Emergency Reunion Page 14

  He rushed to her and clasped her shoulders, forcing her gaze to meet his.

  “He’s, he’s...crazy.”

  “About you, it seems,” Cole added solemnly. “Do you know why?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” Her voice rose hysterically. “I’ve never seen him before he saved me from that dog, but...but...” She walked into the room and studied the pictures, wrapping her arms around herself as if she’d been plunged into a snowstorm. “Clearly, he’s been watching me for a lot longer than that.”

  “Yeah—” Zeke lifted a lock of hair from a shrinelike table beneath the wall of photos and held it close to hers “—a real nut job. My guess is that his rescues were no coincidence. He’s probably been setting you up just so he can play your hero.”

  She swung her head away from the lock of hair in Zeke’s hand. “That’s crazy.”

  “Yeah.” Zeke motioned to the wall and let out a snort. “That’s what he is.”

  Sherri’s legs wobbled and her arms quivered. She almost looked in worse shape than when he’d found her in the food court. Then she’d been able to fight, but this was too personal, too insidious.

  Cole eased her into a chair. “His obsession didn’t come out of thin air. You saved his life three years ago. Do you remember?”

  “No! And how do you know if I don’t remember?”

  “We saw him talking to his former neighbor when we were following him earlier and after he left, we asked her about him.” Cole reminded Sherri about the call and how she’d revived him. “He was apparently a lot thinner then, which would explain why you didn’t recognize him.”

  “Yes. I think I do remember him now. I was scared out of my wits because I’d never used the defibrillator solo on a real patient before. After I revived him, he looked at me so oddly. It was dark and we were outside. Joe said he probably saw the headlights beaming through my hair.”

  “Well, apparently, he’s made it his mission to look out for you.”

  Sherri relaxed a little. “That’s kind of sweet.”

  “If it weren’t so creepy,” Zeke interjected, snapping photos of the montage.

  Sherri shuddered. “Yeah.”

  “I’d say we’ve got enough here to hold him on a psych evaluation until we can prove he set up all the stunts to play her hero.” Zeke plopped into the desk chair and flicked on the computer. “We might even find his plans on here.”

  “He only gave us permission to look at the photos,” Cole reminded him, not wanting to sabotage a conviction by acquiring evidence without a warrant. Not that he was quite ready to believe Ted was behind everything. How did a mall custodian win the cooperation of so many teenagers?

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t so hard to believe. He could’ve promised to sneak them into the movie theater the back way or given them tips on how to beat mall security for their own exploits. But how’d he convince some Rottweiler owner to sic his dog on Sherri? Let alone know when she’d be the one to respond to a 9-1-1 call?

  Of course, who was to say there hadn’t been other calls that he’d opted not to exploit because another team had responded those times?

  “Jackpot.” Zeke motioned them over to the computer. “Look at these.”

  The screen had thumbnails of more than fifty photos.

  Sherri squinted at the screen and shivered. “This was yesterday. I had a feeling someone was watching me.”

  Cole fisted his hand. He’d been watching her while on his patrols yesterday, too. But clearly not closely enough.

  Zeke clicked on Slideshow and, one at a time, the photos filled the screen. Ones of Sherri walking downtown with Jake’s wife, coming out of the bakery with her, talking to her outside the fire station, talking with Cole outside the sheriff’s office. “Look—” Zeke pointed to the bench in front of the sheriff’s office “—he even caught me watching you in that one.”

  Two more photos of their argument followed in quick succession, each from different angles. “Stop on that one,” Cole said. “Isn’t that Joe watching from outside the ambulance base with Dan?”

  “Yeah, he’d been paying the guys a visit. He was already there when I stopped by. He couldn’t have known I’d show up, because I hadn’t planned to. But I’m not surprised they stepped outside to watch the show after the way I stormed out.”

  Cole took consolation in the self-denigration in her voice as she looked back at their argument now. “In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that Eddie was at the mall at the time of the 9-1-1 call and subsequent bomb threat.”

  Her eyes widened, then searched his. Her expression morphed from surprised to unreadable. “Do you think he was involved?”

