Читать книгу Case File: Canyon Creek, Wyoming - Paula Graves - Страница 10

The buzz of urgent conversation surrounding her seemed to fade around Hannah as she took in Sheriff Tanner’s quiet announcement.

Her attacker had tried to kill her. Again.

It had to be the same guy, right? It wasn’t likely two different people would go after a nobody tourist like her. But why? She hadn’t even seen him, really. She could remember almost nothing about him. Why did he consider her a threat?

She looked around for Riley Patterson, the closest thing to a familiar face in the room. His ice-blue eyes met hers, his expression grim but somehow comforting. He crouched beside her again, one hand resting on her forearm. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly, forcing her chin up. “I just want to know how he could get to me so easily.”

“So do we,” Sheriff Tanner assured her. “I’ve sent a man to check with hospital security. But I don’t have much hope. This is a small hospital, and Jackson Hole’s a pretty laid-back place. There’s not much security in place here.”

“He thinks he’s invincible,” Riley said softly. “He’s gotten away with everything so far.”

“Joe tells me you two think this attack is connected to other murders in the state,” Sheriff Tanner said.

Riley glanced at Hannah. She could tell he didn’t want to talk about this in front of her. He hadn’t given her many details about the other cases he’d been investigating, though what he’d told her had been horrifying enough.

“I’ve made file folders full of notes,” he told Sheriff Tanner. “I don’t mind sharing. The more people looking for this guy, the better.”

The Teton County sheriff studied Riley, his eyes narrowed, then turned his gaze to the lanky, dark-haired man Riley had introduced as his boss, Joe Garrison. “You vouch for this, Garrison?”

Joe nodded. “Riley’s right. This guy has struck before, and he’ll do it again if we don’t stop him.”

Sheriff Tanner didn’t look happy to hear Joe’s affirmation. “Okay, send me copies of your notes, and I’ll put a detective on it. See if we can’t tie it to any open cases we’re working on.”

“Cold cases, too. I’ve only been keeping notes since three years ago, but I think it could go back further,” Riley said.

“Why three years ago?” Hannah asked.

Joe and Sheriff Tanner both turned to look at Riley, but Riley kept his eyes on Hannah, his expression mask-like.

When he didn’t answer, she rephrased the question. “You said you’ve been keeping notes for only three years. What happened to make you start?”

Riley held her gaze a long moment, then looked down at his hands. He flexed his left hand, the ring on the third finger glinting as it caught the light. He spoke in a soft, raspy voice. “Three years ago, the son of a bitch murdered my wife.”

Riley’s words felt like a punch to Hannah’s gut. No wonder he seemed personally involved in this case. “I’m sorry.”

He acknowledged her condolences with a short nod, his mouth tightening. “I want this guy caught even more than you do,” he added softly, as if the words were meant for her ears alone.

She swallowed hard, remembering how just a little while ago, she wanted nothing more than to catch the next plane home to Alabama. A part of her still did.

She’d done a lot of running home over the last four years.

But knowing what she now knew, could she really run away? She was possibly the only living witness who could identify a cold-blooded murderer.

A murderer who’d killed Riley Patterson’s wife.

“Excuse me?”

Hannah turned at the sound of a new voice. The doctor who’d treated her in the Emergency Room when she arrived at the hospital stood nearby, his expression concerned.

“I’d like to check on my patient,” he said firmly.

Riley stepped between the doctor and Hannah. “Mind if I see your ID?”

The look on the doctor’s face almost made Hannah laugh. “Mind if I see yours?”

Riley had his badge out before the request was finished. The doctor’s mouth quirked. Once he’d studied Riley’s credentials, he held out his name tag for Riley’s inspection. “James Andretti,” he said aloud. “I’ve been working here for ten years. Ask anyone.”

“He treated me in the E.R.” Hannah touched Riley’s arm. He retreated, though he didn’t look happy about it.

“I’d like to check on my patient,” Dr. Andretti repeated, giving Riley a pointed look. “Can you clear the room?”

“It’s a crime scene,” Riley said.

“It’s also a hospital room.”

Sheriff Tanner stepped in. “The techs have processed the areas around the bed. We’ll step out a few minutes and let the doctor do his business. When he’s done, I’ll be back in to talk to you, Ms. Cooper.”

