Читать книгу Innocent Target - Elisabeth Rees - Страница 14

“You’re doing what?” Deputy Shane Harmon slapped his thigh while doubling over with laughter. “You’re renting an apartment at the Linklater house? You sure must be a glutton for punishment. Some people say that she’s bad news.”

Ryan bristled at the criticism of Kitty. She might be mistakenly loyal to her father, but she was a good and decent person underneath it all. After a lot of reflection, he’d concluded that her heart was in the right place. He only wished that her head would overrule her strong emotions.

“Come on now, Shane, she’s not that bad,” Ryan said. “She’s had a rough couple of years, what with all the publicity about her father’s crime, and now she’s convinced that somebody is trying to kill her.”

“Kill her?” Shane questioned with a dubious frown. “She’s not exactly Bethesda’s favorite person, but I don’t think anybody would want her dead.”

“Well, someone certainly tried to hurt her yesterday. I chased him to a boat on the lake, which I’d like you to try to trace.”

“There are a lot of boats that use the lake, so it’ll be tough to locate the owner,” Shane said. “Does Kitty have any idea who it might be?”

“No, but she reckons the attack is linked to her investigation into the Molly Thomas murder.”

Shane pinched his lips together in disgust. “The Molly Thomas murder is solved. Can’t we just let that little girl rest in peace, so her family can try to move on?”

“You won’t hear any argument from me on that,” Ryan said, instantly conjuring up an image of his parents, and how hard the loss of Gina had been on them. If anyone had been around, constantly talking about the trial, trying to cast doubt on the conviction, it would have destroyed their tattered peace of mind. “But Kitty’s got it in her head that the real killer is trying to stop her from getting to the truth.”

“The only truth is that Kitty’s made enemies around here, asking all her intrusive questions and publishing newspaper articles criticizing our police work. If somebody is targeting her, she’s only got herself to blame. She needs to stop what she’s doing or else she might come to real harm.”

“That’s not fair,” Ryan stated. “She’s not doing anything illegal and she has the right to live in peace, just like everyone else. We don’t have to agree with her, but it’s our sworn duty to protect her.”

“Yes, sir.” Shane appeared contrite. “I guess I went too far there. It’s a touchy subject, but you’re right that she shouldn’t be afraid to speak her mind. But she’s not the only outspoken one in this town. I just hope you know what you’re doing by renting her apartment.” He nodded to the street, where some residents were making their way to the station, faces fixed with angry expressions. “Because when these folk hear that you’re rooming with Kitty, they won’t be happy.”

Before he could reply, the door opened and Frank Price walked in with his grandson, Buzz.

Frank was the owner of the hardware store and Buzz was just eighteen, recently graduated from high school and now working for his granddad. Close behind the two men were Carla Torlioni and her husband, Joe, from the café. And all were carrying copies of the Comanche Times.

Frank slapped the newspaper on the counter. “We need you to put a stop to Kitty Linklater.”

Ryan read the headline at the top of the page the paper was opened to: “Bethesda Man Challenges His Murder Conviction.” He scanned the story below, learning that Kitty had tracked down a man who could corroborate her father’s alibi on the night in question. Apparently, Molly’s time of death had been approximately 11:00 p.m., whereas a new witness placed Harry in the Starlight Bar from 8:00 p.m. until 2:00 a.m. From the looks of the man’s photo, visible in the corner of the article, he was a heavy drinker and possibly a transient, not exactly a model witness.

“That poor Thomas family has been through quite enough,” Carla said. “It’s not right.”

There were murmurs of agreement from all present in the station, even from Shane. Ryan could understand why. If somebody had been fighting to undermine the conviction of Cody Jones, he would’ve fought against it with the same level of resentment. What Kitty was doing was perhaps morally wrong.

But it wasn’t illegal. And it was his job to uphold only the law.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing that can be done about Kitty’s investigation,” Ryan said. “She’s perfectly entitled to make these claims, whether we like it or not.”

“So you’re saying we just have to put up with it?” Carla said.

“Why don’t you complain to the newspaper people?” he suggested. “They’re the ones printing the articles.”

