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

“And the man who found the truck?” Rachel asked.

Jake stopped, then looked toward the tow truck again. “Looks like Evan is finished helping them. I’ll send him over.”

“This isn’t good,” Rachel said after Jake walked away.

“Nope.”

“I mean, we ask Bill to get blood work done, then he
coincidentally
disappears?”

“Into a river.”

She leaned closer. “Even if we found him…dead, if he’d been drugged with Rohypnol and died Monday afternoon, the drug would still be in his system. We’d still have our link.”

“If that’s the case, then it also means whoever took Josh is watching us.” He didn’t like that idea. At all. If the killer/kidnapper knew about them, what if, to retaliate, he went after Sean again? Worse yet, what if he went after Rachel?
 

The thought of Rachel falling victim to a nameless, faceless serial killer caused a tightening in his chest. He had the urge to go all he-man on her. Toss her over his shoulder and haul her sexy butt back to Chicago where she would be safe. He wouldn’t, though. Not yet. Having this opportunity to work in the field was important to her. Even if he didn’t like the uncertainties of this investigation, he wanted her to succeed. He wanted her happy. Hell, he wanted her, period.

Wearing camouflaged fatigues and tall, matching rubber boots, the man he assumed was Evan approached. Adjusting his bright orange knit hat, he gave them a curt nod. “I’m Evan Hart. Jake said you wanted to talk to me.”

“How did you find Bill’s truck?”
 
Rachel asked after she introduced them. “Were you hunting?”

Evan looked to the snow covered ground. “That wouldn’t be legal. I was…thinking about testing out the new fishing rod my wife got me for Christmas.”

While Owen suspected Evan was bullshitting them, he could care less. With the dozens of people and cars trampling the area, Evan was the only person who saw the
possible
crime scene when it had been fresh.

“Did you see tracks off the road?” Owen asked. “You know, like Bill might have lost control of the truck. Maybe skidded on some ice or something.”

“Nah, nothing like that. I parked up on Miller’s Run,” he said and pointed to the road running parallel to the river. “Got out of my truck and walked down that slope. That’s when I saw tire tracks.”

“And that’s unusual?” Rachel asked.

“For this time of year.” He motioned to where they were standing. “This isn’t exactly what you’d call a road. No telling how deep the snow is in the winter, and in the summer you wouldn’t want to drive down here unless you’ve got yourself an all terrain four-wheeler.”

“Would Bill know this?” Owen asked.

“Shoot, that boy grew up here. He’d know better.”

“Okay,” Rachel began. “So you saw tire tracks…”

“Right. Saw the tracks and followed ‘em. That’s when I saw the back end of Bill’s pickup stickin’ out of the water. The only reason I knew it was Bill’s was because of his Ohio State bumper sticker. This is Wolverine territory. Bill’s the only fool I know that likes those damned Buckeyes.”
 

Considering Rachel knew nothing about football, Owen could guarantee she had no idea that Evan was talking about a college rivalry. “After you realized it was Bill’s truck, you obviously called the sheriff, but did you look for Bill?” Owen asked. “Maybe find any footprints in the snow?”

“Right after I hung up with Jake,” Evan said. “I called some of my buddies who hunt and fish around here—when it’s legal, of course. While we were waiting on Jake, and for Bernie to bring his tow truck, we went about a fifty or so yards into the woods looking for Bill.”

A minute amount of hope prickled his interest. “So you did find footprints.”

“No. But when my buddy first got here, he roped me up and I waded out into the river to see if Bill was trapped in his cab. When I didn’t see anything, I was hoping that maybe he’d made it out. I just…I didn’t want to give up on him. He’s a good kid.” He looked at the river. “It’s too late tonight, but tomorrow we’ll check further down the river. The current might’ve grabbed him.”

“When they pulled the truck out of the water, I noticed the doors and windows were shut,” Rachel said.
 

Evan shook his head and crossed his arms. “You couldn’t see it from here, but the driver’s side window was cracked open about four inches.”

“Which isn’t enough for a man Bill’s size to escape.”

“No.” Evan half-chuckled, then grew somber when a tall, heavyset man rushed past them and toward Bill’s truck. “That’d be, Hal, Bill’s dad. If there’s nothing else…”

After Rachel thanked Evan, and the man jogged after Hal, she hugged herself. “They’re not going to find Bill in the river.” She muttered something under her breath, then said, “And if this is a crime scene, it’s been completely contaminated. We still need to come back in the morning and—”

Bill’s dad yelled and screamed. Kicked the wheel of the pickup truck. Jake rushed to his side, but Hal shoved him away and throwing his hands in the air, paced.
 

Jake headed toward them again, his strides long and with purpose. At the same time, Bernie fired up the tow truck. Men cleared, giving the driver room to navigate the narrow path back to the main road.

“Come on,” Jake said and motioned for them to follow him. “I want to follow Bernie back to his garage and take a look at Bill’s truck. I’m assuming you two want to come along, right?”

“Absolutely,” Rachel said.
 

When they reached his Lexus, which Owen had parked next to Jake’s SUV, the sheriff paused. “When I asked about foul play, you never answered my question, and I want an answer.” He slapped the hood of his SUV with a gloved hand. “Actually I want a shit-ton of answers. I’m sick of having this Hell Week bullshit hanging over my town.”

Owen caught a flash of sympathy in Rachel’s eyes. “I wish we had some definite answers for you, Jake,” she said. “Let’s head to the garage and start there.”

Jake didn’t respond. He climbed into his SUV and flipped on the headlights.
 

Owen and Rachel did the same. And as they followed the sheriff back to town, Rachel said, “Jake’s pretty pissed off right now.”

“Can you blame him?” As much as he didn’t like the sheriff, Owen could imagine Jake’s frustration. The man lived here, was sheriff, was supposed to be protecting and serving his community. Instead he was spinning his wheels with the Wexman Hell Week that had been plaguing Bola for twenty years.
 

“No, I can’t. Especially because I think he suspects what we do.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Someone wanted Bill dead.”

*

Two hours later, carrying her computer bag over her shoulder, Rachel made her way downstairs to Joy’s dining room. After Owen brought her back to the boarding house, she’d changed into her yoga pants and a thick, fleece sweatshirt. She wished she’d remembered to pack slippers. Even though the temperature in the house was comfortable, she couldn’t shake the chill still shivering through her body.

When she caught Joy sitting at the table, her head in her hands, a Styrofoam cup, a magnum of white wine and a coffee mug in front of her, she paused. Sensing Joy probably wanted time alone to deal with her missing nephew, she took a step backward. The floorboard creaked. Joy raised her head, but kept her chin in her palm.

“Hey, Shorty,” she said, her tone quiet, melancholy. “Go grab a mug. I don’t want to drink alone.”

Rachel did as Joy requested, then sat next to the other woman. Joy unscrewed the bottle cap, then poured Rachel a mugful of wine. “How’d it go at Bernie’s garage? Hal isn’t answering his phone and I…” Her chin wobbled. “Damn, I don’t know what the hell to do with myself.” She topped her own mug off, then raised the cup to her lips.

She understood what Joy was going through. After working at CORE for four years, she’d met plenty of distraught, helpless clients searching for answers, for closure, for justice. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any of those things to offer Joy right now.