Familiar Trouble Page 10

  He pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and collected the cloth. It wasn’t much of a stretch to realize who might have such clothing—Thad Brady. He was a veteran of the recent wars. Of course that wasn’t conclusive. Every army surplus store in the nation sold military clothing and supplies, and many hunting outlets had copied the pattern for hunting togs.

  Aiden put the evidence bag in his pocket and waited for the crime lab employees. At last he had solid, physical evidence that might tie back to the SSK. But he was greatly troubled that the killer had been at Tammy’s house. Had he been planning to throw the bookseller into darkness and then strike? Tammy was in real danger.

  But who had intervened and called Frasier McNaughton and sent him to Tammy house? Had the call been to help Tammy or put the preacher in danger? Was the increased pace of the killings due to the fact that someone else was onto the SSK—pushing the killer to decrease the time between kills? Or maybe Tammy’s supposition was correct. The SSK wasn’t in Wetumpka and this was the work of a copycat. If that last scenario were true, Aiden acknowledged that the small amount of control he’d felt he had on the case had just disappeared completely.

  Antoine’s Restaurant was filled with the delicious smells of Italian cooking when Tammy waited to be seated. She’d arrived ahead of Aiden, and she was glad for a moment to compose herself. The last twenty-four hours had seen her up and down emotionally. The brisk sales at the bookstore had kept her hopping all morning, but now she had a moment alone to sort through her feelings. And those were in turmoil. Despite what her head warned her about—falling for someone who would move on when the mood struck—her heart sang a giddy little tune. She was excited to see Aiden again, but wary of the news he might bring her.

  When he stepped into the restaurant, she inhaled sharply and covered her flush with a wave. He came straight to her table, a tall, solid man who carried himself with pride.

  “Did you find out anything?” she asked, even before he could take his seat.

  “I did.” He gave the waiter his order for iced tea. “There were no fingerprints on the breaker box. Whoever flipped those breakers knew how to cover his tracks. The text was sent to Frasier from a burner phone. The coroner didn’t find any trace evidence on Beverly’s body, and the CSIs found little at the body dump site. The best evidence we have was the bullet shot at Trouble. They were able to retrieve that and can match it to a weapon—if we ever find a weapon.

  “Can you get a search warrant for Tom Well’s weapons? And his tenant’s?”

  “Good question. I don’t think we have enough to convince a judge to sign off on that, but Rob is going to try to persuade Judge Miller.” He almost told her about the scrap of cloth he’d found, but he held back. He’d spent too many years in solitary pursuit of the SSK to bring another person into his private quest. Not yet. Not until he knew for certain what was happening in Wetumpka and until he had a solid lead on the killer. Then he’d bring every law officer and citizen in the area down and put an end to the killer’s gruesome reign.

  “Are you okay?” Tammy asked. She peered over the top of the menu with some concern. “You look like you’re about to explode.”

  “I’m fine. Just worried. I feel helpless to stop this killer. And I’m worried about you.”

  Helpless would be the one thing Aiden Waters couldn’t stand. She understood. “Maybe what happened at my house last night had nothing to do with the dead women or the SSK.”

  “Where’s that cat of yours?”

  She knew Aiden was changing the subject, and she was glad for the release of pressure. “I left him watching over Benjy.”

  “And why does Benjy need watching over?” Aiden asked.

  “Look, I should have told you yesterday but Benjy left the store unattended all afternoon. He had a headache. And he does suffer from migraines.”

  “Really?” Aiden didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “I should pick him up.”

  Tammy shook her head. “No. Trouble is smart. If Benjy is up to anything, Trouble will let me know. If you confront Benjy, he’ll just shut down. That’s who he is. Give Trouble a chance to discover what he can.”

  “Trouble was acting peculiar last night and this morning. We should have paid more attention. Can you find out where Benjy went all afternoon?”

