The Equalizer (20 page)

Chapter 25

I
had an idea whose Focus
it was and left for Fourth Street. From the street the Becker house looked dark, so I drove around and down the alley. Two cars were parked in the backyard: the black Ford Focus and a white Explorer. I got out and felt the hoods—both warm.

A light was on in the back of the house. Through a small window I saw Todd Hackett leaning against a cabinet. He appeared to be laughing hysterically. I walked back to where I parked, sat in my truck and called dispatch. Then I called Ralph. He’d already been apprised of the situation at my apartment and told me Troy and Tamika were on the scene. He said to go ahead and enter the premises and detain those present. He’d have units there shortly. I walked up a few steps to the back door of house and knocked. When Todd Hackett opened the door, his smile fell to the floor.

I flashed my badge. “You remember me? Deputy Sheehan with the Birch County Sheriff’s Department. Mind if I come in? I have a couple questions.”

Hackett hesitated a moment before he let me in. When I entered the small kitchen, Zach Whitman and Max Becker were sitting at an old Formica table with cans of Budweiser in front of them.

“What’s this about, Cal?” Zach Whitman asked.

“Where have you been tonight?” I asked.

“We’ve been here,” Todd Hackett said. He was a true punk: the body stance, the expression, the attitudinal tone—the kind you half want to resist arrest.

“Why lie about it? Hoods of the two cars out back are still warm,” I said.

“We got back a long time ago,” Todd said.

“You boys out bow hunting this evening?” I asked.

“Whatever are you talking about?” Zach asked.

I heard a car door slam. I hoped it was my backup, but soon Chad Hackett walked in. “What’s going on?” he asked

“Evidently a warm car hood is a crime,” Zach smirked.

Todd laughed. Max Becker looked pale. Chad lit a cigarette.

“Why are you really here, Cal?” Zach asked. “Need a little companionship?”

Ignoring the little shit, I repeated my question to the Becker kid, “Max, where were you tonight? ” I asked.

He shrugged, but he looked scared.

“Well, maybe a trip down to County Correctional will jog your memory,” I said.

“Oh, give me a break,” Zach said.

I continued to ignore the little pissant.

“Max, how about we go take a look at your car?”

He looked like he could vomit.

“Ask for a search warrant, Beck,” Zach said.

“Yeah, I want the search warrant,” Max said.

I smiled at them.

At this point, Tamika Frank and Austin Spanney, the new guy who replaced me on patrol, arrived and entered without incident. Tamika told me Troy was on his way with the search warrant. I smiled. “It’s on its way, boys.”

As concern crept across the faces, the kitchen became quiet. I suggested we separate everyone into different rooms. Fifteen minutes later Troy arrived with the search warrant that included the Becker house, garage, and vehicles of anyone present in the home. One by one, we searched the premises, each kid, and the vehicles.

Spanney and I took Becker out to his vehicle where we found a BowTech Diamond bow under a blanket in his trunk. No arrows.

“What’s this, Max?” I asked.

“How the hell did that get in there? It ain’t mine.”

I laughed. “Never is,” I said.

When Spanney put Max Becker in the backseat of a squad, I walked back to the house to find Zach Whitman sitting in the dining room. He let out a little laugh. He was one cocksure kid.

“You think this is all a big joke? I have a strong feeling you are smack in the center of this, and you won’t find it so funny when you’re sitting in a jail cell.”

He laughed. “You act like you don’t know who you’re talking to,” he said.

“Are you kidding me? I guarantee you I’ll find out everyone involved, and no matter who their granddaddies are, they’re coming down.”

I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. Troy told me to step outside.

When we were on the front sidewalk he said, “Look, this is personal to you and you need to step out of it now. Go home and see to your broken window and your hot girlfriend.”

He was right. I drove home and when I got back to my apartment, I walked in on quite the scene: Victoria and Larry were sitting in my living room with their feet on my coffee table, listening to Van Morrison, working on their second bottle of wine. Bullet was on the couch, his head on Victoria’s lap. When he saw me, he just lifted his head. Evidently, my dog forgot he wasn’t allowed on the furniture.

