Cold Snap, page 8
“Brynn Webster is twenty-eight,” Dobson cut in, breaking the tension between them.
“Kane disappeared twenty-seven years ago.” Ropero pointed out.
Grady yawned. He hadn’t gotten a whole lot of sleep lately. “Maybe he already had a second family. He worked undercover for years. He was a master of disguise.”
“A second family could explain why he’s been so difficult to find,” Novak agreed. “His backup plan was already in place. Maybe he was living part time in that other identity at the time of the murders.”
Ropero didn’t look convinced.
Grady crossed his arms. “I took advantage of an opportunity that presented itself. Wasn’t that what we decided? Whittle down the possible suspect list until we can focus on the remaining few who fit the parameters? Anyway,”—he nodded toward the mug—“you don’t have to run it.”
Ropero tapped her foot and stared thoughtfully at the bag.
“You are correct, Operator Steel. That is the plan. Thank you.” Agent Dobson ignored his partner.
“What happened last night?” Novak asked.
“Came home to a hero’s welcome.” Grady narrowed his eyes at Ropero. “My sister hates me, which wasn’t news. You were correct when you told me she’s been renting out the house I own without my permission for the past few years. She wasn’t exactly happy when I showed up to turn off the money spigot.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “I removed the camera system she’d set up and plan to change the locks so she can’t snoop. Oh, and I have a lodger in the basement, but I can reinforce the inside lock to make sure she can’t access the rest of the house should I need to.”
“Who’s the lodger?” Ropero asked.
“Brynn Webster.”
“Is that how you obtained the DNA sample?” Ropero asked archly.
Grady narrowed his eyes at the woman. “I took a used mug from the café this morning after helping her open. The Sea Spray Café is a major hub in the town and a great potential source of information.”
Ropero relented. “You’re right. Sorry, I’m tense. I keep visualizing Eli Kane climbing into his car and driving over the border, never to be seen again.”
Grady understood. Eli Kane was a monster.
“Brynn is the person who jumped in the water to retrieve the body of Milton Bodurek last night.” Grady filled them in on what had happened.
“Brynn?” Cowboy queried with a suggestive smile. “You knew her before?”
“Not like that, you pervert. She was a kid when I left. I remember her though.”
“You want to use her?” Ropero’s tone suggested that was more acceptable than befriending someone. “What do we know about this Webster woman?” She turned to her partner.
Dobson sat and began typing, presumably requesting a criminal background check on Brynn.
“How do you know this woman didn’t shoot the dead guy and push him into the harbor?” Nash asked. They called Nash “The Professor” because he was whip smart and excelled at looking at a situation from all the angles.
“I don’t,” Grady admitted. “But why bother rescuing him after she shoved him in—especially if no one noticed the gunshot? I certainly didn’t hear it. Once Milton Bodurek was in the water he would probably have floated out to sea on the outgoing tide. Next stop Bay of Fundy. No one would have known what happened to the guy except the shooter.”
“Which presumably was the point of pushing him in the water in the first place.” Novak held a report that sat in front of him. “Are local law enforcement dredging the harbor for the murder weapon?”
Grady’s lip curled despite himself. “Yeah.”
“They find anything yet?” Ropero asked.
“Not that I know of, but I don’t have any useful contacts inside the sheriff’s department.”
“Didn’t you used to work as a deputy there?” Ropero pushed.
“For about eighteen months fifteen years ago.” Before he’d joined the State Troopers out of Bangor and gotten his criminology degree by studying part-time. He’d known he needed to get out of Deception Cove to have any chance of succeeding. Needed a clean slate. “But the fact I was suspended while the FBI investigates whether or not I killed some poor innocent on the side of the road hasn’t exactly endeared me to local law enforcement.” The words slid out like glass shards. “Plus, the current sheriff is a guy I hung around with in high school. His dad was the former sheriff and offered us both jobs as deputies after graduation.”
“Nepotism at its finest,” Ropero derided.
It hadn’t been that neat or tidy, but Grady didn’t disagree.
