Killing Dreams: A Sam Mason Mystery Book 5 Page 19

  The silence grew louder, and Thorne became more agitated.

  “How long are you going to play dumb? It’s over, Thorne. We have your golf shoes.”

  “Golf shoes? I haven’t golfed in decades.” Thorne's eyes narrowed, darting from the window to Sam. “Where did you get my golf shoes anyway?”

  “I told you, we have a warrant.” Sam was purposely vague. He didn’t want to get Beryl into trouble, just in case the charges against Thorne didn’t stick. “And what’s with the bonfire outside? I bet we’ll find that you’re burning evidence.”

  Tires screeched in the driveway. Thorne glanced at the window again. Surely he wasn’t thinking about...

  Thorne took two steps back, then made a running dive toward the window. The glass shattered. Lucy gave one warning bark and took off around the shed.

  When Sam got to the other side of the shed, Lucy was holding Thorne pinned to the ground about twenty feet from the window. He hadn’t gotten very far. Holden Joyce and several FBI agents ran through the hedge.

  “Let me go! I’m innocent!” Thorne thrashed, but Lucy held tight.

  Holden glanced from the broken window to Thorne. “Right. Innocent guys usually jump through windows to get away.”

  Sam called Lucy off, and the FBI agents cuffed Thorne and began reading him his rights. Sam took Holden to the wheelbarrow to show him the evidence.

  Wyatt, Jo, and Bev had managed to extinguish the fire and were pulling out melted scraps of duct tape.

  “Bag it all up,” Holden said. “The duct tape at the cabin was made with a certain adhesive that was defective. It was used for only a few months. If this matches, it’s one more thing we have against him.”

  “And your informant?” Sam asked.

  Holden nodded. “Hopefully he’ll come through. We’re going to need that. The duct tape is circumstantial, but it adds up.”

  “We have the golf shoes back at the station. Forensics might be able to find blood under those cleats if we’re lucky. Maybe epithelials on the inside that match to Thorne.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Holden said as they started back toward the FBI agents, who were now attempting to drag Thorne toward the car.

  “I demand to know what this is about!” Thorne screamed.

  “You’ve been read your rights. You’re being arrested.” Holden gestured toward the wheelbarrow, which was now outside surrounded by more FBI agents who were bagging the contents. “We have plenty of evidence showing you running a meth lab, and possibly enough to link you to a series of shallow graves.”

  Thorne bucked and tried to pull away from the agents. “I told you, I’m innocent.”

  “Sure you are,” Holden said, “You’ll get your day in court.”

  Sam stood beside Holden Joyce, watching them pull Thorne away. Thorne turned around, his face red with fury as he spit the words at Sam, “I’ll get you back, Mason!”

  “He’s protesting an awful lot about this,” Holden said.

  Sam watched as they shoved Thorne in the car. “Won’t take him long to learn that he can’t wriggle out of this easily. With what we have, we should be able to prove Thorne was at least involved with the meth lab, and hopefully we’ll find evidence on the golf shoes that will tie him to the killings. I’m not surprised he’s protesting, though. That guy is so arrogant he probably thinks he can just claim he’s innocent, pay off a judge, and get off.”

  Holden shook his head. “Considering he was caught destroying the evidence, I don’t think that’s going to happen. No judge in his right mind would take that payoff.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Dim lighting created a hushed sense of twilight in the hospital room. The only sound was the constant beeping of the machines.

  Sam leaned against the bedrail, looking down at the still body. “Well, we finally got Thorne.”

  Kevin didn’t answer, didn’t even twitch a muscle. Not that Sam expected him to. He hadn’t shown any signs of knowing anyone else was there on Sam’s previous visits, and Sam didn’t think he would now. But someday he would. Even though the doctor had said he’d lost so much blood it had been very traumatic to his system and he may never recover, Sam knew he would.

  Sam wondered if somewhere in there Kevin could hear him. Probably not. The trips he’d been making to update him were more for Sam’s benefit than for Kevin’s.

