Chapter Fifteen
Dax didn’t expect to discover a hell of a lot by following Mayor Kreplick or the bank president, Peter Lucas, but he had to satisfy that voice in his head that told him something wasn’t right with the whole blackmail theory. To him, Amanda and Jessie’s concept had too many holes.
He wasn’t happy about leaving her, but Jessie should be safe with her sharp shooting Nana by her side. He had to chuckle at the image of the old lady practicing her rifle skills, but there was little question Margaret Nash was no ordinary woman.
Once Dax dropped Jessie at home, he returned to town and parked the cruiser in front of the office, figuring that following a suspect in a police vehicle would never work. He might as well use a bullhorn and announce he was right behind him.
Jessie had locked up the office after they’d returned from Clinton’s house, and he felt fairly certain no one would be stupid enough to break in, especially with an official vehicle in front. But hey, stranger things had happened since he’d come to Kerry.
Dax chose Peter Lucas to tail because banker’s hours were more predictable, and because he had no idea about the Mayor’s schedule. Besides, find one, catch the other.
Across the street from the bank was the Western Wear shop. He entered and pretended to browse through the selection of cowboy boots and hats while keeping an eye on the stately bank. He hoped Peter Lucas wasn’t the type to stay too late past the close of business or Dax might be walking away with a new but unwanted wardrobe.
He tried on a few pairs of boots to make his stakeout appear legit, but there was no way he’d be caught dead in anything made of snakeskin. A cowboy he was not. The salesman was good though. He had to give the guy credit, but Dax never did cotton to Stetsons or big belt buckles. Unfortunately for the clerk, he wouldn’t be making a sale off him today.
At precisely four thirty-three, the object of his tail, Mr. Peter Lucas, exited the bank. Dressed in a neatly tailored blue pinstriped suit, the man looked downright dapper.
He turned to the salesman. “I want to think over my choices and perhaps I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here,” the clerk said with a smile.
Dax slipped outside, turned left, and waited in the alley between the Western Wear shop and the hardware store to see where Mr. Lucas would go. His destination happened to be The Sugar Shack. It seemed as if the whole town did their business there. Whoever owned the place had to be richer than sin.
A block farther south of the shop, the Mayor popped out of a building. Could be a coincidence, but Dax didn’t believe in them. Walking briskly, Kreplick crossed the street, traveled three blocks to The Sugar Shack, and ducked inside. Hmm. They certainly weren’t going to have a clandestine meeting in there with every gossipmonger looking on.
Dax would have to wait for them to come out, but he wanted to be ready when they did. It wasn’t like he could waltz in and have a meal since the Mayor would probably drill him again.
If he wanted to follow them when they came out, he’d need better transportation—and that meant picking up his vehicle at Walt’s garage. He made it there in less than ten minutes.
“Hey, Dax. You come for your truck?”
He’d stopped by before and learned the repairs would be done by this morning. “Yes, but do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t tell Jessie my truck’s fixed, or anyone else for that matter.”
“No problem. Jessie told me you were a big time private eye. You investigatin’ someone?”
“You could say that. How much do I owe you?” Dax asked as Walt tossed him the keys.
The old man scratched his head. “Well, the parts were a might expensive, and I did have to put a rush on it. Four hundred should cover it.”
Dax whistled. That would really strap him for cash. He flipped through his bills, silently counting his stash. “I only have two hundred on me. You take credit?”
Walt shook his head. “Nope. Can’t afford the fees.”
He wasn’t surprised. “Can I get you the rest after I go to the bank tomorrow?” His emergency funds could be wired there.
Walt waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. Jessie won’t let you run out on a debt.”
“No, she wouldn’t.”
As Walt took Dax’s money, he looked at him with a sly smile. “Let me give you a piece of advice, young man. If you’re hot on Jessie, you’d better be careful.”
A quick shot of panic made his throat dry. Surely there wasn’t an ex-husband hanging around. “What do you mean?”
“Jessie’s like a daughter to me, and I wouldn’t want to have to take you down a peg or two if you hurt her any.”
Dax relaxed and smiled. The whole town was protective of the cute sheriff—all except for the Mayor and a phantom shooter. “I’ll do my best to see that won’t happen.” He managed to say that with a straight face.
Walt smiled and when Dax jumped in his truck, he saw the man had filled up his tank. Now that was a right friendly thing to do.
As he pulled out of Walt’s garage, he caught sight of Brian walking out of the small grocery store a block away, laden with a ton of groceries. Now he would be a far more interesting tail than the Mayor or the banker any day.
