Cold Case Recruit (16 page)

“Down to his shoes.”

“Down to his shoes,” he confirmed.

“You liked his shoes?” Junior asked.

Brycen grinned into the rearview mirror and drove into the street. “Yeah, I sure did.”

*

Brycen wanted to stakeout the coffee shop but didn’t think Junior would react well to being left again so soon, so he took him and his mother back to his cabin. Junior sat on the floor playing a video game.

“Has he always played so many video games?” he asked Drury. He probably shouldn’t take too much of an interest in the boy. The raw memories meeting Junior exposed had somehow morphed into curiosity. Brycen realized he’d become fascinated by the mind of this young boy, and cared that he grow out of his difficult time.

Drury looked over at her son, her hands busy whipping together one of her kid dinners, early since they’d skipped lunch. “He played before, but...yeah, maybe he has spent more time doing that.”

“It might be a crutch. A way of withdrawing from the world.” A big, bad world a little boy might find too scary to cope with.

“Why don’t you go play with him?” Drury asked. “Do you like video games?”

“I’ve played a few. I’m no
gamer
, though.”

“Go play with him.” She stirred the hamburger and turned the heat down. “It might help him.”

Brycen helping Junior by spending time with him? Something tugged at his heart and soul, something that told him to do it.

“Okay.” He went over to Junior.

“Have you played in dual screens yet?” he asked.

Junior looked up. “What’s dual screens?”

“It’s when two players play at the same time. Want me to show you?”

“Yeah.”

Taking up a controller, Brycen sat on the ottoman in front of the couch. He navigated to show two screens and picked out a Disney Infinity character.

“Mr. Incredible?” Junior laughed a little.

Junior played Randy.

They flew and ran and crashed things until Mr. Incredible fell off the platform and Randy jumped off his.

“Good playing, kid,” Brycen said.

“Let’s play different characters.”

“Okay.”

Brycen went to the sofa. Seeing him do so, Junior got up and sat next to him. Junior leaned back against the sofa cushion, looking over at him. He probably missed times like this with his father. Brycen wasn’t altogether comfortable filling
that
role, and aside from an inexplicable curiosity, he needed Junior to be strong enough to be left with Drury’s parents when they needed to do potentially dangerous things. Staking out the coffee shop qualified as potentially dangerous enough.

He also didn’t want to lead Junior to believe he’d stay. Because when he left—and he’d have to leave when he solved the case—Junior would be heartbroken and his abandonment issues might get worse. Brycen did not need that on his conscience.

He caught Drury’s fond smile as she watched them play while she stirred the Sloppy Joe mixture. Ever since they’d arrived, there had been a real family kind of aura passing around. He let himself enjoy it, but too much might be hard on all of them.

“How come you don’t have any kids?” Junior asked.

“How do you know I don’t have any?”

“You didn’t bring any with you.”

Ah, the simplicity of a young mind. “I can’t bring kids with me while I work. It’s too dangerous.”

Junior mulled over that awhile. “So, how come you don’t have any?”

“I guess I haven’t had the chance to.”

Would he ever have kids? Or welcome a child not his own into his life? Try as he might not to, he couldn’t stop wondering what would happen if he and Drury ended up together.

“I think you’d make a good dad,” Junior said.

Stunned, Brycen could only search Junior’s face for verification. How did a boy so young know such a thing? Had just a man’s attention, doing father-son-related fun, given him that impression?

The innocence portrayed in his upturned face, smooth skin, slightly parted lips and healthy whites of his eyes surrounding blue, arrested Brycen. The sweetness.

Then those lips smiled big and his eyes rounded with happy excitement. “Do you wanna go play catch?”

Unexpectedness punched his chest. Junior both dredged up unpleasant memories and showed him what a wonder being a father could be. The latter held warm meaning for him. But concerned him for the boy’s welfare.

He turned away briefly, and landed on the sight of Drury wiping a tear from her cheek.

Do something.
He had to act. Despite the firestorm going on inside, he had to consider Junior’s development. While his defenses told him to back away, his heart ruled.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing a smile.