  “He claimed he was hanging with friends. I’ll have to trace his movements back through every video feed that picked him up to decide if it’s the truth. I’ll also show him the stills of the five teens leaving the mall. Ask if he can identify them. Gauge his reaction.”

  Zeke shook his head. “You’d better let me do that. Your judgment’s tainted.”

  Cole restrained a frustrated sigh. He was probably right, but Cole didn’t like the gleam that crept into Zeke’s eyes or the way his lips edged up as if it would be a pleasure to prove how tainted.

  “We already know he’s friends with Ted,” Zeke stated.

  “Eddie is friends with him?” Fresh outrage simmered in Sherri’s voice, as if she thought this was yet something else they’d kept from her.

  Cole scowled at Zeke. “I don’t know anything of the kind. How do you figure?”

  “After the dog attack, when you and Eddie came out of the woods, he caught a ride into town with Ted.”

  “Eddie stuck out his thumb, and Ted picked him up.” Cole didn’t bother to hide his irritation with Zeke for reading more into the scenario.

  “Or so he’d like you to believe...”

  * * *

  “I’m not crazy!” Ted yelled as Cole supervised his transfer to the psych ward. “There’s no law against taking pictures, is there? If she doesn’t want me taking pictures I’ll stop. I swear I will.”

  “I’m sure she’d appreciate that,” Cole said.

  As the orderly wheeled Ted into a secure room, he grabbed Cole’s hand. “You don’t believe I’d hurt her, do you? She saved my life. I’d never hurt her. I was watching out for her.”

  Not at liberty to question him without his lawyer present, Cole restricted his response to a nod and pried his hand free of Ted’s grip.

  “It’s that other deputy you should be investigating. He’s the crazy one, thinking I’d sic a dog on Sherri just so I could rescue her. What took him so long to get to the scene, huh?” Ted scratched his fingers up and down the arm of the wheelchair. “I heard the call on my police band at home. Heard him respond right away, too. Said he was on his way. But I still got there before him. Why’s that, huh?” Ted grew more agitated, rocking in his chair. “Did he tell you I asked him that when he questioned me after the attack?”

  Cole hid his shock. Not surprised that his partner had neglected to mention being quizzed about his slow response time, but that he hadn’t clued in to the oddity himself. He’d been at the coffee shop across the street when Zeke phoned to report the 9-1-1 call. There was no way he should’ve beat Zeke to the scene, let alone by more than a five-minute margin.

  “I didn’t think so,” Ted went on. “He’s a slimy one, that one. You can see it in his eyes. Sure, I know some about dogs. Enough to know Sherri’s partner was an idiot to tell her to make eye contact and hold out her hand. But what does he think? I’m a ventriloquist and threw a whistle out to those woods to get the dog to run off? I’m telling you, he’s the nutcase.”

  “I assure you we’ll conduct a thorough investigation and appreciate your cooperation.” Cole left Ted to the psychiatrist’s care and headed back to the station. Rationally, he knew the man was lashing out, looking for someone else to blame, but Cole wasn’t ready to overlook Zeke’s slow response time to the dog attack, either.

&nb
sp; As Cole pulled into the office parking lot, Zeke barreled out of the building. “You’re here. Good. We just got IDs on two of the teens in the video surveillance from one of the high school teachers. They live in a foster home out on Fifth. We need to hurry if we’re going to catch them before they leave for school.”

  “Hop in.” Cole flipped on the sirens and careened out of the lot.

  “You might want to kill the sirens before we get to Fifth,” Zeke suggested. “If they think we’re coming for them, they might make a run for it.”

  Deciding the kids probably already had started walking to school if they didn’t intend to ditch classes, Cole cut the sirens and headed to Fifth from the direction of the school.

  “There they are!” Zeke pointed to three teens—two males and a female—who took off the other way the instant they spotted the cruiser.

  Cole whipped the car past them and ramped onto the curb. Before he’d rammed the shifter into Park, Zeke’s door flew open. “They’re getting away!”

