Person of Interest (12 page)

Everett’s voice came from what appeared to be an office or den at the end of the hallway. He backed into the hallway, phone to his ear and raised his hand to acknowledge her before he disappeared again.

Curious to see what he’d found, she hurried along the hall and peered into the office, taking in the mahogany desk and plush side chairs, the large world globe standing near the palladium windows and the shelves of books, many leather-bound.

Stepping fully into the room, she looked up at the exposed rafters. Her heart stopped.

In the corner, a man hung from a beam, his swollen face contorted in death.

She screamed.

Everett turned, his face drawn. He lowered the phone and grabbed her, ushering her back to the hallway and then into the kitchen.

“I didn’t want you to see him.”

“It’s Vernon Ingalls, isn’t it?” Her heart pounded. “Mason found out Tammy was seeing another man so he killed his wife and her boyfriend.”

“There’s another answer.”

Natalie shook her head. “How can you think anything else?”

“Mr. Ingalls left a typed suicide note. He said if he couldn’t have Tammy, no one else would, either. He claimed to have pushed her to her death last night. Today, overcome with remorse, he decided to take his own life.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I called the police. They’ll be here momentarily. They’ll alert the medical examiner who will determine the cause of death.”

Suicide or murder? Natalie knew the answer even if Everett refused to see the truth.

He raised his cell to his ear once again. “Sorry, Officer, what were you saying?” He paused. “That’s correct. The victim appears to have taken his own life.”

Tears burned Natalie’s eyes. Everett seemed oblivious to what had happened. Why couldn’t he see this as a vindictive attack from a crazed CID special agent who couldn’t handle rejection?

Her heart ached that an innocent man had died and no one thought Mason was to blame. Needing to distance herself from the pain of another death, she ran from the house. All she could see was the man’s swollen body dangling from the rafter. Three people had died in less than twenty-four hours. Another woman had died a year ago. Yet no one saw the connection.

Without checking for traffic, she ran headlong into the street. Everett’s SUV was parked on the opposite side of the road. She wanted to hide there, away from the crime scene and the smell of death.

From out of nowhere, a dark sedan sped straight toward her.

“Natalie!” Behind her, Everett shouted a warning.

She glanced back, seeing his mouth open, his arms flailing as he ran across the front yard.

The squeal of tires and roar of an engine drove away any other thought. Slowly, her mind tried to process the impending crash.

“Natalie!”

She wanted to respond, but she couldn’t.

In a flash, he was beside her, grabbing her and shoving her out of harm’s way. She fell to the pavement, but out of the path of the car.

The sedan squealed past. The driver gunned the engine and sped away, never slowing to find out if she was okay.

Everett reached for her. “Are you hurt?”

She couldn’t respond. Her heart pounded too abruptly in her chest and her pulse thumped like a jackhammer.

She’d seen the driver of the car.

For a split second.

She’d seen Mason.

ELEVEN

T
he police questioned Natalie repeatedly, but she stuck to her story. The driver had worn a stocking cap on his head, yet she’d recognized him. Mason was the driver who had tried to run her down.

After the ME examined the hanging victim, police lowered the body and placed it in a body bag. Tomorrow an autopsy would be done. Everett asked that the findings be sent to the CID office at Fort Rickman. The medical examiner assured him they would.

The victim was Vernon Ingalls, a Decatur lawyer.

Everett shared the information he had received from Mason’s sister with the local police, and two patrolmen quickly left to question Annabelle. Others knocked on doors and talked to the neighbors, in case anyone had seen anything suspect.

Stepping onto the front porch, Everett called post and informed Frank about the incident, as well as the dark sedan that had followed them earlier and their meeting with Annabelle Yates and Danny Owens.

Frank listened attentively and then sighed. “Sounds like you’re building a case against Mason, but it’s all circumstantial. I need concrete evidence, Rett.”

“Has he remained on post all this time?”

“As far as I know.”

“You’re not certain?”

“He had an appointment with the chaplain about his wife’s funeral.”

