Chase pushed open the door leading to the staircase that would take them to the children’s ministry area.
He stepped back to allow Zoe to enter first, grateful he had a reprieve from divulging the reasons behind his hesitation and his anger at God. He didn’t want to discuss any of it. Especially not with Zoe.
His job was to keep Zoe safe. To do that he needed her to trust him. Knowing he’d failed to protect his own family wouldn’t instill a lot of trust. He wouldn’t be able to effectively protect her and little Kylie if she doubted him.
Guilt swamped Chase, making his chest tight. Rubbing at the spot over his heart where the pain lived, he took several breaths hoping to alleviate the pressure building inside of him.
Stay calm.
The image of the white sedan riding the truck’s bumper had his fists clenching. It could have been nothing more than an over-aggressive driver. Or it could have been someone with a sinister agenda. If Chase hadn’t turned into the church’s drive, would the sedan have tried to run them off the road? Chase hadn’t seen the license plate, but he made note of the make and model of the car.
As they descended the stairs to the basement area, Zoe said, “Please, know that you can talk to me. I’m a good listener.”
“Sharing isn’t part of the job,” he said through clenched teeth.
They entered the area used for the children’s ministries. The large space housed stacks of chairs in the corner. A drum set, guitar stand and piano sat in front of a picture window where light streamed into the room. In the center, several long tables had been set up. A mishmash of boxes and baby paraphernalia covered the tops and the floor. “Let’s just get this done.”
Zoe gave him a hard, censuring look before she pressed her lips together and focused her attention on the donations.
Chase stood by the exit doors, allowing Zoe and the pastor to pack several boxes with items she deemed appropriate.
“Thank you, Pastor Jerome,” Zoe said as she stacked the boxes beside Chase. “These will be put to good use.”
“I’m glad.” Pastor Jerome smiled. “I’m sure more donations will be coming in over the next few days. Now that I know what you’re needing, I’ll take the liberty of putting those things aside and send the rest to a local charity.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Zoe said. She glanced at Chase and raised an eyebrow. “We can stop by again later this week, yes?”
Chase’s smile was tight, the muscles of his face pulling as he said, “I’m sure we can make arrangements.” He looked at the stack she’d made of boxes filled with clothes and toys and other baby paraphernalia. “Is this everything?”
“For now,” she replied. “We’ll have to make a couple of trips to your pickup.”
“I’ll bring the truck to this side entrance,” Chase told her. “Pastor, can you stay with her for a few moments?”
Pastor Jerome nodded. “Of course.”
Confident Zoe and the pastor would be safe for the time being, Chase hurried out of the building. He took a few deep breaths, easing the constricting band around his heart before heading to the front parking lot.
The hairs at his nape quivered. He paused, searching for the source of his sudden acute unease.
A white sedan, like the one that had trailed them to the church, idled at the end of the parking lot. The tinted windows kept him from seeing the driver. He headed for the car.
The sedan shot forward, the wheels squealing on the parking lot pavement and swerved, heading for the exit. Chase noted the plate number as the sedan drove out of the lot, turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
He’d run the plates when he returned to the station. He sent off a text to his team requesting they meet him in an hour.
Shaking off the disquiet and anger, he quickly drove his father’s truck from the front parking lot to the rear side door. He, Zoe and the pastor loaded the boxes into the back bed in no time. Chase kept an alert eye out of any signs of the white sedan.
“Zoe, I understand you’re heading up the reunion committee,” the pastor said before they could climb into the vehicle.
Chase’s gaze snapped to Zoe.
“I am,” she affirmed.
Narrowing his gaze on the woman, Chase refrained from saying she’d neglected to tell him she was in charge of the reunion committee. A detail he needed to know.
“I hope the naysayers aren’t getting you down,” the pastor said. “This town needs some rejuvenation and healing. I plan to bring up the reunion at this coming Sunday’s sermon. A last push to get people to sign up.”
“I would appreciate that, Pastor,” Zoe said. “Right now, we have a very sparse attendee list.”
The pastor turned his gaze to Chase, “Will you be attending with Zoe for Sunday’s service?”
