Killing Dreams: A Sam Mason Mystery Book 5 Page 5

  Sam glanced down at the papers. So many runaways. They’d found three bodies, and he hadn’t gotten a call about additional graves being discovered. Because of the way Lucy had acted he didn’t think any more would be discovered. He wouldn’t have left the scene if he did. He knew it would take the Staties and the FBI a while to figure that out on their own. Why subject himself to Holden Joyce’s scrutiny any longer than he had to?

  He felt bad about leaving Jo there, though. Jo had been acting a little off herself, and he’d wanted to swing by the Brewed Awakening drive-through to get her some jelly doughnuts. By the time he reached the store, they’d sold out of Jo’s favorites.

  Sam had bigger problems than jelly doughnuts and Holden Joyce. He had a killer on his hands. The fact that the graves were several years old didn’t lessen the urgency for Sam. The killer might still be out there. He could’ve moved onto a different area, or he could be lying low until his next killing spree.

  Sam had read that serial killers sometimes went dormant for years before starting up again. That wasn’t going to happen on Sam’s watch. He felt guilty enough that these crimes had likely happened during his tenure as chief. How had he not known that these brutal murders were taking place right under his watch? He owed it to the families and the victims to catch the killer.

  This case took his mind off Lucas Thorne. The drug dealer who everyone accepted as a prominent real estate developer had been on Sam’s radar for years. But Thorne was elusive, always getting someone else to do the dirty work, always a step ahead of the police. Sam had never been able to nail him for anything, and he’d tried hard.

  Sam took the papers and push pins to the cork board on the back wall of the squad room. Reese, who had gone back to the lobby, appeared at his side, more papers in her hand. “Wyatt emailed these photos of the crime scene. I thought you might want them for the board, so I printed them.”

  “Thanks.” Reese was turning out to be a great dispatcher and a big help around the station. She was still attending the police academy, so he couldn’t make her an officer yet, but he hoped they would have an opening when she graduated. She’d already been vital in solving a few cases, and her contacts at the academy sure came in handy. Plus, she knew the routine. Like with the cork board. Maybe some would think it old fashioned, but Reese knew it was part of Sam’s process and respected that.

  Reese went back to the front desk, and Sam got to work laying the photos out in an order that made sense to him. When he was done, he stood back so he could take them all in at once.

  Dirt-smudged bones, snatches of bright blue tarp, the weird pattern of holes, the bog birch leaf. The leaf was the big lead as far as he was concerned. These girls had been killed at a different location, and Sam needed to figure out exactly where that location was.

  “The search is breaking up.” Wyatt had come in and was now standing beside him studying the photos. “No other graves found.”

  “Well that’s a relief. Kind of figured when Lucy stopped sniffing.”

  “Me too.”

  Sam turned around and frowned. “Where are Jo and Lucy?”

  “She was talking to Holden Joyce when I left. Bill McGovern gave me a ride back.”

  Sam turned back to the photos. He tapped the one of the leaf and scrolled to the information page on his cell phone where he’d looked up the bog birch earlier just to be sure. He held the phone up to the photo. “I think this is a big clue. The bog birch is incredibly rare in New Hampshire. We need to figure out if it grows anywhere near here.”

  “I’m on it.” Wyatt quickly headed to his desk.

  Wyatt was eager to help. Sam couldn’t blame him. He was new in the department, and they hadn’t exactly included him in the last takedown mostly because they hadn’t worked with him much and Sam wanted him to have more experience before they had to rely on each other in a dangerous situation. But Wyatt was turning out to be a smart cop. Sam was confident that he would be a valuable addition to the team.

  The lobby door opened, and Lucy bounded into the squad room. She stopped beside Sam, who bent to pet her. Atop the filing cabinet, Major hissed, and Lucy side-stepped to the other side of Sam. Jo followed closely behind. Dirt smudged her nose, and a strand of her coppery hair had escaped the confines of her ponytail to coil around her face.

  “They’re done. Only three graves. Lucy did a great job.” She went over to her desk and reached into the drawer, pulling out a treat that she tossed in the air. Lucy jumped up and caught it in her mouth. Major did more hissing.

