Chapter 16
Huck clicked off the phone call with Abigail’s ex-husband, who had a rock solid alibi considering he’d been in Tokyo for the last six months. The guy had sounded truly concerned about the woman and seemed to still be in love with her.
How did she fool so many people?
Shaking his head, Huck strode out of his office and crossed the reception area, his boots thumping against the well-worn floor.
Aeneas followed him quietly. Ena stood behind the counter, organizing folders.
She’d gone still, eyes locked on a piece of paper, her cheekbones darkened with a pink flush that didn’t bode well.
He stopped, his gaze narrowing. “I’m heading out to Genesis Community Church to talk to suspects and witnesses about the courthouse shooting.”
She snapped her head up, shoulders tight, almost vibrating with indignation. “You are not going to believe this.” She pushed away from the desk, the movement sharp. “Absolutely not going to believe this.”
Huck folded his arms, noting the way she gripped the paper as if she wanted to crumple it. “What happened?”
“The yew grove up around Stony Mountain. The one Fish and Wildlife has been monitoring for years?” Her voice cracked with anger. “Someone’s gone through it. Cut down trees, hauled them out. Even took some mushrooms.”
Huck’s fingers curled into fists. “They’re clearing out the yews?”
“Craken McGregor was hiking out there a couple of days ago. It’s only a mile or so from his cabin, and he said the grove looks like a war zone. Trees hacked down, brush trampled. The whole area’s torn up.”
Huck’s jaw tightened. That grove held Pacific yew trees, which were rare enough to warrant special attention.
Their bark and needles produced taxanes, which were essential compounds for chemotherapy drugs like Taxol.
Poachers sometimes targeted the trees for that reason, especially in well-established groves like the one near Stony Mountain.
“Damn it.” Huck ground his teeth and tried to shove down irritation. “Why would anyone risk poaching out there? It’s posted with warning signs.”
Ena grabbed her purse, her movements stiff and clipped. “Because they don’t care.”
“Take Officer Jordan, and both of you arm yourselves.”
“Not a problem.” Ena’s eyes remained hard, determination etched across her face.
Huck shook his head, his mind already cataloging the mess.
Plenty of people knew better than to mess with the yews.
Fish and Wildlife kept tabs on those groves for a reason, and while the trees themselves didn’t hold value for standard logging, their medicinal potential brought in poachers from all over.
Still, the grove up by Stony Mountain hadn’t been targeted before. “Be careful out there.”
“We will. I’ll go grab Officer Jordan.” Ena shot him a glare before heading toward the bullpen in the back of the office.
Huck strode outside and to his truck through the misting rain, water clinging to his jacket. He secured the dog in the crate in back, his thoughts still turning over what Ena had told him. Rare yew trees uprooted and stolen.
He fired up the truck and pulled out, tires crunching over wet gravel. The drive to Genesis Valley Community Church took about ten minutes, winding along the river and past the outskirts of town. Rain continued to fall, soft but steady, painting the world in shades of gray and green.
The church rose ahead, its steeple cutting into the low clouds.
Two stories of pale stone and painted clapboards by forest and open grass.
Stained-glass windows gleamed even under the dull sky, their blues and greens depicting mountains and rivers with a craftsmanship that spoke of dedication.
Beyond the building, the river swelled, its currents churning from the rain.
Huck parked near the front of the gravel lot, tires crunching over the uneven surface.
The rain had turned the dirt to mud in patches, but most of the lot held firm.
He jumped out, opened the back door to unlatch the dog crate before whistling for Aeneas to follow.
The dog hopped down, his ears perked and eyes sharp, already scanning the area.
Huck clipped on Aeneas’s leash, though the dog rarely needed it.
They’d let him inside before, especially when Huck only planned to visit the offices and not the actual church.
The air smelled of wet earth and cedar. Rain continued to fall in a soft drizzle, muffling sounds and making the world feel smaller, more contained.
Huck stepped up to the church’s entrance, his boots leaving muddy prints on the stone walkway.
Pastor John met him at the door, holding it open with one hand. “Huck,” he said, his voice deep and welcoming.
“Pastor.” Huck gave him a nod, eyeing the man’s casual jeans and black sweatshirt. The outfit was a far cry from his usual robes, but it fit the rainy day.
They’d crossed paths on several cases before, and Huck had learned a few things about the man.
