Chapter Eight

Hayes wasn’t disputing that Jemma and he needed to speak with both Royce and Duane. Those three missing hikers and their dead parents could be the reason one of the men had wanted all the Outlaw Ridge cops murdered.

But which one?

Duane fit if he was covering up the hikers’ deaths either by his own hand or by someone at his school. Considering the complaints that Duane had filed against Outlaw Ridge PD over the death of one of his students, he would obviously go to any lengths to protect those in his charge.

Maybe his idea of protection included murder.

Royce fit though, too. As a dispatcher, he could have failed to report the missing hikers to Sheriff Bonetti, something that would have stayed hidden had it not been for the threat of Jemma digitizing those old police files. But that left Hayes with some puzzling questions.

Had Royce murdered those hikers?

Or was he covering for someone?

“Are Royce and Duane friendly?” Hayes asked Jemma. Of course, it would take more than friendliness to protect a killer.

“No,” Jemma was quick to answer, and then he saw in her eyes when she grasped the reason for his question. “Duane detests anyone or anything connected to Outlaw Ridge PD. He didn’t specifically name the dispatcher in his wrongful death complaint, but I recall Royce and him getting into a shouting match once when Duane showed up at the station.”

Hayes considered that a moment, and it put a possible dent in one of his theories—that the mass murders had been payback by Duane for his student’s death. Total payback should have included the dispatcher, a dispatcher he’d had a heated argument with. After all, the current dispatcher had been gunned down like the cops.

Was that an oversight on the killer’s part, or was Royce alive because he was the killer? Hayes didn’t get a chance to give that more thought because he heard a familiar voice.

“Owen,” Jemma and he muttered at the same time.

With Reed right behind them, Jemma and he headed into reception, and he saw his boss. Definitely not a hundred percent. Owen’s arm was in an elaborate-looking sling, and he had beads of sweat on his face. Not from heat, either. Hayes was betting this was from pain.

His boss wasn’t alone. Ruby was with him and so were two members of her team that Hayes recognized. Angel DeLuca and Presley Nolan. Hayes had worked with them on a recent mission to rescue a hostage, and he knew they were both solid. And they were former cops.

“Reed, put them to work on tracking down more info on those missing hikers,” Owen said, tipping his head to Angel and Presley. “They’ve still got the contacts at San Antonio PD to look into the suspicious deaths of the parents who filed the missing persons’ reports.”

Good. Because Hayes figured they’d been killed by the same person responsible for the hikers’ disappearances. Maybe also for the recent murders.

“We’ve already started the research,” Angel let them know. “And there’s only one student, Zander Emerson, who was at Duane’s school in Outlaw Ridge when any of the hikers went missing.”

“We’re getting a list of former students,” Presley added, taking up the explanation. “We’ll do phone interviews with all of them, and if we think one or more is a likely candidate for murder, we’ll meet with them face to face.”

That would be a huge undertaking, but if Angel and Presley could link Duane to the hikers’ disappearances, then that would give Duane a connection to the current murders. Well, maybe it would. Hopefully, Ruby’s men would be able to fill in some of the blanks about that.

When Reed, Presley, and Angel left to go into the dining room, Owen shifted his attention to Hayes and Jemma. “I called Royce on the drive over and said I needed a word with him. He’s on his way here. I’d rather speak to Duane though at the school because I want to get a look at the facility and talk to some of his students.”

Ruby huffed. “Obviously, Owen should be in the hospital or, as a minimum, on bed rest. He shouldn’t be driving to Duane’s.”

A muscle flickered in Owen’s jaw, and while he didn’t shoot Ruby a glare or even look annoyed, Hayes was betting this was an argument the two had already had.

“Hayes and I can go to the school,” Jemma offered. “And you can maybe sit down in the dining room and do the interview with Royce. In fact, you could maybe rest upstairs in your room while you’re waiting for Royce to arrive.”

“Excellent idea,” Ruby concluded.

Owen’s expression indicated otherwise. “If Duane isn’t the actual killer, he could be harboring one or more at that school. A visit there could be walking into an ambush.”

Hayes made a sound of agreement. “Which is even more reason why you shouldn’t be the one to go.” He motioned toward Owen’s injured arm. “Aiden, Jemma, and I can go. We’ll treat it like any other dangerous op and go in fully armed.”

Owen opened his mouth, maybe to argue, but then he closed it. He must have remembered this wasn’t solely a personal battle. That he had trained operatives, ones without gunshot wounds, who could get the job done.