  Jo turned to him. “You haven’t done anything, so I’m not giving you a treat.”

  “Don’t be mean to him, he’s very sensitive,” Reese yelled from the lobby.

  Jo turned to Sam, her hands on her hips. “Thanks for leaving me stuck with Holden Joyce.”

  Sam cringed. A jelly doughnut peace offering would really come in handy right now. “Hey, that’s a benefit to being the boss.”

  Jo rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. Sam felt relieved. Jo was just teasing. And now she didn’t seem as distracted as she had when they were out in the woods, but her eyes kept darting toward his office.

  Maybe something had happened out there that she wanted to tell him about privately. Did it have to do with her meeting with Kevin’s brother? That would explain her odd behavior at the crime scene. Or maybe something had happened with Holden Joyce. He wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had somehow concocted some twisted reasoning that made Sam the perpetrator in these killings. He should probably make up an excuse to get in the office and hear her out, but he didn’t want Wyatt to think something weird was going on between them. Maybe he could think up a—

  “Hey, Sam, you ready for a lunch date?”

  Lunch date? Crap. Sam had forgotten all about that.

  Marnie Wilson came around the post office boxes, Reese following behind her with a sour look on her face. Marnie had probably breezed right past the dispatcher, who liked to protect them from unannounced visitors.

  Sam glanced back at the cork board. He didn’t have time for lunch. He was in the middle of an important investigation.

  “Sorry, Marnie, I forgot all about it. I don’t think I have time. We just discovered…” He didn’t really want to tell Marnie Wilson the details. They would be all over the news shortly, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to be telling the general public about the case. Even though Marnie was running for mayor, she was still just a civilian.

  “Oh,” Marnie’s face fell, her eyes drifting to the cork board. “I’m sorry. Harry said that I should come by and I just…”

  Darn it. Harry had said this would be a personal favor to him. Guilt crushed Sam’s resolve. He’d given Harry his word, and Marnie had made a special stop.

  He supposed it was his duty as chief of police to find out what Marnie was about. With the former mayor dead and the acting mayor someone Sam definitely did not want in office, he needed to figure out who he should put his vote behind.

  He didn’t know much about Marnie. What were her causes? Would she give the police department the necessary funding? Harry liked her because she was for senior citizens’ programs. But what else was she for? Or against, for that matter?

  This investigation could go on for a long time. If ever there was a time to take a break, it was now because they only had one lead and Wyatt was working on it. Until he discovered where the bog birch shrub grew, Sam didn’t have much to do but think. And he could think over lunch as well as anywhere else.

  “Why not go, Sam?” Wyatt asked. “We still need more information from John, and I’m following up that lead. I think we’ve got it covered, right, Jo?”

  Jo, now seated at her desk, the eraser end of her pencil tap-tap-tapping on the wooden surface, her face expressionless, muttered, “Yeah, of course we’ve got it covered. Go ahead.” Did he detect a hint of annoyance?

  Sam glanced back at the cork board, then at scowling Reese. He had the distinct impression that Reese did not like Marnie Wil
son, but he had no idea why.

  He could never figure women out. Was it jealousy? Marnie was a handsome woman in a no-nonsense kind of way. She was about the same age as Sam, maybe a little older, but well preserved. Attractive. Not that Sam was looking. After two failed marriages he didn’t want to go down that road again, especially not with someone running for mayor. But he was getting hungry, and he supposed he should hear her out. And it would appease Harry.

  “Okay. But I can’t take a long time. You know, public servant and all.”

  “Of course not. I totally understand,” Marnie hooked her arm through his. “I already have a reservation at Silo’s.”

  Sam looked back over his shoulder as Marnie propelled him toward the lobby. “Wyatt, text me the minute you find anything.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jo’s gaze drifted to Reese as Sam and Marnie disappeared around the bank of brass post office boxes. Judging by the look on the dispatcher’s face, she didn’t like Marnie Wilson any more than Jo did.

  Jo wasn’t even sure what she didn’t like about the woman. It was just a gut feeling. She hadn’t talked to her much, but Jo felt as though Marnie was one of those who told you what you wanted to hear. She was a politician, after all, and wasn’t that the way with all politicians?

