Chapter 15
Max hung up the phone.
The florist who’d delivered Keira’s flowers said a man had paid for them with cash and written and sealed the enclosed note himself.
Their floral shop didn’t have cameras, she’d told him.
Why would they need cameras? She’d said the man had been polite but in a hurry.
He’d worn a baseball cap and a blue jacket.
The florist guessed he was in his thirties. Maybe late twenties.
Max sat at his desk, tapping his fingers, trying to think who could have sent the flowers.
Why harass Keira?
Either they couldn’t get to Max or they wanted him worried about his sister’s safety.
They’d achieved that goal.
A brief conversation with TJ hadn’t provided any answers. He’d told Max that Keira had been angry about the note and hadn’t wanted to tell him, but TJ had convinced her to do so. “She didn’t want to stir anything up for you. Bad memories and shit. Especially since your sisters are coming to town.”
Memories had definitely been stirred.
All that blood.
He slammed his palms on the desk, wanting the brief sting of pain to pull him out of the past. His fingers tingling, he clicked to his work email.
Focus.
He opened the latest memo on domestic terrorism from Portland and read every word out loud to stay on topic. “They really think something is going to happen in Central Oregon,” he muttered to himself. “Why can’t we find anything over here that indicates that?”
Central Oregon was separated from the west side of the state by the Cascade mountain range.
The largest cities were on the west side, where it was often wet or gray from October to June, so Max preferred Bend’s high desert climate.
It could be twenty degrees outside, but the odds would be in his favor that it was also sunny.
He also liked that he only had to drive fifteen minutes in almost any direction to find himself in the country.
In one direction were the Cascade foothills, with towering pines and lots of privacy, and in other directions the land changed and ranches took over, interspersed with some amazing rock and hill formations that had happened when the earth was young.
As the largest city east of the mountain range, Bend had suffered growing pains.
Everyone had rushed to live there over the last few decades.
It’d brought heavy traffic, strained infrastructure, and high home prices.
And of course a massive number of tourists came to hike and whitewater raft during the summer and ski in the winter.
Many of them decided to stay permanently.
When he’d moved to Bend, Max had worried that he’d miss the bigger-city feel of Sacramento. He couldn’t have been more wrong. In this city and the surrounding areas, he could breathe. He felt it in his lungs and head and heart. Open spaces, clean air, and blue sky. People thrived here.
He was in the right place.
Now he needed to figure out who was planning to do some damage in this beautiful area.
He picked up the phone and was abruptly aware of a disturbance in the office.
He set the phone back down, jumped to his feet, and opened his door to see Mercy running his way.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” she hollered at him.
“What’s happened?” he yelled back as he grabbed his coat.
“Explosion at the courthouse!”
Shit. There it is.
“It could have been worse,” Max kept mumbling under his breath as he surveyed the scene.
He and Mercy had seen the black smoke from their parking lot and reached the crime scene in minutes.
So had a dozen city and county vehicles and three fire trucks.
The area was taped off, and they had checked in with the Deschutes County sheriff’s sergeant, who’d taken charge of the scene.
A single car in the courthouse lot had been the source of the explosion. It’d caused damage to the cars around it, but no one was hurt except a tourist who’d been on the sidewalk and had a heart attack. With so many fast first responders, he’d received care immediately.
The smoking car was a large Mercedes-Benz sedan, and the stink of burning rubber and fuel was heavy in the air. Max breathed through his mouth to avoid the smell but stopped as he tasted burned tire on his tongue.
“The sergeant said the car belonged to Judge Holtz,” said Mercy. “Do you think someone was sending a message?”
“If they were, their message got my attention,” said Max.
Mercy nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Hey,” came a voice behind them. “Look who beat us here.” Max turned to see Noelle striding his way, her gaze locked on his.
Her partner, Evan, had been the speaker, but she snagged his attention.
Noelle was bundled up against the cold, her eyes matching the dark-blue knit scarf at her neck.