“Let’s just say Sheriff York and I have a history. Not a pleasant one.”
“Is he any good at his job?” asked Novak.
Grady considered for a moment. “He knows how to hire people who will make him look good. He’s adept at sweet talking people, especially women.”
Ropero and Meghan Donnelly both rolled their eyes.
“I’m just saying it as I see it.” He recalled how Darrell had been overly attentive to Brynn last night. “I think he was planning to hit on Brynn Webster when he interviewed her about finding Milton Bodurek’s body. I invited myself to the party as it was in my basement, and I wanted to know what else she might have seen—which was someone walking away from the harbor as she arrived. She didn’t see a face or recognize them, but it would be worth checking any surveillance cams in the area north of the harbor.”
Dobson made a note on the pad at his side.
“The sheriff used the opportunity of a witness interview to hit on someone who was presumably traumatized?” Cowboy asked with a derisive curl to his lips.
Grady nodded. “Brynn Webster didn’t seem that impressed either.”
“I can see why,” Donnelly remarked.
“He’s married, isn’t he?” said Novak.
“Yep. Three kids. I didn’t bother with a sample of his DNA as his father was the sheriff for ten years before Eli Kane went missing. It’s not him. I’d appreciate a look into the former sheriff’s finances though. He lives in a nice big house on the bluff.” Grady tapped a pen on the table. “Temple York is a smart guy. If Eli Kane showed up in town, he should have noticed.”
“Unless he was paid not to?” Dobson queried, easily following Grady’s line of thought.
“Or Kane has had so much surgery he’s completely unrecognizable.” Grady raised one shoulder. “It’s another thread to tug.”
“You say the dead guy was the manager of the bank that was robbed?” said Nash.
“Yeah. You should test his DNA so we can rule him out, too. He arrived in town about twenty-five years ago. Kane could have taken over Bodurek’s identity, but it’s not likely. Not with that large of an inheritance.” Grady spotted a coffeepot and walked over to pour himself a cup. He took a sip. Not as good as the one he’d made in the café this morning but better than most police sludge.
“Assuming Milton Bodurek is not Kane, could Eli Kane have killed him?” Nash asked.
“Motive?” asked Novak.
“Maybe during the robbery investigation, the bank manager uncovered evidence Eli lived in town and tried to blackmail him?” Nash suggested.
“A dangerous plan considering Kane’s reputation,” said Dobson.
“Well, the guy is dead,” Grady responded.
“Maybe Kane was simply seeing if Bodurek knew whether or not the FBI had found anything to link him to the bank?” Nash mulled. “Killed him afterward so he couldn’t ID him.”
“Hardly laying low.” Grady wasn’t buying that angle.
“The manager didn’t know anything about the investigations.” Ropero leaned against the edge of the table.
“Kane wouldn’t know that Bodurek was ignorant,” said Nash.
“If it was Kane who killed the bank manager, he sure as hell knows now,” Cowboy said laconically. “Bodurek swears he doesn’t know what Kane’s talking about, so Kane decides it’s safe to stick around—after Bodurek is dead. Throws him in the water. Cops might connect the robbery to the murder, but as long as no one brings up Kane’s name, he isn’t too worried. He’s living under the wire. No one suspects him.”
“Any evidence of torture on Bodurek?” Nash asked.
“Not that I saw.” Grady looked askance at Ropero.
“I’m waiting for the ME to conduct the autopsy. Apparently, he doesn’t work on the weekends.” Ropero seemed deflated at the delay. “But torture doesn’t have to be physical. It could be a gun to the head or the photo of a loved one. An implied threat. It would take a cold heart not to succumb to that kind of pressure.”
Eli Kane’s heart was a block of ice.
14
Brynn looked up as her mom’s best friend and long-time server, Linda, arrived in a whirlwind of winter parka and shopping bags. Her shoulder-length, wavy, strawberry-blonde hair was windblown despite the cute cranberry wooly hat she wore.