  The threesome cut across a yard.

  Cole called for backup and sprinted for the next lot to try to cut them off. He hit the next street, two strides ahead of Zeke and three behind the slowest kid. The kid’s baggy pants slid farther down his backside, tangling with his unlaced court shoes, tripping him up. Cole snagged the back of the shorter kid’s shirt before he face planted the sidewalk. Zeke puffed after the second male and, catching him by the coat, slammed his face into the yard’s chain-link fence.

  “We didn’t do nothin’.” Zeke’s five-foot-six, jock-type kid griped, fighting against Zeke’s hold.

  Zeke wrenched the kid’s arm higher up his back. “Sure, that’s why you ran.” He patted down the kid more roughly than necessary and hissed who knows what kind of warnings in his ear as he turned the kid’s pockets inside out.

  Cole directed his quaking kid to hold his hands against the fence. He looked too young to fit Sherri’s description of the suspects in the mall attack. He’d wet his pants, and Cole almost felt sorry for him...until Cole’s fingers closed around a vial in the kid’s pocket. A morphine vial.

  Cole held the vial in front of the kid’s face—a face that looked too much like his brother’s I-just-want-the-kids-to-like-me look of not so many years ago. If only he’d recognized the signs then, he might’ve stopped Eddie’s downward spiral. “Where’d you get this?”

  The boy pressed his lips into a tight line and dropped his gaze to the dirt. No snitch.

  “This kid sell it to you?” Zeke seethed, shoving his suspect toward Cole’s.

  The boy vigorously shook his head, his gaze not lifting past his friend’s chest. Although Cole suspected the kid was no friend. Cole gentled his voice. “What’s your name?”

  “Jimmy. Jimmy Myers,” he said, his voice no louder than a mouse’s squeak.

  Zeke snorted in disgust and gave his suspect a shake. “Don’t think a snot-nosed kid’s testimony is gonna save you this time. We got you on tape.” Zeke kicked the kid’s foot. “Right down to those fancy shoes.”

  Two more cruisers pulled up, one with the girl who’d outrun them already socked in the backseat. Three of the four deputies stepped out of their cars. “We can take in this lot if you want to pick up their foster mother. Save you dragging them back to your car.”

  Zeke handed his suspect off to the deputy and had a few words with the girl in their backseat.

  “He didn’t sell me the vial,” Jimmy said, loud enough for the other kid to hear, no doubt a last-ditch effort to keep a shred of dignity. Was that what Eddie’s denial had been, too? Did he really still care what Cole thought of him? Cole hoped so, because then he might have a fighting chance of turning him around.

  Zeke returned to Jimmy and got in his face. “You’re not doing him or that girl any favors by covering for them, you know. He doesn’t care about you or that girl. He’s going to get her addicted, and three years from now she’ll be turning tricks to pay for her next high. What if that was your little sister?” He shoved the white-faced kid into the back of the second cruiser. “Do you want that on your conscience?”

  “Take it easy,” Cole said after Zeke shut the door. “That’s a lot to put on a kid.”

  Zeke drilled Cole with a scowl so vehement the whites of his eyes flamed red. “Maybe if you’d put it on your kid brother, he wouldn’t be such a mess up. Ever think of that?”

  Cole blew out a breath. Yeah. Every hour of every day.

  THIRTEEN

  Sherri strained to slow her choppy breathing at the sight of Dan exiting the room across the corridor from the sheriff’s office. “Is it them?” she asked him as he passed.

  Cole silenced him with a raised hand before Dan could respond. “You need to decide for yourself. There are more teens in the lineup than our suspects. We need you to identify the ones who attacked you.” Cole escorted her into the tiny dark room.

  Catching sight of the lineup of teen boys on the other side of the glass, she said, “They can’t see me, can they?”

  “No,” Cole reassured. “Take your time.”

  “Number two. I recognize those eyes and pug nose and that scar on his lip.” She scanned the faces of three and four and gasped when she reached the one on the end. “What’s Eddie doing in the lineup? He didn’t attack us. I would have told you.”