“Did he show up?”

“I didn’t put a tail on Mason, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Maybe you should have. The car that followed us and the vehicle that almost struck Natalie were dark, midsize, four-door sedans. Mason drives a navy blue car, which could have been on our tail.”

“I’ll find out if he’s still on post, but you need to bring Natalie back here.”

“Not yet, Frank. I need more time.”

“It has to do with that first sexual harassment case, doesn’t it, Rett? That wasn’t your fault. You were ordered to close the investigation.”

“Just like you’re ordering me back to post.”

“Okay.” Frank hesitated for a long moment. “I’ll give you twenty-four more hours. Then I want Natalie Frazier at Fort Rickman. Is that understood?”

“Roger that.”

“And remember, Rett, you were a rookie back then. Now you’re an experienced investigator. That makes a huge difference.”

Except that only put more pressure on Everett. He disconnected and stood for a long moment staring at the road where Natalie had almost been hit. The driver had seen her, Everett felt sure, yet he had failed to slow down and had even seemed to accelerate at the last moment.

If Everett hadn’t run after Natalie—

A ball of bile burned his gut. The thought of what could have happened wrapped him in a blanket of remorse. Natalie had been hysterical when he’d helped her to the side of the road. The near collision had been too close, and she’d been too emotional to see things clearly. As opposed as she was to Mason, Everett didn’t know that she hadn’t hallucinated and thought she’d seen the man at the wheel who constantly occupied her thoughts.

The lead officer tapped Everett’s shoulder. “We don’t have any more questions. You might want to take Ms. Frazier home. She’s looks worn-out and about ready to collapse.”

Home? Women on the run didn’t have a home.

The female soldier from his past had said something about her life being turned inside out. Surely that’s how Natalie felt. The other woman had died long ago. Her body had been found in a deep ravine in the training area on post.

Everett had been the first at the scene.

Closing his eyes, he could still see her mangled remains. The sergeant major—her former lover—had beaten her with a baseball bat and left her to be eaten by animals and plucked by vulture birds—all because Everett hadn’t done his job.

“Sir, did you hear me?” The officer leaned in closer.

Everett nodded. “You said Ms. Frazier can leave now.”

“That’s right. I’ll call in the results of the autopsy to Special Agent Gallagher at the CID Office. I’ll also pass along anything we get on the hanging victim.”

“What about the suicide note? Did you locate a computer and printer in the house?”

“He had a laptop here but no printer. We’re checking his office, which might turn up something.”

“Any idea if Mr. Ingalls was going through a hard time?”

“We won’t know anything until we talk to his business associates and neighbors. Perhaps friends in the area. We’ll need information on the Yates death as well. Stranger things have happened than a man killing the woman he loves because he can’t have her and doesn’t want anyone else to, either.”

“Messed-up idea of love,” Everett threw out.

“You got that right. My crime-scene crew will be here through the night processing everything. Maybe we’ll be lucky and find trace evidence that might provide more answers.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” Everett extended his hand. “Thanks for working with the CID.”

“God bless the USA, right?”

“Exactly.” Both men stepped inside. Natalie sat huddled on the couch. Her face was pale and her eyes downturned.

Everett gave the officer his card. “My cell’s always on. Anything I can do to help, just call.”

“Will do. You’ve got my number?”

“Already programmed in my phone.”

“You’re heading back to Fort Rickman?”

Everett glanced at Natalie. “I’m not sure.”

“Safe travel.”

“Roger that.”

Everett neared the couch. Natalie looked up, her eyes rimmed with sorrow.

“We can go now.”

She nodded and slowly rose.

“Did they determine if Vernon Ingalls committed suicide?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“Not yet. They’ll notify me as soon as they have more information.”

She stepped toward the door and glanced though the side window. “It’s so dark outside. How long have we been in here?”

Too long,
Everett thought, taking her arm. “You need some food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“We’ll pick up fast food.”

“I don’t want to go back to Fort Rickman”

It seemed to be her mantra. “I understand.”

