Targeted (Callahan & McLane Book 4) (20 page)

24

Mason was ready to pull out Micah Zuch’s fingernails. The kid knew who’d killed Denny; Mason could feel it. But the punk sat there like King Shit of Turd Island and brushed aside every question asked of him. He’d wanted more attention, so they were giving it to him, and now he was reveling in it.

“Calm down,” Ava said in a whisper. She’d joined Mason in the viewing room to watch Euzent and Nora Hawes question Micah. “He’ll eventually tell us how he knows everything.”

“He’s wasting our time,” stated Mason. “This investigation could be wrapped up and finished if he’d just tell us what he knows. He’s having fun, drawing it out. He doesn’t care that someone else could be killed!”

She took his hand and squeezed, keeping her gaze on the conversation in the next room. Her touch made him take a deep breath and relax his shoulders.

“Where’s Zander?” Mason asked, wanting the agent’s level head in the room. “Twice Micah has asked where the other FBI agent is. I think he’d talk to him. He must have formed some sort of rapport with the guy even though Zander told him he was going to jail.”

“He must still be going through Vance Weldon’s files back at our office,” Ava said. “I hope he and Mercy are finding something useful.”

Mason hoped so, too.

“Micah,” Mason heard Special Agent Euzent say through the speaker. “I don’t think you killed these men.”

Micah looked at the wall.

“I do believe you were there,” added Euzent.

The boy was silent.

“Who are you protecting?” asked Nora. “It must be someone very special to you. I know I wouldn’t confess to murder for anyone. Not even to cover for my mother.”

Micah glanced at her and looked away.

“His mother?” whispered Ava. “No way. Regina’s not the type.”

“Never say never,” said Mason.

“Did you know your mother had been involved with one of the men who was killed?” Nora asked.

Micah’s gaze flew to the detective’s and his body stiffened.

“Surprise,” said Mason. Satisfaction rolled through him that they’d finally gotten a reaction out of the kid.

“You’re lying,” said Micah in an adamant tone.

“No, we’re not,” Nora assured him. “Your mother is downstairs. I already talked to her. She’s very upset about Vance Weldon’s death.”

Confusion crossed his face.

Euzent watched Micah like a hawk, hanging on every word, tone, and facial expression. Mason wondered what was going on in his brain. “Did you know the victims, Micah?” he asked in a casual voice.

“No.”

“We still don’t understand why you killed them.”

“You don’t need to know. I did it. That’s what’s important.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “I’m hungry.”

Ava shook her head. “No way. He’s eaten more than I eat in an entire day.”

“It’s the age,” said Mason.

“I see you’ve caused problems at school,” said Euzent. “You tried to scare everyone with an obviously fake bomb. You brought an unloaded gun to school. I’d say you aren’t very good at being threatening.”

“That’ll poke at his pride,” muttered Mason.

Micah was silent, but anger flushed his face.

Euzent continued, “I bet you’ve had to sit through a lot of sessions with psychiatrists and doctors. Anyone else try to help you?” The agent made air quotes as he said the word “help.”

“All the fucking time,” snapped Micah. “Stupid people telling me how wrong I am.”

“Who else?” asked Euzent.

“Everyone.”

“Is there a possibility they’re honestly trying to help?”

“No. They’re only doing it to make themselves look good. They think if they can act like they’re helping me, they’ll earn points from other people.”

“Earn points from what people?”

Micah shrugged. “My mom. Their boss.”

“Men try to look good to your mom by being nice to you?” Nora asked.

“All the time. Especially when I was younger. They were so fucking obvious. They’d come over under the pretense of being my buddy . . . trying to provide me with a
positive male role model
, but they only wanted to get close to my mom.” Disdain dripped from his words.

Mason stared.
A positive male role model?

“Holy shit,” Mason said. “Can you text Nora?”

“Yes.” Ava pulled out her phone.

“Tell her to ask if Micah was in the Cops 4 Kidz program.”

Mason watched as Nora checked her phone. She showed her screen to Euzent, who nodded.

“Were some of those men who befriended you from the Cops 4 Kidz program?” Euzent asked.

Micah didn’t answer and shuffled his feet under the table.

“Who’d you meet through that program?” Euzent leaned forward, his gaze locked on Micah’s face. “You said you didn’t know any of the victims. Do you want to change your answer on that?”

“I didn’t know those guys,” he said firmly.

“None of them?”

“Never heard of them before I killed them.”

“Did they mentor him?” Ava said excitedly. “And he thinks we can’t verify that?”

