I bolted out of the hospital and headed for the sheriff’s office only a few blocks away. The Park County deputies had apparently come across the assailant while he was trying to hide his broken-down motorcycle in the tall grasses off the highway. Apparently, a few of my bullets had hit the mark—his rear tire was blown out and one bullet grazed his left calf. He was shit out of luck. He had no wheels, and he wasn’t capable of getting far on foot. He was passed off to the deputies in White Sulphur Springs, had his leg addressed, and was sitting in an interrogation room. The guy was a trapped rat, and we would finally solve the case. I was eager to share the news with Renz, but he was in surgery, so I made a quick call to Taft as I drove.
“Boss, I only have a minute to talk. Renz was shot in the shoulder by our perp, but he’ll be okay.” I pulled the phone away from my ear as she cursed. Then I continued. “Maureen, I promise you, Renz will be fine. The sheriff in Park County has the projectiles from Tara and Byron. We’ll have the one from Renz’s shoulder soon, and they all need to be compared to one another at the crime lab here in White Sulphur Springs.”
“How fast can they get that done?”
“I don’t know since the slugs aren’t in my possession yet.”
“Find out. If it’s more than twenty-four hours, have them sent express delivery to us. I can have the results in three hours.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something. Sheriff Burke should have gotten the shell casings from the rifle that shot the cougar. I’ll find that out in a few minutes. He was supposed to drop them off at the county crime lab to check for prints. The best news is that the guy who shot at us is already in custody. We’ll print him, and if those prints match the ones on the casings, if there are any, I’m pretty sure this character is going down for murder and attempted murder. We could wrap this case by tomorrow if everything goes our way.”
“Thank God. Call me back the second you know something,” Taft said.
“Roger that.” I hung up, parked, and ran into the building.
The receptionist waved me through. “Sheriff Burke is expecting you, Agent Monroe. Go on in.”
I rushed into his office, and a grin spread across Clay Burke’s face. “I think we’ve got the culprit, Jade.”
“Damn straight we do.”
“First things first, how’s Lorenzo?”
I swatted the air jokingly. “He’s tough as nails. He’ll be fine. Actually, the doctor didn’t want to remove the slug, but we told him we needed it for evidence. Speaking of that, did you get the casings?”
“Yep. The crime lab is printing them now, and we’ve already printed the perp who shot Agent DeLeon. Also, Sheriff Johnson is having a deputy drop off the slugs from Tara and Byron. They should arrive soon.”
I let out a relieved sigh. “I’m guessing the prints will match. Now all we need is for those prints to be in the database. I don’t have any doubts that the slugs will match too. Things are finally starting to turn around.”
“So, how do you want to handle him?” Sheriff Burke stood, tipped his head to the left, and wagged his finger at me. “Come on. Let’s go watch him squirm.”
“Gladly.”
We stepped into the observation room and sat down. Looking through the one-way glass, I stared at a guy who looked to be in his mid-thirties. He had dark slicked-back hair and an average build, just like Tara had described the man she’d seen in the woods with Jane. It had to be him.
“Has he said anything?”
“Nope, not a single word. No name, no nothing. Completely tight-lipped.”
“Hmm. He’s been processed, though? Prints and photo?”
“Both.”
“Maybe I can scare him into talking. I mean, he’s already on the hook for trying to kill Renz and me. He didn’t have a wallet or an ID on his person?”
“Nothing.”
“Damn it, that seems to be a common theme with these people. That Malcolm character didn’t either. I can’t pretend that Jane identified him by the picture because I wouldn’t be calling her Jane. I’d know her real name.”
“But Tara Philips saw him. You can say she identified him as the man who was with Jane and possibly as the man who killed Byron.”
“That might work,” I said. “He has no idea that she’s still sedated, but unless he’s in the system, we still won’t know his name.”
“Until Jane wakes up.”
“And I hope to God that she does.” I pointed my chin at the man sitting on the other side of the glass. “Shall we?”
The sheriff nodded. “There’s no time like the present.”
Together, we entered the interview room. I glanced at the corner-mounted camera to make sure the light was flashing. I wanted everything on record. That man was going down no matter what, but we needed other names and the location of the ranch. There was no way in hell he was working alone, and we all knew it.
I took a seat across from him, and Clay stood against the wall at the man’s back.
“So, we actually meet face to face.”
He snickered but remained silent.
“Sucks that you weren’t a good-enough shot to kill Agent DeLeon and myself, right?”
No response.
“What’s your name? Mr. Sport Bike Driver or something else?”
“Go to hell.”
I chuckled. “So you can talk. That’s even better. Tara Philips has already identified you as the man in the woods who slammed the young lady in the head two days ago. She’s also identified you as the man who shot up their car and killed Byron, her husband.”
“You don’t know anything, and I don’t believe your bullshit story.”
“Really, why’s that? Did I get it backward? If you weren’t the shooter, then that must make you the driver. So who was the shooter?”
Silence.
“Well, we have the rifle’s shell casings with your prints on them. Got them from the mountaintop. You know when you shot the cougar that attacked Malcolm?” I watched his face go pale and knew I’d hit a nerve. “Wondering how we know Malcolm’s name, aren’t you?” I chuckled. “Go ahead and keep wondering. It doesn’t take too long to figure out names, and with that, we can find out where they live. I can only wonder what we’ll find when we locate the ranch.” I grinned and rattled my fingertips on the table to annoy him. “We also have the slugs taken from Mr. and Mrs. Philips as well as the slug that was just removed from my partner’s shoulder. I’m sure they’ll match too. That, my friend, implicates you in murder and attempted murder of federal agents. Now the question is do you have a police jacket? If you do, your goose is cooked.”
He spewed his disdain for me. “And if I don’t?”
I shrugged. “We’ll throw you in the slammer indefinitely anyway, name or no name. Makes no difference to me. What my gut is telling me, though, is that you’re only a tiny cog in the bigger wheel. A minion, patsy, gopher—you know what I mean. It’s obvious you aren’t smart enough to be running any kind of operation as sophisticated as this. There’s a top dog you report to, and when he finds out that we have you in custody, well, I can only imagine what he’ll do to you if we let you go. Maybe he’ll brand you.”
A look of shock crossed his face.
“What? You don’t think we know all about the brands, or do you have one too?” I cocked my head and smiled. “Hell, I bet jail is the safest place for you right now.”
He grunted and stared straight ahead.
“One more question. What happened to the shooter who killed Byron Philips?”
“You’re wasting your time, bitch. I’m not telling you a damn thing.”
“Sure. Have it your way. He’s all yours, Sheriff Burke. I hope you have community cells and not individual ones.” I chuckled. “He looks like he can use a friend right now, if you know what I mean.”
“I do, and I have just the group of friends in mind for him.”
I walked out with Sheriff Burke and let the door slam behind us. “Have your men check for a brand on his left hip when he changes into his jumpsuit. Let me know what they discover.”
“Will do.”