  Sam started to pace alongside the bed, his steps keeping time with the constant beeping of the heart monitor. “We have solid evidence for the meth lab. The FBI was able to match some things found in the abandoned cabin with things Thorne had in his shed. We finally got a search warrant to look through his house and office. Remember how many times we tried to do that before?” Sam glanced at Kevin as if he would magically answer the question, but he just lay there. The machines continued to beep.

  Sam turned and paced back up toward the head of the bed again. “Did I mention his wife was instrumental in helping us nail him?”

  Sam paced back down to the foot of the bed. “Yeah, and forensics found blood under the cleats of the golf shoes she gave us, so we’re well on our way for nailing him for being a serial killer, too.” Sam stopped the pacing and turned around. He frowned at the pale officer in the bed. “Though some of the details on that seem a little sketchy.”

  He shrugged and continued the pacing. “And of course, Thorne denies it all, especially the serial killings, but who wouldn’t? He could go away for a long time for those three girls. We’re just hoping there weren’t more.”

  Sam stopped at the head of the bed again, leaned on the railing, and looked down at Kevin. “Anyway, Harry still blames himself for what happened to you, so the sooner you wake up and ease his conscience, the better. He’s no spring chicken, you know, and of course Lucy misses you.”

  A slight movement made Sam’s heart leap. Was that an eye twitch? Sam leaned closer, staring at Kevin’s eyes. He could have sworn he’d seen a little flutter when he’d mentioned Lucy.

  “Kevin, can you hear me?”

  Kevin didn’t move. Had it been his imagination? He glanced at the machines. They were still beeping at the same rate. No alarms, no nurses running. Wouldn’t they have some monitors on Kevin to know if he was waking up? Wouldn’t someone come? He leaned in closer. “Kevin, buddy. Can you hear me? We need you back at the department.”

  But Kevin didn’t move.

  “Well, I just wanted to give you an update. The others are waiting at Holy Spirits to celebrate.” Sam turned to leave, then looked back at Kevin. “I wish you could join us. Maybe next time?”

  Sam caught a nurse in the hallway. “Is there any improvement with Officer Deckard?”

  The nurse smiled and shook her head.

  “I thought I saw his eyes twitch.”

  The nurse’s smile turned sad. “I don’t think so. He’s in pretty deep. It’s going to be a long haul for him. In fact, we’re moving him to a long-term care facility now that he’s stable.”

  Sam nodded. He knew Kevin’s brother had signed the paperwork to move him into Longview, but Sam was still holding out hope that Kevin would wake up before then.

  “Okay. Let me know if anything changes,” Sam said.

  “We will. Have a good night, chief.”

  “You too.” Sam turned and left, ready to join the livelier crowd at Holy Spirits.

  Jo was already on her second beer when Sam slid onto the bar stool next to her at Holy Spirits. She had been anxious for him to show up because she had important news that might help solidify the case against Thorne.

  “Sorry I’m late, I stopped to visit Kevin.” Sam signaled Billie for a beer.

  Jo glanced up from her own beer, hopeful. “Was there a change?”

  Sam shook his head. “Nope. I just like to keep him updated. The nurse said they might be moving him soon.”

  Jo nodded. “Yeah, I heard his brother signed the paperwork and closed up Kevin’s house for the winter. His badge and the stuff he got from the hospital is waiting for him
in your closet. You know, when he comes back.”

  “Hopefully that’ll be soon.” Sam accepted his beer from Billie. “I don’t know if he can hear me, but I was hoping the news about Thorne’s arrest would sink in and bring him back to us.”

  “Speaking of which, I have something that might help us.” Jo held the phone up, and Sam’s eyes widened. “Your sister?”

  Jo nodded. Bridget had finally replied to one of her texts, and much to Jo’s delight, she was still working on cleaning up her act. “She’s in a program. I broached the topic of her identifying the man she saw Amber with, but she seemed a little reluctant.”

  “Maybe we should give her some time,” Sam suggested.

  “Probably, but we may not have time. Isn’t Thorne fighting this and still insisting he was framed?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not too worried. We have evidence against him. I’m just glad your sister is okay.”

