35
“I’ve got a distant male relative of Catherine Woods who lives in the area and could fit the age range we’re looking for,” said Detective Shults in an eager tone. “Take a look at his driver’s license photo. His height and weight don’t rule him out.” She swung her monitor for Noelle to see.
Rowan sat silently in the conference room at the sheriff’s department. She studied Lori’s screen, seeing a dark-haired man. The detectives had done a half dozen internet searches on potential subjects who could have had access to the home that SWAT had invaded. With each one, Rowan had gotten her hopes up, only to have them crash as the person was ruled out.
“He’s a step-grandnephew,” said Lori. “Jeremiah Bradley Fry. Goes by JB. No current work history. He’s twenty-seven and on medical disability, so we’ve got current records on his whereabouts. Address is an apartment on the east side of town.”
“How severe of a disability?” asked Noelle.
Rowan listened, prepared to have JB crossed off the list.
“Not sure. But he’s collected it for several years.”
Noelle popped his name into a Google search. “I love it when names are a bit unusual,” she said as she scanned the results. “Makes people easier to find. Hello, JB.” She grinned at her computer, and Rowan saw she was scrolling through a Facebook page. “His page is public,” said Noelle. “Idiot. Letting the world snoop through your stuff. But good for us.” She clicked on a few photos. “He appears physically active. Recent photos show him skiing and hanging out at a pool. He appears to be the same shape and size as the man who threw the Molotov cocktails into Rowan’s home. Shall we pay him a visit?”
“He won’t be holding hostages in his apartment,” said Rowan. Her limbs were heavy, and she ached to take a nap. The longer the search went on, the more it felt as if she were being sucked into the earth. Slowly. Deliberately. Soon she’d be unable to breathe.
“No, he won’t,” agreed Noelle, looking Rowan over from head to toe with a frown. “But he could be holding them somewhere else. We know there’s a second man involved—perhaps he’s the one with a location they’re using.” She paused. “You look like hell,” she finished, staring at Rowan.
She tried to appear alert. “I’ll feel better when we find Evan and Zack.”
Find them alive.
Lori pulled up the same Facebook page. “I’ll keep searching for the second guy. He could be in here somewhere ... maybe he’s a friend or in a photo. Have a deputy meet you at the Fry apartment. Has there been anything more from Maxine?”
Detective Nelson was currently at the home SWAT had entered that morning, searching for evidence of where the hostages could have been taken. She’d found a ripped shirt under the mattress in the second outbuilding that Rowan had identified as Evan’s.
Proof he’d been there.
Rowan had stared at the blue shirt, recalling it on him as he’d left the house that morning. But without the rust-colored stains that now covered the front.
Proof he’d been injured.
The commander had let Thor do a property search. Her dog had kept returning to the driveway of the home, indicating that was where Evan had last been.
Where he’d been most likely put in a vehicle.
In the trunk?
That was when she’d started to sink. Again.
Noelle stood and grabbed her bag. “Nothing more from Maxine yet.” As she headed toward the door, Rowan stood and followed, Thor at her side.
She focused on making her legs move appropriately, which took a high level of concentration. She was empty. Her lungs, her head, her heart. Everything felt hollow.
“Oh no you don’t.” Noelle had stopped at the conference room door and turned to find Rowan on her heels. “You’re not coming with me.”
Rowan froze. “Noelle ... you’ve got to—”
“Don’t tell me what I’ve got to do. You have no business going to check out a suspect. What if he doesn’t want to talk and shoots instead? I don’t need to worry about your safety. Not to mention if my lieutenant finds out you’re shadowing me, I’ll be working traffic.”
She’s right. I have no place in this.
But Noelle’s gaze faltered, and she glanced away.
Rowan seized the detective’s weak moment. “I’ll stay in the car. I won’t get out. I just can’t sit in this conference room wondering what you’ve found.”
“You could sit at home.” She still wouldn’t meet Rowan’s gaze.
“With my hovering mother? You’ve met my sisters, right? Can you guess what it’s like to be the center of their attention and pity?” Her sisters were at work and didn’t live with her parents, but it sounded like a strong reason.
Noelle sighed. “Okay. But you stay in the vehicle.”
“Of course.”
Rowan got out of the vehicle.
“What did I say?” asked Noelle as she slammed her driver’s door in the apartment building’s parking lot. “I feel like I’m reprimanding a teenager.”
“Thor’s about to explode,” said Rowan. She’d fully intended to stay in the vehicle, but he’d squirmed for the last five minutes of the ride. “It’ll just take a second. Go do your thing.” Rowan walked her dog to a grassy strip and watched Noelle and a deputy head down a sidewalk, searching for the right apartment.
Thor sniffed a bush. And then another. And then sniffed a big rock.
“Hey,” said Rowan. “Hurry up. Noelle isn’t happy with us.”
Thor looked back at her.
/treats/
“No treats until you go.”
Thor checked the rock again. He circled it and then lifted a leg.
Rowan politely looked away. And spotted a man sprinting toward her on the path Noelle and the deputy had just taken.
She recognized JB from his driver’s license.
“Deschutes County sheriff! Stop! ” the deputy yelled from fifty feet behind JB. He and Noelle tore after the subject.
JB didn’t stop running. He locked eyes with Rowan.
“Thor, ball !” she whispered, and Thor immediately took several steps, ears forward, head up, making his leash tighten as he searched the area for the imaginary ball. “Deschutes County sheriff!” Rowan yelled at JB as he approached. “Stop or I’ll send my dog after you!”
