A Silent Fury (18 page)

Crossing the room, he stopped in front of the woman. “Did Alan know that you were filing for divorce?”

J
oseph watched a number of expressions cross Mrs. Dillard's face. Fear, anger, resignation. She finally sighed and looked at the ceiling. “No, but I suppose you'll be talking to him about that when he comes out of surgery.”

“Is there some reason you're waiting to let him in on your plan? The papers the crime-scene unit found were hidden pretty well and are dated three months ago.”

“I…wanted to make sure I was making the right decision. Alan had threatened to take my son away if I ever left him. I had to make sure I was up for the fight.” She gave an odd little smile. “But I guess today sort of clinched the deal. I can finally be free of his bullying and abuse, can't I? I can toss those divorce papers in his face. I don't have to worry about him anymore, do I?”

Compassion softened Joseph's face. “No, I guess you don't.” He changed the subject and asked, “Zachary met with someone the day of his sister's funeral, but we can't figure out who that person was. Do you know if it was Alan and if he had a reason to want Zachary dead?”

Stacy shrugged and shifted her eyes to the door that separated her from her husband. “I don't know if they met or not. As far as if Alan had reason to want Zachary dead, it's possible. If Zachary found out about Alan's propensity for young high
school girls, I'd say Alan would have some motive, wouldn't you?”

“Definitely. But did Zachary know?”

She leveled her gaze on him. “He knew. Zachary's been like a son, a troubled son, to me. He was angry with Alan for cheating on me. Zachary's the one who told me about Tracy.”

“And you confronted Alan about this?”

“I did.”

“What did he say?” Catelyn asked.

“Gave me a black eye and told me I had a good life. He said if I didn't want to lose it, I'd better be real careful about what I said and who I said it to.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I kept my mouth shut and made divorce arrangements.” Stacy used shaky fingers to pick at nonexistent lint on her faded blue jeans. “And I was working on a way to…get away from him. Forever.”

“Then chickened out at the last minute?” Joseph pushed.

“No…” She paused. “Like I said, I just needed time.”

“With your…friend?” There was no condemnation in his voice, but the woman still flinched.

“My
friend
—” she stressed the word “—is part of an underground organization that helps women and children get out of abusive situations. That's who Zachary saw me meeting with and interpreted it a different way. I couldn't tell him otherwise.”

He stood. She was lying, but he wasn't sure why. It would take some digging to find out. “All right, Mrs. Dillard. Thanks for your cooperation. Let us know if there's anything we can do for you. It's a hard road you have ahead of you.”

“Thank you.”

 

Joseph and Catelyn moved to a separate area of the waiting room to continue to wait to hear about Alan and Kelly.
However, it looked like their timing might be just about perfect. According to the nurse, Zachary was showing very real signs of waking, so they decided to hang out and see if he came around enough to be able to tell them who shot him.

Catelyn said, “I guess since they're not taking the ventilator out until tomorrow, we could leave and come back.”

“We could, but if he's responsive, we could at least get some yes or no answers to a few questions.”

“True. He can also fingerspell anything he has to tell us.”

“Right. I'm hoping he gives us a name.”

She sat next to him and studied Alan's wife. She looked…hard. And worn down, sad and mad all at the same time. Like life had dealt her one blow too many.

The woman looked over at them and frowned, glanced at her watch, rose and headed for the exit. Probably had to pick up her son or something. Watching her leave, Catelyn asked Joseph, “Do you believe her?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know. She seems awfully eager to give up her husband.” Catelyn chewed the thought.

Joseph pursed his lips. “He's done some pretty bad stuff to her. What about a woman scorned and all that?”

“Maybe.”

“Why, you think she's lying?”

“I don't know. We've been lied to so much lately that I don't know that I'd recognize the truth if it bit me.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

She looked at him. “Where was Alan during visitation for Tracy? Do you remember?”

“No, I just remember talking to his wife while standing in line. I never got to see who was sitting where. But I do remember she was looking for him. I wonder where she found him—
if
she found him?”

“We can ask her when she gets back.” He moved closer to her and placed a hand over hers.

She jerked and looked at him. What was he doing?

“Catie, we need to talk.”

Emotions swept over her at the tone in his voice. “No, we don't.” Anger flooded her as she remembered him moving in front of her when they didn't know who was coming through the door of the gym. “You made yourself clear what you thought about me as a cop. Nothing more needs to be said. We're going to finish this case then go our separate ways. There. We talked.”