Hannah gave a nod, darting a look at Riley. She found his gaze on her, his expression impossible to read. But when the other police personnel left her room, he followed, leaving her alone with the doctor.

Dr. Andretti pulled out his stethoscope and bent to listen to Hannah’s heart through her hospital gown. “Heart rate’s a little elevated, but I guess that’s to be expected. How’s your head feeling?”

“Better, actually,” Hannah admitted. The headache that had plagued her earlier in the evening had faded to nothing.

He had her follow his fingers as he moved them in front of her face. “No double vision, no more memory lapses?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Looks like we’ll spring you in the morning. But I think we should move you to another room so you can get some rest.”

“Do I really need to be here at all?” she asked.

“That’s how we usually handle a concussion.”

“But I’m not symptomatic anymore, right? You only kept me for observation and you just said I’m doing fine.”

The doctor shot her a questioning look.

“Somebody’s already gotten to me here tonight. I’m not that comfortable hanging around to let them have another shot.”

“I can have a security guard posted at your door.”

“You don’t know one of your guards isn’t behind this. Or even another doctor or nurse,” she pointed out.

Dr. Andretti bristled visibly. “That’s not likely.”

Hannah sighed. “Maybe not. I just want to get out of here. I don’t have to have your permission to check out, do I?”

“No—”

“Then arrange it. Please.”

“What are you going to do when you leave? It’s four in the morning. No motels worth staying in are going to let you check in at this hour. Assuming you can even find a room available.”

“I just want out of here.” A tingle of panic was beginning to build in the center of her chest. The thought of staying in this room until the next day was unbearable.

“Why don’t I go get the nice police officers to tell you why leaving right now would be a very big mistake?” Dr. Andretti suggested, making a final note in her chart and tucking it under his arm. “You stay put.”

He left her alone in the hospital room, which now looked like a war zone, thanks to the handiwork of the evidence technicians. She tucked her knees up to her chin and closed her eyes, feeling as tired as she could ever remember. But she couldn’t afford to fall asleep.

Not in this place, surrounded by people she didn’t know and couldn’t trust.

“SIX MURDERS DON’T SEEM like much over three years,” Jim Tanner said, passing Riley a cup of lukewarm coffee from the half-empty carafe on the break-room hotplate. “I thought serial murderers tend to escalate, but this guy’s pretty steady at two a year.”

“Well, Hannah would have been three this year.” Riley grimaced at the taste of the stale coffee.

“So he’s escalating…slowly?” Tanner looked skeptical.

“There may be others. These are the ones I’ve been able to glean from relatively public sources.”

“You’d think the feds would be all over this.”

“Some of the links are nebulous,” Joe said, refusing Tanner’s offer of coffee. “We’ve only linked three of the murders to pepper-spray attacks. Two years ago there were two instances, and one last year. And what happened to Hannah.”

“All six of the murder victims were wrapped in plastic sheeting and dumped in bodies of water,” Riley pointed out. “All six were killed by ligature strangulation.”

“That’s not an unusual mode of murder. Same ligature used each time?”

“No,” Riley admitted. “I think he uses weapons of opportunity.”

“Victims of opportunity, weapons of opportunity—” Tanner shook his head. “Yeah, I could see the FBI needing more.”

Riley glanced at Joe. Did his old friend secretly agree with Jim Tanner and the FBI about the scarcity of connections between the cases? Was he simply humoring Riley out of loyalty?

Tanner put his cup down on the Formica counter. “You know what? You clearly believe the cases are linked, and I’m not one to blow off a fellow cop who’s having a hunch. I’ll put one of my guys on the cold cases in our jurisdiction, see if any of them match any of your criteria. Maybe it’ll help flesh out the body of evidence. You never know.”

Riley gave the Teton County chief a grateful half smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Sheriff Tanner?”

Riley turned and saw Hannah’s doctor approaching, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Can I help you?” Tanner asked.

“Ms. Cooper is asking to leave the hospital early. Now, in fact. She feels uncomfortable remaining here.”

Riley’s stomach tightened. “Did you leave her alone?”

“I posted a guard outside, but—”

Riley didn’t wait for the rest of his sentence, pushing past Joe and heading back to Hannah’s room. He didn’t see a guard outside her door, or any other door lining the corridor.

