Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Jina tried to think of a way out of this mess. Cole didn’t have much to hold her on, but she wasn’t keen on being put through the system. There had been something about Bradley Crow’s eyes that had bothered her, but the rest of his face had not looked familiar. Maybe her imagination was running rampant. Her stalker had always worn a hoodie and had a shock of curly dark hair hanging low on his forehead. There wasn’t a lock of dark hair on his forehead in the picture of Bradley Crow. In truth, she’d only gotten a few glimpses of her stalker’s face, only seeing him from afar.

At first, she hadn’t thought much about seeing him lurking outside her school, then at the custard stand where she’d worked. But after a few weeks, she’d grown suspicious.

Her memory of the guy was that he was short, maybe five nine or ten, had a lean, lanky frame, and slinked around with his head down. She’d found him odd, but not in a threatening manner. Mostly like a nerd who had no idea how to talk to girls. Which was fine with her, as she wasn’t interested. She had mentioned him to Jaxon as he’d worked at the custard stand with her, and her friend hadn’t seemed overly concerned about hoodie guy either.

Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen her hoodie stalker after she’d taken that shot at him. At the time, she’d assumed she’d scared him off and that was the end of that.

Now she had no idea what to think.

“The Peabody exit is in two miles,” Cole said, breaking the silence.

She swallowed a curse. Keeping her promise not to swear with Cole around was difficult. The man was beyond annoying.

As much as she hated to admit it, he wasn’t giving her much of a choice.

“Fine. There was one suspicious incident from twelve years ago.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “But I don’t believe Bradley Crow is the guy involved.”

“Involved in what?” He sounded irritable, and she supposed she couldn’t blame him.

“I had a stalker incident my senior year of high school.” She hated talking about her past. Having a stalker, then being nearly raped only made her appear weak. In the years since, she’d prided herself on being strong and capable, which had earned her the position as the tactical team sharpshooter. “I don’t know his name. He wore a hoodie and slinked around, popping up everywhere I went.”

There was a long pause as he considered that. “Okay, so what happened? Did you report him to the police?”

Here was where things got dicey. “Not exactly. For one thing, Peabody didn’t have a robust police department like they do now. I believe we shared a police department with Surrey. And for weeks the guy didn’t do anything other than watch me from a distance. ”

Cole’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel as if he was losing his patience. “But he didn’t stop at watching you,” he finally said.

“No. He showed up one Saturday night at our house. My parents were gone, and Shelly and I were home alone.” She risked a sideways glance at him. His grim expression didn’t reveal his thoughts. “It was late, maybe eleven o’clock at night, when I heard a strange noise. I grabbed my father’s handgun and went to investigate. When I looked in my bedroom, the hoodie guy was climbing in through the window.”

“He entered your house?” Now Cole turned to look at her in shock. “What did you do?”

“I shouted that I had a gun. He didn’t move, so I fired at him.” She gripped her hands together in her lap. “That worked; he turned and ran away.”

“You missed?” Cole asked.

“Not exactly.” She cleared her throat. “I think I hit his arm or shoulder. There was blood on the right side of my window frame and another spattering on the ground outside. I followed the blood trail across the grass, then it disappeared near the road. It wasn’t nearly enough blood to indicate I’d hit an artery or anything like that.”

“And that’s when you reported the incident to the police?”

She didn’t answer, earning another scathing look.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “You didn’t call the police about a man trying to climb into your bedroom window.”

“No. I was worried I’d get in trouble for firing my father’s gun. Besides, I didn’t see him lurking around after that, so I was pretty sure I’d scared him away.” She forced a smile. “Mission accomplished. ”

His jaw tensed, and it was a long moment before he spoke. “Are you absolutely sure this stalker of yours doesn’t look anything like Bradley Crow?”

It was her turn to battle a flash of anger. “I was seventeen, Cole. I never saw his face up close and personal. It was dark in my room, which is likely why he’d tried to get in that way. I only remember he wore a hoodie and had dark, thick, curly hair that covered his forehead.” She wasn’t going to mention the weird eyes. “So no, I can’t say anything for certain. Except that the last time I saw him, he was running away. And for sure I didn’t bash him in the head, so I doubt he’s your dead guy.”

“Someone else may have bashed him in the head,” Cole said in a tight voice. “Did it ever occur to you that you may not have been his only victim? That he might have done the same thing to someone else?”

To her shame, she hadn’t. But she did her best to squelch the flash of guilt. “I never heard anyone mentioning it, but anything’s possible. However, after shooting and hitting him in the arm, I was convinced he’d keep his hands to himself.”