“Okay, maybe I deserve that. But…”

“You say you have no problem with me being a cop yet you think I need protecting out there? Hello? It doesn't work that way. You have to have confidence in me.”

“I know and I do.”

“Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it! You stepped in front of me, Joseph. What does that say to you? It says tons to me.”

Hard hands gripped her shoulders. “It says I care about you. It says I want to protect the woman I love.”

Stunned, she couldn't react at first. He moved back a little, giving her some space. She couldn't believe he just said that. She remembered her father's definition of protection. He'd gotten so bad he hadn't wanted her mother to even leave the house. “I don't want that kind of love.”

Joseph flinched and she realized she'd spoken her thoughts out loud. But he persisted. “Catie, you've got to understand. It wouldn't matter if you were a schoolteacher, I'd still want to protect you from some things. It's the way I'm wired. It's the way God made me. I won't apologize for it. If you'd been any other female cop in that hall with me, I never would've stepped in front of you. But…it was you.”

“Which just clarifies why we aren't right for each other.”

“No,” he said. “No, it just means we can't
work
together. Sure, I might worry about you out working a case like any husband would, but that's normal. Can't you see that?”

She shook her head. “No, I really can't. All I can see are the fights, hear the yelling, the accusations, the harsh words. I don't know what normal is.”

“Yes, you do. You've practically grown up in my parents' house. How can you say you don't know what normal is?”

Her mouth worked and nothing came out. Flashes of his parents, their disagreements handled in a totally different manner, their laughing, teasing one another, the support for each other in everything they did.

So opposite of everything her parents had stood for.

Could she possibly hope to be the kind of wife he wanted? Deserved? “But you want a wife who'll stay home, have dinner on the table every night, etcetera. I just can't promise that I can do that.”

Her phone rang and Joseph leaned back with a groan. Snapping her attention to the phone, she answered the call, listened for a moment then hung up. She looked up at Joseph and forced herself to see the man as only her partner right now. Told herself to ignore the longing she still saw in his gaze. Finally he cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“CSU found the gun they think was used to shoot Zachary.”

“Found it in Alan's house is my guess.”

“Right.”

“Well, I suppose that answers that question. Alan Dillard shot Zachary.”

“Excuse me, officers?”

They both looked up at the nurse. She said, “Zachary is awake. His parents said that you could come in and see him if you'd like.”

W
hen they entered the room, Zachary looked rough. Various tubes extended from him and monitors clicked and beeped. But at least his eyes were open. They widened when he spotted them. His heart rate picked up and Joseph said, “We're sure glad you're awake.”

The boy lifted a weak hand to sign, “Yes.”

“We're also hoping you can tell us who shot you. Do you know who?”

“Maybe.”

Catelyn stepped forward, intensity radiating from her. “Can you spell his name.”

His fingers moved, slowly, but with clarity. H-E-R.

“Her?” Catelyn glanced at Joseph and frowned. Then went wide with understanding. “It was a woman?”

Another signed yes.

“It wasn't Alan Dillard?”

“No.” His fingers moved as in slow motion.

“Who? Do you know who?”

His eyes shut and his mother moved in to touch his hand. “Zachary, please, honey. Try to stay awake. Tell them who did this to you.”

Zachary's lids fluttered. Closed, then opened once more.

Joseph pressed, “Who was it, Zachary?”

Fingers slowly formed the individual letters to spell: D-I-L-L-A-R-D.

Joseph blinked. Maybe the kid had been confused when he spelled H-E-R. “Alan Dillard? He's in surgery as we speak.”

Zachary's eyes drooped, then closed. Joseph patted the kid's hand, but he was back out cold.

Joseph looked at Catelyn. “Let's see if Mrs. Dillard is back in the waiting room and ask her a few questions.”

Catelyn shook her head. “He specifically spelled H-E-R. What if Stacy heard Zachary was waking up? What if she wasn't here to see her husband, what if she was waiting to finish the job?”

“I don't know. What reason would she have to want Zachary dead?” He addressed the question to Zachary's parents.

Both looked shocked at the recent developments and Mrs. Merritt said, “I don't know. I know my children were mixed up in that gang. I…didn't want to admit it at first, but I can't really deny it at this point.” She looked down at her son. “I guess my husband and I've been so focused on our careers, we lost sight of what we were working so hard for…our family.”