Chapter 11

D
rury still couldn’t believe her son had asked Brycen to play catch. She stood at the front window watching them, Brycen talking, instructing, while Junior occasionally caught the ball and mostly dropped it or completely missed the mark. The sun had slipped low in the sky and a chill moved in. That wasn’t why Drury stayed inside. She didn’t want to ruin this pinnacle moment for Junior.

Brycen had made leaping headway with the boy in such a short period of time. As a detective, he must seem like somewhat of a superhero to Junior. That and Brycen’s sensitivity to the boy’s abandonment issue must be the missing ingredients. While she had to push off some tinges of hurt that she—his mother—hadn’t been able to provide this, the signs of improvement had to be celebrated.

Hearing the Sloppy Joe mixture in need of a stir, she returned to the stove. The french fries smelled done, too. She took the fries out and prepared plates for all of them. Then she went to the door and called out, “Dinner’s ready!”

“Aw!” Junior answered.

Brycen started toward the cabin. “Come on. We can play again tomorrow.”

Never mind winter had set in. But of course, Junior had not been raised to pay heed to the weather. As a family they’d had barbecues in February.

She brought the plates to the table.

“Hang on a second.” Brycen stopped Junior from sitting.

Her son faced him, all ears and eager to listen to anything his new idol would say.

“Can I talk to you about my investigation?”

“You mean my daddy?”

“Yes.”

Junior nodded, three jerky ones.

“A lot has to be done to catch bad guys. They have to be found first, and then we have to catch them.” He waited a beat. “That means I have to go places that aren’t good for kids.”

Now Junior lowered his head and Drury feared Brycen had lost him.

“Your mother, too, because it involves your dad.”

Brycen’s eyes lifted.

“People would probably take me off the case if I brought you with us. Besides that, I don’t want you anywhere near danger. That’s why we had to leave you the last time.”

“But I can fight the bad guy, too.”

“I’m sure you could, Junior. But right now I’m only trying to
find
the bad guy. Once I find him, then that’s when the fight begins.”

Junior lowered his eyes.

“Junior?” Brycen was going to make him pay attention.

Her son looked up at Brycen with his sweet, innocent face, and, yes, with growing trust for the man who’d come along in his life.

“Your mother and I have to go to another one of those places tomorrow. A place where kids can’t go. So we need to drop you off at your grandparents’ house again.”

Junior’s face angled and his forehead crinkled into disagreement. “No. I don’t want to go back there.”

“It’ll just be for the day,” Brycen said. “Then we’ll be back to pick you up. We’ll play catch just like today.”

When Junior continued to frown, Brycen said, “You can be my partner. My partners help me in my investigations.”

Junior’s scowl smoothed and unbridled enthusiasm burst all over his face. “I can go with you?”

“No. This is a different kind of partnership. You watch my back by staying with your grandparents. As long as I know you’re safe, I can do my job. You’d be a big help if you do that for me.”

Junior’s enthusiasm crashed the way it had appeared.

Brycen pulled out a pin from his jean pocket. It was a sheriff’s star, a trinket he must have gotten somewhere. Drury had no idea where. Maybe he’d had it here. Maybe he’d ordered it online and had gotten it in the mail today. However he’d done it, Junior’s face lit up again.

Brycen pinned the star to Junior’s flannel shirt. “You’re officially my partner now. And as my partner, you have to do your share of the work. Are you ready to do that? Can I count on you?”

Junior looked up from the star, his tiny fingers rubbing the grooves and points. “Yes.”

Giving the boy’s head a rub, he smiled and said, “Thanks.”

When Junior bounded off into the living room and picked up one of his superheroes—Andy from the cartoon
Toys
—Brycen stood and faced Drury.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said almost bashfully, or maybe she saw hesitation.

“Mind?” She laughed wryly. “Why would I mind a man helping my child? I haven’t seen this much change in him in a year.”

“Well...I won’t be here indefinitely.” He scratched the top of his cheek, more of an uncomfortable reaction. He had reservations over how much he connected with the boy. Brycen out of sorts didn’t jibe with the tough detective who stirred her passion so easily.