Chase’s heart thumped in his chest. Would Zoe insist on going? Probably. “Most likely.” Would it be rude if he wore earplugs?
Zoe gave the pastor a hug. Chase held open the passenger door while Zoe climbed in.
Before he could start the engine, she put a hand on his arm. “Will you really come with me on Sunday?”
“I’m committed to protecting you,” he said. “Where you go, I go.”
She gave a satisfied smile. “Then we’ll be going.”
Biting back his reluctance, he started the engine and drove toward home, while staying alert for any trouble. Namely a white sedan. “You didn’t mention you were heading up the reunion committee.”
She shrugged. “Is it relevant?”
“Everything is relevant unless I say it’s not,” he barked.
“Sorry.” She tilted her head. “You’re in a mood.”
He took a deep breath, reining in the swirling emotions going into the church building had stirred. “For me to protect you, I need to know everything about your life. Including your involvement in this multigenerational reunion. The pastor said there are naysayers. I’ve heard rumblings, but I didn’t realize the seriousness of the objections.”
He’d had more pressing issues with the RMK. They’d theorized that maybe the announcement of the reunion had prodded the RMK out from under whatever rock he’d been hibernating beneath. “I need you to make a list of those who’ve opposed the reunion.”
“I can do that.” She turned away, keeping her face toward the window. “Though many of the negative comments have been posted on the reunion’s social media page for everyone to see.”
Chase regretted the harshness of his tone, but she didn’t understand. An anxious flutter started low in his belly and worked through his chest, compelling him to say, “Look, God and I have not been on speaking terms for a long time.”
She faced him. Her curious stare was a palpable force.
He slanted her a glance, noting the empathy on her face.
“Something happened,” she said softly.
Understatement. “You could say that.” He didn’t want to talk about this. Not to her, not to anyone. But she would find out soon enough.
She’d see the pictures of Elsie and Tommy in the house. Zoe would wonder. Best to nip her curiosity in the bud now.
“I worked in DC as a field agent for the FBI for most of my career,” he told her. “Three years ago, Dash and I thwarted a bomb meant to blow up the National Art Gallery. The bomber escaped. Then he targeted me. Only he ended up killing my wife and two-year-old son.” Pain lanced through his heart. “It should have been me, not them.”
“Oh, Chase,” she said with a breathy sigh of sympathy. Her soothing hand lay warm against his arm. “That’s horrible.”
He waited for the platitudes. For her to say he shouldn’t blame God. That everything happened for a reason. All the things everyone else had said to him at the time when he was in the throes of grieving. Now, he endured the pitying glances and stares.
Instead, Zoe stayed silent, sitting with him in his misery.
And he was nearly brought to tears.
Zoe’s heart ached for Chase and the tragedy he’d experienced. No wonder he was mad at God.
And he blamed himself.
He carried guilt like an anvil around his neck, thinking he should have died instead of his family. None of them should’ve died. It was devastating that life could unfold in such horrible ways. That evil could operate unchecked at times. But deep in her heart, she knew the tragedies of the world didn’t negate God’s sovereignty or His goodness.
But the knowing didn’t make the pain hurt any less.
She couldn’t fathom losing Kylie. Fear, dark and ugly, twisted in her gut. She sent up a plea for protection for her and Kylie, and peace for Chase.
The urge to hug him and offer some sort of comfort filled her, but she wasn’t sure any gesture would be welcomed. Or that she should even make the gesture. Stepping over personal boundaries wouldn’t be smart. She needed to keep an emotional as well as physical distance. Because anything resembling more than friendship would leave her open to heartache. She’d given a man her heart only to have him stomp on it. Better for her to not risk that sort of hurt again.
She settled for saying, “Thank you for sharing your past with me.”
He gave a sharp nod as he pulled into the back parking lot of the Elk Valley police station. “I need that list of naysayers as soon as possible.”
Tears clogged her throat despite her best effort to keep them at bay. He was hurting and grieving. There was nothing she could do to help him besides pray.
She didn’t want to take on his pain. She had enough of her own. But how would she stay immune when they would be living under the same roof?