  Cole glanced past her shoulder.

  She spun on her heel as a deputy stepped out of the shadows. “He fit the age and description and was at the mall at the time of the incident. We needed to make sure.”

  “I understand, of course.”

  Next they brought in a line of five teen girls. Sherri studied each in turn and as she shifted her gaze to number five her heart jolted. The girl seemed to be looking right at her. Reflexively, she pressed her palm to her abdomen, remembering how viciously the girl had stomped on it. “Number five,” she said, hating how her voice cracked.

  Cole squeezed her shoulder. “You okay?”

  She nodded without meeting his gaze, not sure she could hold herself together if she saw the compassion she knew would be there. She didn’t know why God was allowing all these bad things to happen to her, but she thanked Him every day for bringing Cole back into her life to help her through.

  “We appreciate your coming in, Miss Steele,” the other deputy cut in. “We know this must be difficult for you. If you could spare us a few more minutes, we have collected some high school yearbooks and mug shots we’d like you to look through to see if you can identify any of the other assailants.”

  “Yes. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

  Cole led her to a conference room, empty save for the stack of yearbooks sitting in the middle of a long table. He pulled out a chair for her. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Tea?”

  The reserve in his voice, the stiffness of his movements bothered her more than it should have. This was his work. No matter how much he might care about her, he needed to treat her as the witness and victim she was, or they’d probably pull him off the case altogether. She sat down and pulled the top book from the stack. “A glass of water would be nice. Thanks.”

  He slipped out, closing the door behind him.

  Two books later she rubbed the grit from her eyes as he returned empty-handed. His hair poked every which way as if he’d been raking his fingers through it. “Out of water?” she asked with a hint of amusement.

  “Oh.” He started back out.

  “No, no, it’s okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

  He walked to the window and gazed outside, even though there was nothing to see but a brick wall. “The two kids you IDed confessed.”

  “That’s great.”

  His expression looked pained.

  “It’s not great?”

  “I’m not sure.” Cole straddled the chair at the end of the table. “They claim they don’t know who the other three were and both fingered a mall custodian as the guy who put them up to it.”

  “Ted?”

  “We showed each o
f them a selection of staff photos and he is who they both pointed to, yes.”

  “So what’s bothering you?”

  “It’s too neat. They claim Ted supplied them with the smoke bombs and the spray paint to black out the security cameras.”

  “Seems believable to me. A guy who works in a mall day in and day out is bound to be able to figure out how to avoid security if he’s paying attention.”

  “Sure, but we can’t find any evidence that Ted made any such purchases or built the smoke bombs.”

  “So it’s their word against his.”

  “Basically, and the photos of you in his apartment don’t help his case any.”

  Sherri splayed her fingers on the tabletop. “Well, I’ve got to admit that having someone obsessed with the desire to be my hero is easier to stomach than the thought of Joe or Luke’s father or who knows who wanting to terrorize me. Don’t you think?”

  He gave a one-shouldered shrug, not looking too convinced.

  “Why aren’t you happier about this? With Ted locked up in the psych ward and half his minions off the street, I should be safe now, right?”

  Cole reached across the table and covered her hand. “I want to believe that, Sherri, but I don’t like what my gut is telling me.”

  “What’s it telling you?”

  Cole glanced at his watch. “Did you have any luck with the books?”

  She blinked, thrown by his avoidance of the question. “Not yet. I only got through two.”

  “We can take the rest with us. Let’s go.” He scooped up the remaining books and opened the door. “Give me a sec.” He popped his head into the sheriff’s office. “I’m driving Miss Steele home. She’s taking the rest of the books to look at.” He prodded her down the corridor toward the back door.

  “Cole, what’s going on? I don’t mind looking at the rest of those here.”

  “We can’t talk here,” Cole whispered. Instead of steering her toward the cruiser he’d picked her up in two hours ago, he steered her to his truck. “Are your folks home?”

  “My mom is. Why?”

  “I’d rather not talk where we could be overheard.” Cole backed out of his parking spot and headed south, his gaze straying to his mirrors every few seconds.