Cole didn’t respond to that. After a moment, she noticed he’d taken the Peabody exit. A flash of alarm hit hard.

“What are you doing? I’m cooperating, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but you can’t go back to your place, the gunman knows where you live.” His voice was calm. “You can sleep on my couch if you like. Or you can go to a hotel.”

“How about none of the above?” She resisted the urge to punch him in the arm. “I can take care of myself. Besides, the shooter probably won’t try again tonight. For all he knows, I’m still stranded out in the farm field.”

“Oh really?” He scowled. “You think he’s satisfied having missed you twice now? Or is it three times?”

“I’m not sure he was the same one outside my place, so that doesn’t count.” Why was she arguing with him? It was bad enough he’d derailed her plan to go to Madison; under no circumstances was she going to sleep on his sofa. Or anywhere else for that matter. “Drop me off at my place. Or I’ll just grab a rideshare to get home. I won’t use any lights, which should convince the perp I’m not there.”

There was still the possible threat to Mr. Glen, but it was late enough now that she hoped she wouldn’t have to worry about that until morning. Especially if she was able to sneak into the house in the dark.

The events of the past few hours were catching up to her. Every muscle in her body ached with a vengeance. Her soreness from the three kickboxing matches had been aggravated by rolling the Jeep. Her left shoulder throbbed from where the seatbelt had held her in place while she hung upside down.

Taking a hot bath in the dark wouldn’t be so bad. All she had to do was avoid falling asleep.

“I’m going on record in saying this is a bad idea,” Cole said, interrupting her thoughts. “But if you insist, I’ll take you home.”

“I insist.” She rested her head back on the cushion, belatedly adding, “Thanks.”

They traveled the rest of the way in silence. Only when he pulled up to the curb, a full block from her duplex, did he ask, “Do you want me to pick you up in the morning?”

“For what?” Then she realized what he meant. “You’re still going to Madison to interview my sister?”

“Yes. As a courtesy, I’ll take you with me as long as you don’t get in my way.” He turned to face her. “I’m not the bad guy here. I’m just trying to find answers to who this dead guy is and how he got buried on your old family farm. Bradley Crow might not be your stalker, but I still need to do my job.”

He was going out of his way to be nice, and most cops would not allow her to tag along on an interview. Biting back a sharp retort, she nodded and forced a smile. “That would be great. Thanks.”

“It’s past two in the morning now, so we won’t hit the road until nine. If that works for you?”

“I’ll be ready.” She pushed open her passenger-side door. “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sliding out of the vehicle, she looked around, then made her way swiftly to the duplex, keeping in the shadows as much as possible. As she silently entered the house, she realized she hadn’t called for a tow truck. Swallowing a groan, she decided to wait until tomorrow morning.

Confessing her role in shooting the stalker hadn’t been as bad as she’d feared. Yes, Cole had been annoyed with her actions, but he hadn’t hammered her over the head about her decision not to go to the authorities.

Yet as she crawled into bed, foregoing the soak in the tub, she knew there would be more to come. Cole might be understanding, but she doubted the rest of the Peabody Police Department would feel the same way.

She forced herself to relax her sore muscles, doing her best not to fixate on the sick feeling in her gut that the mistakes of her past were coming back to bite her in the butt.

The following morning, Cole rubbed his eyes, waiting for the coffee to brew wondering why on earth he’d agreed to bring Jina along while he interviewed her sister, Shelly Strom.

If his boss found out, he’d be toast. Especially if it turned out Jina’s stalker was the dead guy.

He didn’t think she’d lie about not being the one who’d bashed the dead guy’s head in. After all, she was a cop too. Sworn to uphold the law and protect the public. He believed she’d fired her father’s gun to scare him off, and really, it was a miracle she hadn’t killed the guy considering the close range.

Mike Pulaski, the MMA gym manager, had told him about Jina’s role as a sharpshooter for the tactical team. Apparently, she’d honed those skills after the stalker incident. After being a victim twice in a matter of years, he completely understood why she’d chosen the path of becoming a cop.

He even admired her for overcoming her past, but that didn’t mean her role in his investigation didn’t complicate things.

And who was this shooter anyway? He’d dug into Rory Glick’s past, found the guy on the sexual offender registry, and had read the police report. It had given him a surge of satisfaction to learn Glick had suffered a minor concussion from being struck with the laptop.

Score one for Jina.