She looked as if she’d just stepped out of an ad for pricey winter wear and should be walking into a snowy mountain resort instead of investigating a car bombing.
The four of them greeted each other. Acutely aware of the public watching, Max gave Noelle’s hand a quick squeeze.
“You’ve been assigned to this case?” he asked Noelle.
“Evan and me,” she said.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be here,” he said softly. “It hasn’t been that long.” Noelle and her sisters had nearly been killed when someone set off a car bomb in her vehicle.
Noelle looked at the smoking Mercedes. “I admit I felt sick to my stomach on the way over here. Still do.”
“They can assign someone else,” said Max. “Your lieutenant knows—”
“Max. I can do this.” Her tone clearly stated she didn’t want to discuss it.
He’d stepped over a line. Noelle was an experienced detective. She didn’t need him telling her what to do. “I’m sorry. I was out of my lane.”
“Yes, you were.” Her blue gaze held his for a long moment. “I assume you and Mercy are here because of a possible terrorism angle?” she asked in a normal, back-to-business voice. “Is there any issue if you and I are on the same case?” Her forehead wrinkled with concern.
“Correct. Terrorism,” said Max. “And I don’t think there is an issue with us?” he asked while looking at Mercy for her opinion. He’d never worked on a case with someone he was dating.
“Should be okay,” said Mercy. “Just keep your lieutenant informed.”
“I’ve got a forensics crew on their way,” said Noelle. “They’re not far behind.” She frowned at the firefighters still soaking the smoking vehicle. “They’re washing away evidence.”
“I’m pretty sure they teach that skill at the fire academy,” Max said wryly, acknowledging that the firefighters and investigators often had different priorities. “Can’t be helped.”
“Is this explosion related to the terrorism chatter we heard about?” asked Evan.
“That’s what we’re here to find out,” said Max. “Has anyone claimed responsibility?”
“Nothing’s come in to us,” said Noelle.
Mercy eyed the vehicle. “I was expecting something bigger than a single car if this is what we’ve been warned about,” she said quietly to the other three.
“Me too,” said Max.
Maybe this is someone angry about their court case.
“I’ll talk to the sergeant about getting video from the courthouse cameras,” said Evan.
Max turned in a circle, spotting several cameras outside the courthouse. “Should have plenty of video available. Ask him about local business video too.”
Evan nodded and headed toward the sergeant.
“We’re ready, boss.” Two women and a tall man wearing Tyvek jumpsuits approached Noelle. The forensics team.
“Take your time,” Noelle told them. She gestured for Max and Mercy to move back, and the tall man immediately started taking photos of the surrounding area, working his way in a circle toward the smoking sedan. “We’ll need a state fire investigator too.”
Max nodded and scanned the growing crowd outside the yellow tape. He pulled out his phone and covertly filmed the watchers. Fire setters often returned to see the reactions to their work. Most of the people appeared to be courthouse employees who’d evacuated after the explosion.
Doesn’t mean it couldn’t be one of them.
“We’ve got an explosives canine coming,” said Noelle.
“No one is to go back in the courthouse until it’s completely cleared.
Especially if they worked near Judge Holtz’s rooms.” Her attention turned to a man speaking loudly with one of the patrol officers manning the caution tape to keep the crowds back.
“Speak of the devil,” said Noelle.
“That’s the judge?” asked Mercy. “Let him in.”
Noelle strode to the judge, gesturing for him to duck under as she lifted the tape. He followed her to Max and Mercy, and Noelle made quick introductions.
Judge Howard Holtz was young—in his late thirties, Max guessed.
He wasn’t very tall and was extremely pale with tightly cropped blond hair.
He carried himself with authority, and the fury in his gaze grew every time he looked at his smoking vehicle.
“I’ve had that vehicle for six months,” he said after meeting the group. “What if I’d been in it?”