Linda kissed Brynn’s cheek then hung up her coat and tied her black apron around her waist. “What’s this I hear about you pulling poor Milton Bodurek—God rest his soul—out of the harbor last night?”
“Just another day in boring old Deception Cove,” Brynn said wryly.
“This town isn’t boring.” Linda shook her head. “I think this town is bursting with goings on. You’re the one who complains it’s boring.”
“I think it’s boring, too.” Jackie came behind the counter and loaded a stack of dirty dishes into the dishwasher. She was probably the only person who hadn’t grilled Brynn on what had gone down last night and that was probably because they’d been too busy to even catch their breath, plus Caleb had likely already recast himself as the hero in his version of events.
“You’re seventeen. You think everything is boring.” Linda dropped her voice into a whisper so only Brynn could hear. “Except sex or alcohol.”
Brynn suppressed a grin. Linda was incorrigible. “Do you think Mom and Dad heard?”
Linda hooted. “I’m surprised they aren’t here making sure their sweet baby is okay.”
“Mom had a treatment scheduled.” Melancholy wanted to roll over Brynn, but she forced it away.
“On a Sunday?” Linda frowned. “Chemo’s a bitch.”
“Not if it works,” Brynn argued.
“Even then.” The other woman had gone through her own breast cancer fight three years ago. “But if it works you don’t care as much.”
That’s what they were all praying for. That it worked. That her mom went into remission.
“I suspect Dad decided to keep her in the dark until she’s finished at the hospital. Otherwise, she might blow it off and track me down.”
“Your daddy wouldn’t let her do that.”
“Exactly.”
“You really jumped in the harbor?” Jackie turned from the dishwasher, interest gleaming in her black eyes.
“I really did.” Jackie had been hostile all morning, and this was the first sign she’d thawed.
“I couldn’t believe it when Caleb told me. Was the water gross?”
The taste of rotten fish still lingered in Brynn’s mouth, and she made a face. “Very.”
“I suspect realizing Milton Bodurek was already dead made it ten times worse.” Linda’s mouth compressed into an upside-down smile.
Brynn’s stomach gave a little squeeze. She pressed a hand to her midsection. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“As if that lot would let you forget for a moment,” Linda scoffed. She stood on tiptoe to inspect the clientele. “Jesus, it’s packed. Jackie, table three wants their check.”
Jackie grumbled and headed off with the payment machine.
Linda caught Brynn’s arm. “You sure you’re okay?”
Brynn nodded.
“What time did you leave last night?” Linda clearly wanted all the details.
“Late. It was probably close to ten thirty by the time I locked up.”
Linda grimaced. “Sorry I couldn’t stay any longer. You know how Kent gets.”
Linda’s second husband wanted Linda to quit. Linda refused while Brynn’s mom needed her. It was another in a long list of reasons for her parents to sell this place.
Brynn had a feeling her mom was holding on to the café as a sort of symbol linked to her survival. Selling felt too much like giving up even though her parents had both earned every moment of a nice relaxing retirement.
Linda poured herself a coffee. Her shift didn’t officially start for another ten minutes. “I found you another server.”
“What?” Brynn’s head shot around so fast she pulled a muscle. She clutched her neck. “Ouch. Way to bury the lede, Linda.”
“Whiner.” Linda put her cold hand over Brynn’s and squeezed gently. “My niece, Prudence. Just got to town. She was working in a hotel down in Boston. Waitressed to put herself through college. Said she fancied a change in scenery and is living with us until she can find her own place. I’d have mentioned it sooner, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I’d spoken to her.”
“And she wants to work here?” Damn. This was the answer to a prayer. Brynn had barely had a day off since she’d arrived. She had her own work projects she needed to catch up on and hadn’t spent nearly enough time with her mom.
“Yup. Told her to come in for an interview or you can talk to her on the phone. Do not mess it up.” Linda shook her finger at her. As if Brynn wouldn’t be willing to grovel for good help. “Now go grab a break while Jackie and I are both here. Go out the back so people don’t hound you.”
“I love you.” She flung her arms around the other woman’s thin frame and squeezed her tight.