Helpful when he wanted to be. Not exactly a saint.
The pastor’s habit of dating younger members of his congregation, married or otherwise, had stirred trouble before.
Scandal had rocked the church not too far back, but since Pastor Zeke’s death, Pastor John was the last one standing.
As far as Huck could tell, the man did his job well enough, other than his weakness for risky relationships.
“Come this way,” Pastor John said, already turning toward his office. In his midthirties, the pastor had deep brown skin, curly brown hair, and light brown eyes, and he was about Huck’s height.
Huck followed, Aeneas trotting beside him with his nose twitching at every new scent. The dog’s claws clicked against the tile floor, announcing their arrival.
The office looked different. Huck noted the changes immediately.
A framed Seahawks poster hung on one wall, bold and bright, dominating the space.
Photographs lined the credenza with shots of Pastor John with congregation members, smiling and shaking hands, mixed with fishing trips where he held up silver-scaled catches, beaming at the camera.
“You’ve redecorated.” Huck’s gaze lingered on the sports memorabilia before drifting to the photographs.
“Yeah. I packed up all of Pastor Zeke’s belongings.” Pastor John’s voice held a note of finality. His gaze lingered on the shelves before shifting back to Huck. “I don’t suppose Agent Snow would want any of them.”
“Absolutely not.” Huck shook his head.
Pastor John sank into his chair, eyes narrowing. “I’ve called Abigail a couple of times. Haven’t heard back. Can’t believe someone shot her right on the courthouse steps. It’s insane.” His brows drew down, deep lines creasing his forehead. “Unbelievable violence.”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you about.” Huck remained standing, arms folded, his stance steady. Aeneas sat beside him, head tilted slightly, listening as if he understood every word. “You did date Abigail, and she did dump you. Correct?”
Pastor John leaned back, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I believe the breakup was more mutual. But yes, we did date.” He paused, gaze steady. “I certainly don’t want her dead.”
Huck watched the man’s expression, the way his shoulders remained relaxed despite the pointed question. “Do you own an AK-47?”
“I do not.” Pastor John shook his head, his smile fading. “Nor would I know how to shoot anyone from a distance.”
The response sounded plausible enough. Still, Huck planned to run a deeper dive on the pastor’s history, just to be sure. “I heard that you served in the military.”
“As a chaplain. Briefly. That was it.”
“Is there anybody in the congregation who might want Abigail dead?” Huck shifted his weight, glancing briefly at Aeneas who had settled beside the desk.
Pastor John shrugged. “Not really. A lot of people are upset she killed Zeke Caine. That doesn’t just go away.
” He paused, the lines around his eyes deepening.
“And there are people who never liked her because she’s not the warmest of women.
Abigail’s brilliant, but she’s blunt and rubs people the wrong way.
But I can’t imagine anyone shooting her like that. ”
“Are you aware of anybody with the skill to pull off that kind of shot?” Huck pressed, his gaze never leaving the pastor’s face.
“No.” Pastor John spread his hands, palms up. “This isn’t exactly a congregation full of sharpshooters. Although, weren’t you a sniper?”
Huck’s brow lifted. “I was,” he said, wondering how the man had uncovered that detail. “But I was on the courthouse steps when Abigail was shot. So it couldn’t have been me.”
“I didn’t think it was.” Pastor John adjusted some papers on his desk. “You might not know this, but Tim Kohnex served in the military after his basketball years.”
The revelation landed with weight. “He did?” Huck’s mind churned through everything he’d uncovered about Kohnex during the last investigation. That piece of information had never surfaced.
“Yes.” Pastor John leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what he did exactly, but you might want to ask him.”
“Is there anybody else worth questioning?”
The pastor’s gaze drifted to the window, his shoulders rising and falling with a slow breath.
“Zeke’s girlfriend is especially distraught.
I’ve tried to counsel her, but she’s in pain.
They seemed to be casually dating, but apparently she was in deeper than she realized.
As you requested, she’s here waiting to see you. ”
“Thanks.”
Pastor John rose from his desk and handed over a pink flyer. “We’re having our annual Spring Worship Day next Thursday to kick off the better weather and outside activities. I’d love it if you and Agent Snow would come.”
Huck took the flyer, folded it, and stuck it in his pocket. “I’ll ask Laurel, but I don’t see her wanting to spend time in her father’s old church. No offense.”