She turned and glared at him. “Do you, Everett? Do you really understand? I think you’re like all the other guys in law enforcement. You’ve got your own agenda. In your opinion, Mason is law enforcement, which means he can do no wrong. You’re nice enough to me, but you’re on his side.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. It’s evident. I heard you talking to the other police officer. No one is concerned about Mason.”

“I called Frank.”

“And what did Frank do after talking to you? Did he arrest Mason?”

“Natalie, there has to be enough evidence.”

“I saw his face. He was behind the wheel and almost ran me down. If I were a hit-and-run victim, would you be a bit more interested in who was driving the car?”

“I am interested. It’s being looked into.”

She sighed, the heaviness of her frustration evident.

They left the house and crossed the street to Everett’s SUV. She glanced down at where she had landed after he had shoved her to safety. Her hands were scraped where she’d fallen to the pavement.

He hated that she’d been hurt, but she was alive.

For that he was grateful.

Staring into the darkness, he wondered what would happen next. Someone was after her. Was it Mason, or Denise’s boyfriend, or some other perpetrator that didn’t even have a name at this point in the investigation? No matter who it was, Everett had to make sure the perp didn’t succeed.

Natalie’s life depended on Everett’s ability as a CID special agent. He couldn’t let down his guard. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not the day following. Not until the killer or killers had been arrested and were behind bars. Then he could breathe deeply again.

But only if he’d done his job and kept Natalie alive.

* * *

Natalie huddled next to the door on the far side of the car and rested her head on the side window, her eyes focused on little except the darkness.

She’d refused Everett’s invitation to stop for food. The last thing she wanted was to put anything in her stomach. The nervous agitation she’d felt since hearing the argument in the adjoining duplex quarters had grown even more pronounced with the lawyer’s death until she felt completely overcome with grief.

Overcome with fatigue, too. She needed to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she saw Vernon Ingalls hanging from the rafter. As hard as she tried to focus on something else, she kept going back to his puffy, contorted face.

Death was grotesque. Tammy’s expression of pure terror had been more than horrific. Seeing a second person with that same expression was almost her undoing.

“Where are we going?” she asked, needing to fill the car with something other than the drone of the engine. Hearing her own voice—even if it wasn’t much more than a whisper—meant she was still able to function, and the visions flashing through her mind were merely that.

“The North Georgia mountains. We’ll stop in Dahlonega first and talk to Janet Owens Queen and then head farther north to visit my uncle.”

“I don’t like heights.”

“Not to worry. Uncle Harry has a house on the side of a hill, overlooking a lush valley. The elevation isn’t too high, and the trees should be showing signs of their fall colors. It’s a good place to relax.”

As if she could. “Is he expecting you?”

“More or less.”

“Meaning he knows you’re going to visit, but he didn’t think you’d bring a stray.”

“A friend, Natalie, that’s what you are.”

She shook her head. Everett was trying to make light of her situation. “A woman on the run is more like it.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she sighed with relief at the darkness behind them. “Appears we’re the only ones on the road tonight.”

“I’ve seen a few folks heading north, but the traffic’s thinned out.”

She glanced at the clock on the console. “It’s almost nine o’clock, and we’ve still got a long way to go. Does your uncle know you won’t be there until late tonight?”

Everett smiled. Even in the half-light, she could see the lift of his lips and his raised brow. She was beginning to read his expressions. The current look revealed a lightness of heart that she wished she could imitate. Right now, she felt too weighted down with worry.

“Uncle Harry expected me yesterday. I called and explained that I had to work. He assured me he’d be happy to see me no matter when I arrived.”

“But he thinks you’ll be alone.”

Everett flicked a glance at her before turning his gaze back to the road. “He’ll like you, Natalie. He never had any kids. Always wanted a houseful. He turned eighty his last birthday and plans to move to an assisted-living center closer to the city. He’s not happy about leaving his home, but he knows it’s a wise decision. I promised to lend a hand with getting his house ready to put on the market.”