“Have you had any recent threats?” asked Max. “Phone calls or emails?”
“Threats are an everyday part of my job,” said the judge. “Sometimes they occur right inside the courtroom.”
“Anyone come immediately to mind?” asked Noelle.
Judge Holtz was quiet for a long moment, clearly weighing his options.
“I don’t want to point at any one person.
Sometimes the most violent threats are just hot air or keyboard warriors who feel safe behind their screens, but I can make you a list.” Frustration filled his gaze.
“What if they know where I live? I’ve got two kids. ”
“The Marshals Service will increase your security,” said Max, sympathizing with the man. He understood what it was like to work in a government job where half of the people you dealt with were angry at you.
“Detective!” The tall crime scene technician approached Noelle, urgency in his voice. “You need to see this,” he said in a hushed tone.
His words made the hairs on Max’s arms stand up.
What did he find?
Noelle took a step to follow the tall tech and then turned and held her hand up to the rest of the group. “Wait here. I don’t want too many people in the scene.”
“It’s my car,” said the judge.
“It’s evidence now,” said Max. “And we want it handled right.” His gaze hadn’t left Noelle as he spoke. She joined the tech at the car, where he pointed at something in the sedan’s open trunk. Noelle’s hand rose to cover her mouth and nose.
That wasn’t open when we got here.
And it’s bad.
Noelle glanced back at the group, meeting Max’s gaze and then looking at the judge.
“What’d they find?” asked the judge.
Max said nothing. Neither did Mercy.
We all know that look.
Noelle snapped a few photos of the trunk and then strode back to the group, her expression stormy. “I’m sorry, Judge Holtz,” she said flatly. “But there’s an adult male body in your trunk.”
“What?” The judge stumbled back a step. “A dead body?”
“Yes,” said Noelle. “Any idea how it came to be there?”
“For God’s sake, no! I have no idea!” He slapped a hand to his forehead, his eyes full of disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Noelle said grimly.
“Do . . . do I know him?” The judge looked past her to the car.
“It’d be helpful if you could identify him,” said Noelle. “But he’s hard to look at right now, and his face isn’t visible. I’ll leave that decision up to you. Maybe later would be best.”
Max shifted his feet, impatience rising. The sooner the body was identified, the faster the investigation could go.
“I’ll take a look,” said the judge.
Noelle opened her phone and showed him the screen. The judge stared and then quickly looked away, his throat visibly moving. She swiped to another photo. The judge sucked in a breath and glanced at it. His gaze shot away again.
“I can’t tell who that is,” he said. “Excuse me.” He darted to the side of the parking lot and vomited in the bushes.
“I’ll get him some water from my car,” said Mercy. She ducked under the police tape and jogged away.
Max stayed Noelle’s hand so he could see the photos.
The man in the trunk lay on his side, his legs folded up, ankles tied together, and his face turned toward the floor with his hands tied behind his back.
He was nude and covered with soggy soot.
His hair was short and either dark brown or black.
Max wasn’t sure due to the fire debris. He wasn’t surprised the judge couldn’t tell who it was.
“Could you tell an age?” he asked Noelle. “Anything?”
“No.”
Max straightened his back and checked on the judge. The man was sitting on the curb with his head on his knees as Mercy approached him, a water bottle and napkins in her hands.
Either the judge was a very good actor, or he’d had no idea there was a body in his trunk.
Max’s gut told him the judge hadn’t known.
“My second dead body in two days,” muttered Noelle.
“FBI will take the lead on this one,” said Max. “It could be domestic terrorism.”
“I have absolutely no problem with that,” said Noelle. “Let me know what you need.”
Max nodded and studied the car. All three techs were huddled around the back of the car, taking photos and making notes. One turned around and waved Noelle back over. Max followed.
The tech had turned the naked man’s head.
There was a bullet hole in his forehead.
Noelle looked at Max, and he read her thought.
Just like the man in the woods.