With a Vengeance (23 page)

Zoe blew out a relieved sigh.

“Hello?” Pete said over the phone. “Zoe?”

“Sorry. False alarm,” she told him. “We’re all a little jumpy around here.”

He chuckled. “Roger that.”

In the background, she could hear Lucy Livingston screeching at the top of her lungs. “I guess your suspect has arrived. I’ll let you go.”

“Thanks a lot,” he said sarcastically.

The radio crackled. “Medic One returning to base.”

As Zoe ended the call, Earl rose and patted her shoulder.

“Better safe than sorry,” he said as he headed for the lounge.

She leaned back in her chair. Maybe she was just paranoid. Maybe the killer was in custody and the nightmare of the last few days was over.

Except Pete hadn’t mentioned arresting Bud Kramer. Yet.

Twenty-Five

“Get your hands off me, you moron!”

Lucy Livingston reminded Pete of a Chihuahua. All teeth and bark and no idea of how small she really was.

Or how much trouble she was in.

Two county uniforms each had one of her arms and “escorted” her into the Vance Township interrogation room, her feet barely touching the ground but flailing and back-pedaling the whole trip down the hallway.

From the holding cell farther back in the building, Hector bellowed, “She didn’t do anything!”

“Daddy?” she cried out as the officers shoved her through the interrogation room door and closed it, cutting off her tirade.

Hector, however, continued to roar. “
Pete Adams. I want to talk to you
.”

Baronick had trailed in behind his officers and their suspect and stood at the front door, grinning like that damned Cheshire Cat. “I offered to keep her at County HQ along with the two quads we brought in. You insisted we bring her here.”

“You can have her back when I’m done with her.” Pete grabbed a folder from the desk in the front office, headed for the interrogation room, and called over his shoulder, “You coming?”

Baronick fell into step behind him. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“
Adams
,” Hector shouted from the back again. “Get your ass back here. I need to talk to you.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Pete muttered to himself. He opened the door to the interrogation room and found the two county officers looming over a seated and subdued Lucy Livingston. He wondered what they’d done to shut her up, but whatever it was, she didn’t appear physically injured. Nodding to the officers, he said, “Go tell her father I’ll be there when I’m done speaking with his charming daughter.”

Once Baronick and Pete were alone with the girl, she thumped her handcuffed fists on the table. “Oh, wonderful. I’ve traded one set of Neanderthals for another. Get these things off me.”

Pete eased into the chair across from her, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I hear you tried to kick out the windows in the back of the squad car.”

Lucy held up her bound hands. “Because of these. If they hadn’t put these on, I’d have pounded the windows out with my fists.”

“You’re not making much of a case for yourself.”

She slumped back and blew a disgusted breath that made her dark bangs float up and settle again on her forehead.

Pete clicked on his recorder and read the Miranda rights to her. “Do you understand?” he asked.

“Of course I understand. I’m not an idiot.”

Baronick snorted, but covered by coughing into his hand.

Lucy twisted toward him. “Don’t you dare laugh at me. What’s
your
IQ?” She thrust out her chest. “Mine’s 168.”

Pete had serious doubts. After all, her lips were moving. But he needed to get information from this girl and arguing with her wasn’t the way to do it. “Impressive. Now if you’ll promise to act civil, I’ll take those cuffs off.”

Her lower lip trembled, but she extended her arms toward him. “I promise.”

He unlocked and removed the cuffs, and she massaged her wrists. She did not, however, thank him.

“All right,” Pete said, opening the folder. “Let’s get this over with so you can get out of here.” He didn’t mention
out of here
might mean into county lockup. “Where have you been the last few evenings?”

“I was at my friend’s house down in Waynesburg last night. Just ask your storm troopers. They picked me up there.”

“What about the three evenings before that? Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.”

“I was at home.”

“Really? As early as six o’clock?”

Her lips weren’t moving, but her mind clearly was. After several long moments of silence, she crossed her arms. “I’m invoking my right to remain silent.”

“Invoking,” Baronick echoed. “Maybe she really does have an IQ of 158.”

“One-
sixty
-eight,” she snapped.

“Excuse me,” Baronick said, doing vocal loopty-loops with the word
excuse
.