  Maybe it was just Jo’s aversion to politics that made her feel Marnie couldn’t be trusted. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the way she was obviously flirting with Sam. Sam and Jo were friends, nothing more, though she didn’t want to see her friend get caught up with someone untrustworthy. She thought Sam had better instincts.

  What was this business about a date, anyway? In the middle of the day? In the middle of a case? Sam had looked surprised when Marnie came waltzing in. More than likely it wasn’t a date but something arranged by Harry Woolston. Harry had been trying to get Sam to talk to Marnie for months now. This was pretty bad timing, but better now before they got involved in chasing down leads.

  Jo pushed away her disappointment. She’d wanted to tell Sam about her sister before things really started to heat up. She’d have to wait for another opportunity. Maybe Sam wouldn’t even want to be bothered about her old case with this mess on his hands. Still, she should tell him. Even though it had nothing to do with the current case, it was the right thing to do, if only to stop the guilt of not being totally straight with Sam.

  As if sensing Jo’s conflicting thoughts, Lucy came over and put her head in Jo’s lap, looking up at her with warm brown eyes. The dog had an uncanny knack of knowing when someone needed a little comfort.

  “You did a good job today.” Jo stroked the soft fur on Lucy’s forehead.

  “It’s a lot of work running around in the woods. She’s probably hungry.” Reese reached into the cabinet above the coffeemaker for Lucy’s bowl and food. The sound of kibble clanking on stainless steel caught Lucy’s attention. And Major’s, too, judging by the way he stood and stretched his long legs in front of him, his eyes glued to the bowl.

  Reese placed the bowl in the corner where they usually fed Lucy.

  Meow!

  Major leapt from the filing cabinet, raced to the bowl and immediately started chowing down.

  “Hey, that’s Lucy’s food! You have your own.” Reese pulled a smaller bowl out of the cabinet along with a can of cat food. The metallic sound of the pop tab top caught the attention of Lucy, who had been standing a few feet away from Major as if afraid to approach him. Lucy had already suffered a bloodied nose from Major’s razor-sharp claws, and apparently even defending her dinner wasn’t enough to make her want to repeat the experience. Major kept eating, unfazed by the opening of the can. Apparently he preferred dog food.

  Lucy flicked pleading eyes at them.

  “I’ll distract him for you, Lucy.” Wyatt opened his drawer and took out a mouse-shaped toy. He approached Major cautiously, dangling the toy by its tail in front of him. At the sight of the mouse, Major lifted his head, and his tail swished back and forth. Suddenly his paw shot out. He skewered the mouse, knocking it out of Wyatt’s hand. The mouse flew through the air. Major scampered after it, catching it and rolling to the ground.

  Lucy approached her bowl with one eye on Major.

  Reese added some more food to make up for what the cat had stolen.

  “Looks like you have Major’s number,” Jo said.

  Wyatt shrugged. “I think he likes me. Maybe because I wasn’t there when everything went down with his owner. You gotta feel sorry for him. Everything he knew has been uprooted and he’s in unfamiliar territory. He’s probably just trying to figure out how he fits in.”

  Jo’s estimation of Wyatt ticked up a notch. Anyone who was an animal lover couldn’t be half bad.

  Wyatt was right about the cat. The poor thing was in unfamiliar territory, probably uncertain of its fate. She felt sorry for Major and vowed to be kinder toward him, to let him know he was among friends. Her thoughts drifted to the cat that had been appearing on the porch of her small cottage. That cat wasn’t overly friendly either. She’d been trying to earn its trust by putting out treats and not trying to pressure it too much. Maybe the same tactics would work with Major.

  “Well, you sure know how to distract him.” Reese pointed toward the cat, now flopped in the corner and rolling around with the mouse, ignoring Lucy’s food.

  “It could be the catnip I put inside the toy.” Wyatt smiled and waggled his brows. It was the first time she’d seen him joke, and Jo noticed that he was really kind of cute when he smiled. He was too young for her by about ten years, but it was nice to know he had a sense of humor and was starting to feel comfortable enough around them to show it.