“We’ve already done that,” Frank said. “But we want someone with official authority to get involved. You’re meant to keep order around here, so do something.”

“And just what would you suggest I do?” Ryan asked, a little perplexed. “Arrest her? For what?”

“Can’t you warn her to stop stirring up trouble?” Frank asked. “Why can’t Kitty move away and leave us in peace? It’d be nice to see the entire Linklater family gone from these parts.”

“This is Kitty’s town, too, and I don’t think she has any intention of going anywhere.” Ryan wondered if he should let the townsfolk know of his new living arrangements, but decided that now was not a good time. “I hope nobody thinks they can force Kitty out of her family home. She was attacked by a masked man yesterday, and I’m very concerned for her safety. If anyone knows anything about this attack, I’d appreciate you sharing that information.”

The station fell quiet.

Carla was the first to break the silence. She cleared her throat importantly and adjusted the collar on her starched white blouse.

“I’m sorry that Kitty’s been attacked, I really am, but she’s got to take some responsibility for her actions. Plenty of people don’t take kindly to her meddling.”

Joe was clearly more sympathetic than his wife. “Come on, honey, we don’t wish harm on her, do we?” He turned to Ryan as Carla gave her husband a stony glare. “Is Kitty okay?”

“She’s fine,” he replied. “But she’s pretty shaken up. Whatever Kitty’s father has done, she doesn’t deserve to fear for her life, so if any of you hear about who might be responsible for the attack yesterday, I’d like you to come and talk with me in confidence. We can’t allow residents to take the law into their own hands.” He caught Buzz’s eye. “Isn’t that right, young man?”

“Yes, sir,” Buzz said compliantly.

With a head of fair curls and baby blue eyes, Buzz possessed a face more suited to a boy band heartthrob than a hardware store clerk. But he was clearly cowed by his grandfather and his body language was uneasy.

“I hear that Sheriff Wilkins is retiring soon,” Frank said to Ryan. “And I’ve been told that you’re a hot contender for the job. But if you don’t get Kitty under control then your chances of support from this town don’t look good.”

Ryan frowned, unhappy with Frank’s choice of words. Kitty wasn’t a wayward animal to be brought under control. She was a human being, acting irrationally because she loved her father.

“Let’s go, Buzz,” Frank said, leading his grandson to the door. “I’m sure our new chief deputy has got a lot of work to do.”

The four residents filed from the station, leaving Ryan to contemplate just how he was going to broach this subject with Kitty. Shane was already one step ahead of him.

“I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, trying to persuade Kitty Linklater to drop her investigation,” he said. “She won’t take kindly to you telling her what to do.”

“I don’t intend to tell her what to do. I just need to remind her that she has a responsibility to be kind to the community. They’re hurting.”

“She’s hurting, too, boss. And people in pain tend to lash out when cornered.”

Ryan rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. That was exactly what he was worried about.

* * *

Kitty walked around her house, checking that each window was closed and locked. She fingered the Band-Aid covering the cut on her forehead, pressing down the sides, feeling a bruise settling there.

On top of her worries about her attacker, she was also anxious about Ryan moving in to the apartment. She kept telling herself that his presence would be reassuring, but a more powerful emotion niggled away: dread. For months she had been increasingly rejected by a small but vocal section of the community. Most of the town was holding its peace on the issue, but those few voices kept getting louder—and there was no one actively on her side, speaking up in her defense. As a result, she’d become ever more reclusive, avoiding town functions and special events. But now she would possibly be forced to confront the hostility that she expertly evaded in her daily life. Ryan was quite open about his belief in her father’s guilt and the more she considered this fact, the more it bothered her. For a lawmaker, he was closed-minded and biased, not willing to even consider that the jury made the wrong call. Of course, she knew why. A man who’d lost his sister to a murderer at the tender age of nine would never trust the word of a convicted killer. She would simply have to live with his prejudiced mind and try not to let it bother her.

She entered the living room, jumping at a streak of black in her peripheral vision.

“Oh, Shadow,” she said in playful rebuke, seeing him walking along the windowsill outside, crying to come in. “Why don’t you use your flap like a normal cat? Okay,” she said, opening the window. “Come on in and get dry.”