When Victoria waved hello with her pinkie finger and her empty wine glass, Larry leaned over to refill it. One thing I was certain of—neither would pass a field sobriety test.

Larry said Troy and Tamika had finished up with the crime scene quickly so he was able to clean up and have maintenance board up the window. He said they’d be back tomorrow to replace it.

“Hey, Larry, thanks again for everything,” I said expecting him to take the hint and leave.

“No problemo,” he said not stirring from his position.

Larry refilled his own glass, and I grabbed the one remaining slice of cold pizza and downed it with a beer. I moved Bullet and sat beside Victoria.

“Did you find who did it?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Who?”

“We’ll see if it sticks.”

“Can’t you tell me names?”

“Not yet,” I said.

“Yeah, Victoria’s been telling me what’s she’s been going through,” Larry said.

“Gotta keep it to yourself, Larry,” I said.

“She’s pretty scared,” he said.

“So, what did you tell Troy Kern?” I asked him.

“That the car was a dark-colored Focus—could have been black—and the guy who shot the arrow was wearing a blue jacket.”

I’d seen a blue jacket thrown over a chair.

“Good, that’ll be helpful.”

“Well, I just hope this is the end of it,” Victoria said.

“So do I,” I said.

“Is it the guy who murdered Kohler and Peterson?” she asked.

“Don’t know yet.” That would be too simple.

A half hour later
Larry’s cell phone rang and from the conversation, I surmised his girlfriend was on her way over, and I knew what that meant. Ten minutes later when Victoria and I went to bed we could hear the rhythmic creek of Larry and his girlfriend doing the horizontal bop overhead. I stared at the ceiling wondering if I’d ever get to sleep.

“Want to?” Victoria asked.

“No, I’m clearly not in the mood,” I said.

“That’s okay. It’s been a big night for both of us. Can you at least hold me?”

She moved in close and I put my arm around her, but every muscle in my body was rigid.

“My boss wants me to write an article for tomorrow’s paper,” she said.

I sat straight up. “What are you talking about?”

“I know what you’re thinking, but
he
called
me
. I told him I’d have to talk to you first, but he’s pushing me to do the story.”

“No, no, no. It could compromise the case.”

“But it’s my decision because it’s happening to me.”

“Shit. Trust me. It’s not a good idea!”

“Okay, okay,” she said. We lay in silence for several minutes before Larry finally got his happy ending.

“I guess he’s not a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kind of guy, is he?” Victoria said giggling. It made me laugh.

“I’ve been tempted to record it for him or take a broom to the ceiling, but I don’t have the heart.”

Soon Victoria and Bullet were having a snoring duet. Sleep wasn’t happening for me—my mind was going two hundred miles an hour. Why would Max Becker shoot an arrow into my building? It must have been about 2:00 a.m. when I dozed off, but my night was filled with vivid, violent dreams filled with pursuits, gunshots, and flying arrows. Max Becker lurked in the shadows. Why the hell was he involved?

Chapter 26

DAY SIXTEEN

T
hud! I opened one lid
a crack to see Bullet’s front paws on the bed, his brown eyes imploring feed me! My eyes spanned to the clock: eight-thirty, Sunday morning—late for Bullet. I got up and went into the kitchen, darkened with the boarded window. I relived last night’s events. Bullet’s nails clicked across the wood floor as he followed me around. When I ran a finger over the hole in the cabinet, he whined nervously, so I bent down to stroke his head and told him everything was okay, even though I didn’t believe that.

I poured food into his bowl, then realized Victoria and her things were gone.
Don’t blame her. She wasn’t so safe here after all.
She hadn’t told me she was leaving—and I knew why. She was going to write the article in the paper. I found my phone and texted her:
Don’t do anything stupid
. She didn’t answer.

I dressed in sweats and drove by the newspaper office. As I thought her car was in the parking lot. Then I drove to the department to find out how last night’s interrogations went. I couldn’t find Ralph or Troy so I went down to the gym to rid myself of the gripping tension in my muscles. Troy was on the treadmill. He was drenched with sweat and stopped when he saw me.

“You look like shit,” I said.

