Chapter 5 #3
Why on earth would a flight recorder be sitting in the judge’s car? The thing looked pretty banged up, with one corner smashed in, sitting precariously on half of a mounting bracket.
“We thought you might want to see it.”
They both studied the recording device. Black stripes covered the surface in an uneven pattern.
“What do you think, Captain?” Ethan asked.
Bennett nodded. “From where I’m standing, it looks like this might’ve been doused with some kind of accelerant.”
“We’ll need to call this discovery in to the FAA. NTSB. Whoever. Find out what plane it belongs to.” He knew of exactly one missing plane in Renegade. Was this really the black box for the downed Marshals plane? It connected the judge’s death with the stolen plane.
“Forensics can tell us what kind of accelerant was used,” Bennett said.
“Murphy! Over here!” Ethan waved the detective over to the car.
The detective jogged over. “What’s up?”
“Back seat.”
Murphy used his phone as a flashlight to get a better look at the burnt interior of the car and whistled. “We need CSU to document this.” He looked around. “Hey! Miller! We need you.”
The tech came over and carefully pointed his camera at the black box, taking several pictures.
Detective Murphy said, “Let’s log it in as evidence, and then we’ll send it off to the NTSB for processing.”
The tech asked a couple of firefighters to help him remove the device from the judge’s vehicle and take it to the crime-scene van.
“Thanks.” When Murphy nodded, Ethan walked away, pulling out his phone.
Liam answered his call quickly.
“Roberts, any word on the location of that plane?”
“The parents wouldn’t allow us to interview their kids.
Adam and I narrowed it down to somewhere on Renegade Mountain’s west side, but when they were talking about where they were, it seemed like they got turned around and weren’t exactly sure.
We just need another day to download some more satellite shots, and then we can start to search on foot. ”
“Good work. After the reenactment tomorrow, let’s meet back at the Marshals office.”
“You got it.”
Ethan disconnected the call and wandered to the community center. He poked his head in the back door of the fellowship hall. “You ladies ready to leave?”
“Let me grab my purse,” Jenna said.
“Aubrey?” She still looked exhausted, but that was no surprise.
Aubrey nodded. “I’m ready.”
The two of them walked in silence to his truck. Jenna followed them out to the parking lot, and Ethan watched as she unlocked her car and started her engine.
He assisted Aubrey into the passenger seat of his truck. She didn’t argue. Didn’t joke. Just stared straight ahead as he shut the door for her. Quiet wasn’t unusual for Aubrey, but this quiet was different.
Ethan turned the key, and the engine roared to life. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“You don’t want to know.”
He backed out of the lot. “Maybe I do. Maybe I care.”
Aubrey stared at him for a moment and then sagged against the seat. “I don’t want to talk right now.”
He let it go because he had plenty to think about. The road hummed beneath the tires, his thoughts colliding faster than he could sort them. Fire accelerants, a federal judge dead in a burning car, a plane crash on Renegade Mountain.
After a couple of miles of driving generally toward downtown, he cleared his throat. “We recovered a black box. From the back of the judge’s car.”
She stiffened. “What?”
“It could be from the plane.” He reached over and turned down the radio. “It fits.”
Her head snapped toward him, fear flashing in her eyes. “You think it’s connected to his death? A missing federal plane?”
“It’s possible that nothing about the past couple of days was random violence.” He paused. “Where were you before the fire department showed up?”
She exhaled, rubbing her forehead. “I couldn’t sleep, so I baked cookies for the retirement home.
I’d already booked today off for the preparation, so I went to the community center since I ditched my Renegade Days responsibilities yesterday to go find the judge.
I needed to make sure everything was organized and ready for tomorrow. ”
His stomach chose that moment to growl.
She glanced at him, a tired smile tugging at her mouth. “You hungry?”
“Starving,” he admitted. “Chinese sound good?”
“Comfort food sounds perfect.”
“I’ll order once we get to your place.” He handed her his phone. “Punch in your address.”
Twenty minutes later, he parked his truck in front of her house and walked her up to her door, scanning the street out of habit while she disarmed the alarm.
“Come on in. Make yourself at home.” She dropped her purse on a bench by the door.
Ethan slid off his sports coat and hung it on a hook above the bench. “What do you want to eat?”
She toed off her shoes. “Surprise me. I don’t eat squid or octopus.”
“Good. Neither do I.” He pulled out his phone and ordered, wondering if there was somewhere secure he could put his duty weapon. “Should be here in about twenty minutes.”
She dropped into an overstuffed couch in her living room, and he sat next to her, close but still giving her space. She let out a short, brittle laugh. Then it broke apart.