“Check with Henry. He’s babysitting Regina downstairs, right? Have him ask her if Micah was in the program.”

“She told us she met Vance Weldon at a fund-raiser. We never asked who was hosting the fund-raiser,” muttered Ava as she tapped out another text.

Mason thought back to the dozens of Cops 4 Kidz events he’d attended. Basketball games, auctions, formal parties. He’d been proud to volunteer for the organization; it did good work in the community and produced results. He still kept in touch with some of the boys—now men—he’d mentored when there’d been no father figure in their lives.

The young men weren’t on the streets, and they weren’t in prison. Some of the kids he’d seen go through the program had had an amazing number of strikes against them and no amount of mentoring could help, but Mason still strove to give what he could. Being on the board of the organization wasn’t quite as rewarding, but he felt as if he helped.

“Henry says Micah was in the mentoring program. But Regina says he wasn’t mentored by the cops who were killed,” said Ava. “Dammit. Why isn’t this adding up?”

Her phone buzzed again. “He says Regina can’t remember the names of the men who
did
mentor Micah. I’ll call the director and find out who worked with him,” said Ava.

We’re onto something here.

But Mason couldn’t connect the dots.

A half hour later Ava still hadn’t heard back from the director of Cops 4 Kidz. Mason paced the task force room as Ava took a turn questioning Micah Zuch. Mason wondered if he should go knock on Scott Heuser’s front door.

His phone rang. “Callahan,” he snapped.

“Detective Callahan, this is Jolene Kersey.”

Mason abruptly refocused at the voice of Jayne’s doctor and all thoughts of Micah Zuch shot out of his head. “What happened? What’d she do?”

“Is Ava with you?” the doctor asked hesitantly.

“Not at the minute. Do I need to get her?”

“No, not yet.” She paused, and Mason’s heart rate tripled.

“What happened to Jayne?” he asked, holding his breath. His knuckles blanched as he clenched his phone, and he was glad he was the only person in the room.

“We don’t know,” said Dr. Kersey. “She’s missing.”

“What?”
Relief and concern simultaneously swamped him. Every day he expected a phone call stating that Ava’s twin had committed suicide. Or burned down the rehab center. He knew Ava waited for the same call and had been waiting for most of her life.

A call that stated Jayne was simply missing was a relief.

“We just did the evening check. The residents are to be in their rooms by now. Jayne is nowhere to be found. We’ve searched all the buildings.”

“Did you check the other residents’ rooms to see if she was hiding?” Suspicion grew in his stomach.

“Yes.” Dr. Kersey’s tone sounded slightly guilty.

“Is there another resident missing?”

Dr. Kersey sighed. “Yes, we have a male resident missing, too. I just got off the phone with his family.”

I knew it.
His brain spun. Should he tell Ava now? Or wait for the rehab center to look some more?

“I’m sorry, Detective Callahan. I don’t know how this happened.”

Mason knew.

“Is the other missing resident the one Jayne referred to in her last letter to Ava? The one I talked to you about?” he asked.

“Yes,” the doctor said reluctantly. “We’ve been watching them. Some of the other employees had voiced your same concerns about Jayne and Brady.”

“Brady?”

“His name is Brady Shurr. We’ve notified the police that they’re missing.”

“They’re both adults. I doubt the police were very interested.”

“That’s true. But we have a policy to follow and notifying the police after a thorough search is the first step. Calling family is second.”

Mason wanted to tell her to pull the stick out of her ass. If Dr. Kersey had listened when he and the other therapist had warned her about Jayne and her new obsession, she wouldn’t be filing reports due to their
policy
.

“Shurr,” he repeated. “As in Shurr car dealerships?”

“Yes, that’s his family.”

He remembered that Heidi Lain had told him the man came from a family with money. She hadn’t been exaggerating. The Shurr dealerships had dominated the Portland metropolitan area for decades.

Jayne knew how to sniff out money.

“Brady Shurr is married, right?”

“Yes,” the doctor said in a disappointed tone.

Mason wondered how much of the man would be left once Jayne had used him up and tossed him aside. If Brady’s wife had half a brain, she was already filing for divorce.

Will Jayne contact Ava?

Mason blew out a breath as he remembered he’d activated his home’s security system before he’d left that morning. If Jayne and her new boyfriend decided to break in, they were in for a deafening alarm. Assuming Jayne knew where they lived. As far as he knew, Ava had never told her twin that they’d moved. For good reason.