“A little attention will go a long way. As long as he doesn’t start expecting you to stay, your attention will only do good.” She didn’t say she wished she could have been the one to bring her son out of his grief—or on his way to doing so.

His soft smile faded as he turned to Junior, still lost in a glorious, joy-filled imaginary world, buoyed by a few hours of one-on-one time with a heroic male figure. Drury could feel his thoughts. The worry over how leaving Junior would set the boy back. The worry—possibly his biggest—that he’d grow too attached.

She wasn’t fooled. His inner programming convinced him to leave. Alaska held too many bad memories. Made him feel dragged down. Backward. His show made him feel lifted and moving forward. Progress in a positive direction. Who wouldn’t make the same decision? No one intended to take a step backward in life. But would staying really be a step backward?

He’d accomplished a lot in Chicago. She couldn’t call that a mistake—much less his successful TV show—but that didn’t mean returning to Alaska would be negative. Maybe he needed to face the tragedy that had driven him away. Maybe enough time had passed. The timing could be right for him to grow.

*

Drury with her long, sleek leg up with her foot on the dash provided an alluring distraction during the boring wait for something to happen at the coffee shop. When they’d gone in for coffee, he’d planted a bug. Pretending to use the bathroom, he’d sneaked in the back and stuck it above the doorway to the office. They’d drunk coffee and observed awhile, then come out here, parked on the street around the corner. The deputy had taken care of a phone tap.

The skinny jeans Drury wore showcased her legs and butt. Her long, silky hair swooped down and back over her shoulder as she played a game on her smartphone. Her petite nose sloped in perfect harmony from her brow to her mouth. Long, dark lashes shaded her stunning blue eyes. She moistened her full lips and the movement transported him back to the snowstorm and the different kind of fire they’d ignited into flames.

“Aw,” she said when her phone made a few dinging sounds. Then she turned her beautiful face to him. “I failed to feed my monster candy.”

Her smile faded as she noticed the way he must have looked.

Then his phone chimed and broke the fleeting moment. He wasn’t sure if he was glad or disappointed.

“Detective Cage,”

“Detective. Deputy Chandler.”

Brycen pressed the speaker button so Drury could hear this.

“I’ve got some news on the shoeprints you found,” the deputy said. “The lab made a mold and we’ve compared it to Carter Nichols’s shoes. We obtained a search warrant of his home. He had two state trooper–issue shoes in his closet. One of them is a match for type and size. Even more, the pattern of wear is also a match.”

Not enough to slam-dunk a charge, but a piece of evidence toward that end nonetheless.

“He must have gone home after killing Juanita,” Brycen said.

“He did. There are things missing from his house. His undergarment drawer was open and empty except for one torn pair. We found no other undergarments in the house. He had a luggage set but the midsize suitcase is missing. No car keys. No wallet. I just received a report from his bank. He withdrew his money this morning. Three hours ago.”

Carter had run.

“We know he didn’t board any flights. I’ve got every available trooper looking for him and put out a statewide alert and notified the Canadian Border Patrol.”

“Good.” But if Carter had withdrawn his money three hours ago, he had time to make it across the border before law enforcement caught up to him. That was assuming he even went to Canada. He could have traveled to Washington State.

“Have you alerted the ferry services?”

“In Washington, yes.”

“Good.” Carter could have arranged for false identification, though. Their chances of catching him weren’t promising, not today anyway.

The sound of a phone ringing over the receiver of Brycen’s surveillance equipment made him cut the call short with the deputy.

“Gotta go,” Brycen said. “Coffee shop owner is on a call. Do a background on him.”

“Will do. Report when you can,” the deputy said.

Brycen disconnected.

“What are you doing calling me on this line?” a man’s voice said through the receiver. “You put me and my store in danger.”

“I had to. The cops are closing in, man,” the caller said. “You have to lie low until you hear from
el jefe
.”

“Is that Carter?” Drury whispered, typing into her phone.

It did sound like him.

“I’ve got to go to the Tennessee House today,” the coffee shop owner said.

“I wouldn’t go anywhere near there for a while,” the man on the other line said. “I mean it. Lie low. I’ll be in contact when I can.”