His heart rate climbing, Riley pushed open the door to Hannah’s room and almost bumped into the guard standing just inside. He was a slim man in his early twenties, with crow-black hair and sun-bronzed skin. He was laughing as he turned to look at Riley.

Riley pushed past him, putting himself firmly between the guard and Hannah. “Are you okay?” he asked her, keeping his eyes on the guard, whose brow furrowed at Riley’s question.

“I’m fine. Charlie was just introducing himself, since he was going to be my babysitter.” Humor and annoyance tinted Hannah’s whiskey drawl. “I was just telling him I’m thinking of digging a tunnel out.”

Riley arched an eyebrow at the guard. “Shouldn’t you be frisking me or something? Checking my ID?”

Charlie looked suitably crestfallen.

“He’s messing with you,” Hannah said. “Riley, leave him alone.”

“Go stand guard outside and don’t let anyone in without checking ID,” Riley told the younger man, his tone firm. Charlie quickly obeyed.

Riley turned to look at Hannah, who still sat in the chair by the window. Her knees were tucked up against her chest, her chin resting atop them as she gazed at him with sleepy green eyes. He felt a funny twisting sensation in his gut. “You look wiped out.”

“Always with the compliments,” she said around a yawn.

“Your doctor says you want out of here.”

“Ya think?”

He managed a smile at the crack. “There won’t be any flights out before 8:00 a.m. What do you plan to do, camp out in the airport where you don’t know a soul?”

“I’m camped out in a hospital where I don’t know a soul. At least at the airport I wouldn’t be wearing a cotton smock with an open back.”

There was a quiet knock on the hospital-room door, and a moment later, Joe Garrison and Jim Tanner entered, followed by one of the Teton County evidence technicians holding a notebook computer.

“Trammell here has a copy of the only security-camera footage available,” Tanner said, motioning for Trammell to set up the notebook computer on the over-bed table at the foot of the hospital bed. “I want you to watch and see if anyone looks familiar.”

“I didn’t get a good look at him either time.”

“You can at least eliminate people by body type. It can’t hurt.”

Riley and Joe gathered around the computer as Trammell hit play. Riley felt a prickle of warmth down the left side of his body and turned to find Hannah sitting closer to him, like a kitten curling up next to a heat source. The mental image amused him.

He reached behind her to grab the blanket wadded near the foot of the bed and caught a glimpse of golden skin peeking out the back of her hospital gown.

She smiled her appreciation when he tucked the blanket around her, then turned back to the computer. “What are we looking at?” she asked Trammell.

“This is the front entrance.” Trammell pointed to a pair of glass doors center frame. “We asked for everything from about an hour before you arrived to the time you called the nurse’s station around 1:00 a.m.” He pointed to another button. “Click that button and it’ll fast-forward the images. Click that one and it’ll pause the image.”

It was easy to fast-forward the video; about half the visitors could be eliminated by their sex, others by age or build. Hannah stopped the video three times, but each time she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Riley frowned, something on the video catching his eye. “The hell?” He reached across and hit the pause button, then touched another to reverse the video.

“What is it?” Hannah asked.

“I’m not sure—” He saw the flicker again and hit pause.

“Oh,” Hannah said, her voice tinted with surprise.

On the screen, the tip of one dark boot was visible just past the edge of the mottled carpet in front of the lobby door.

“Well, hell.” Tanner grimaced at the screen.

“Someone tampered with the recording.” Riley looked at Joe, whose blue eyes had darkened.

“Son of a bitch,” Jim Tanner growled.

“How did he manage that?” Hannah asked.

Riley laid his hand on her shoulder. She gave a little trembling jerk, turning her head to look up at him. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and felt her relax under his touch.

Tanner released a deep sigh and turned to look at them. “Inside job?”

Joe nodded. “Probably. It’s where I’d start looking for sure.”

“But why would someone who worked here want to hide his image? It’s not like it would raise an alarm,” Hannah said.

“Unless they tampered with the image to throw us off,” Riley countered. As convoluted as that possibility sounded, he wouldn’t put it past their target to be just that devious.

“I’ll get a list of all the personnel, then. Security, medical staff, sanitation, the whole lot.” Tanner clapped his technician on the shoulder. “Trammel, I want the original footage sent to the crime lab in Cheyenne. See if those fellows can get anything out of it.”

Trammell nodded, grabbed his computer and left.