“I hope this doesn’t influence how you feel about the work we do here, Detective. We work very—”

“Are you kidding me?” Mason bit back harsh words. “You let a patient out! Two patients. Two people who have no business wandering around in public right now. I don’t know Brady Shurr’s situation, but if Jayne managed to manipulate him, he’s emotionally unstable, and the worst part is
I warned you
! Your staff warned you!”

“Brady Shurr’s family would appreciate—”

He laughed. Dr. Kersey had just lost the last shred of respect he’d had for her. Her priority was her rich patient. He wondered if the Shurr family paid more for Brady’s treatment than Ava paid for Jayne’s. Wasn’t Ava’s money just as green?

“Feeling a little heat from the Shurrs?” Mason prodded, his anger growing. “I imagine staying in their good graces is rather important. I’ve heard they produce quite the line of drug addicts. They’ve probably helped keep you in business for years. What are their thoughts on this mishap?”

“They know it was no fault of ours that Jayne—”

“Why am I not surprised that you placed all the blame on Jayne?”

Isn’t it all Jayne’s fault?

He pushed on. “Jayne has no financial resources at the moment. They’ll need somewhere to go. Who out of that couple do you think has access to money? Because I know it’s not Jayne.” Guilt poked at him. He
knew
Jayne had orchestrated at least 90 percent of the escape; it was exactly the type of move she’d pull. But Dr. Kersey was pissing him off with her attitude. “I have a good buddy who’s an investigative reporter at the
Oregonian
. You can bet you’ll be getting some phone calls from him regarding your record at the treatment center. Has anyone else escaped over the years? Do some clients pay more than others?”

Did I just call Michael Brody a good buddy?
He caught his breath and tried to shake the red aura that’d clouded his vision.
Jayne’s affecting me and she’s not even here.

He counted to ten. “What are you doing to find them?” he asked in a calmer voice.

“Our policy is to contact family and police,” snapped Dr. Kersey. “We aren’t required to do anything beyond that. Yes, we are very concerned for their safety, but we can’t afford to hire a private security force to hunt for people who don’t want to be found.”

“So you sit and wait.”

“Exactly. Like you said, they’re adults.”

“Adults who were entrusted to your care, Doctor.”

“I’m sorry we let you down, Detective. I hope you’ll relay my regrets to Ava. Hopefully Jayne and Brady will appear soon.” She ended the call.

Mason stared out the window and down at the streetlights.
Now what?

What will this do to Ava?

25

A
va studied Mason’s face.

Jayne is missing?

She looked deep inside herself, searching, waiting for the alarm. And realized she didn’t care.

She’s my sister.

Worry and concern shone from Mason’s eyes, and she wondered what he saw on her face.

He’d pulled her aside after her useless interview with Micah Zuch, led her into a quiet room, and blurted the news from Jayne’s doctor.

Missing. Another man. Police notified.

The words spun in her head. Jayne wasn’t dead. Her death might be the only thing that would wrench emotion out of Ava over her twin. She’d formed thick scabs and scars to protect her heart from Jayne’s next event. And here it was. Her defenses had protected her and she felt . . . nothing. “Do you remember if we set the alarm when we left the house this morning?” she whispered.

Amusement crossed his face. “First thing I thought about, too. Yes, I set it.”

“She’s okay,” Ava stated, still shocked by the calm in her chest.

“That’s right,” he reassured her. “No one’s reported anything. She ran off with someone with a lot of money, so I imagine she has a solid roof over her head tonight. Possibly a nicer one than ours.”

“About time she met someone with
real
money.”

Mason blinked and then coughed out a laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it.”

“Am I a horrible person that I don’t care?” Ava asked. Her lack of emotional reaction disturbed her.
Am I broken? Did I kill the part of me that gives a shit?

“Lord, no. She’s stomped all over you. She’s not in any immediate danger that we know of, so I think your reaction is normal.”

He didn’t appear to be patronizing her; he looked as if he believed what he’d said.

She took a deep breath, nodding, trying to convince herself that she hadn’t evolved into a sociopath with no conscience.
Now what?
She switched her brain to investigator mode. “Should we reach out to Brady Shurr’s family?”

“That’s up to you. Do you think they’ll want to hear from you?”

“Good question. On one hand, we’re in law enforcement and that might be of comfort to them. On the other hand, I don’t think they’ll be happy to hear that Brady was the next in a long line of men that Jayne used for her own amusement.”

“I’m afraid they’ll expect us to find them.”

Ava shook her head. “I have no idea where they’d go. We don’t have time to waste on a couple of grown adults who made their own stupid decision. We need to focus on the case at hand.”

Aren’t I the least bit concerned about Jayne?

No.