“All right,” Owen finally said.

Ruby seemed to release a breath she’d been holding, and she placed her hand on Owen’s good arm. “Let’s find you a seat in the dining room so you can catch your breath before Royce shows up.”

That was a stellar idea. But it didn’t happen. Because at the exact moment, Hayes heard Declan shout out. “We got a visitor. It’s Royce, and I’m frisking him now.”

Ruby sighed and continued to lead Owen into the dining room. Hayes and Jemma stayed put, and it didn’t take long, less than a minute, before Royce came through the door.

“What happened?” Royce immediately demanded, directing that at Jemma. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Jemma motioned for him to follow them into the dining room. “The sheriff just has some questions for you.”

“The sheriff…?” he repeated. But then Royce must have recalled that Owen now had that title.

When they made it to the dining room, Hayes saw that Ruby had indeed managed to get Owen to sit down. He was at the table, and despite the injury, he looked ready for business.

“Have you Mirandized him?” Owen asked Jemma.

She nodded. “Do you need me to repeat that?” she said to Royce.

“No,” Royce muttered. “What’s this about?” He volleyed glances between Owen and her.

“Sit,” Owen insisted, pointing to the chair across from him. Someone, Ruby probably, had already moved chairs for Jemma and Hayes, placing them on each side of Owen, so they sat as well.

“What’s this about?” Royce repeated.

“Missing persons,” Owen supplied. “Three of them. Jacob Worthington, Kyle Furst, and Hailey Trainor. Tell me what you know about them.”

Royce repeated the names as if trying to jog his memory, and then he shook his head. “I don’t know anything about them.”

“Well, you should,” Owen insisted. “All went missing when you were the dispatcher. Jacob, two years ago. Kyle, a month later. And Hailey, sixteen months ago.”

Again, Royce shook his head. “No one reported them missing to Outlaw Ridge PD. If they had, it would have been logged in at the station, and the sheriff would have been alerted so he could assign a deputy to look into it.”

Owen made a sound that could have meant anything. “The county 911 calls are recorded, and each of these were phoned in. The county dispatcher would have forwarded them to Outlaw Ridge since the hikers went missing in this jurisdiction.”

“Well, they didn’t forward them,” Royce was quick to say. “Someone on the county end must have screwed up. Or else one of the other dispatchers did.” His gaze fired to Jemma. “Have you questioned…”

He stopped, no doubt recalling that the dispatcher, Kevin Granger, had been murdered.

“I have people contacting anyone who worked for either the county or Outlaw Ridge during this time,” Owen went on. “But the missing persons calls all came in during the day shift. Your usual shift.”

“Well, I didn’t get the calls,” Royce snapped, his voice a whole lot louder this time. “Something’s messed up. Or someone’s trying to set me up.” He looked at Jemma and then huffed when she didn’t jump to defend him. He huffed again when he shifted back to Owen. “Have you found the bodies of these hikers?”

“No, but I have a forensic team on the way out to look for them,” Owen said. Definitely no raised voice for him. He was in his usual cool and controlled mode. “If we find the bodies, then there could be evidence to prove what happened to them.”

“Whatever happened to them, I wasn’t responsible,” Royce snarled. Then, he stopped. “ Hikers ,” he repeated, and he gave a knowing sigh. “I’m guessing they were in that park near Duane’s?” But he didn’t wait for an answer. “Duane’s setting me up. I’m betting he killed those people and then dicked around with the county 911 records so that no one in Outlaw Ridge knew what was happening.”

That was indeed a possibility. And it was the reason they needed to make that visit to the school.

Royce stood. “I’ll help you look for the bodies. Hell, I’ll help in any way I can. But I won’t take the blame for something that asshole Duane did.” Again, he didn’t wait for them to respond. “Are we done here?”

Owen took his time answering. “For now,” he said, just as Hayes’ phone buzzed with a call.

“It’s Molly,” Hayes muttered, getting up so he could move to the other side of the room to take the call.

“We got an ID on the dead gunman,” Molly said the moment he answered. “Grady Thornton, age twenty-eight. Dishonorably discharged from the Army two years ago. Three arrests for assault.”

That name didn’t ring any bells with Hayes. “Please tell me he has a connection to one of our suspects.”

“Oh, he does,” Molly replied. “Grady Thorton’s most recent employment was as a bouncer at the Bluebonnet Brews in downtown San Antonio. And the owner of that pub is none other than Jemma’s stepbrother, Brooks Winslow.”