Pete glared at the detective. “Do I have to separate you two?”

“Please,” Lucy said.

Baronick held up both hands in surrender, but he stayed in the room.

Pete removed a trio of photographs they’d taken in Lucy’s bedroom and spread them in front of her. “You have a nice set of trophies there.”

She glanced at the photos and then looked at Pete, her lips pressed into a tight thin line.

“I understand both you and your father are champion sharpshooters. Avid hunters too. So you know the area pretty well.”

“I’m not talking to you.” Lucy was definitely her father’s daughter.

Pete withdrew another set of photos from the folder and set them in front of her one at a time. “Curtis Knox. He broke off your engagement well before you admitted to it. Now he’s in the hospital.” Pete laid down another photo, this one from Barry Dickson’s autopsy.

Lucy winced and looked away.

“Barry Dickson. Curtis’s partner. Did he just get in the way of your shot? Or were you angry because he helped convince Curtis to dump you?”

She swallowed hard and kept her gaze aimed at a corner of the ceiling.

Pete set down another autopsy photo. “Jason Dyer. Another ex-boyfriend of yours. Also shot from long distance. Imagine that.”

A cell phone rang—not Pete’s. Baronick dug his phone from his pocket and checked the caller ID. “Excuse me,” he said, and ducked out of the room.

Pete tapped the photo of Jason. The girl
would
look at her handiwork whether she wanted to or not.

Lucy sniffed, but kept her eyes averted. Pete slammed his palm down on the table. She flinched. “Look at the damn picture, Lucy.”

Trembling, she took a quick glimpse toward it and looked away again.

Pete leaned toward her. “What about Rick Brown?”

The name brought her gaze back to his, her eyes wide and damp.

“He’s dead too. Did you have anything to do with that?”

“Snake,” she said.

Snake? For a moment Pete wondered if she’d done something to him too. Or had Snake been responsible for Brown’s death?

“I want to call Snake. His uncle’s a lawyer, and I want him to represent me. I’m not talking to you any more without an attorney present.”

The door swung open, and Baronick stepped inside, a strange look on his face. “I need to speak with you.”

Pete gathered the photos and tucked them inside the folder. “Wait here,” he told the girl. “I’ll have someone bring you a phone.”

In the hallway with the door again closed, Baronick asked, “Did she tell you anything?”

“Just that she wants Snake’s uncle as her attorney.”

Baronick nodded. “Figures. That was the lab on the phone.”

“And?”

“Nothing from ballistics on the Livingstons’ guns yet, but their ATVs definitely don’t match our tire marks.”

Not what Pete wanted to hear. “Damn it.”

“That’s not all. One of our detectives did a follow-up interview with the owner of the stolen Chevy Cavalier.”

“Jack Utah,” Pete said. The hoarder.

“Yeah. Turns out he had the car serviced recently.” Baronick paused. “At Bud Kramer’s Garage.”

Pete’s jaw tightened. “Did they run the photos of his ATV’s tires I sent?”

“Yep. Perfect match. Looks like your mechanic is our killer.”

Pete yanked his phone from his pocket and punched in Kevin’s number.

“Who are you calling?” Baronick asked.

“Kevin Piacenza. I have him watching Bud’s place.”

“Good.”

Except the phone rang several times and then went to voicemail. “Kevin, where the hell are you?”

Zoe sat reading a horse lover’s magazine in one of the well-worn easy chairs in the crew lounge, her legs folded under her. The rest of the crew was taking turns shouting answers—or questions—at the TV, trying to best the
Jeopardy!
contestants. The sound of tones drifted back to them from the office.

Earl climbed to his feet. “That’ll be for us.”

“Maybe the old lady passed out again,” Tracy said, “and the son needs us to transport her after all.”

Zoe stuck one of the loose subscription cards between pages to mark her place and tossed the magazine onto the end table with the rest of the assorted reading material. “I hope not. It’s been almost an hour. He darn well better have her in the ER by now.” She uncurled her legs and stood to follow Earl.

He paused at the door to the office and gave her a playful nudge. “Got your life insurance paid up?”

“Not funny.”