There was no indication that Glick was in Wisconsin, but he would place a call to the Tulsa PD later to see if they’d had any trouble with the guy. He didn’t think there was enough evidence leaning toward Glick being the shooter to justify a search warrant for his phone or credit card records .

Had Jina’s old stalker returned? But much like suspecting Glick of being the shooter, why would the hoodie stalker show up to tail Jina after all this time? Twelve long years after the fact?

Especially since she hadn’t called the police to have him arrested? In Cole’s mind, the guy had gotten off easy with a minor injury. Why seek revenge now?

Belatedly realizing the coffee was finished, he poured himself a cup and returned to his kitchen table. He jiggled the mouse to bring the computer to life.

Maybe the motive was simple rather than complicated. Jina was stunningly beautiful, probably the most gorgeous woman he’d ever met. Certainly, she’d turned every guy’s head at the MMA gym. Maybe one of those two guys, Glick or the stalker, was just angry that she’d jilted them—shooting one and clubbing the other with a computer.

Anger and resentment could fester over the years.

Maybe one or both had been in jail for a while. And it was only once they’d been released that they’d come after her.

There was also a third possible scenario. That one of Jina’s more recent arrests had gotten out of jail and was seeking payback.

Lots of suspects with few leads to go on. He didn’t think the perp was a fellow cop because as Jina had pointed out, he was a lousy shot. She’d been standing by her Jeep in plain view when he’d fired his weapon.

No, more likely it was someone with a personal vendetta against her. Did that include any of the guys she ruthlessly put down on the mat at the gym? He hated to admit that these attacks against Jina were more likely to have stemmed from a more recent incident rather than something that had transpired years ago .

Thinking back, he hadn’t noticed any of the gym rats mouthing off about her. At least, not while he was around. He sent a quick text to Mike, briefly explaining the danger to Jina in case he was missing something.

Funny how he was driving himself crazy over a case that technically wasn’t his. Better for him to stay focused on the skeletal remains that had been unearthed on the former Wheeler farm. Having an ID for their vic was the first step. Hopefully, he’d hear from the ME’s office very soon. They had the fractured skull, and he had already asked for the jawbone and teeth to be compared with the missing Bradley Crow’s dental records.

Glancing at his watch, he decided it was well past time to hit the shower. As a peace offering, he’d stop for breakfast sandwiches and more coffee on the way to Jina’s. Despite knowing he shouldn’t be bringing her along to his interview of her sister, he was looking forward to seeing her again.

As soon as the thought formed, he winced. Not good. Was he out of his mind? He’d lost his wife, Renee, three years ago and had no intention of going down that path again. So why was he suddenly interested in Jina? She might be pretty, but she was pricklier than a cactus.

Besides, beauty was only skin deep.

Yet there was no denying he was intrigued by the beauty queen who could hold her own against a bunch of gym rats.

Enough. He wasn’t interested in Jina aside from getting information from her early years of living in Peabody. He’d grown up in Milwaukee, but Renee had lived in Peabody, so he’d transferred to the smaller and admittedly safer Peabody Police Department in part to make his wife happy. But now that he was working a cold case, he felt at a disadvantage. He hadn’t lived in Peabody twelve years ago. Any input Jina and Shelly could provide, especially regarding the people who’d lived in the area back then, would be great.

The two sisters might be close, but they lived their own lives. Despite Jina’s insistence to the contrary, he was banking on the possibility that Shelly would recognize Bradley Crow.

He dressed in what he considered his detective uniform—dress slacks, short-sleeved shirt, and a sport coat. The worst part about having a gold shield was dressing up. Give him the starchy police uniform any day.

After clipping his badge on his belt and sliding his .38 into the holster, he headed for the door. He’d sold the house he’d shared with Renee and bought this smaller place. At the time, he’d thought that moving would help him deal with the memories of their time together, but it hadn’t.

Renee had remained in his heart. It was only within the past ten months or so that he’d realized she hadn’t occupied his thoughts as much as she used to.

Giving himself a mental shake, he drove to the fast-food restaurant closest to Jina’s duplex for their breakfast. Then he navigated the six blocks to reach her driveway.

Seeing the house in daylight, he noted the property was well maintained. He slid out from behind the wheel, leaving the food and coffee in the car. He headed to the side entrance, only to stop abruptly as Jina appeared. The same overnight bag from last night hung from her shoulder.

“Hey.” She didn’t smile, and from the weariness in her features, he guessed she hadn’t slept well. “I saw you pull up.”

“No worries.” He tried not to be suspicious of her unwillingness to allow him into her personal space. “I stopped for breakfast sandwiches and coffee.”