Chase tucked Zoe into the Elk Valley police chief’s office. It was a comfortable space with a leather captain’s chair behind the neatly organized desk. Two leather armchairs faced the desk. Zoe sat in one. She had pen and paper in hand to make a list of those in town who had expressed their opposition to having a multigenerational reunion.
As he headed to the conference room, he forced his mind to stay on task as he mulled over what Zoe had told him about the phone call right before the house exploded. A prank and unrelated? Or was the bomber making sure she was home and reveling in what was to come?
Most likely the latter.
“I assume you and your task force will be taking over the investigation into the bombing of Zoe Jenkins’s home?” Police Chief Nora Quan asked as she fell into step with him. She was an impressive woman in her mid-fifties.
“I think we should work together,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind that I put Zoe in your office. I need to update my team.”
“Not at all,” Nora said.
Even though he had his boss’s approval to use task force resources, he didn’t want to overstep with Nora. “Zoe’s the sister of one of the first victims. Our investigations intersect.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Nora said, slanting him a glance beneath her dark bangs. “Just want to know what the expectations are. After an arsonist terrorized the town during the summer, the last thing we need is a bomber on the loose.”
He couldn’t agree more. Elk Valley had seen its fair share of tragedy and violence lately. They’d caught serial arsonist Bobby Linton last summer, who’d burned a path through town seeking revenge on people who’d wronged him in some way.
Now this morning’s incident. Was this someone who felt wronged by Zoe? Her ex-husband? Or the RMK targeting the sister of one of his victims?
“The sooner we close this case and determine if the bomber is someone disgruntled by the reunion, or the RMK, the better,” Nora continued. “If the bomber isn’t the RMK, the reunion could be a powder keg that could bring the Rocky Mountain Killer back to town.”
“Agreed.” Chase stopped at the door of the conference room, where he’d arranged to meet the task force. They’d responded to the group text he’d sent. “I’ll need extra patrols to help protect Zoe and her little girl.”
Nora nodded. “Whatever you need. Tell the desk sergeant and he’ll make it happen.”
“Perfect.” He didn’t mention he’d already made the request before he and Zoe left the house.
Nora gave him a nod and headed down the hall, leaving Chase at the conference room entrance. He pulled open the door and the scent of freshly brewed coffee had him making a beeline to the coffee carafe. Several team members already sat at the conference table. Some of the K-9 handlers had their dogs at their feet while others, like Chase normally did, kept their dogs at their desks. Though being at the station without Dash was odd for Chase. Like he’d left an important piece of himself behind.
After pouring himself a cup, he settled into a seat at the head of the table. “How did the canvass go?”
Ashley leaned forward. Her dog, a male black lab named Ozzy, rose to his haunches at her movement. She settled him with a hand to his neck. “We knocked on doors up and down the street. No one recalled seeing anything suspicious.”
“We had several door camera videos sent to Isla,” Rocco said, referring to the team’s tech analyst, Isla Jimenez. Rocco’s chocolate lab, who specialized in arson detection, lifted her head at the sound of her handler’s voice.
“Good,” Chase replied. “Hopefully, Isla will spot something we can use.”
Isla was good at her job. And an asset to the team. One of his recruits. He hated that she had been hitting roadblocks in her attempt to adopt a toddler named Enzo. It wasn’t right. He made a mental note to look into the situation personally. Things had escalated for Isla recently when an arsonist had set fire to her home—with her inside. Despite their initial thinking, it wasn’t the work of the serial arsonist from last summer, but someone else. Someone who’d been messing with Isla and making life difficult for her over the last eight months. Now that Chase was back from Utah, he’d devote some time to investigating who had it out for her.
Turning his attention to the other important case the task force was working on, he asked the room at large, “Update on Evan Carr and Ryan York?”
Silence met his question. He raised an eyebrow.
Meadow, who’d left Grace, her female vizsla, kenneled at her desk, said, “We’re still beating the bushes.”
“Not the news I was hoping for,” Chase said. “Any more sightings of Cowgirl?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Bennett stated. He, too, had left his K-9 partner kenneled at his desk. “Thankfully, the puppies are healthy. Liana is working on potty training and is doing assessments to see if they will make good therapy dogs.”