Joseph felt a pang of sympathy for the woman. Her husband ran a hand down the side of his face and grunted. “Well, we've got a second chance with Zachary and Justin. As soon as we can, we're going to have a family meeting and get some things straightened out.” He frowned and glanced at the door. “I have a hard time believing Stacy Dillard shot my son. She's been nothing but kind and caring toward him.”

“Your son is the one who told her that her husband was having an affair with a fellow student.”

“What? Zachary wouldn't do that. He worshipped the ground Alan Dillard walked on—and he didn't care much for Stacy. He said Alan deserved a better wife than her. If the man
was having an affair and Zachary learned of it, there's no way he would have said anything to her, not out of concern for her feelings, but because of Alan.”

“You know, I felt Stacy was lying to us at the hospital. She's the one that pulled the trigger.”

Calling for a car to go by the Dillard house and see if Mrs. Dillard went home and orders to pick her up if she did, Joseph then asked Catelyn, “Are you ready to track this woman down?”

“Absolutely.”

They left with promises to call as soon as they knew anything and Mr. and Mrs. Merritt agreed to get as much information out of Zachary as soon as he woke up again.

Joseph watched Catelyn exit the door ahead of him and knew his time with her was running short. They needed to get this case solved so they could get back to resolving the situation between them once and for all.
Lord, help us please?

 

The drive to the Dillard house was silent. The woman hadn't been in the waiting room when they'd returned to the area. A call from the cruiser sent to check her house confirmed the woman wasn't there. either.

“Her son,” Catelyn blurted.

“What?”

“If she's going to make a run for it, she'd probably grab her kid first.”
At least that's what I'd do.
But what kind of mother was Stacy Dillard? She had a feeling the woman's child was everything to her. “She said her mother had her son. We need to find out who her mother is and where she lives.”

Joseph got on the radio and started the process to find out the information they needed. A call to the child's elementary school principal found him at home on this Sunday afternoon. He instantly provided the woman's name.

Cheryl Frazier.

Within minutes, Joseph had the address and, with siren wailing, headed in the direction that would take them to the west side of town. He also had back-up units on the way.

Catelyn watched the scenery whiz by. A middle-class neighborhood came in to view. She shut the siren off and Joseph wheeled in. They found the house without incident. She just prayed Stacy and her son were still here. They pulled up to the curb and quickly assessed the scene before them.

“Looks quiet,” Catelyn observed.

“Looks can be deceiving,” he answered, scanning the front of the well-maintained home. “Be ready for anything. This woman shot a teenager.”

“I wonder what he did that had her pulling that trigger. Somehow I don't buy the story she fed us at the hospital. And yet, she was in front of us in the line at the funeral.” Confusion crimped her. “I just don't see how she would have had time to get up to the balcony, get her gun ready and shoot Zachary.”

“She left to find her husband.”

“Then came back to talk to the people in front of us, remember?”

“Yes, I do. So, maybe Zachary didn't run because of our presence, he saw her and took off.”

She shrugged and unclipped her shoulder holster. “It's a theory, but I still don't see how she made it up to the balcony in time to shoot him. And how would she know he was going to run out of the mortuary?”

He pulled out his phone. “I don't know. All good questions. Let's see if anyone answers the number here so we can get those questions answered.”

Dialing the number, he waited. Two more cruisers pulled in next to the curb, their sirens silenced, not wanting to further upset an already possibly frantic woman.

Joseph slipped the phone back into his pocket. “No one's answering.”

“You want to do the honors?” she asked, motioning to the door. Joseph stepped up on the porch and knocked.

The window next to him exploded in a crash of flying glass. He ducked out of the way, to the side, the glass missing him by millimeters. “Hey! Police! Freeze!”

Another gunshot sounded. Then a small voice, “Mommy! Mommy!”

Catelyn spun herself up against the side of the house away from the broken window, heart pounding. “Joseph, are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. We've got to get that gun away from whoever's in there.”

“I don't want to start shooting back, there's a kid in there.”

“Absolutely.” Gun held pointing up, he yelled, “Mrs. Dillard, I need you to throw your weapon out.”

“No!” A trembling voice came from inside. It sounded close to the window, to Catelyn's left and they could hear her clearly. “Mrs. Dillard, is that you?”

“No, it's Cheryl Frazier, Stacy's mother, and you need to leave now.”

Catelyn shot a look at Joseph and mouthed. “The mother?”

He shrugged. “Zachary was pretty out of it. Maybe he was trying to spell Mrs. Dillard's mother. Who knows?”