  “Hey, whatever works.” Jo watched the cat as he padded to the plush cat bed in the corner with the toy in his mouth. He circled the inside of the bed, then plopped down. He looked comfortable. “Maybe we should get catnip toys for all of us. They seem to have a calming effect and this case is going to be a doozy.”

  Wyatt’s gaze drifted from the cat to Jo. She saw a determined, steely look in his green eyes. Was he studying her a little too closely? No. She was getting paranoid after all the questions Holden Joyce had asked.

  “You can say that again. Don’t worry, though, we’ll find out who did this. We have to.”

  Wyatt could tell he was earning points with his colleagues by the way he’d handled Major. The cat hadn’t exactly been the friendliest creature he’d ever seen, but he figured it was with good reason. He was adjusting, just as Wyatt was.

  Wyatt was starting to feel more comfortable in White Rock. He could tell that Sam and Jo were starting to trust him. But he also sensed a weird undercurrent between them. Mostly with Jo. She’d acted off at the search site this morning, and then when she’d returned to the station he got the distinct impression that she was jittery about something. Maybe she had a secret too.

  But even if she did have a secret, he felt confident that she and Sam really cared about this case. They were good cops. Cops with compassion. Cops who cared about justice. Not all cops felt that way, as Wyatt had discovered early in his career.

  A surge of pride bubbled up inside him. Looking into where the bog birch shrubs grew was the first important task Sam had entrusted to him. That was a sign that Sam saw him as an important part of the team.

  As disturbing as this case was, he wanted to be a big part of investigating it. That might help him atone for things and prove that he wasn’t a product of his lineage.

  That atonement was important to him because when it came right down to it, that was why he’d come to the small northern New Hampshire town—to right wrongs. In a small-town department he’d get a chance to do real investigative work. Not be relegated to traffic duty as he had been in the city.

  Plus, the pace and laid-back lifestyle in White Rock suited him. The people were nice. Friendlier than in the city, for sure. The rolling mountains, lush valleys, and sparkling lakes and streams were a welcome break from expressways and skyscrapers.


  And working with Lucy was an added perk. He’d become quite attached to the dog in the short time he’d been here. He even liked having Major at the station, even though the cat was less than companionable. You’d never see a cat in a big city police force, but everyone knew animals helped with stress. Right now the tension between Lucy and Major was causing a little stress. Wyatt was sure it would all smooth over eventually.

  Wyatt had been disappointed not to be included when they tracked down the mayor’s killer. If Sam had included him, things might’ve gone differently. Maybe Kevin Deckard would be sitting at his desk right now instead of lying in a hospital bed.

  But he understood why Sam hadn’t included him. He was new, and Sam was still feeling him out. In intense situations like that, it worked best to have fellow officers whose actions and motivations you were familiar with because often one had to react on instinct and had to be able to anticipate the other officers’ reactions.

  He’d gained some level of acceptance now, which was good. He wasn’t going to sit back and relax, though. He had to do good work and to earn his keep, as his mother had always told him.

  Lucy finished her meal without incident. Major was zonked out in his bed, the catnip mouse between his paws. Lucy cast him a weary glance before trotting into Sam’s office, no doubt to seek out the patch of afternoon sun that slanted through the large windows.

  Major let out a snore. It looked like the cat was feeling more at home, just as Wyatt was. The two of them were on the same track.

  Wyatt turned back to his computer. He didn’t want to waste any time. Finding the location of the bog birch might reveal where the victims were killed. And if they could discover where the victims had been killed, they might find clues that would lead them to the killer. This might be the most important task of the case and perhaps the most important of his entire career thus far.

  Chapter Ten

  Sam fiddled with his fork and silently cursed Harry. He’d rather be back at the station or out fishing or just about anywhere but sitting with Marnie Wilson in a fancy restaurant. Never mind that he had an important case; he wasn’t exactly the fancy restaurant type. Give him a burger and a beer at the local watering hole and he was happy. But he’d promised Harry, and Sam kept his promises. At least he was getting this over with.