  “I think so.” The waiter came to take their order and Tammy glanced around the festive restaurant taking in the smiling diners. The Christmas holiday was almost on top of them. The people around her were happy and celebrating the season and each other. Tammy, though, was on the trail of a serial killer—or possible in the sights of one.

  “Are you okay?” Aiden asked her, putting a gentle hand on her forearm.

  “Absolutely.” Tammy sat up taller and gave Aiden her full attention as she talked about the most popular books she’d sold. She was aware that Aiden didn’t fall for her subterfuge for a moment, but he went along with it, chatting aimlessly.

  When the food was served, at last she relaxed in the quiet of the small restaurant. Somehow, Antoine’s had managed to escape the bustle of last minute Christmas shopping that seemed to have taken over the town. The streets and stores were filled with cars and pedestrians—more than she’d seen in one place since the fabulous Christmas on the Coosa family day that had occurred earlier in the month.

  Not that she was complaining. She loved wrapping the books as gifts, thinking about the pleasure that each reader would receive when he or she tore the paper off. That had been her focus—until a killer had entered her town.

  “What’s Santa bringing you for Christmas?” Tammy asked Aiden. A lull had fallen between them, and though it wasn’t uncomfortable, she eased into conversation.

  “When the SSK is caught, I’m going to treat myself to a vacation at the beach. That’ll be my late Christmas present.” Aiden sipped his tea. “Are you a beach person?”

  “Beach, mountains, I love it all. But mostly I’m happy right here in Wetumpka.”

  “No shock to me,” Aiden said. “I hear you’re partial to this place.”

  She enjoyed his gentle sarcasm, and she hated to turn the conversation in a dark direction, but her lunch hour was almost up. “Aiden, do you have a suspect in the murders?”

  “I have suspicions.” Aiden put his napkin on the table.

  “But you don’t want to share.”

  “Can we wait until this evening? I want a chance to check it out before I blacken someone’s name. And I promise, I do have things to tell you and I will.”

  “This evening?” Tammy hadn’t gotten her hopes up about plans for Christmas Eve. She wanted to be with Aiden, but she also didn’t want to become dependent on him. She’d grown accustomed to spending the holidays with friends or even alone at the bookstore. She joked that as long as she had a good book, she was never alone, and it was true. But Aiden’s company was altogether another level of “not being alone.” She could quickly become used to spending time with him—from lunches to holidays. And that was dangerous ground.

  “Rob asked me to stay over at your place again.” Aiden’s dark eyes held secrets. “He’s worried about you.”

  “That’s unfair. I’ll speak to Rob. You can’t be expected to be on duty 24/7 every day of the week.”

  “It’s not exactly like I’m digging ditches.”

  “Thanks for that.” She couldn’t help but smile. “Rob should send another deputy, give you a break.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve. Most of the deputies have families, young children. I’m alone. I don’t mind working. In fact, I prefer it.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, I’d enjoy being with you.”

  His admission was more than Tammy could push away. While they might dance around the edges of what was happening between them, they were both aware that they’d started down a path from which they couldn’t easily retreat. “I’d be glad to spend the time with you.” She almost wanted to laugh at the formality. They acted like they were Victorians—and all the while that one kiss lingered betwe
en them, teasing them with the potential of future pleasures.

  “How about we stop by the church and listen to the Christmas cantata. Once again, I’ve let Frasier down. I haven’t had a chance to help with the building program. I know he wanted to have that house framed up before Christmas. At least we can support the singers. The Cantata is a fund raiser for the building program. Frasier’s responsible for four low-income houses.”

  “He has a way of convincing people to chip in and help with his ideas. And the cantata sounds like a plan. I want to hear the choir. They’ve been practicing for weeks now. If I could sing, I’d be there with them.” Tammy had no illusions about her vocal abilities. She had talents, but singing wasn’t one of them.

  “What time will you close the shop?” Aiden asked.

  “As close to seven as possible.”

  “I’ve got the list of people Frasier spoke with about your involvement in the case. I’ll check them out this afternoon and be at the bookstore at seven to pick you up. Promise me you’ll stay in the store and lock the door if there aren’t any customers.”