Right now it didn't matter. At least Mrs. Frazier was talking. Always a good sign. If she was talking, she wasn't hurting anyone. “Where's your daughter and grandson?”

“In here with me. They're safe. My poor Stacy…she's just not in her right mind right now. She's had too much put on her with everything. We're taking Alan Jr. and we're leaving, do you understand? We've worked so hard…” A muffled sob broke through.

Catelyn spoke up. “Ma'am, you know we can't let you do that.”

“Then I'll…I'll…I don't know what I'll do, but…something.”

They needed a hostage negotiator. Catelyn shifted and licked her lips. “Your grandson's listening to you, isn't he?”

Shifting, a scrape. Catelyn tensed, felt the butt of her gun against her palm. She really didn't want to shoot anyone, especially not Alan Jr.'s grandmother.

“Yes.”

“You don't want to scare him, do you?”

Sniffling, a moment of weeping. “It wasn't supposed to be like this.”

Looking around, she spotted the two uniformed officers who'd arrived at the home just minutes after she and Joseph pulled in.

And Ethan O'Hara.

She gave a small wave to the man who was her usual partner and was Joseph's brother-in-law.

Ethan waved back and motioned to Joseph he'd help cover him. Joseph looked surprised to see Ethan, but nodded for her to keep talking. He was going around the back of the house. He held up two fingers.

She nodded, two taps on his radio would mean he was inside. She'd continue talking to Cheryl Frazier and pray she could remember everything she'd ever learned about hostage negotiations until a trained negotiator arrived.

“How was it supposed to be, Cheryl?” She used the woman's first name, hoping it would keep her focused on the conversation and not on whatever Joseph and Ethan were doing around back.

Another sniffle. “I just wanted to get us away.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm so ashamed of my son-in-law, so hurt, so
mad
at him for what he's done to Stacy and Alan Jr. How could he do that to them? To his own son?” Cheryl's fury exploded from her as she spat the words.

Catelyn flinched at the venom in the woman's voice. “I understand. It was a terrible thing he did. A total betrayal of their vows, their trust. And an ugly legacy to leave behind for Alan Jr.” Mention the kid as often as possible. Keep her mind on her grandson—and the fact that he needs her.

“Yes! Yes it was.”

 

Joseph crept up to the back door and tried the handle.

Locked. Of course.

Ethan stayed behind, covering him.

Joseph moved through the shrubbery trying the windows. Finally, the last one on the end lifted. A quick glance inside told him the room was empty. Hoisting himself in, he landed silently on the carpeted floor and looked around. This must be where Alan Jr. slept when he visited. A twin bed with a puppy-dog bedspread sat against one wall with a little white dresser beside it.

“What are Stacy and Alan Jr. going to do if you go to jail, Cheryl? He's already lost his father. What's he going to do if you get arrested or—worse? You said your daughter's not in her right mind. That leaves you to care for the boy. Do you have another family member who can keep Alan Jr.?” he heard Catelyn ask. Her voice carried through the broken window.

Dead silence from the house.

Joseph slid down the hall toward the den where the action was taking place. Where was the kid? The mother?

It was a typical ranch-style house and a quick sweep showed all three bedrooms and hall bathroom to be empty. So that left the kitchen, dining and den areas.

The end of the hall opened up into the den. He could see Stacy sitting on the couch holding a little boy on her lap.

“Mom, put the gun down, please.” The woman had her eyes trained on her mother. Tears stood out on her cheeks and she raised a palm to brush them off.

“Stacy, you just hush. I'm taking care of you, just like I always have.” Her mother never turned from the window.

Joseph stepped inside the den then to the right into the living room so he couldn't be spotted. He needed to get Stacy's attention so he could get her and the boy out of there. Assuming she wouldn't turn him in.

A chance he'd have to take. He waited until she turned her head slightly, then stepped into her peripheral vision. She started and he raised a finger to his lips. Her eyes narrowed, then shot to her mother, who stood staring out the window. Her mouth opened as though to call out and Joseph raised his gun a tad. If the woman turned from the window to shoot at him, he'd have no choice.

Sorrow crossed Stacy's features but she clamped her lips together and didn't give him away.

Instead, she shifted her son and rose with him on her hip. He wrapped his arms around her neck and leaned his head on her shoulder. He looked scared stiff at the upheaval going on.

Cheryl whirled and Joseph jerked back. “Stacy, what are you doing?”

“Going into the kitchen. I need to give Alan Jr. his medicine.”