Tanner looked at Hannah. “I think you’re right, Ms. Cooper. It’s not a good idea for you to stay here tonight. I can set you up in protective custody here in Jackson—”

Hannah turned and looked at Riley. “You said I’m the only one who ever got away.”

“That we know of,” Riley agreed.

“I’m the only one who’s seen him.” Her voice softened even more. She moved away from them, toward the window, her arms wrapped around her as if she felt a sudden chill. The movement spread the back of her hospital gown even wider, baring more of the golden skin on her back and the sweet curve of her bottom beneath the cotton of her pale-blue panties.

Riley felt a flutter low in his belly and clamped his teeth together, surprised by his body’s traitorous response. He cleared his throat and glanced at Joe and Jim Tanner. Both men were looking at him rather than Hannah’s pretty backside, which made him feel like even more of a slug.

“Have you talked to her doctor?” Joe asked Tanner in a faint murmur. “What are the chances of her getting back more memories of the attack?”

“Nobody knows,” Tanner admitted. “Head injuries are unpredictable. She might never remember anything more than she’s told us.”

“There might not be anything more to remember,” Joe said grimly. “I hoped when we learned there was a living witness—”

“We know a lot more than we did,” Riley pointed out, glancing at Hannah again. She’d turned and was watching them whisper among themselves, her eyes slightly narrowed.

“I’m still here in the room,” she said aloud, making the other men look at her as well. “Since I’m pretty sure you’re talking about me, why don’t y’all tell me what’s on your minds?”

Riley walked toward her slowly. “We were discussing what you do and don’t remember about the attack.”

“Not much,” she admitted, her voice apologetic. “I’d hoped that I’d remember more once the symptoms of the concussion passed, but I come back to the same thing. I didn’t get a good look at him when he pulled me over. I remember jeans and a silver belt buckle. He seemed fit—muscular, or at least that’s the impression I got before he sprayed me in the face with pepper spray. It happened so fast.”

Riley touched her shoulder again. “You told us he posed as a cop. That’s something we didn’t know before, and I think it could be important.” If nothing else, it suggested the man might have some law-enforcement experience, or at least more understanding of police work than the average citizen.

“What if it’s not enough?” Hannah asked. “What if I fly out of here tomorrow and nothing changes? What if he goes on killing people?”

Riley frowned, not following. “We keep looking for him anyway.”

She looked up at him suddenly, her green eyes bright with an emotion he couldn’t identify. “I’m the only living witness. If I leave—”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but Riley finally understood what she was getting at. “If you leave, it could hamper the investigation,” he admitted aloud.

Her head lowered, her back slumping as if it suddenly bore a terrible weight. Riley felt a rush of pity for her, for he had some idea of what she was feeling. It was a horrible thing, carrying the burden of six unsolved murders, knowing that it fell on you to bring them justice and closure.

“I can’t leave Wyoming, can I?” she asked softly.

He didn’t answer, knowing it was a question she had to answer herself.

Her tongue ran lightly over her lips and he saw her throat bob as she swallowed. When she looked up at him again, her gaze was solemn but direct. “I have five more days left of my vacation. I can’t stay forever, but I can give you those five days. Maybe it’ll be enough.”

“We can put you in protective custody,” Jim Tanner offered.

“She needs to go somewhere the killer doesn’t expect her to be.” Riley glanced at Joe.

“Somewhere small and off the beaten path?” Joe asked, his voice faintly dry.

Riley shrugged and turned back to Hannah. “Canyon Creek is about an hour and a half from here, in ranching country. I have a place there. Plenty of room. Great view.”

Hannah’s brow creased. “You want me to stay alone with you? I don’t even know you.”

“You don’t have to know me. You just have to trust me.”

The room fell silent as Hannah considered his words. The walls seemed to close in around them, every molecule, every atom focused on her words.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted her answer to be, now that he’d made the offer. He’d lived alone for three years, his home both a refuge and a prison since Emily’s death. He’d found a certain familiar comfort in his loneliness, Emily’s absence so powerful it became a tangible thing he could hold on to when the nights were dark and long. He hadn’t let anyone intrude on his solitude in a long time.

Hannah would change that. How could she not?

Hannah released a long, deep breath and looked up at them. “Okay.”

Riley felt as if the ground was crumbling beneath his feet.

“Let’s do it,” she said, her chin high. “Let’s go to Canyon Creek.”