“She knows how to take care of herself,” Ava said, for her own benefit as well as Mason’s. “She gets into trouble, but she’s managed to survive this long.”

“Barely.”

He watched her carefully, and she fought back an urge to assure him she wasn’t about to crack. Far from it. She was pissed and it felt good.

“I hope she doesn’t make more bad decisions,” Ava muttered.

Mason raised a brow at her. “Aren’t bad decisions a given with her?”

“You’re right. They are. When her hole gets too deep, she’ll turn up, needing something from me.”

Please stay away from drugs, Jayne. I can’t help you there.

Her phone rang. Ava didn’t recognize the number.

“I’m going to check in with Nora,” said Mason as she looked at her phone. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He strode out of the room.

“Special Agent McLane.”

“This is Mercy Kilpatrick, Zander suggested I call you.”

Relief swept over Ava. “Of course, Mercy. What did you the two of you find out about Vance Weldon?” She held back the information about Regina Zuch, wanting to hear Special Agent Kilpatrick’s information first.

“I took a close look at who Weldon had crossed paths with in his domestic terrorism cases and to see if any of the other officers who’d been murdered had been involved in the investigations in some way. I haven’t been able to find anything. Most of Weldon’s work involved suspects in Central and Eastern Oregon, and our outside support came from officers in those regions.”

“Did you find
anything
that might be useful in our case?” Ava asked, getting to the heart of their conversation.

“Not really.” Mercy sighed. “Vance hadn’t reported any issues with suspects or been worried about his safety in any way.”

Ava told her about Regina Zuch’s affair with Weldon.

“Well now. Isn’t that interesting?” Ava heard her tap on computer keys in the background. “Let me see what we have on her.”

“Micah Zuch still hasn’t told us how he knows all this accurate information. We’re guessing that he’s protecting someone. We considered his mother, but I can’t see it,” Ava said, hoping she wasn’t wrong. She let her brain travel down that path again.
Could Regina be involved and her son is trying to keep her out of jail?

The long hair found on two of the bodies.

The hair was dark, but Regina clearly colored her hair a bright blonde.

“I don’t have anything on Regina Zuch,” Mercy said in a disappointed voice. “Her name doesn’t come up in any of Vance’s cases or otherwise.”

“Ask what Zander thinks of her affair with Weldon,” suggested Ava.

“He’s not here.”

“Oh. I thought he told you to call.”

“He did when he asked me to dig into Vance Weldon’s cases. He wanted you to immediately have any information I found. I’m sorry I haven’t—”

“Wait.” Ava froze. “He isn’t with you? I thought the two of you were working together this evening.”

“No, I haven’t seen Zander since this afternoon. I’ve left messages for him to call me, but I assumed he was tied up with the task force.”

Ava’s brain spun in confusion. “I’ll go to his house. It’s five minutes away. Maybe he’s working on something from there, and I misunderstood where he’d said he’d be.”

“This doesn’t sound like him.”

“I agree. But he looked exhausted this morning. He said he didn’t sleep last night,” Ava said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s simply crashed.”

“I’ll meet you there,” said Mercy. “The two of you are working a case where cops are being murdered. I’m sure Zander is fine, but you shouldn’t go alone. I’ll leave in two minutes.”

Ava ended the call with the concerned agent and glanced at the time. She could get over to Zander’s home and back in less than fifteen minutes at this time of night. No one would even notice she’d left.

Ava parked at the curb and looked at the dark house. Zander’s car was in the driveway, and she let out a relieved sigh.
I was right. He’s just exhausted.
She fumed a bit because he hadn’t checked in with her or Mercy, but she knew that Mason could sleep eighteen hours straight when he’d worn himself out on a case. A fire alarm wouldn’t disturb him, let alone the ringing of his phone.

She’d told Mason and Nora that she was dropping by Zander’s home. Mason had offered to come with her, but she’d refused. “I’ll be back soon and Mercy Kilpatrick will be there, too.”

She waited a few minutes for Mercy, but impatience got the best of her and she decided to knock on the door. She walked carefully up the dark path to his front door. No Halloween decorations. Unlike at all the other homes on his street, whose residents seemed to view decor as a competition. The neighborhood was flat and easy to walk, and the homes were close together. It probably swarmed with kids during Halloween. It was an ideal trick-or-treating neighborhood because a lot of houses could be covered in a short time. Prime real estate for a large candy haul, every kid’s priority on Halloween. When she was a kid, it was exactly what she’d have wanted when she chose a neighborhood for trick-or-treating. She’d always lived in an apartment with her mother and sister, so they’d gone to subdivisions to trick-or-treat. Ava had memorized which ones were the best. No hills, no long stairs to the front doors, and tons of kids.