“I’ve been up all night while you were home banging your babe.”

I didn’t take the bait. “What did you find out?”

“Watch the interrogations—see what you think. I’m going home to bed.”

“You can at least tell me the gist.”

“Okay. Becker said he was
hired
to shoot the arrow at the siding near the window as a practical joke. ”

“That’s like saying, I meant to shoot him in the leg, not the chest. So, who hired him?” I asked.

“Said someone
anonymously
sent a letter and offered to pay him two hundred dollars if he ordered the snake from San Antonio and shot the arrow into your building. Half payment was included in the letter along and a Visa pre-paid card for the snake. The rest of it was to be delivered after he successfully fired the arrow.”

“Let me guess. Becker claims he doesn’t know who hired him.”

“Correct, and I couldn’t break him after an all-night session.”

“Does he have the letter and card to prove it?”

“Both destroyed as directed.”

“Of course. Want me to go round with him again this morning?”

“His dad hired Warner so we won’t be getting any more out of him. He denies knowledge of the Bible verse letters.”

“This is all such bullshit.”

Troy shook his head and said, “Agreed, but when you can come up with proof and a motive, let me know. Now, I gotta get some shuteye.”

He left for the locker room and I finished my workout, showered and dressed, then went to watch the interview. It took a good part of my afternoon and nothing Becker said or did convinced me the kid wasn’t telling the truth. Maybe he’s just that stupid to have someone manipulate him like that. I checked his record. He had a few juvie incidents: curfew violations, underage consumption but nothing since he turned eighteen.

I called Becker’s boss at the Quick Stop. He told me Max quit ten days ago.

“For another job?”

“He took a part-time job with the newspaper.”

“The
Register
?”

“Yeah.”

My mind spun with the possibilities. I looked in my notebook. Ten days ago was October twelfth, three days after I’d first interviewed him. Victoria was connected to all this. I gave her a call. She didn’t pick up so I left a message.

“Victoria, I need to talk to you as soon as possible. Looks like you moved out of my place. Look, I don’t blame you, but maybe you should let the department know where you are. Call me. I have something about your case to run by you.”

I also left a message on Troy’s phone letting him know what I’d found out about Becker’s employment. On my way home I stopped to pick up a few things at the grocery store and when I’d finished paying, I recognized Dixie Whitman’s voice behind me.

I greeted her and asked how Jack was doing. “He’s been released from the hospital in Minneapolis. He’s waiting in the car—you should stop and say hello.”

“He’s doing well then?”

“Very well, but he’s not happy. His surgeon says he can’t return to work for another month. I only hope he can stay away from the investigation. He’s stewing it hasn’t been solved yet.”

“We’re trying.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re doing your best. You know Jack—he’s short on patience.”

I nodded good-bye, grabbed my groceries and headed out hoping I could avoid Jack. I didn’t want to discuss why his grandson had been pulled in for questioning. Unfortunately, his black Cadillac was parked next to my truck and as I unlocked my door he unrolled his window. He looked like shit—pale and old.

“Sheriff, nice to see you. You’re looking good.”

His brows furrowed in a frown. “That Kohler’s truck?”

“Yeah.”

“You bought it?”

“Yeah, feels a little weird.”

“I should think so. Driving a victim’s truck before you even solve his murder?”

I felt my face burn.

“Well, I better get going,” I said.

He raised his right hand pointing a finger toward my chest. “Oh, Cal, maybe you should focus on the murder investigation instead of pulling kids in for some harmless pranks.” His eyes narrowed. “Be smarter, Calvin.”

I stared at him for a second then decided not to explain any of it. I got in my car and headed home. When I heard a horn honking, I realized I’d just driven through a red light. Fuck!

My kitchen window
had been replaced and a new wood blind installed, so I went upstairs to thank Larry.

“Larry, while I was gone, how was Victoria? How did she act?”

“She was pretty stressed. Glad I was there to calm her down.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.”

“She’s a real gem. Hang on to that one.”

“Yeah, right.”

I went back to my apartment and called Victoria again. This time she answered.

“Sorry,” she said. “I just noticed you’d left a message.”

“Your things are gone.”