“None taken.” Pastor John smiled. “Just think about it. For now, I’ll go get Uma for you. Unless you have any other questions for me?”
Huck did have one. “Has anyone confessed anything to you about Abigail’s shooting?”
Pastor John’s eyebrows rose. “If someone had, you certainly know I couldn’t tell you.”
“Could you give me a hint?”
“Absolutely not.”
Huck let out a slow breath. “I understand.”
Pastor John left the office and returned a few minutes later with a young woman who looked like she’d spent the last several nights wideawake.
“This is Uma.” Pastor John gestured her inside. “She was dating Zeke.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” Huck offered his hand. They’d met once before. “Would you please have a seat?”
Uma dropped into the chair, her fingers twitching against the strap of her purse. She had long brown hair and eyes and seemed much more intense than last time he’d met her. She looked everywhere but at him.
Huck shifted his own chair so he faced her directly. “Have you threatened Abigail Caine?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Define ‘threatened.’”
“Did you say you were going to kill her?”
“No.” Uma picked at a nail, the sharp movement betraying her nerves. “I ran into her in the parking lot at the grocery store. Told her she deserved to die.”
“But you didn’t shoot at her?”
“No.” Uma’s shoulders stiffened. “I didn’t shoot her. Didn’t hire anyone to do it either.”
“I have a warrant for your home and bank records,” Huck said, his tone flat.
Uma’s chin lifted defiantly. “Feel free. I don’t have any money. If I did, I wouldn’t waste it hiring a sniper. But Abigail Caine will get hers. There’s not a doubt in my mind.”
“That sounded like a threat.”
“I don’t care.” Her eyes narrowed, expression hardening. “I loved Zeke. We were going to get married.”
When had she gone off the rails? “After dating a month?”
“When love happens, it happens fast.” Uma shot to her feet, eyes blazing. “I don’t have to talk to you.”
“No, you don’t.” Huck’s voice remained calm. “But you should tell me everything right now.”
“Screw you.” She stormed out, the door slamming hard enough to make the photographs rattle on the walls.
“That wasn’t very churchly,” Huck muttered.
Pastor John reappeared in the doorway, concern etched across his face. “That looked rough, but the love of her life was murdered by his own daughter.”
“He wasn’t a good man.” Huck kept his arms folded, his gaze unwavering.
“I don’t judge.” Pastor John shrugged, but the gesture seemed forced. “If the rumors are true, then he’ll face judgment. One way or another.”
Huck rarely thought much about heaven or hell, but if anyone deserved to rot in hell, it was Zeke Caine.
The pastor cleared his throat. “Tim Kohnex is here waiting to speak with you. He wants me to convince you that he’s telling the truth. I think he is.”
Tim Kohnex strode inside, his mutt trailing at his heels.
Aeneas lifted his head, sniffed the air, then rested his chin back on his paws.
Kohnex took the chair Uma had vacated. “I didn’t shoot Abigail,” he said, voice rough and low.
“But I warned her evil was coming for her. It is. She deserves it for murdering our beloved Pastor Zeke.”
“Tell me about your military record,” Huck said.
“It was brief. Worked as a mechanic. Didn’t like the structure. Got out.” Tim shrugged. “I’m not military. But I can shoot. Grew up hunting, fishing, shooting. It’s what I do.”
The man’s twitchy gaze didn’t match the nonchalance in his voice. Huck watched him carefully. “So you do want Abigail dead?”
“No.” Tim shook his head. “I want her behind bars. But Captain, you need to protect yours.”
“My what?”
Kohnex threw up both hands. “Your woman. She’s in more danger than you can imagine.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No.” Tim tipped his head back, eyes unfocused. “The wind speaks to me. It tells me when there’s danger. I know it’s coming for Laurel Snow. I tried to warn her and she wouldn’t listen. The nightmares won’t stop. I have to get through to her.”
Huck stiffened. “Really?”
Tim’s eyes widened, the blue darkening. “Yes. I don’t know how or why. But it’s coming from a distance. Like a bullet.”
Huck’s phone vibrated in his pocket, cutting through the tension. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. A text from Laurel.
Another sniper. Shots fired, and the doctor next to me died.
Everything inside Huck went cold.
Tim’s lips curved into a slow, almost satisfied smile. “I am not sure what you just read, but I feel like the wind is happy. You believe me now, don’t you?”