Zander’s neighborhood rated a high score in her book. She wondered if he was the only single guy on the street.

Does he turn off his porch light on Halloween? Warning kids not to knock?

She hoped not. Those houses contained lonely, cranky people.

Noticing it was eleven
P.M.
, she cringed as she pushed the doorbell.

Listening closely for any sounds of movement inside, she waited.

She pushed it again, blowing out a breath and watching it float away in the cool night air.

And waited.

She turned around and looked down the street, hoping to see the headlights from Mercy’s car. It was silent.

What if Zander is a victim?

Her adrenaline spiking, she touched the weapon at her side and stepped to the side of the door.

A footstep sounded inside. “Zander?” she called.

A curse sounded through the door. Recognizing his voice, she blew out a breath and was relieved she hadn’t drawn her gun.

“Zander? You didn’t return my texts. I just wanted to check on you.”

Clicking sounded as he flipped the locks, and she exhaled. Finally.

He opened the door, and she gasped as alcohol fumes filled the air. She waved a hand in front of her face. “Jesus Christ! What are you doing?”

He wore baggy pajama bottoms and a sleeveless shirt. She couldn’t see his face.

“Turn on the light,” she said sharply.

“Ava . . .”

“Turn it on.” She reached in the house, around the doorjamb, and felt for a switch. “Oh, my God.”

He turned away at the rush of light but not before she’d caught a glimpse of red puffy eyes and nose.

“Are you sick?” she asked, knowing that wasn’t the case. No one bathes in vodka when they’re sick.

She stepped into the house, forcing him to retreat, and turned on more lights. “What’s going on? Why haven’t you returned my calls? Mercy said you haven’t returned hers, either. I thought you were working with her today?”

He wouldn’t look her in the eye. He turned and stalked away. She followed as he headed into his kitchen. She’d been to his home at other times to pick him up, but she’d never been farther than the doorway. It was as neat as she’d expected but very plain. The kitchen was the pale oak that’d been so popular decades before, but seemed organized and clean. Except for the empty fifth of vodka on the counter and the empty knocked-over carton of orange juice.

Ava stared. Vodka and OJ was one of Jayne’s favorites. The familiar sight sent anxiety shooting through her brain.

“Why are you drinking?” she asked.

He didn’t answer as he twisted the lid on a new bottle of vodka. A loud crack sounded as the seal broke, and his hand shook as he poured the liquid in a glass.

“Can I get you some ice?” Ava offered.

He ignored her snark and opened his freezer, digging in the ice with a bare hand and dropping a handful into his glass. Vodka sloshed over the side. He picked it up and held her gaze over the rim as he drank.

“Out of orange juice?”

“Don’t need it,” he muttered.

“Why didn’t you call me back?”

“Why are you in my house?”

She bit her lip and lowered her voice. “I was worried about you. Several people are worried. It’s not like you to not return calls.”

He took another drink, still staring at her with reddened eyes. She gazed back.
He’s hurting.

“I shouldn’t have come.”

“That’s right.”

He wants me to get pissed at him.
“What is going on, Zander? I came here because I give a crap about you.”

He looked away.

“Did you know it crossed my mind that I might find you staked to your
goddamned wall
?”

His gaze flew back to hers.

Now I have his attention.

“That’s right. You went dark when officers are dying. What was I supposed to think?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think,” he mumbled. He set the glass down on the counter with a loud clank and wiped the back of his hand across his nose.

“No, you didn’t think.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the table in the dining nook. “Sit. Tell me what happened.” She pushed him into a chair and took the one next to him, giving him her full attention.

“Nothing happened.”

“Yes, something happened. This isn’t you. You don’t get smashed and avoid your coworkers.
What happened today?
”

“It’s the date . . . it’s my date.” He stared at his hands on the table.

Tomorrow was Halloween. October thirtieth meant nothing to her. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said slowly. “What happens on October thirtieth?”

He slowly raised his gaze to meet hers, his eyes red and moist. “My wife died on October thirtieth. Our baby, too. This is the one day a year I let myself fucking fall apart. I can get through the rest of the year if I know I have permission to crumble on October thirtieth. But today I wanted to push through it just this once so I could work the case. I didn’t make it.”

Ava wanted to cry. His anguish had ripped holes in the air in the room.

I yelled at him.

She put her hands over his on the table. “You never talk about it. I didn’t know.” Her voice cracked. She’d known his wife was dead, but she hadn’t known about a baby. “I didn’t know you had a baby.”