Dax pulled over and leaned back against the seat, waiting for Brian to settle into his vehicle. The guy didn’t look right or left as he placed the bags in the truck’s bed. He either was feeding an army or planning to stay holed up in his house for a while.
Once he finished loading his groceries, Brian took off down the road and stayed well below the speed limit. While there were many explanations for the man’s caution, the most obvious was that he didn’t want to be stopped for speeding because he had something in his truck worth hiding.
Dax followed at a distance. Given the few roads in Kerry, Brian would be easy to keep in view. The sad part was the guy didn’t seem to have a clue that Dax was behind him. Even stranger was that Brian didn’t act like someone who’d been in the military police. He should have checked his rear view mirror every few minutes, especially if he had something he didn’t want someone to find.
Instead of being careful, Brian bounced up and down in his cab as though he was listening to some hip-hop station, enjoying the day. He hoped for Jessie’s sake that her former boyfriend was clean. Once more, he questioned his own motives for following him. He told himself that the guy had done time for stealing arms, and with all the unresolved crimes in town, Brian just might be guilty of something.
Liar, liar.
Fine. Dax wanted to follow Brian to make sure that when Dax went back to Baltimore, Jessie’s ex wouldn’t be a threat to her. Dax had grown fond of the cute little sheriff.
He followed a half-mile behind for about five miles, but it didn’t take a genius to guess where Brian was headed. The only house in sight was a rundown two-story wooden structure on top of a hill, far away from any neighbors. Jessie had mentioned that Brian’s parents had died and left him the old homestead.
The sun was slowly setting and Dax cursed his timing. He’d only planned on seeing what the two lovers were up to, not tail Brian, but hey, when opportunity knocked, he had to answer.
Dax slowed down then pulled onto the berm as Brian continued up the long road to his house. From his vantage point, Dax could see the truck climb the hill, disappear, and then reappear again as he wound around the curves. He’d give Brian a few minutes to get into his house, and then he’d take a look at what he was up to. Not that he expected to find Brian sitting in front of the fire, cleaning his AK-47 assault rifle or anything, but one could never be sure.
Lights went on in Brian’s house one after the other. Using his high-powered binoculars, Dax watched him step out a side door and head for a large detached garage with a smile on his face.
Time to get a closer look. Dax jumped back in his truck and eased up the hill, recognizing that he couldn’t get too close or Brian might spot him. When he was about five hundred feet from the house, Dax once again pulled to the side and parked under a large oak tree.
The sky was turning darker now, forcing Dax to keep vigilant about the time. He should have another thirty minutes of light, but just in case, he grabbed his flashlight, checked to see it worked, and headed up the hill along the tree line.
As he neared, a door squeaked open, and Brian walked from the detached garage back to his house. Given he’d parked his truck outside, the garage might be full of junk.
As Dax neared, a strong smell of cat urine assaulted him, and he froze. He was pretty sure the stench didn’t come from animals, not unless Brian had about twenty or more creatures hold up somewhere. He’d bet his P.I. license the smell resulted from a meth lab, and his gut almost revolted.
Maybe that’s why Brian had come back to Kerry. His house, or rather his parents’ house, was isolated—the perfect location to cook up some illegal substance without getting caught.
If Dax could get a good look in the guy’s trash, he bet he’d find a shit load of cold tablets, Drano cans, or bronchodilators. Jessie was going to be royally pissed when she learned what Brian was up to, but first, he needed to be certain of the crime before he hauled her up there to arrest him.
If Brian had any of his assault rifles from his heist, they’d need plenty of backup to take him down. Hopefully, another town could lend a hand. If he had his way, Jessie would stay at the office while Amanda and a few other officers made the arrest, but he was pretty sure Jessie wouldn’t go for it.
As he snuck up to the garage, Brian’s stereo blasted through the house walls, convincing him Brian wouldn’t hear him. Dax shone his light through the garage window. Bingo. The lab wasn’t big, but it looked sufficient to cook up enough drugs to keep half the teenage population high. He snapped a picture with his cell, but the quality was too poor because of the bad lighting.
On a long table, he spotted two antifreeze containers, a metal can of paint thinner, several hot plates, and lots of glass beakers. For the shortest moment of time, he wondered if he should ride down the hill and pretend he’d seen nothing, but then realized he couldn’t do that. Honor, duty, and all that bullshit were too ingrained in him.
Besides, Dax couldn’t let Brian run around free only to chase after Jessie once Dax returned to Baltimore. A strong ache speared his gut, and he recognized something was happening between them that shouldn’t, but he seemed powerless to stop it.
The house door squeaked open again. Shit, Brian was coming back, which meant it was time to disappear.