Liana Lightfoot, dog trainer extraordinaire, had been working with Cowgirl as a compassion K-9 before the dog’s abduction. Chase had seen firsthand how devastated Liana had been when Cowgirl disappeared. He was confident in her ability to train Cowgirl’s puppies.
Last month, while tracking the RMK in Utah, they’d discovered a crate full of puppies with a note from the killer. The words were etched in Chase’s mind.
For the MCK9 Task Force. I can’t easily elude you and care for them. But I’m keeping their mom, Killer. Oh, and Trevor Gage: you’ll be dead soon enough.
Anger burned low in Chase’s gut, tempered by the knowledge that the RMK held the lives of dogs in higher esteem than people. The RMK had renamed Cowgirl and had placed a pink sparkly collar on her according to the reports they’d received from witnesses.
Switching back to the new case, Chase said, “Regarding the bombing this morning, I’ve been given the green light for our team to take the lead on the investigation since Zoe Jenkins is in charge of the Elk Valley High reunion. We suspect that might have triggered the RMK to kill again. It’s the tenth anniversary of the original murders.” His gaze landed on each member of his team. “It’s possible that the bombing isn’t connected to the RMK. But I don’t believe in coincidences. Zoe Jenkins was targeted for a reason.”
“Are we operating with the thought that RMK is now targeting the families of the victims?” Meadow asked.
“It’s a possibility. Until we know for sure, we should put the families on alert,” Chase said. “But we have another possibility. Zoe is making a list of people who have expressed displeasure at the idea of the reunion. Ashley, Rocco, I want you to interview everyone on Zoe’s list. And look at the reunion’s social media. Apparently, there’s been some negative comments. The incident today may have to do with the reunion and not the RMK.”
“You think someone would be so against the reunion they’d try to kill Zoe and her kid?” Ian asked. “That’s cold.”
“People have done horrible things with less motive,” Chase reminded them.
“Do you think the reunion committee members are in danger?” Rocco asked. “Sadie’s on the committee.” There was no mistaking the concern in his tone for his fiancée. Sadie Owens was a divorced mom with a three-year-old son named Myles. Rocco had been the one to protect Sadie and Myles when the serial arsonist—known locally as the Fire Man—had targeted them over the summer.
“I wouldn’t think so unless they are connected to one of the victims in a crucial way,” Chase assured him.
Rocco nodded, appearing deep in thought.
Chase was aware Sadie did have a connection to Aaron Anderson, one of the original victims. They’d dated briefly in high school, but Sadie’s interviews with the task force last March, and her brevity of her time with Aaron, hadn’t given the team the idea that she could be a suspect or a target.
Chase cleared his throat. “Zoe also received a phone call right before the explosion. Weird laughter. Sounded like a recording. No idea about gender.” Chase looked at Meadow. “Can you have Isla run Zoe’s phone records to see if we can find where the call originated?”
“Will do,” Meadow said.
“Ian, would you do a deep dive into Zoe’s ex-husband, Garrett Watson?” Chase asked. “Find out if he has an alibi for the time of the explosion.”
“On it,” Ian said.
Focusing on Bennett, Chase said, “Reach out to Ophelia and Kyle. See how quickly they can get here. I want Ophelia to take a look at the remnants of the bomb once the fire department releases the evidence.”
Ophelia Clarke was a forensic specialist based in New Mexico. Recently, she helped on a case and Chase had been so impressed by her, he’d asked her to be on call with the task force and she’d happily agreed. Kyle West was a fellow FBI agent and K-9 handler from the New Mexico bureau. He was on the MCK9 task force and specialized in tracking serial killers with his partner, a male coonhound named Rocky who specialized in cadaver detection. Kyle and Ophelia, his fiancée, were operating from Santa Fe.
“Got it,” Bennett said. “I can also coordinate with the Elk Valley Fire Department. If the bomb was homemade, the perpetrator might have bought supplies in town. I can check the stores.”
“Good idea.” Chase pulled the task force laptop in front of him. He quickly did a DMV search on the license plate number of the sedan he’d seen in the church parking lot. Surprised, he sat back. The car was registered to Doctor Tyson Webb, Kylie’s pediatrician. What was the doctor doing trailing them and then showing up at the church when they’d only just left him at the clinic?
