Chapter Twenty-One
“Guess what?” A breathless Jess followed Spike into the house, both of them panting and excited—her because she may have gotten a new clue, and Spike because he’d chewed on something gross. They both won in that walk. “You won’t believe what happened!”
He looked down at her free hand. There was no shopping bag entwined in her fingers. “You didn’t have to bag Spike’s business? That’d get me excited.”
She let the dog off the leash. “No, smartass.” She straightened and put her hands on her hips. “I think Spike almost nailed the sniper.”
Of all the things she could have said, this was low on his list. “Is this a joke?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
Despite appearing ready to come out of her skin, her body was tense and she wasn’t smiling. He also knew Jess was not a flake or a conspiracy theorist. If she thought she’d seen the sniper, she had. “Tell me everything.”
Jess filled him in. “The neighbor saw her go over the fence and run off. Well, he wasn’t sure if the kid was male or female, or what age he might be. But the description fits. And if she knows I’m here, then she likely knew about my apartment. She has to be the arsonist, too.”
Sam held up his hands. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Everything Jess said made sense. “If all of this is true, then this person has been stalking you and Irving for some time.”
“I think so, too.”
Shit. “Was there any sign of a rifle?”
“The neighbor didn’t say, so I think no. She could be getting my routine down.” Her voice trailed off and she rubbed her neck. “To take another shot.”
She stared off.
“This is bullshit.” Sam paced, angry for not having been there to catch the sniper, but also that the woman had most likely stalked Jess, Irving, and maybe Summer and Taryn, too, without sending up red flags. “Who in the hell is this woman and what is her end game?”
Jess walked into the living room and sat on what remained of his couch. She dropped her face into her hands. “I have no idea,” she mumbled and lifted her head. Her eyes were worried. “This has to be tied to one of our cases. There’s nothing else that makes sense. Brash is the only common connection.”
“Then we have to look at this through that lens.” He went for his notebook and pen and sat on the coffee table. “We need to start from the beginning of your employment with Brash and move forward. Somewhere in your old cases is the key.”
“You don’t know that.”
He tapped the pen on the book. “Do you have a better idea?”
For a second, she considered the question. “No.” Then, “There might be one other thing. Before Spike took off something hit me in the back of the neck. Twice. It stung. And this wasn’t the first time. I’ve felt the sting before.”
“And you’re telling me this now?”
“She didn’t shoot me. I didn’t think it was relevant.” She leaned her head forward while he looked at her neck. There were two small red marks. “Spike also ate a piece of jerky off the grass. She might have left it to distract Spike.”
He dropped onto his ravaged couch beside her. Anger burned in his belly. If this had been the sniper, she’d been close enough to shoot Jess. Why hadn’t she taken the shot?
“She may have used a pellet gun,” he said. A pellet gun made perfect sense. “That would explain the lack of serious injury. She meant to warn you, not kill you.”
“Oh, hell.” She picked at the exposed stuffing, her face becoming an angry mask. “Warn me against what? We aren’t exactly close to catching her.”
“Maybe her game is to scare you or just piss you off?” If the sniper had been serious, Jess would be dead.
The idea of never seeing her again caused a pain in his chest. “This is why we need to stay close. She just proved she’s a loose cannon and dangerous.”
Jess dropped the stuffing and stood. “Then let’s get to work and catch her.”
For the next two hours and a backyard break for Spike, they went through every case she could remember, again, throwing a few solved by Summer and Taryn into the mix.
Sam’s frustration grew as each case was examined and tossed aside. He closed the notebook. “Damnit.”
Calvin padded past wearing a bright yellow banana hammock per their agreement that he cover up in daylight hours. Sam didn’t even twitch. Progress.
“I told you that we do not have high level cases,” Jess said with a wave for their guest and slumped back in her seat. “In order to hire a sniper, someone has to have the funds to pull this off. Most of our cases are divorces and petty stuff. Well, and an attempted murder, but that man is in jail.”
She took a deep breath. “If anyone is angry with me, they’d probably come at me with a crow bar.”
Seeing a solid dead end to the questioning, he rose. “I need a break. Why don’t we check the gun shops?”
* * *
Because Spike had proved his worth by sniffing out the sniper, Sam let him ride along. Although it was more likely that the dog was after the jerky and not the suspect. In Sam’s eyes, Spike had proven his worth as a guard dog.
When they arrived at the first shop, he looked in the back seat. “Why does he lick the windows?”
Jess turned around. “I think it’s a nervous habit.”
“Ah-huh.” Sam opened the windows enough for the mutt’s big head to stick out, and they went into The Deer and Duck Sporting Goods Store. A hidden doorbell quacked as they went inside. A pair of men dressed from hat to toe in camouflage checked out Jess as one of them chewed on a toothpick and the other examined a crossbow.
“I’ll bet you ten bucks that their undies have ducks on them,” Jess whispered, amused. “I love outdoorsmen. I have several in my family. But those two are over-the-top.”
Sam liked fishing as much as the next guy, but these two looked like hard-core hunters. They probably dressed like that all the time in case a new hunting season popped up.
“It’s not much of a bet,” Sam said. “You’d have to find a way to check or forfeit your money.”
Jess acted like she was interested in a display of wool socks. Sam went for the holsters. “It’s been a while since my last date and I am hot for men in uniforms. It’s a bet.”
Giving her a look, he put a holster back on the rack. “Don’t encourage them. I’d rather not shoot anyone today.”
The sexy troublemaker wandered to a rack of women’s orange camo coveralls. The two Bubbas watched her like she was a ten-point buck in their rifle sights. The men put their heads together, whispered back and forth, and chuckled, while Sam wanted to punch them both in the face for being disrespectful.
The arrival of a clerk from the back brought the gawking to an end. One of the hunters made a purchase and they left.
“Can I help you?” The clerk was grizzled, in his sixties, and had the weathered face of a man who probably spent most of his free time outdoors.
Sam walked over and introduced himself. The man claimed to be the owner. “We’re looking for a woman in her late teens or twenties, who might have purchased these.” He pulled out a shell casing in an evidence bag.
“We sell a lot of those here, and many of our clients are women.” He took the bag and held it up to the light. Shaking his head, he handed the bag back. “Can you be more specific?”
“We’re looking back over the last week or two,” Jess offered and gave a short description of the sniper. “She might have been wearing a dark hoodie.”
The owner shrugged. “Sorry. I can’t help you.”
They got the same response from the other shops they visited. They just didn’t have enough information to make the suspect stand out in anyone’s mind.
“She could have come prepared.” Jess said what they were both thinking. “If she’s from out of state, the purchase could be from anywhere.”
They passed through a drive-thru for lunch and headed back home. Sam wanted to update his files and go into the office for a couple hours. He had other active cases that needed some attention. And Spike needed to spend some time outdoors.
As Sam drove toward his driveway, they both could see into the backyard.
Two women sat on lawn chairs in the yard behind them. The chairs had a perfect view of the tent. They had fruity drinks in their hands and were sharing a bowl of popcorn.
A headache thudded in his skull.
“I’ll head to the hospital and visit Irving. Alvin will need a break. He’s taking the shooting hard. He feels like he failed the boss,” Jess said, ignoring the women.
“There was nothing he could do.”
“Try to tell him that.” Jess sat quietly as they pulled into the driveway. Suddenly, she froze. “Oh my God. Irving.”
“What is it?” Sam said.
“The letters. It’s the damn letters.”