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“So no one fled the scene?”
“Not really. There was a girl standing by a motorcycle a few cars down who walked away when I came up, but I’m not sure she was involved.”
His face lit up. “A motorcycle? Can you describe it?”
“I can do better than that. While I was watching the house, I snapped a few pictures of the area. I know I got a shot of the bike.”
“Maybe our killer knows about the pictures and there’s something in them that could incriminate him.” His tone rose with interest.
She dug out her cell and thumbed through the pictures. Russ moved behind her, and she felt his breath whisper over her neck, below her ponytail. She had to fight to concentrate on the images. He lifted her hand closer to his face. The warmth of his hand covering hers almost made her turn to see if the touch affected him, too. But he stabbed a finger at the current picture and she knew his focus remained on the case.
“That looks like the bike our suspect took off on tonight. Can’t make out the plate, but if we enlarge it we might hit pay dirt.” He let go of her hand. “Officer Garber is a motorcycle enthusiast. He might see something in this picture that we don’t.”
An older-model car with a rumbling muffler chugged down the street emitting waves of smoke and pulling up in front of the house.
“That’s Mr. Becker,” Russ said. “Time to check out the house.”
Russ greeted the older man whose face held enormous respect for Russ. Locals appreciated his experience, diplomacy and the way he kept the department operating so efficiently.
Thinking about what she’d heard around town about Russ, Sydney watched as he talked with Mr. Becker.
Everyone in town knew Russ was divorced with a young son who spent occasional weekends with him. Especially the single women who thought they could crack his hard shell and win the man who seemed to need no one. But other than that, no other rumors had spread about the ten or so years he’d been gone from Logan Lake. She hadn’t really wondered about him, but tonight she wished she knew a little more about him.
Shaking Mr. Becker’s hand through the open window, Russ caught her watching him. She wanted to look away, but his gaze met hers. He’d only smirk if she suddenly averted her eyes. So she kept them firmly fixed to his and was surprised when he responded by staring deeply into her eyes as if searching for something.
But as Mr. Becker handed Russ the key, he broke eye contact. He promised to lock up and return the key, then waited for Mr. Becker to drive off before heading her way.
Wondering what that look had been about, she waited for him to pass and climbed the stairs behind him. On the porch, memories from the arrest floated up, replacing her thoughts of Russ.
With gloved hands, he turned the key in the lock. She accompanied him into the house. As she looked around, she snapped on gloves.
“Look the same as when you arrested him?” Russ asked.
“Minus the beer cans and rowdy friends, yes.”
“You arrest these friends?”
“Yeah, we found lines of coke on the table, so we hauled them all in.”
He crossed to the desk, drew open a drawer. “We’ll need to question them. I’ll want a copy of your arrest report first thing in the morning.”
Sydney nodded, though it would have to be second thing in the morning. Her sergeant would want to blast her first for leaving her gun in the car.
She saw a cord trailing from an outlet and found a charger holding a phone hidden under a table. “Odd place to charge a phone,” she said, dropping down to her knees.
“We didn’t find a cell on the body so I was hoping it’d be here.” Russ’s tone was the most optimistic she’d heard all night. He tossed her a plastic evidence bag. “Bag it.”
She settled the phone into the bag. As she laid it on the table, it chimed a text.
“There’s no way I’m ignoring that.” Through the bag, she fiddled with buttons until it unlocked. “It’s from someone Dixon has labeled as Boss.”
“Read it to me.”
She opened the message.
Good evening, Deputy Tucker. This isn’t over. I want what you took from this house. I will get it back even if someone else gets hurt in the process.
Her mouth fell open, and she stared at the screen.
What was he talking about? She didn’t take anything from this house.
And how did he know she was here and would answer Dixon’s phone?
Had he followed them? Was he outside now…watching?
“What’s it say, Syd?”
She heard Russ’s voice but couldn’t quit staring at the screen or form the words to tell him about the message. Their theory had been right. The killer did want something from her.
But what, she had no clue. She felt powerless.
Russ crossed the space and dropped down next to her.
“Let me see.” His voice was soft, reassuring, but didn’t melt the ice forming around her heart.
He tried to take the phone. Her fingers clamped around it like a vise. She couldn’t seem to let go. He turned her hand. She heard him draw in a quick breath before jumping to his feet.
“Stay here,” he commanded and raced to the door. Gun in hand, he eased onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind him.
He needn’t have told her to stay put. Without her gun, she wasn’t moving a muscle. Especially not to go outside. The killer was likely hanging in the shadows of the trees. A mere shadow himself. Watching through the misty rain. Biding his time. Hoping to strike again.
Wait. The text said if someone got hurt in the process. He didn’t say if she got hurt. Did that mean he’d hurt people she cared about instead? Maybe even Russ?
She dropped the phone and flew to the window. Searched up and down the street. Not seeing Russ, she opened the door. Poked her head out. She heard footfalls at the side of the house.
Was it Russ or the killer? Should she stay out here or go inside?
She scanned the area, her mind churning with indecision. The footfalls grew closer. She slipped back inside the doorway but kept the door open a crack. A hand holding a gun cleared the side of the house. She glimpsed a deep navy sleeve covering the arm. Russ?
She held her breath. Waited.
Russ emerged from the shadows, his profile strong and solid. She whooshed out the breath. Dragged a fresh one into her lungs.
He spun and fixed his gun on her. He hissed out a breath. “Go inside and close the door, Syd.”
Sirens split the air. Red lights twirled in the distance, coming closer. Knowing backup was moments away and their killer wouldn’t try anything with several officers on the scene, she took cover in the house.