He snaked through the window, walked onto the piano and shook himself over her, causing her to laugh and brush herself down. Then she reached for the handle of the window to close it up.

But someone was waiting for her.

A hand stretched up from below and firmly clasped her wrist, pulling her forward. She reacted instantly and instinctively, yanking her arm from side to side as if to shake off a spider. She looked for any indicators that would help her identify this man, but Kitty could see only a limb, an arm that belonged to a man hidden in the bush below.

Using her other hand, she pulled the window shut while simultaneously wrenching her arm inside. The frame caught the hairy limb of her attacker and he howled from below, losing his grip and pulling back, allowing her to fully shut the window. She secured the latch, turned the lock and ran from the room, snatching up her cell from the hallway table along the way.

She could hear the door being rattled as she fumbled in her pocket for Ryan’s number.

“Ryan,” she said breathlessly when he answered. “Somebody’s here again. He’s trying to get in.”

“Stay calm and I’ll be there soon.”

A bullet came through the front door, slamming hard into the wall just yards away. She screamed.

“He’s shooting!” she cried.

“I’m on my way right now,” he promised. “Do you have a gun?”

She ran up the stairs. “Yes, it’s in my bedroom.”

Another bullet zinged through the air behind her, finding a vase on the table and shattering it into pieces.

Ryan clearly heard the commotion. “Get your gun, stay upstairs and barricade yourself in your room. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be afraid to shoot, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Hold tight.”

She gasped, remembering that Shadow was still in the living room. Without hesitation, she ran back down the stairs, screaming as another bullet pinged through the door, just missing her shoulder.

“Shadow,” she called. “Where are you?”

He immediately ran to the sound of her voice and she scooped him up into her arms. Then she turned and raced back to her room, as a pounding foot came down on the wooden door from outside, pummeling it.

Reaching her bedroom, she fled inside and slammed the door. After placing Shadow on the floor, Kitty used all her force to drag her dresser across the entrance, wondering if it would be enough. She figured the front door must have given way when she heard a loud bang resound through the house, and then footsteps run through the downstairs area.

“Please hurry, Ryan,” she muttered, dragging her bed across the rug to give her barricade extra strength.

The footsteps stopped. Her noise had revealed her location. Now her attacker would surely be coming for her. She slid open the top drawer of her low dresser and pulled out her black handgun, checking the bullets in the chamber. The man was there, outside her room, rattling the handle, trying to force it open.

“I have a gun,” she shouted as a warning. “And I’m not afraid to shoot.”

Silence.

Was he still there? Her heart was in her mouth as the seconds ticked by.

Then he began to kick the door, sending her dresser skipping forward a little each time. She raised her gun, aimed it at the door, closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger. Her bullet went right through the door, leaving a perfectly circular hole.

The kicking ceased. Had she hit him? Was he injured or worse? She repositioned the dresser securely against the door and waited. Shadow seemed to understand the danger and had hidden himself away beneath the bed.

The sound of a siren wafted in the distance. Kitty dropped to her knees with a groan of thanks. Immediately, she heard her attacker’s footsteps pounding down the staircase, scurrying away. As the siren grew louder, she gained enough confidence to heave the bed, then the dresser away, from the door and squeeze through the gap. From the top of the stairs, she saw the front door off its hinges lying on the hallway floor, pounded into pieces.

As she stared at the open doorway, it filled with Ryan’s figure, gun in hand, concern etched on his face.

“He’s gone,” she said.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, biting the inside of her lip and blinking fast. She wasn’t okay and it didn’t take Ryan long to work that out. He holstered his gun, raced up the stairs and enveloped her in a hug, telling her she was safe, that everything was fine.

That kindness prompted the tears to really flow.

* * *

Ryan helped Buzz lift the new door from the delivery truck. The door Ryan had selected was strong and robust, much more secure than the old one and likely to withstand a barrage of bullets and kicks without giving way. Shane was inside the house, collecting the bullet casings for analysis, and Ryan desperately hoped that ballistics might give them a lead because his search of the area had yielded little more than some muddy footprints leading to the forest.