  “You’re a cautious man.”

  “Life has taught me that lack of caution can be costly.”

  She wanted to grasp his hand on the table, to show some support because she knew what he’d lost in the past and how much he blamed himself. “Even when we do everything right, Aiden, life still extracts a heavy price. Now I have to relieve Benjy and let him grab some lunch.” She tapped the table with her fingers in a nervous gesture. “Something is off with him today. Even Trouble senses it.”

  “Off how?”

  Tammy considered. Her employee had been quieter than usual, hiding out in the backroom, reordering boxes of books, restocking shelves—without having to be asked. It seemed he didn’t want to be working where he and Tammy could converse. And he avoided waiting on customers, something he normally seemed to enjoy. Truthfully, though, Benjy was such an odd duck she’d never have noticed his behavior had she not been hypervigilant about the murders.

  “He seems to be avoiding me.” Even as she said it she knew it sounded ridiculous.

  “Like he won’t talk with you?” Aiden’s question highlighted the ludicrous nature of her complaint.

  “Never mind. Benjy is weird, and if he did have a migraine yesterday, that could account for his weirdness. He must have been sick because he cancelled his yoga classes and he loves teaching those. I’m just super sensitive.”

  Aiden pulled out a notebook and made a few scrawls across a page. “It’s a good lead. I’ll check into it. If Benjy wasn’t in the book store yesterday afternoon and he wasn’t teaching classes last night, that means he could have been at your house. One more thing. Are you sure you locked the backdoor last night?”

  Tammy had been expecting this question. “I was positive I had. I generally set up the coffeepot for morning, check that everything is turned off, deadbolt the doors, and turn on the alarm when I’m ready to go to bed. I set the trash outside after we finished the dishes and I guess I didn’t lock the door.”

  Aiden nodded. “The information helps. Now I’ll walk you back to the bookstore. I need to stretch my legs, and I’ll see you when it’s time to close. Wait for me in the store.”

  She took the hand he offered, feeling a small charge at the roughness of his palm and the strength of his muscles. Aiden was working on her. That, too, was a fact she couldn’t ignore, and in the long run might prove more dangerous than even a serial killer.

  The bell on the bookstore door jangled as Aiden escorted Tammy back to her business. He was eager to see how Benjy reacted to his presence. And he didn’t have long to wait to find out. Benjy came out of the back carrying a box of books. When he saw Aiden, he stumbled backwards into a shelf and dropped the carton. Books scattered across the floor, and two customers gasped before they began to chuckle and stooped down to help pick up the books.

  “Sorry,” Benjy said, edging away from Aiden.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Aiden was acutely aware of Benjy’s inappropriate discomfort.

  “I was thinking about something and didn’t see you.” Benjy finally calmed enough to gather up the remaining books, thank the patrons for their help, and move to the travel section where he began to shelve the books. Aiden followed behind him, aware that Tammy and Trouble were watching from the counter. Tammy looked more than a little concerned.

  “Tammy said you haven’t been feeling well.” Aiden picked up a book and pretended to leaf through it. “It’s tough to be sick during the holidays.”

  “I had intended to visit relatives, but I’ll just take the holiday time to crawl in bed here. See if I can’t get my system back in balance,” Benjy volunteered. “Most of my family is out west, and that’s just too far to travel.”

  “Where do you come from originally?” Aiden asked. “I remember when you moved to Wetumpka.”

  “Uh, yeah, I’d been working at a bookstore in Birmingham and they closed up. I heard the Book Basket had part time work and then I found a loft for the yoga studio. It was the perfect situation.”

  “So you’re from Birmingham?” Aiden pressed.

  A heavy book slipped from Benjy’s fingers and slammed to the floor. Aiden picked it up and handed it to Benjy, but he didn’t let it go when the man grasped it. Benjy tugged, panic spreading across his face. “Let it go,” he said. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I just want to know where you were before you came to Wetumpka.” Aiden realized that two customers had already left the store and Tammy was standing at the counter, her face pale and her eyebrows furrowed.