“Boss?” Rocco said.
Giving himself a mental shake, he brought up a video chat screen and then sent a message to Hannah Scott, their team member providing protection to Trevor Gage.
His mind wandered back to the doctor. There had to be a reasonable explanation as to why Tyson had been at the church in the middle of the day. Perhaps dropping off donations for Zoe and Kylie? But why follow them and then leave only to return? What was he playing at? “Bennett, could you check into the background of Doctor Tyson Webb?”
“Sure,” Bennett said. “Something we should know?”
“Zoe and I stopped at the Elk Valley Community church on the way here. We were followed very closely by a white sedan.” Chase told them. “Then later I saw the same car was in the parking lot. When I approached, the driver took off. It’s probably nothing, but—”
“Better safe than sorry,” Bennett finished.
A few minutes later, Hannah’s face appeared on the laptop’s video screen. Chase turned the computer so that Hannah had a view of the room while he sent the video stream to the large monitor attached to the conference room wall.
“Good morning, everyone,” Hannah said, her bright green eyes sparkled.
A chorus of greetings followed. Chase cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Hannah, how are you and Trevor managing at the safe house?”
A man appeared over Hannah’s shoulder. Trevor cocked an eyebrow. “We’re fine.”
Hannah made a face. “Antsy to get back to our lives.”
Chase understood. Getting Trevor to go into hiding had taken Hannah almost being killed. But Chase would imagine sitting on the sidelines was hard for both of them. The idea that had surfaced earlier reared up again, half-formed. “Trevor, did you RSVP to the Elk Valley High multigenerational reunion?”
Trevor considered. “I might have. The invitation came last spring.”
Chase’s heart pounded. “I do think the reunion might have been the catalyst to prompt the RMK to kill again. The timing seems right.”
“Makes sense,” Rocco said. “The whole town has been buzzing about the reunion for months.”
“And causing some friction,” Chase commented. “I hadn’t realized how high the emotional meter was running. And if the reunion was the trigger for the RMK, we need to keep a close eye on the town. The RMK will strike when he’s ready. It won’t be obvious, and he’ll try to catch us off guard.”
“Do you think the RMK believes Trevor will return to Elk Valley?” Ashley asked.
“Maybe.” Chase could use the idea of Trevor returning to town to trap the beast they called the RMK. Hmm. Chase needed to keep mulling over exactly how to execute the plan forming in his brain.
“Then the RMK could be here already,” Meadow said.
Chase shrugged. “Not necessarily. At least not yet.” He glanced at his watch. The timepiece brought both comfort and sorrow. It had been a gift from his late wife on their third anniversary. “I need to wrap this up. I’ll let the others fill you in on what’s happened. Rocco, Ashley, with me. Zoe should be done with that list.”
Chase left the conference room with Rocco and Ashley at his heels. They entered the police chief’s office.
Zoe rose and came around the desk to hand him the list. “I wrote as many names as I could remember.”
“I’ll take that.” Ashley took the list and with a nod, she and Rocco left with the list in hand.
Chase noticed the dark circles bruising the tender skin beneath Zoe’s eyes. She had to be exhausted. “Going to the bank and the DMV can wait until tomorrow. Let’s head home.”
Home. The word echoed through his head and his heart and landed with a thud in his gut. What had he done?
Chase lay on his bed with his head resting on his hands. The glow from the clock on the bedside table revealed the late hour. In the room next to his, baby Kylie fussed. Zoe’s soft, soothing voice sang a lullaby.
Grief and guilt lay heavy on his heart as he listened.
The ding of an incoming text provided welcome relief. Glad for the distraction, he grabbed his phone. The number on the screen was unknown and held an attachment.
Wary, he opened the text.
A photo of Cowgirl, the pink collar with the word KILLER, sparkled around her neck. A man’s hand and forearm, with the knife tattoo that they knew was on the arm of the Rocky Mountain Killer, held a copy of the Elk Valley Daily Gazette in the frame.
Chase sat up, the bed shifting beneath his weight. His heart pounded.
The local newspaper was from today.