“You did?” Her blue eyes brightened as she smiled. “Thanks.”

Ridiculously pleased by her response, and somewhat rattled over how striking she was when she smiled, he stepped back so she could come down the sidewalk. In contrast to his being on duty, she was dressed casually in blue jeans and a yellow T-shirt beneath a denim jacket. She wore her long hair down rather than in the usual ponytail. She also had her weapon clipped to her belt, and he assumed she didn’t go anywhere without it.

He went around to open her passenger door. She arched a brow but didn’t point out that she was perfectly capable of opening her own door. She dropped the bag on the floor and slid inside.

“The coffee smells great.” She reached for the cup.

“Cream and sugar packets are in the door if you need them.” He gestured to the side pocket.

“Nope. I’m good.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he closed her door and headed to the driver’s seat. The pleasant interlude would only last until they reached Madison, as he assumed she would turn into a mamma bear protecting her cub once he started to interview Shelly.

He shifted into gear and backed out of the driveway. “Who owns the building?”

“Mr. Glen. He’s a sweetheart.” She sipped her coffee, then set it aside. “What’s for breakfast?”

Before he could answer, his phone rang. He hesitated, then answered the call from Mike Pulaski. “Hey, Mike. I’m here with Jina.”

“Really?” The gym owner sounded shocked. “I got your text and just wanted to assure you that I have not heard anyone mouthing off about Jina. But that may be because I made it clear for the guys to keep their thoughts to themselves. That if they didn’t like getting their butt kicked by a woman, they should join another gym.”

Jina turned to look at him with annoyance, then spoke. “Thanks, Mike, but to be clear, I never thought any of the guys at the gym would be angry enough to shoot me.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I don’t think so either,” Mike said earnestly. “But I’m happy to help. Just let me know what you need.”

“I will,” Cole said. “Thanks again.” He ended the call, prepared for Jina to snap at him. But when he glanced at her, she was frowning while rifling through the overnight bag. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to think I’m an idiot, but I forgot my phone.” She shot him a chagrined look. “I left it on the charger in my kitchen. Sorry, but can we head back to the duplex?”

“Of course.” He made a quick U-turn to retrace their path. “I’m glad to know you’re human and not a Terminator.”

“Haha, very funny. That Terminator movie is older than dirt.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Normally, I’m not this scattered.”

“Like I said, it’s nice to know you’re human.” He frowned as he noticed dark smoke trailing up to the sky. “Do you see that? Something is on fire.”

“I see it.” She craned her neck to get a better look. “It is autumn, could be someone burning leaves.”

“Maybe, but the smoke is darker than I’d expect for that.” He quickly turned left, heading to the duplex. The cloud of smoke grew larger and darker as they drove. A sliver of apprehension slid down his spine .

“Not leaves,” Jina said in a terse tone, mirroring his thoughts. “Either a garage or a house is on fire.”

Silently agreeing with her assessment, he pressed the call button on his steering wheel and spoke. “Call 911.”

Seconds later, a woman answered the phone. “This is the 911 operator, please state your emergency.”

“I’d like to report a fire. We’re heading north on 120 th Street.” He glanced at the house numbers and rattled them off too.

“Yes, we have received several reports of a house fire in that area,” the dispatcher said. “Please stay away from the property. I have dispatched fire responders who will be arriving shortly.”

He ended the call without saying anything more. Two minutes later, he turned onto the street where Jina lived. His stomach clenched when he saw the two-story brown and tan duplex had black smoke pouring from the lower-level windows.

“Stop the car! Mr. Glen!” Jina pushed her car door open before he’d come to a complete stop. Then she sprinted toward the house.

“Wait! You can’t go in there!” He killed the engine, then quickly followed her to the house, the thick black smoke already obscuring his vision. “Jina!”

She had stripped out of her denim jacket and wrapped it around her fist as she punched through a window that wasn’t oozing smoke. After knocking all the shards of glass out of the way, she poked her head through the opening. “Mr. Glen! Mr. Glen, can you hear me?”

He lunged for her, grabbing her arm to prevent her from climbing into the house. The smoke made them cough. “Wait for the fire department,” he urged between hacking breaths .

“No! I need to find Mr. Glen!” With a quick move, she twisted out of his grip and crawled in through the broken window.

He glanced over his shoulder. The wailing sirens said help was on the way, but there was no sign of the fire trucks yet. Muttering about stubborn women, he followed her inside, praying God would spare their lives, especially her landlord, Mr. Glen.