“Of course this would happen. The one time I convince a federal judge to help with the reenactment, he ends up dead in a burning car.” She scrubbed at her face. “It’s my fault.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than he intended. He softened his tone, trying to figure out how to tell her this couldn’t be her fault. “I’m sorry about the judge. I know he meant a lot to you.”
She nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. He did.”
Mullinax was the kind of judge who looked past what was handed to him and asked why. Ethan had worked cases with him before. Smart. Fair. Relentless. Losing him felt personal.
“But this isn’t on you.” Ethan leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees. “And it’s not about the reenactment.”
She looked at him, really looked. “Then what is it about?”
“The housekeeper,” he said. “And whatever she knew, or whatever Mullinax figured out after she died. That’s at least one possibility.”
Her breathing slowed. “You think the two deaths are connected?”
“I’m fairly certain they are.” He met her gaze. “Two deaths. One quiet, one loud. That’s escalation. Someone was trying to shut a door, and when that didn’t work, they set a fire big enough for everyone to see.”
Aubrey straightened. The self-blame drained from her expression, replaced by something steadier. Sharper. “So the fire was a warning?”
“Yes, I think so.” He didn’t hesitate. “And the black box being in his car? That’s not a coincidence either. Someone wants us chasing the wrong thread, or they want us pulling on the right one before we’re ready.”
She let out a slow breath. “Then they picked the wrong people.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “That’s what I was thinking as well.”
Silence extended between them. A few cars passed by out front, the rumble of their engines muted. Aubrey stood up and paced the length of the room, and Ethan took the chance to look at the simple landscape above her fireplace. A mountain scene. It looked peaceful.
He looked at her and saw the tension in her movements. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m about to go crazy with all the what-ifs.” Aubrey pivoted toward him. “I can’t think about the judge’s death right now. I need to focus on something else. Like the reenactment.”
“I don’t think that’s important right now.”
She stopped in front of him. “Please, humor me. I need to think about something else.” A multitude of emotions paraded across her features. Fear. Hope. Longing. Determination.
He was starting to worry about her. The car fire. Learning about the judge’s death. Could she really handle all this? “What’s going on in that fascinating mind of yours?”
“I don’t know.” Aubrey plopped onto the couch next to him. “The judge was going to portray Sheriff Samuel Dennison.”
“That does create a dilemma for tomorrow.”
“Yeah…” She drew the word out, then gasped and gave his arm a light punch. “Wait. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”
He did not like the sound of this. “What?”
“You.”
“Me what?” He narrowed his eyes.
“You’d be perfect. You and the judge are about the same height and build. Put a fake mustache on you, and no one would notice the difference.”
“Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m not an actor…”
“No, but you’re perfect for the role. All you have to do is ride a horse and then cut off the stagecoach’s progress in front of the old bank and trust, and voilà! Problem solved!”
“No, Aubrey.” His voice was a low grumble.
“Please, Ethan?” She clasped her hands and placed them under her chin. “I promise, this is an emergency. You’re my only hope…”
“Do not quote Star Wars to me.” Proof it was far too risky to open up to people at work—even about entertainment.
“It’s your weakness.” She didn’t even pretend innocence. “Everyone has seen the calendar on the wall in your office. And your Luke Skywalker mug.”
“That’s not fair. You’re using the Force against me!” The corner of his mouth twitched, despite everything they’d just talked about. He turned toward the window, regrouping. Figuring out how to say…Did he want to say no?
Being the town’s original sheriff. Riding a horse in the reenactment.
Sounded like every little boy’s dream.
“Aubrey…”
“You know you want to ride that horse,” she singsonged. “Wear the hat…”
Now that he thought about it…
Oh man, did he ever. He hadn’t ridden a horse since he moved to Renegade. He glanced at her one more time. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you!” She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.
He sat frozen to the seat, his tongue unable to form the words he wanted to say. Heat rose up his neck, and he finally forced himself to stand.
“I said I’ll think about it. I didn’t agree to do it.” His words were gruffer than he intended, and he forced himself to smile at her enthusiasm.
Truth was, right now he’d do anything for her. If only to be near her for a few more minutes. Her presence gave him a reprieve from everything else going on and all the unanswered questions he had.
“Yet. You haven’t agreed to portray the sheriff yet.” She stood and headed to the kitchen. “What do you want to drink with your dinner?”
“Water is fine.”
Oh brother, what had he gotten himself into? Her sunny personality was starting to wear him down. Make him wish for things that could never be.
He needed to get out of here. Get back to the office. But it seemed his good sense had left him once Aubrey turned to him.
Yeah, he was probably going to regret getting involved. Staying for dinner. Saying yes to being the sheriff.
It seemed far too much like falling down a slippery slope he was never going to get back up.
But did he even want to?