  “Birmingham. And before that Baton Rouge. Why?”

  Aiden let the book go. “Just curious. Thanks.”

  Benjy didn’t respond but put the book on the shelf and went to the storage room. He didn’t slam the door but shut it firmly.

  Aiden went to the counter. “Sorry about that,” he said softly. “You’re right. There’s something up with Benjy and I intend to find out what.”

  Tammy nodded. “I doubt he’ll tell me anything, but I’ll try.”

  “See you at seven,” Aiden said loudly as he exited the shop. He made it to the corner and halted. If he’d flushed Benjy, then the employee would make his move quickly. He didn’t have long to wait. Someone built like Benjy scuttled out from behind a dumpster, climbed the brick wall, and disappeared. The man wore a heavy black coat and knit cap.

  Aiden was hot on his heels. Ahead of him was the sound of footfalls as his quarry ran down the narrow alley behind several of the downtown stores. The unpaved road was used mainly by service trucks to bring supplies to the local businesses. Aiden lost sight of the fleeing man, but he used the sound of footfalls echoing in the alley to track him. If it was Benjy, what had caused him to run? Aiden intended to find out. He increased his speed and nearly tripped on a trash container left in the gloomy alley.

  He turned a corner by a small bakery, headed toward Main Street. He put on another burst of speed when someone stepped out in front of him. He saw only broad shoulders and the fact that the man was tall. The man wielded a bat or piece of lumber. Aiden had no time to discern which. He was struck, hard, on the temple. He stumbled for several steps before he went down onto the cold concrete. Gravel crunched beneath his body as he fell. That was the last thing he heard.

  Aiden felt his head where a huge knot had formed. He’d been clocked. The events slowly came back to him. He’d been following the man behind the bookstore, climbing the fence, cutting across the back streets of Wetumpka until he rounded a corner and was struck in the head with something hard.

  “Damn.” Aiden had gotten careless. He’d been so hell bent on catching the man he assumed was Benjy that he’d failed to use the necessary precaution. And he couldn’t even swear that the fleeing figure was Tammy’s weird employee. Aiden had only caught a glimpse of someone leaving the back of the store and escaping over the fence. The man was the same size as Benjy, but it was the furtiveness of the p
erson that made Aiden follow. He’d moved quickly so as not to lose him. He hadn’t expected an ambush. Which was the whole damn problem. He hadn’t thought the man he was tracking had been aware. He’d underestimated his foe. And that was a rookie mistake.

  He used his cell phone to call backup to the alley, unable to ignore the irony of the Christmas music and laughter he could hear from the street only a hundred yards away. He propped himself up against the wall and glanced toward the Coosa River that flowed so tranquilly by the town. Some of the old timers had told him that back in the day, Wetumpka was a wide-open gambling and prostitution center for the riverboats that came up the Alabama waterways. Now it seemed lawlessness was trying to gain a new foothold.

  A patrol car turned down the alley and the high beams made him blink. He was momentarily blinded.

  “Are you hurt?” Rob Sieck asked as he hurried forward with two deputies. They grabbed Aiden and gave him support. “Can you walk?”

  “I’m fine. Cold and humiliated. I was chasing someone and he got the drop on me.”

  “Who?”

  Aiden didn’t have an instant answer. “I thought it was Benjy Miller.”

  “Tammy’s helper?” Rob didn’t hide his concern.

  “I didn’t get a good look. I saw someone behind the bookstore acting furtive. I had a hunch Benjy might take a runner, so I pursued him. I never saw who it was, and to be honest, I can’t see that Benjy could get far enough ahead of me to set up an ambush. Maybe it was someone else.”

  “We’ll take you to the station and you can grab a hot shower and warm up. Put on dry clothes that don’t smell like the inside of a dumpster.”

  “I need to check at the Book Basket.”