Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cain had already finished his meal, so he motioned the waitress to take the plate and bring the bill. Officer Kennett looked like a man on a mission. As he walked in their direction, he paused for a moment at the counter. Appeared like he placed a to-go order.
Finished, Kennett grabbed a chair from the few stacked in the corner then sat at the end of their booth. “Saw your truck in the parking lot. Figured I could save myself some time.”
“What do you mean?” Cain asked.
The officer looked at Betsy. “The other two women in your little group have been on the phone all afternoon.”
“First off, thank you for not calling me ma’am.” She smiled. “Second, you’re going to need to be more specific on who. I’ve got more than one three-musketeer group.”
For some reason Cain didn’t quite believe that. She had always been a very private person when it came to her family and friends. Nothing he’d seen since coming back to town led him to think any different.
“Marcy and Joanie. They got together on the phone, planned what you’d need if you were staying at Cain’s house, and made a list. Since Marcy’s in New York, it was Joanie who got everything together.
Then she made me read off the list as she packed the tote bag I’ve now got in my cruiser with unofficial orders to deliver it to you.
” Kennett sighed in exasperation. Pinched the space between his eyebrows with his fingers.
“Just so you know, I don’t ever want to read that list again. ”
“Do you have a headache?” Betsy asked the officer, clearly concerned.
Cain was beginning to feel sorry for him, but as long as it wasn’t himself involved in this evidently super important plan, he’d stay happy. And quiet.
“No. I don’t have a headache. But the day’s not over, yet.” Kennett glanced at Cain before turning to stare at Betsy. “And just for the record…I don’t buy that you’ve got another three-musketeer group anywhere in the world. Ma’am.
Betsy burst out in spontaneous laughter. So surprising and kind of loud that a few of the diners glanced in her direction. Trying to stifle herself, she covered her mouth with one hand while she reached out with the other and covered the officer’s hand.
“Oh my gosh, Kennett. That was a fantastic smart aleck comeback.” She wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of her right eye.
Then sucked in a breath and blew it out calmly as if getting herself back under control.
“It’s taken a couple of years, but you have become one of us. You’ve become a friend.”
The officer grinned. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”
“I’ve learned to just take it as good and go from there,” Cain said as he stood. “I hate to break this up, but we should head on out.”
Breaking the tension for a few minutes had felt good, but Betsy and he needed to get to his house before the appointment with JB at eight o’clock tonight.
Cain had also picked up on the signal from Kennett, the one that was nothing more than a quick glance at the door. Odds were that they needed to talk.
“Okay.” Betsy slid out of her seat as she pointed at the restroom sign above the doorway to the short hallway, then headed in that direction. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll go on out and get the tote bag from Kennett’s cruiser,” Cain said. “See you at my truck.”
The two men left the diner, and after retrieving the tote from the cruiser, they walked over to Cain’s truck.
He tossed the tote in the back seat. “You look tired, Kennett. Of course, it’s been a long day. First, the early call to Peyton’s. Then Betsy’s house break-in. I imagine you’ve had a lot of evidence to collect.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Kennett leaned forward and braced his forearms on the hood of the truck. “Crayton wasn’t the only place to get hit on last night.”
“Where else?”
“Had five or six similar smash and spray break-in events around Missouri and Illinois. Even a couple in eastern Kansas that resulted in shots being fired. One fatality. In fact, a DEA task force has been called in to assist.”
“It’ll be interesting who the DEA sends since there are already undercover agents working the area.”
“Would one of them be you?”
“Nope.” Cain laughed. “Some months back, they suggested that since I grew up in Crayton, I’d be perfect for the dark assignment they were putting together. I said no. But I did need to come back to town and do exactly what I’m doing.”
Kennett cleared his throat. “I’m not grilling you, but just what exactly are you doing in Crayton?”
Both men quieted at the sound of the diner’s front door opening. A couple of customers exited and went toward the parking lot on the other side of the building.
Cain turned back to face the officer. “Truth is, I am working on the house. It needs to be sold. My dad is still up in Alaska, and he likes it there…when he remembers where he’s at.
” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he ended with swipes to clear his eyes of moisture.
“I’ve been able to get him into a good Alzheimer Memory Care facility up there, but it’s not cheap. Selling the house will help.”
Kennett swallowed and cleared his throat once again. “That’s a tough one, Cain. I’m sorry.
“I am, too. He wasn’t always the best dad in the world. But no one wants to see a parent in that situation.”
Moving to the other side of the hood, Cain mirrored the officer’s leaning stance as they spent the next few minutes hashing out clues and evidence. “Any of the other town hits have a follow-up break-in like Betsy’s house today?”
“Still working on that. I do know none of the others ended up with a dead body in a dumpster. But like I said, there were at least a couple shooting incidents. Plus, Hastings and I are still following up on reports of two people getting roughed up because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Kind of like Papa Carrington?”
“Exactly.” Kennett rolled his neck as if trying to work the kinks out. “In fact, I’m headed out to a few of the locations. “Sometimes seeing and talking to people in person is a lot better than reading reports and looking at photos.”
Cain shivered as a passing chill raced through his body. “True. You might also try to get a timeline which might give us a clue as to whether there was one, two or more involved.”
Seconds later Betsy emerged with a to-go bag and large fountain drink. She smiled and raised the items above her head as she walked toward the truck.
“By the way, we got some good footprint casts from the snow at both places. Should be able to compare them with any photos or casts the other places have taken.”
She sat the officer’s food order on the bench in front of the truck’s parking spot, then walked the few steps over and into the two guys’ conversation.
Even mirrored the stance of the two men as if she were in on whatever was being discussed.
“The waitress said they’d put it on your card, but I just went ahead and paid for it. My treat.”
“Thank you. I do like their bacon hamburgers. And their prices.”
The three of them laughed, breaking the tension of the day.
It struck Cain that they had settled into a triangle on the hood.
Triangles were one of the strongest bases in the world.
Maybe the three of them could at least connect some dots for the past twenty-four hours.
At this point, the more people, events, happenings, sightings and more that could be grouped into a circle, the better their chance of narrowing that circle.
“Now what’s this about footprint casts?” she asked. “Did you find some shoe prints around Peyton’s or my house?”
“Mainly at your house.” Kennett scrunched his shoulders against a sudden gust of cold wind. “As I’m sure you know, the police always look for clues…footprints, fingerprints, hair…anything like that. Footprints are easier to find in mud or snow.”
“And we had an inch or so of snowfall late last night,” Betsy said.
“Right. Plus, that area being shaded by the pine branches, there was some snow from the storm still left, also.”
A tentative quiet settled awkwardly around the three of them. Kennett stared at the hood in front of him. Betsy seemed intently concerned with her gloved hands, fidgeting to press the fingers between each other, then flattening them out to begin again.
She bit the side of her lip and made sure not to make eye contact with either of them. “So has anyone heard the latest weather for—”
“Betsy, you were really scared when you got in my truck this morning.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“You kept looking back at the front porch.”
Again, she nodded. “Okay.”
“And when we came back to your house, you mentioned someone might have been there by the porch when we left. Right?”
“Yes.” Slowly she closed her eyes, then wiped the corner of her right eye. “Wouldn’t have been the first time.”
He picked up on her tone and attitude with that additional slightly mumbled sentence.
From the looks of her reactions, this was a tough conversation, but he sensed this could be a point to put in their circle.
“I asked Kennett to make sure he checked for footprints behind the pine tree at the end of your porch. Plus, to check them against any that showed up at Peyton’s. ”
She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Do you know whose footprint that is?” Kennett asked, pulling out his pen and small notepad.
As if a switch had been flipped, the strong, observant, clearheaded Betsy lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know for sure, but I’ve got my suspicions. But I doubt it will be of help.”
“You tell us what you know. We’ll work it from there,” Cain said. “Just start from the very first time you thought someone was there.”
Again, she bit the side of her lip. Shivered. “It’s getting colder out here. Can we sit in the truck?”
A minute later she and Cain were in the front seat, while Kennett sat in the back, eating his sandwich. The heater’s warmth made the tense conversation better in one respect, at least.