  Jo’s heart warmed at the genuine look of concern on Sam’s face. Guilt gnawed away the warmth of friendship. Now was the time to tell him about her other sister. Her gaze drifted over her shoulder to see Wyatt approaching. Darn! She didn’t want to do that in front of Wyatt.

  “Hey guys, this place is great!” Wyatt stood between Jo and Sam, looking up at the stained-glass window.

  “You’ve never been here before?” Jo asked.

  “Nope. I usually spend my time closer to home, but now that I work in White Rock, I guess this kind of is home.”

  “Nice job on the work you did on the Thorne case.” Sam shook Wyatt’s hand.

  Wyatt blushed. “Hey, just doing my job.”

  Jo studied Wyatt. He was modest and a good cop. Yep, things were gonna work out between them just fine.

  “I missed all the excitement, but I can still celebrate.” Reese appeared, a white paper bag in her hand. She passed the bag to Jo. “Brewed Awakening has jelly doughnuts again. I got you one.”

  Jo looked inside the bag and smiled. Then she closed it up. Doughnuts and beer? They really didn’t go together that well. She’d save it for later. Still, the fact that her favorites were back was a good sign. Jelly doughnuts, her sister in a recovery program, and Thorne in jail. Things were looking up in a big way.

  “Anyway, I got your text and just shot over to have a quick drink with you guys. I fed Lucy and Major, and they’re snoozing away at the station.” Jo had figured since she’d invited Wyatt she should invite Reese, too, so she’d texted her to see if she could join them.

  Sam laughed. “Are you sure? There’s no telling what the two of them could get up to with nobody there to referee.”

  “No, it seems things have calmed down between the two of them. At least Lucy let Major get within five feet of her food bowl tonight without growling.”

  “If you say so.”

  Reese ordered a shot of tequila and then turned back to Sam and Jo. “Bev Hatch stopped by the station. She said the last girl was identified. She was from Wyoming. She’s hoping maybe the parents will know something further that we can use in the case.”

  “That would be good.” Jo swigged her beer. It was almost empty.

  Sam held his beer up in a greeting toward someone behind Jo’s back. Judging by the scowl on Reese’s face, Jo didn’t need to turn around to see who it was.

  “What is Marnie Wilson doing here?” Reese gave Sam a pointed look.

  Sam took a swig. “Heck if I know. She’s campaigning now, so she’s probably trying to get the vote of the working people.”

  “You sure she didn’t come to see you?” Reese didn’t mince words.

  Sam made a face. “Why would she come to see me?” As if to prove his words, he turned back to the bar, away from Marnie.

  Reese looked toward the door. “Isn’t that your friend Mick?”

  Sam followed her gaze. “Yep.”

  “Come on, Wyatt. Let’s go grab the table.” Reese nodded toward a table that had just been vacated by a rowdy after-work crowd. “There isn’t enough room for all of us at the bar.”

  Reese and Wyatt passed Mick on the way to the table. Mick slid in on the other side of Sam. Billie had the whiskey glass on the bar before Mick’s butt hit the chair.

  “So what are you gonna do now that your favorite bad guy is in jail?” Mick asked Sam.

  Sam chuckled. “It’ll be a welcome break not to have to tangle with him.”

  “Do you think the construction will stop?” Mick asked.

  “I hope so. His wife is in charge now, and she seems a lot more environmentally friendly.”

  Jo picked the label on her beer. She certainly hoped so too. She hated the strip malls and hotels that were springing up around White Rock, but somehow she had a feeling that Beryl Thorne wasn’t exactly as friendly as Sam thought she was. There was something about the woman that gave her pause, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on exactly what it was.

  Mick leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “And did you find the item of interest?”

  Sam shook his head. “I was in on the searching of his home, his office, and the shed. I didn’t find the knife.”

  Jo’s gaze flicked from Sam to Mick. “He probably hid it somewhere. Is that really going to be an issue now that he’s in jail?”

  Sam’s jaw tightened. “Hopefully not, but he might have left it with one of his minions. Maybe he’ll try to use it as leverage to get a lighter sentence.”

