Josh took a step back and held up his hands, trying to take up a position that would help de-escalate the situation. Taking Lindstrom down was possible, but he had a feeling he might not fare as well as he had against the two punks who’d tried to jump him at his house. The man was a two-time felon who beat his wife. The odds of him simply walking away without a fight were unlikely. The list of nightmarish outcomes raced through his mind.
“You don’t need to do this, Patrick,” Josh said. “We just want to talk—”
“All I’m doing is trying to defend myself. Move another step toward me, and I will hurt her.”
“She meant what she told you,” he said. “We just need to talk to you.”
“Why should I? You’re a cop.”
“I’m not here as a cop. I’m only here because I need information about something personal. Information I think you have.”
“And you expect me to just give you whatever you want? Why should I?”
“Just listen to me. Please,” he said, studying Caitlyn’s gaze. She was clearly scared, but there was also a spark of determination in her eyes. “A year ago, my wife was murdered. Her name was Olivia Solomon. Rudolph Beckmann and another man were convicted for her murder.”
“I had nothing to do with that murder.”
“I know. But I have evidence that you gave a false statement about Rudolph’s alibi.”
Patrick’s gaze narrowed. “What kind of evidence?”
“Evidence that you were, in fact, here at this bar with Rudolph the night of the murder. I know that someone convinced you not to talk about him. Someone who told you not to give him an alibi. Maybe they bribed you, maybe they blackmailed you . . . I don’t know. All I need to know is who that was.”
“You’re lying. You don’t know anything.”
Josh might not know all the facts, but one thing was clear. The man was definitely scared. Using their leverage was a risk, and one he’d have preferred to avoid, but if it got him to talk . . .
“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Josh said, holding his gaze.
“Why should I believe you?”
Josh prepared to tighten the screws. “I know about the brawl that night. Two of you got into a fight and the other guy was sent to the hospital. If you’d come forward and said you were there that night, you would have been arrested for assault and ended up back in prison.”
“You can’t prove any of that.”
“I told you. I have evidence.”
Patrick’s expression sobered, and he moved the knife an inch from Caitlyn’s throat. Josh finally had his attention.
“What kind of evidence?” Patrick asked.
“Evidence that the district attorney will pay attention to when I show it to him.”
Patrick put the knife back into his pocket and pushed Caitlyn toward him. “What do you want from me? Because it sounds to me that you want more than just information.”
Before he answered, Josh grabbed Caitlyn’s hand and steered her behind him. At least the man wasn’t running.
Josh worked to rein in his temper. The man didn’t deserve his mercy, but there had to be at least a sliver of good in him. He just needed to find it. “I want you to confirm you were with Beckmann that night at this bar.”
“I could walk away right now.”
“And I could arrange a warrant for your arrest for assaulting this woman.”
Josh tried to draw up a measure of pity for the man. But Lindstrom was trapped, and he knew it.
“I meant what I said. I’m not here to take you in. I’ve got bigger fish to fry, and I need to know the truth about where Rudolph was that night.”
“Why do you need to know the truth?”
“If Rudolph didn’t kill my wife, then someone else out there did. Which means for you, if at any time the people who bought you off think that your lie isn’t working anymore, they won’t hesitate to eliminate you. They’ve killed three people. So far. I don’t think they’ll worry about one more.”
“And if I still deny everything you just said?”
Josh held up a flash drive. “I can make sure this evidence comes to light.”
“You’re lying. There was no footage.”
“Really? Are you willing to take that chance and end up back in prison? How many people were in the bar that night? Twenty . . . thirty . . . forty? How many of them had cell phones? It was just a matter of time before footage showed up.”
“Why not just take what you’ve got to the police?”
“Because I’m not interested in what you did. I’m interested in who told you to lie.”
Josh could tell Lindstrom was still weighing his options. Trying to figure out his best move. One that would get him in the least amount of trouble. If he felt backed into a corner, he was exactly where Josh wanted him.
“He never gave me his full name. He just showed up at the bar. Said I could call him Jigsaw, but someone else called him Shawn. Said he’d pay me good if I would lie about that night. Tell the police I wasn’t here.”
“And did he pay you?”
“Two thousand that day, three thousand a few days later.”
“What did he look like?”
“I don’t know. It’s been a long time.”
“I’d hate to have to shake your memory by taking you down to the station.”
Patrick frowned. “Fine. Early forties, glasses, balding in the front, a couple inches shorter than I am—”
“Any distinguishing marks?”
“No . . . Wait a minute . . . He wore a gold ring. I noticed it because it was unique. It was the head of a lion.”
“Did you ever talk to the police?”
“They called me in and asked me to tell them what happened. I told them I hadn’t been there, and they told me I could go. That was it.”