“Carter?” the coffee shop owner said. And then, “Damn.”

The call ended and Brycen heard only the sound of the man moving around in the office along with the moderate flow of customers buying coffee and talking in the background.

“John Pulman,” Drury said, reading from her phone. “Came to Alaska twenty-four years ago with his wife and two sons. They’re grown now and he and the wife divorced three years ago. He opened the coffee shop soon after moving here. Seems to have been successful.”

“Let’s see what the background reveals.”

The sound of a door opening and closing preceded a car starting in the back of the shop.

“Get down,” Brycen said, slouching low in his seat.

Drury slouched, too, and a moment later, a car passed them. Straightening, Brycen pulled out into the traffic after John Pulman. Clouds had set in again. The forecast called for another several inches later today.

John made a left at a light. The light turned red as Brycen made the turn. He saw John go right a few blocks down. He sped up and made the turn.

“Where did he go?” Drury searched along with him.

They’d reached a below-average neighborhood with some commercial businesses mixed in. Brycen spotted John’s car parked in a circle driveway of the Tennessee House. The large white Colonial house with black trim had been converted to a hotel. A small parking lot in the back wasn’t very full.

Brycen parked and he and Drury walked to the front entrance. Inside, mosaic red carpet and dim lights gave a different impression than from outside. A chandelier hung from a high ceiling in the lobby. A curving staircase might once have been grand, but now a dirty path ran up the center of carpet and the chipped wood railing had lost some spindles. The smell of stale beer wafted from a lounge filled with dated wood tables and chairs and more mosaic red carpeting. The bar looked equally used and poorly maintained, running all the way along the far wall.

“Can I help you?” A woman appeared from the lounge and took what must have been her place behind a short counter angled in the lobby, the staircase behind her.

“We’re here to talk to John Pulman,” Brycen said.

“Oh...he isn’t here right now.”

“Yes, he is. We saw him drive up.” He brushed the side of his jacket to reveal his pistol as he retrieved his wallet and showed her his business card. “I’m Detective Cage. Why don’t you ask him to meet us in the lounge?” He gestured toward the lounge.

The woman looked from there back to him. “He’s already in there.”

Brycen nodded once. “Thank you.”

Drury followed him and he spotted two men and a scantily clad woman sitting at a corner booth. Brycen recognized the man across from the other two from the coffee shop. John Pulman.

The woman with the other man moved her chest, brushing breasts barely covered by sheer material against the man’s arm. She ran her hand down his torso.

An Asian woman in a short skirt appeared through a double swinging door and went behind the bar. “Can I get you something?” Her tight black top dipped seriously low and her nipples were clearly discernible. Another look at her face and he could tell the woman had applied heavy makeup to hide a bruise under her left eye.

“Ah... Brycen?” Drury said.

“Stay close.” While he’d like nothing more than to rescue the woman behind the bar, he had to take first steps.

He stopped a few feet from the table, watching the two men for signs of either one going for a weapon.

“John Pulman?” he said to the one he knew was that man.

He was lean and dressed business casual in tan slacks and a white shirt that sported a coffee stain, his buglike hazel eyes all but popping out from beneath a high forehead and stringy, thinning hair.

“Who are you?”

“Brycen Cage. This here is Drury Decoteau.”

The man slowly looked to her, a brief stillness overtaking him a moment. He understood now.

“You a cop?” he asked Brycen.

Drury hooked her arm with his, moving closer. This was no place for a woman like her. He could feel her distaste and discomfort.

“I’m a private investigator.” He handed him a card. “Dark Alley Investigations.”

A stillness came over John as he took the card. Without looking at it, he put it down. From the entrance to the lounge, two more women appeared, one a slender black woman, the other another Asian woman, both dressed in skimpy clothes designed to entice a man. The bartender pretended to be busy wiping the surface, but she kept looking over at Brycen as he spoke.

“You know,” Brycen said, “when I found out Noah Decoteau was shot outside a coffee shop, it didn’t occur to me that the owner might be involved.”

“I wasn’t involved.”