  Mick tossed back his drink. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Oh crap, is that Holden Joyce?” Sam squinted into the mirror at the crowd behind them, and Jo followed his gaze to see the FBI agent making his way toward them. “I thought he would just go away once this case was over.”

  “I’ll let you guys talk shop.” Mick picked up his drink and headed to join Reese and Wyatt at the table.

  “Sam, Jo.” Holden shook their hands. He seemed quite happy, jovial even. A big change from the original Holden Joyce they’d met on the last case. Apparently capturing a serial killing drug dealer was good for his spirits.

  “How’s our favorite criminal?” Sam asked. “Still denying everything?”

  Holden blew out a breath. “Yep, but we’re getting more and more evidence. We’ve linked more of the supplies in the cabin to him, and we’re still working on an eyewitness.”

  “But what about the meth lab and the shallow graves? Is there anything more than that one leaf to link them?” Sam asked.

  Jo knew that one leaf wouldn’t be enough to prove that Thorne was involved in killing those girls. Even if they proved he was at the cabin, and they linked the cabin with the gravesites, it was all circumstantial. The golf shoes that Beryl Thorne had given them were going to be important evidence in the case.

  Jo glanced down at her phone, then finished her beer. Holden didn’t know about her sister yet, and she was going to keep it that way. She wasn’t going to volunteer her sister’s services until Bridget felt comfortable trying to identify Thorne. It was more important that her sister not have anything to stress over while she tried to get clean.

  “He’s screaming about a setup and suing the police department,” Holden said. “What’s a guy gotta do to get a beer around here?” He leaned over the bar.

  Sam signaled for Billie, then tapped Holden on the shoulder and pointed toward the table where Reese, Wyatt, and Mick now sat. “We’re over at that table when you get your beer.”

  “I’ll be there in a second too.” Jo held up her empty beer. “I need to order another one myself.”

  Holden slipped into Sam’s chair and leaned over the bar to catch Billie’s attention. “This one’s on me,” Holden said as they ordered the two beers.

  Holden spun his seat to face her. The look on his face made her uncomfortable. Then again, the guy had been acting weird towards her the whole case. Why should now be any different?

  “The evidence against Thorne isn’t exactly conclusive, but I know he deserves to be in jail. That said, he’s not the guy responsible for your sister.�
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  Jo’s heart knocked against her ribcage. Holden Joyce knew about her sister? Of course he did. That was why he’d been acting the way he had been. He’d probably known she’d also been conducting her own unauthorized investigation all these years.

  Holden nodded. “Yes, I know about your sister. And I talked to O’Reilly, too. I know you have some expertise in serial killers.”

  “Have you been checking up on me? Why?” Jo was miffed. What was the FBI guy angling at? Even though he hadn’t been such a pain in the ass on this case, she still didn’t really want to be friends.

  “When I was a rookie I had a serial killer case.” Holden’s eyes glazed over in a haze of painful memories. “We didn’t catch the guy. Ten children were brutalized and killed. I vowed that I would get him. I think he might be the same guy who took your sister.”

  Jo felt it like a punch in the gut. At first she was suspicious. Surely Holden Joyce was up to something. This was too convenient. She did the math in her head. Holden was about ten years older than her. He would have been fresh out of the academy and a newbie FBI agent when her sister was taken.

  She remembered the cases of the other children. Had Holden been searching for this killer his whole career, just as she had? No wonder he had been so diligent. He didn’t want to mess up again. And if what he was saying was true, then someone else believed that her sister’s abductor was still out there. She wasn’t alone.

  “The police never found any similar cases after Tammy was taken. They had always worked under the assumption that the man who took my sister was eventually caught and incarcerated for other crimes, and never admitted to taking her,” Jo said.

  “Is that what you believe?” Holden paid for the beers that Billie shoved across the bar and slid one to Jo.

  Jo studied his face. She was good at reading people. Holden wasn’t conning her. He was serious about catching this killer, and he valued her opinion. “No, I think the person is still out there.”

  Holden nodded. “I do too, but the guy who killed the women in these graves, it’s not him. And Thorne couldn’t have been the one who took your sister. He was in Europe backpacking during that time. He would have been very young.”