Tony waited for them, holding out the note with the address. “Guy called in complaining of severe chest pains. Male. Sixty-two years old. Says he was trying to drive himself to the hospital, but the pain got too bad and he’s pulled over waiting for the ambulance.”

Zoe snatched the note on her way past. “Ridge Road?”

Earl hesitated and met her gaze, his jaw tight. “Not much traffic out that way.”

She hated this nagging fear. The dread of doing a job she loved.

“Should we call the police?” Earl asked.

“Let’s go.” She gave him a gentle push toward the ambulance. “If there’s any question once we get there, then we’ll call.”

With Earl behind the wheel, they rolled onto Main Street. He flipped on the lights and sirens.

Zoe unclipped the mic. “Control, this is Medic Two en route to Ridge Road.”

“Ten-four, Medic Two. Nineteen twenty-one.”

“You got nothing on us. Let us go.” Hector glowered at Pete through the bars of the holding cell.

Lucy hugged her knees close to her chest and pouted in the other cell.

Pete knew as soon as Andrew McCoy got there, he’d demand Pete cut them loose, but until the lab told him the rifles didn’t match, he planned to keep both Livingstons on ice for as long as possible.

In the meantime, he had bigger concerns. Like why Kevin wasn’t answering his phone or responding to the radio. Pete wanted nothing more than to charge out to Kramer’s place himself, but he had Hector and Lucy to deal with. Instead, he’d called in Seth and Nate, and Baronick ordered his two officers, who had escorted Lucy, to meet them there.

“Are you listening to me?” Hector barked.

“I hear you.” Pete checked his phone in case he’d missed Kevin’s call. But he knew he hadn’t.

“And?”

“You might as well sit back and relax, because until I get a report from ballistics, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“I’m telling you, they aren’t gonna find anything because we didn’t shoot anyone.”

“Give it up, Daddy,” Lucy said. “Snake’s uncle will get us out.”

Hector blew a raspberry. “Lawyers. They’re as useless as tits on a bull.”

The bells jangled on the front door, and voices drifted back to them. Pete recognized McCoy’s as one of them. Moving away from the holding cells, Pete headed to the intersection of the T in the hallway where he could see two men, one in a suit and the other in oversized jeans, standing at the window to Nancy’s office. “McCoy,” he yelled. When the attorney looked Pete’s way, he waved them back.

Pete met McCoy and Snake halfway and aimed a thumb over his shoulder. “Hector and Lucy are in the holding cells.”

McCoy scowled. “I’d rather talk to them one at a time and in your conference room.”

Which was where Baronick had set up a temporary office.

“You’re probably only going to get one of them to talk anyway,” Pete said. “I have business to attend to right now. If you want Lucy moved to the
interrogation
room, you’ll have to wait until I check on the status of my men.”

McCoy made a face as though he’d sucked on a lemon. “Fine. I’ll talk to them back there. For now.”

The attorney brushed past Pete. Snake started to follow, but Pete planted a hand on the kid’s chest. “Not you.”

“But—”

Pete grabbed Snake’s shirt and spun him toward the front before giving him a firm shove. Slump-shouldered, the tough-guy wannabe lumbered down the hall ahead of Pete. When they reached Nancy’s office, he held up a finger at the kid. “Stay.”

Mumbling, Snake leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Any news?” Pete asked his secretary.

She shook her head. “Nate should be on scene any minute now. Seth said his ETA is five minutes. And the county officers should get there somewhere in between.”

“Did you have any luck raising Bud Kramer on the phone?”

“None. No answer at the garage or at his home number. Detective Baronick is trying to track down his cell phone number.”

Pete rubbed the space between his eyes where a tension headache brewed. “Come on, Nate,” he said under his breath.

Nancy gave him a tight smile. “A watched radio never squawks.”

He glanced at the closed conference room door and contemplated checking in on Baronick while he waited. But Nancy had said Nate should be at Kramer’s any time now.

A perplexed look on Snake’s face caught Pete’s attention. “Do you need to use the restroom?”

Snake met Pete’s gaze and shook his head. “No. What was that name you just mentioned?”

“Detective Baronick?”

“No, no, no. Bud. Bud…?”

“Kramer?”

Snake’s eyes brightened. “Yeah. That’s him. That’s the name of the guy who bought my quad.”