The man’s gaze locked on Thor, who eagerly awaited him at the end of his leash, hoping he had a ball. JB slammed to a halt and lifted his hands.
“Don’t move!” Rowan shouted at him. The sham had been a risk, but with Thor wearing a harness and Rowan in dark-brown pants and a beige jacket, similar to the color of the county uniform, it’d been enough to make JB think twice about running.
Rowan had seen it several times. Some suspects were terrified of being bitten by the apprehension dogs and would immediately give up when the dog appeared. Others ran and within minutes found themselves writhing on the ground with a dog toothily attached to one of their limbs.
Behind JB, the deputy gave orders for him to get on the ground. JB’s gaze was still locked on Thor, and Rowan urged her dog to take a few steps in JB’s direction. The man dropped to the ground and, before he was told, placed his hands on his head while keeping one eye on Thor.
Thor happily wagged his tail.
The deputy cuffed JB as Noelle approached Rowan.
Both women said nothing, but a silent exchange occurred within their gazes.
This is why I wanted you to stay in the vehicle.
You’re welcome for stopping your suspect.
You got lucky.
“What happened?” asked Rowan.
“He must have seen us through a window,” said Noelle. “We had just spotted the right apartment when he came tearing out the door.” Noelle gave Thor some scratches. “Good boy!”
Rowan pulled a small floppy Frisbee from a pocket. She always had toys and kibble on her. Evan had quickly learned to empty all her pockets before doing laundry. She unhooked Thor and flung the Frisbee. It wasn’t the promised ball, but Thor didn’t care as he morphed into a black blur flying across the apartment grass.
The deputy helped JB to his feet. “What did I do?” JB asked with a grumpy frown.
“You ran when we told you to stop,” said Noelle. “It’s not complicated.”
“I didn’t know what you wanted.”
“Most people ask that question instead of running like a zombie horde is after them,” said Noelle.
“Actually zombies are slow,” JB solemnly informed her.
“Then you haven’t seen World War Z ,” said Noelle.
“Or Dawn of the Dead ,” said the deputy.
“ Zombieland ,” added Rowan.
JB stared at them for a long moment, confusion lurking in his eyes. “What did I do?” he repeated. His jeans were wet at the knees from dropping to the damp grass, and he wore a faded Guns N’ Roses T-shirt that had a large hole near the armpit. He was barefoot.
Nothing physically ruled him out as the man at the fire.
Not getting my hopes up.
“Let’s go back to your apartment and have a little talk,” said Noelle with a warm smile.
A few minutes later, JB was seated on his sofa with the deputy standing nearby. Noelle grabbed a chair from the dining area and sat on it directly in front of JB, recording audio on her phone. Rowan leaned against the wall near the door, Thor sitting beside her, his black eyes focused on JB, probably still wondering about the ball.
“Does your dog speak German?” asked JB. He’d kept a nervous gaze on Thor since being cuffed.
“He can only bark,” said Rowan. “Or growl.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I give English commands. You’re thinking of police dogs who are trained to apprehend suspects. Sometimes they work with German commands. Thor only does search and rescue.” Rowan enjoyed the realization on JB’s face as he understood that Thor hadn’t been about to chase or bite him. At Thor’s name, her dog glanced up at Rowan and wagged his tail, sweeping a fast arc on the linoleum.
/ball/
“Soon,” she told him. He sighed and dropped to his belly.
“Now that we all know Thor won’t bite you,” began Noelle, “tell me how you know Catherine Woods.”
Guilt flashed in JB’s eyes. “I got nothing to do with that.”
“With what?” asked Noelle.
JB went silent, clearly mulling over how to answer without admitting anything. “Why do you ask?”
“Not good enough, JB,” said Noelle in a patient voice. “You know the reason we’re here. Why don’t you make it easy on yourself and cooperate? Lying or clamming up will make it worse. I can tell the DA you were hindering our investigation, or I can tell them you were helpful. It will benefit you in the long run if I say helpful.”
JB’s attention wandered as Noelle spoke, and he focused on Thor again.
“Does your dog speak German?” he asked.
Rowan tipped her head. JB appeared serious. She exchanged glances with Noelle and the deputy, who both seemed confused.
JB’s shoulders sank as he looked at the floor. “I bet I already asked that, didn’t I?”
“You did,” said Rowan. “You don’t remember?”
“I forget shit sometimes ... well, a lot of the time.”
“Convenient,” Noelle said dryly.
His head popped up, and he glared daggers at her. “It’s not convenient. It sucks. Do you know how hard it is to keep a job when you constantly forget what you’re supposed to be doing?”
Is this his disability?
“How long have you been forgetting things?” asked Rowan.
JB screwed up his face in thought. “It’s been a couple years. Cracked my skull in two places in a bar fight. For a while I could barely even talk. Was in the hospital several days.” Confusion crossed his face. “Or was that from the car accident?”
He sounds sincere.
Rowan wasn’t ready to trust him. And judging by the “You’re bullshitting me” expression on Noelle’s face, she wasn’t either.
“I need to use the bathroom,” JB announced.
Noelle’s phone vibrated and she glanced at it. “I need to take this. Two-minute bathroom break,” she said to the deputy. He grabbed JB’s upper arm to help him off the sofa and walked him down the hall.
“Be right back.” Noelle passed Rowan as she stepped out of the apartment, and Rowan spotted Maxine’s name on the screen.
Her heartbeat sped up.
Bad news?