“Lord, please protect Russ,” she cried out, and settled on the floor with the phone.
Hoping it was a bad dream, she looked at the message again. But there it was right in front of her. His warning. That this wasn’t over and might not end before someone else died at the hands of a madman.
THREE
After Russ and his men searched fruitlessly for the killer, he went back inside the house. He found Sydney sitting on the floor, Dixon’s phone still in hand. He squatted next to her and took the phone, still in its evidence bag.
“We’ll get him before he hurts anyone else, Syd. I promise.” He didn’t know how he could say that. He could no more promise this guy wouldn’t hurt anyone than he could promise she’d be fine.
“Promise me something else.”
“What?” he asked gruffly.
“That you’ll let me work on the investigation with you.”
“I—”
She held up her hands. “Don’t say no right away. Just think about it. I may be a rookie, but I also seem to hold the key to this case. I didn’t take anything from this house, but our killer thinks I did and he seems more than willing to come after me to get it.”
He let himself spend a few moments peering into her eyes, thinking how much she’d changed and yet how much she hadn’t. Her eyes seemed bluer, her face softer. If he didn’t move away from the pull of her gaze, he’d promise her the moon.
He stood. “All I can say right now is I’ll think about it.”
“Fair enough.”
The door opened and Officer Baker came into the house. Russ went to meet him.
“Here’s the phone.” Russ handed the bag to Baker, who was busy checking out Sydney.
Russ got in his face. “I want a log of every call and number on here before you go home for the night. And put some pressure on the phone company to get Dixon’s past phone logs ASAP. Call me as soon as the log is finished.”
“You got it,” Baker said, his eyes returning to Sydney.
“Let’s step outside, Baker.” Russ bit back his irritation and went out. “What’s wrong with you? Staring at Deputy Tucker like that. She’s a capable officer just like us and deserves respect.”
“Sorry, Chief. I didn’t mean anything by it. As you say she’s a capable officer, but—don’t jump down my throat for this—you have to admit she’s nothing like us.” He grinned.
Russ would admit no such thing aloud and definitely not to one of his officers. “Get out of here and get to work on the phone.”
Russ couldn’t blame Baker for noticing Sydney. He’d done the same thing when his only thoughts should be about protecting her. He needed to keep his focus. Especially out here.
He made a quick sweep of the area. He’d left one unit stationed out front so they could finish searching Dixon’s house without worrying about the killer.
Russ felt as if the creep was long gone, but he couldn’t help worry about what his next move would be or if Russ would be with Sydney when he did strike again. Maybe Russ should call county and ask them to arrange protection for her.
No. Not a good idea.
If he went that route, Russ would have to deal with Krueger all the time just to talk to Sydney. He could ask to have her assigned to the investigation as she’d requested. She’d not only be available when needed, but he could also keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t come to any harm.
Yeah, that’s what he’d do.
Before he changed his mind, he made a quick call to Lieutenant James, who was most obliging. Krueger would be miffed when he heard Russ went over his head, but Russ could handle it.
He made one last sweep of the area then went inside.
“Let’s finish this place up and get out of here.” He returned to the desk. “Oh, by the way. I called Lieutenant James while I was outside. He agreed to put you on the team. You’ll report to me until this investigation is closed.”
She smiled. “That’s great, Russ. Thank you.”
“You can thank me by being extra vigilant until this killer is caught.” He let his gaze connect with hers. “Keep your head on a swivel. Wear your vest at all times.” He wanted to add Sleep in it, too, but he knew that would only earn him a roll of her eyes.
“Don’t worry, Russ. I hear you.” She turned back to digging through the sofa. “Found some weed. Didn’t take Dixon long after getting out to replenish his stock.”
Russ sat on a chair and dug deeper into a bottom drawer. He pulled out a power cord from a computer. “Did you take a laptop into evidence?”
She shook her head. “We saw that power cord, but no computer.”
“Maybe that’s what our suspect thinks you took.”
“Could be, I guess. Though I don’t know what kind of evidence a drug dealer would have on a computer.”
They worked for another hour, but didn’t locate anything else of interest so Russ decided to call it quits. At the door, he said, “I still want to show those pictures of the motorcycle to Garber if you’re up for it.”
“Sure.”
They stepped onto the porch, where the whispery mist had turned to soft rain. The temperature had dropped when the rain came in, and neither of them wore jackets.
Sydney shivered and nodded at the patrol car sitting at the curb. “What’s he doing here?”
“Just a precaution.”
“You thought the killer might come back.” The worry returned to her eyes.
He scanned the area on the way to his cruiser, but tried not to be obvious about it and raise her concern even more. He nodded at his officer to let him know he could leave.
At the car, Russ opened the trunk, retrieved his jacket and draped it over Sydney’s shoulders.
“You keep it,” she said. “You’re cold, too.”
“I’m fine.” He moved to open her door before remembering not to. Not saying anything, she tugged his jacket tightly around her shoulders and climbed in.
On the road, she didn’t speak. He didn’t mind the silence. He used the quiet to keep his focus on making sure the killer wasn’t following. When they pulled up to the town houses, he was certain no one tailed them. Of course, that didn’t mean their killer hadn’t left Dixon’s house and returned before them.
Feeling the killer’s eyes on them, Russ shifted into Park and searched the area. Dense woods and heavy undergrowth made plenty of places to hide. The rain, growing thicker by the minute, gave him even more cover.
Russ turned to tell Sydney to wait here and he’d drive her home, but a car fishtailed to a stop across the road, drawing his interest. The passenger door opened, emitting throbbing music. A young teen climbed out.
“Nikki?” Sydney said on a whisper.
“What’s your sister doing here?”