“My dad and boss are insisting I stay at the Webber’s. They say it’ll be safer.”

Robert Webber
was the editor of the paper.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yes. Did they fix your window?”

“It was fixed when I got home today. So, tell me about Max Becker.”

Hesitation, then, “Who?”

“Max Becker.”

“I don’t know him. Why? Is he the one who shot the arrow?”

“Says he was paid to shoot the arrow and purchase the snake.”

“Oh, dear god, who would pay him to do that?”

“I thought you could tell me.”

“Me? I don’t know anything about this Max person. Look, I’m really busy working on something here and have a deadline. Thanks for letting me crash at your place. I’ll see you soon.” She hung up.

On impulse, I called
Adriana to see is she had any insight into her new stepdaughter. She answered on the first ring. “Cal? Is something wrong?”

“How are you?” I asked.

“I’m still on my honeymoon, so I’d better be good,” she said.

The sound of her voice made me temporarily forget why I’d called. How idiotic can I be? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” I hung up and within seconds she phoned me back.

“It’s okay, silly. Is something wrong? Is Victoria okay?” she asked.

“Tell me about her. Any history with a stalker or anything?”

She laughed. “From what Adam tells me, she’s more likely to
be
the stalker. Why?”

“Did you know she’s been receiving threats?”

“Then it’s for real? Adam talked to her last night—but he used the word ‘pranks’ not ‘threats.’ He didn’t seem too worried. Should he be?”

“They are threats and definitely escalating.”

“I’ll tell Adam. Cal, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How did you meet Victoria?”

“She rear-ended me at an intersection and propelled me into another car. The Civic was totaled.”

“She told us she met you at a press conference. You should know about the Minnetonka cop. She met him by backing into him in a parking lot, but when he called it off, she was furious and stalked him. That’s why Adam insisted she move out of the Metro area to get a fresh start. So watch yourself. She also did the same thing to a campus cop while in college. Too much of a coincidence, don’t you think? The girl has a thing for cops.”

“Strange way to go about it. When did you learn this?”

“The day after the wedding.”

“You could have contacted me.”

“I was a little preoccupied with my honeymoon.”

Zing!

“Why weren’t the accidents in her record?” I asked.

“Adam paid the damages, and, in case you haven’t noticed, Victoria uses her sexuality to get what she wants.”

“Do you know the Minnetonka cop’s name?”

“No, sorry. And now I think I’d better get going before Adam returns. I don’t think he’d appreciate me talking to you. He’s a tad jealous.”

I smiled to myself. “Adriana, if you ever need me, you know I’m a phone call away.”

“Same here.”

Victoria’s Aunt Evelyn’s words
came back—
she gets what she wants
. Could she have
orchestrated
this whole thing herself? She could certainly manipulate a kid like Becker to do anything.

I called Ralph and ran my thoughts by him.

“Right now we don’t have a bit of proof, so don’t say a word to her. We can get a warrant, but if what you say is true, I don’t want her to know we’re on to her. We’ll meet with Troy tomorrow morning,” he said.

“She’s staying with the Webbers—Robert works for Lewis.”

“We have to do this right. By the way, Jack’s back home. He called pissed as hell we brought in Zach for questioning. Told him we did it to eliminate his involvement. I thought that might appease him.”

“Not so much. I saw him in the Save Rite parking lot. He said I should focus on the investigation instead of hauling kids in for harmless pranks.”

“Not to worry. What can he do?”

“Fire me?”

“That ain’t gonna happen. By the way, Zach’s prints were on the drug case in the county garage. I told Jack I’d hold it back because it wasn’t pertinent to the murder case.”

“That is the kind of information that could come in handy some day.”

“I think he got my point.”

When I was leaving the building,
I ran into the one person I could trust—Shannon. She was just coming off her shift. I asked her if she wanted to go out for a drink and she suggested I get Bullet and come to her place.

With a few glasses of wine in us, Shannon and I talked into the wee hours of the morning trying to solve the world’s problems. When she was ready for bed, she brought a pillow and blanket and pointed to the couch. Bullet, the traitor, was already asleep upstairs with the boys.