Buzz eyed the old door, in pieces on the deck. “What happened here?”

“Somebody tried to get in to the house,” he said. “To hurt Kitty.”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, she’s fine for now.”

Buzz pushed his baseball cap farther back on his head. “When I took your order over the phone, I had to tell my granddad I was delivering to someplace else.”

“Why?”

“He says we’re not to sell to Kitty anymore. He says we don’t want her business.”

“Well, you tell your granddad that this delivery is for me, because I live here now. I just became Kitty’s new tenant.”

Buzz seemed taken aback. “Granddad’s not gonna like that.”

“I kind of guessed he wouldn’t.”

Ryan motioned for Buzz to help him carry the door up the porch steps and onto the deck, where he leaned it against the outside wall.

“I can take it from here,” he said, signing Buzz’s delivery sheet. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem, sir.”

Kitty came out onto the porch, carrying her cat under her arm. “Hey, Buzz,” she said. “Does your granddad know you’re here?”

“No, ma’am,” he replied. “But when Chief Deputy Lawrence called in an emergency order, I just went and found the door you needed from our warehouse and brought it straight on down to you. I’m not really supposed to work this late.”

Buzz puffed up his chest as if proud of himself for defying his grandfather’s rules.

“I appreciate that,” Kitty said with a warm smile. “Not many people around here would put themselves out for me.”

“Maybe,” Buzz said with a shrug. “But if we can’t help a lady in need, then what’s the town coming to?”

Ryan put a hand on Buzz’s shoulder. That comment revealed maturity and a sense of decency in this young man.

“You’re a good kid,” he said, sliding a tip into his top pocket. “It’s a shame that your granddad doesn’t follow your lead.”

Buzz nodded a shy farewell and made his way back to the truck.

“What’s the story with the Price family?” Ryan asked Kitty. “What happened to Buzz’s parents?”

“Buzz’s dad is Tommy Price,” Kitty replied. “Frank and Sheila’s only son. He took off when Buzz was in the first grade, leaving him with his parents.” She looked skyward, appearing to be doing some mental calculation. “I haven’t seen Tommy in about thirteen years now. Frank says he moved to Texas.”

“What about Buzz’s mother? What happened to her?”

“Elena was a girl from out of town, a drifter who sometimes stayed at a commune in the mountains and did casual work around Bethesda. After Buzz was born, she left pretty quick, giving Tommy parental responsibility. She never came back. It was a sad situation. I remember my mom offering to help out, but the Price family is proud. They didn’t want anybody prying into their business.”

“Well, I gotta say that someone’s instilled good principles into that kid,” Ryan said. “He’s nothing like his grandfather.”

“I think Frank’s wife, Sheila, is the one to thank for Buzz’s character. She’s like a mom to him, but they’re both bullied by Frank. He’s a strong personality.”

“He sure is,” Ryan said. “He came marching into the station in a fit of temper this morning.”

Kitty groaned, placing Shadow on the ground and leaning against the wall. “Let me guess—it was in response to my newspaper article.”

“You’ve got it.”

“Well, they needn’t worry,” she said. “That’ll be the last one I write for the Comanche Times about my father.”

Ryan was incredibly relieved. Perhaps Frank and Carla would be appeased by this news.

“Listen,” he began, watching a swift swooping over the lake. “You’ve made some enemies in town by investigating a murder that’s already been solved.”

“It’s not been solved,” she said. “Because the wrong man is in prison.”

He concentrated on tracking the swift, its undulating flight mesmerizing and calming. He would have to tread carefully with Kitty, not allowing his frustration to cause friction between them. But there were things she needed to hear.

“Kitty,” he said, in what he hoped was a gentle, nonpatronizing tone. “Your dad had a lawyer who already did this kind of work for him. There was a police investigation and a full jury trial. If your father’s lawyer couldn’t generate reasonable doubt, what makes you so sure that you stand a better chance?”

“The court-appointed lawyer was useless,” she replied, remembering how disappointed she had felt upon first meeting him. “He kept trying to persuade Dad to plead guilty and take a deal. He never believed in his innocence.”

Ryan couldn’t help but agree with the lawyer. “Taking a deal would probably have been a smart move.”