“I love you, too. Your mom is a fighter. If anyone can get through this…”
“I know.” Brynn held on tight for another long squeeze then let go.
Linda waved her away. “Get out of here before you make my mascara run.”
Brynn sniffed as she shrugged into her coat and tugged on her hat.
She sent Angus a big grin, and he nodded, barely dragging his attention away from the fish he was expertly filleting with a casual swipe of a lethal blade.
Brynn stepped gingerly onto the back deck that, thanks to Grady, wasn’t slippery. The cops were still down at the harbor. A group of onlookers gathered nearby with anticipation to see what, if anything, they pulled out of the water.
A shiver formed between her shoulder blades as eyes drilled into the back of her neck. She purposely ignored the curious stares through the window behind her.
She headed down the steps and turned up onto Main Street wanting to avoid the harbor and the questions that were bound to arise. She didn’t have anywhere to go but couldn’t stand being in the fishbowl a moment longer. She strode aimlessly along the street. Too late she realized she was heading toward the sheriff’s office and there was Darrell York climbing out of his big SUV, watching her.
She forced herself to keep moving toward him rather than cut and run.
15
It seemed like a good time for Grady to hit Ropero with more bad news. “I’m pretty sure I’m on the suspect list for Milton’s murder. They took my weapon to run ballistics.”
Novak swore. “I’ll make sure they don’t connect the results to your service weapon.” Which Grady would have had to surrender if he’d truly been suspended. Novak bent to remove a subcompact SIG Sauer P365 from his ankle, along with the holster.
Grady protested. “I have a backup.”
“Now you have two.” Novak handed it over along with a couple of magazines of ammo. “I’ll fill out the paperwork.”
“How close are the locals to catching the actual bank robber?” asked Grady.
Ropero pulled a disgruntled face. “No viable leads. The vehicle used in the robbery was a black 2004 Ford Focus. Stolen two days prior from Augusta. It hasn’t been found. Robber came in late in the afternoon, right before closing, waving around a 1911. We have a general description of a white male, 5’9”, about one-sixty. Age, anywhere from twenty to forty. He deliberately disguised his voice. He got away with a considerable amount of cash as they were waiting on an armored truck to pick up the local businesses’ weekly takings.”
“That sounds like an inside job.”
Ropero nodded. “Outer vault was open—someone was accessing their safe deposit box—so he rushed inside and had the manager open a few boxes. According to reports he stole some heirloom jewelry and gold. The locals put out a statewide alert to pawn shops in case someone tries to sell it. The getaway driver honked, and the guy inside immediately went to leave. The security guard chose that moment to find his balls and tackled the robber on the way out. Unfortunately, he was shot in the leg for his efforts but not badly hurt.”
Grady nodded. “Good.”
“In and out in five minutes flat. Guy climbed in the vehicle and essentially disappeared. No sign of the car on any of the interstates. No trace of the money either, although as the teller forgot to put a dye-pack inside the bag then maybe that isn’t surprising.”
“She forgot?” Grady queried.
“Could she be involved?” Novak asked quickly.
Dobson checked the report. “A Miss Fancy Lucette.”
“Jesus, she’s still alive? She was a friend of my grandma’s.” Grady snorted. “She was way past retirement when I lived in town.”
“Could she be involved?” Novak repeated.
Grady pursed his lips and shook his head. “It’s possible but highly unlikely. She knows everyone in town and is well liked. All the old-timers have accounts in the branch, and I can’t imagine she’d be okay with her friends being robbed of their hard-earned money.”
“You have an account there, right?” asked Novak.
“Yeah. I inherited a safe deposit box from my grandmother and keep the deeds to her house there.” He didn’t know why he hadn’t closed the account years ago. Still subconsciously holding onto that link with his grandma, he guessed.
“I plan to visit the bank and check the box tomorrow so I can look at the setup and talk to people there. I need that list of everyone who rents a safe deposit box so I can start going through it in detail.” He aimed the last at the case agents.