“There was no follow-up?”
“Not with me.” Patrick’s gaze shifted to the flash drive. “What about the footage? I want it. I need that, and a guarantee that you’re not going to share it.”
“Sure.” Josh tossed the drive to him. “Think twice before you lie to the police again. I promise it will come back to bite you.”
Josh took Caitlyn’s hand as they walked back to the car, then waited until she’d slid into the passenger seat. “You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” She looked up, catching his gaze. “Though two adrenaline-laced incidents in barely twenty-four hours is my limit. I’m a girl who likes to watch action on the big screen with a bowl of popcorn, not be a part of it.”
“Well, you’ve still got your sense of humor. That’s impressive.”
Her smile disappeared. “He deserves to be in jail.”
“I agree, but at the moment, there’s nothing we can do about it. If I were to bring him in, it would tip off whoever is behind this to what we’re doing. We can’t take that chance. Now we know we’re on the right track and not on some wild-goose chase.”
He hurried to the other side of the car and quickly pulled out from the curb before Patrick had a change of heart and came after them.
“That description sounds a lot like one of the men who showed up at Helen’s house today,” Caitlyn said.
“I thought the exact same thing.”
Josh put in a call to his partner.
“Quinton . . .” he said, once he’d picked up. “I need to ask for another favor.”
“Of course. What’s up? You two okay?”
“For now, yes. I need you to see if the name Jigsaw pops up somewhere. Early forties, glasses, balding in the front. Just over six feet. He wears a gold lion-head ring. We were told by Patrick Lindstrom that this Jigsaw paid him off to lie about his alibi. We also think there’s a good chance that he was the same guy who showed up at Helen Fletcher’s house.”
“How in the world did you get Patrick to talk?”
“Besides the fact that we were actually there to dig up the truth, unlike whoever interviewed him last year? Caitlyn and I came up with a bit of leverage and it worked.”
“So you’ve just managed to prove that Rudolph didn’t kill your wife. Considering what’s happened, you know this information could get you both into trouble.”
“We’re already in trouble,” Josh said. “We could go to the captain with what we’ve found. It’s definitely enough to reopen the case.”
There was a long pause on the line before Quinton responded. “I agree, but I think you should hold off.”
“Why?”
Quinton lowered his voice. “Because I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
Josh glanced at Caitlyn. “Wait a minute . . . what are you saying?”
“If what you’ve told me is true, there has to be someone out there that’s higher up, pulling the strings. And if you go to the wrong person—”
“I’ll rocket to the top of their hit list.”
“Exactly.”
“But we can’t just sit on this.”
“I agree. Just hold off for a couple more days. Let me keep digging and asking questions.”
Josh hesitated. He knew his partner was right, but he still didn’t like the fact that there were so many unanswered questions. “You need to be careful. If they find out you’re working with me, it’s going to be your neck on the line as well.”
“Trust me, I know. Just keep your heads down for the moment. We don’t need any of this coming back on you any worse than it already is. We can meet in the morning and go over what we’ve got.”
Caitlyn’s frown deepened as Josh turned onto the main street that led to their motel. “So where does this leave us now? If we can’t turn in the information we have, how are we going to sort this out?”
“We will. But like Quinton said, we need to make sure we take down everyone involved.”
“And in the meantime? I can’t just sit and wait for answers.”
“I can’t either. I thought we could stop by the store on the way to our motel. I’d like to get a large poster board and markers.”
“What are you thinking? A makeshift crime board?”
“Exactly. I’m impressed.”
Caitlyn laughed. “Don’t be too impressed. Every crime show has its own version of that board.”
Josh smiled. He liked the sound of her laugh. And her ability to find something to laugh about in the middle of a tense situation. “That’s because it works. Always helps me to lay out a case and find the connections. I think I’ll also pick up one of those mini photo printers while we’re there.”
An hour later, Josh put their purchases in the back seat of the car and started the engine. Caitlyn had seemed fine in the store, but there was a growing look of fatigue in her eyes. “Are you doing okay? Being held by knifepoint, no matter how it turns out, is terrifying.”
“I will be.” She let out a soft sigh. “It’s strange, but for some reason, I never got the impression that he wanted to hurt me. It was like when my father came to my mother after a fight with flowers and apologized. It’s not an excuse, but it was as if he couldn’t control the anger, no matter how much he wanted to.”
“Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”
“Exactly.”
Josh’s phone rang, and he pushed a button on the steering wheel to answer the call.
“Detective Solomon?”
“Yes, who’s this?”
“This is Gavin Fletcher. I’m sorry to bother you, but I just found something you need to see. I think you were right about my mother. She didn’t commit suicide. She was murdered.”