“I know that you’re not on my side in this,” she said with obvious derision. “But I wish you’d keep your opinions to yourself. I don’t need the negativity.” She rubbed her temples. “This is hard enough already.”

How hard did she think it was for the family of a murder victim? Kitty had no idea of the pain and suffering he had gone through, knowing his sister’s last moments were likely filled with pain and fear. Just like the family of Molly Thomas, Ryan’s family was also serving a life sentence, forever changed by that single devastating event. By denying that justice had been served for the Thomas family, Kitty was condemning Molly’s parents to relive the murder over and over. It simply wasn’t fair.

“I just want you to think about what you’re doing,” he said. “You’re a young woman with your whole life ahead of you, and I don’t want to see you waste it on a pointless fight.”

She folded her arms across her chest and crinkled her brow. The Band-Aid on her forehead was beginning to peel at the edges and he resisted the urge to smooth it down with his thumbs.

“I’m not wasting my life,” she said defensively. “I’m standing up for the truth, and even if it takes me fifty years, I will prove that my father didn’t kill Molly.”

Kitty’s bullheadedness was maddening and Ryan felt he was fighting a losing battle. “Your investigation is putting you in danger,” he said.

“I know that,” she snapped. “Molly’s real killer wants to eliminate me.”

Ryan wondered if they might both be right. Kitty’s attacker had clearly shown his willingness to kill. This went beyond someone just venting anger or aggravation at her—the man wanted her dead. Maybe he really was afraid that she’d uncover evidence against him. Not that Ryan thought Harry Linklater was innocent, but perhaps Harry had killed Molly with the help of an accomplice. That would certainly give someone a very big incentive to stop Kitty’s investigation. Was Harry protecting the identity of a possible partner in crime? And was this person now determined to hide his involvement in the murder? It was a plausible line of inquiry, but Ryan knew he could never voice this theory to Kitty. She wouldn’t accept any explanation that didn’t fully clear her father.

“Whatever the motives of your attacker,” he said, diplomatically, “you’re in grave danger, so surely it makes sense to ease off the investigation until we catch this guy.”

“No!” Did he just see a little stamp of her foot? “I’ll be going to see Harvey from the Starlight Bar tomorrow to question him about his witness testimony. I want to know why he lied. Every time I’ve tried to talk to him, he’s shut me out, but I intend to make sure he acknowledges me this time.”

“You can’t harass someone like that,” Ryan said in exasperation. “If Harvey doesn’t want to speak with you, then you should leave him alone.”

“For a law enforcement officer, you sure are closed-minded.”

That comment stung. “I am not closed-minded,” he said. “I’m able to see this situation from an impartial perspective.”

“No, you’re not,” she retorted. “How can you be impartial when your sister was murdered just like Molly was? That fact will always affect your judgment.”

He fell silent and Kitty did the same, a look of horror creeping across her face.

“I’m really sorry, Ryan,” she said quietly. “I should never have brought up your sister, but I feel so strongly about my father’s situation.”

He was deeply disappointed that she had referenced his sister in the same sentence as her father. The names Gina Lawrence and Harry Linklater should never be placed side by side. One was an amazing girl cut down in childhood, and the other a convicted killer who should remain forever in a prison cell.

“We might need to learn to set some boundaries, huh?” Kitty said awkwardly. “Because we’ll never see eye to eye on this.”

“Right now, I’m more concerned with fixing this entrance and making you nice and secure,” he said, heaving the door across the deck and into place. “I’ll get on with this before I get an official statement from you. So in the meantime why don’t you think about what happened today and jot down any details you can remember? We should build a profile of the guy and try to come up with a list of suspects.”

“Sure, I’ll leave you to it.”

Ryan opened his toolbox and lifted out a screwdriver. He clenched the handle in his fingers, gripping tightly and letting the resentment flow out. Kitty had no clue how to set boundaries. She was incapable of seeing the truth, determined to win this battle at all costs, even her own life.

That short conversation had revealed a deep division between them, an insurmountable barrier that he had no idea how to bridge. Living here was going to be not only dangerous, but fraught with emotional difficulty.