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“Oh, after hearing where you came from originally, I figured as you love this SUV so much, you must have driven it from DC.” She held up her cellphone. “I’ve been going over our case files. If we decide Angelique Booval is our vigilante, we are going to have a problem. We can’t arrest her in Blackwater; we have no jurisdiction.”
Kane drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Why is this a problem?”
“If she is our killer, and realizes she is a suspect, she might leave the state; then we’ll have a bigger problem.” Jenna regarded him with a serious expression. “It wouldn’t look so suspicious if I interviewed her alone. I’ll wear my com device so you’ll hear the interview and can prompt me if I forget anything vital.”
“Okay, but if you took a Blackwater deputy with you then they could make the arrest if necessary.” He glanced at her then moved his concentration back to the road. “We’d have to go through due process to bring her back to Black Rock Falls anyway, but I’m sure the Blackwater sheriff will do what he can to help.”
“Good idea but she’ll have to be a female deputy.”
He shrugged. “After the disturbing interview I had with Lizzy Harper, I think you’re right.” He cleared his throat. “You mentioned profiling people to find suspects. Lizzy Harper is on the top of my list for being the vigilante. She radiates anger and has killed before. Sure, we need to pinpoint her whereabouts at the time of both deaths, but we do know she was in town when both murders were committed.”
“Oh, she’s on the top of my list, and Pattie McCarthy is running a close second.” Jenna snorted. “She looks fit enough to run the distance from my house to the road. Both of them are vindictive enough to have thrown blood all over your front door and threatened you over the phone.”
The voice on the GPS told them to take a right at the next intersection and Kane slowed the SUV to take the corner. She was correct: The women had become defensive the moment they laid eyes on him. Both appeared to be fit and able to sprint if necessary. He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, and both live in town.”
Signs of habitation came into view and soon the GPS advised him he had reached his destination on the right. He pulled up in front of a brick building and did a visual sweep of the main street. “Rowley said the sheriff’s department is across the road from the community health center, which is right here.”
“Yeah, I can see it, down there on the left past the pizza place.” Jenna unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to him. “Go and speak to the social worker and I’ll head down to see the sheriff; it will save time.”
“Okay.” Kane pushed open the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk. “Do you mind calling me when you’re ready to leave?”
“I could just meet you back here?” Jenna gave him an inquisitive stare.
Kane cleared his throat. “You know social workers, always trying to psychoanalyze everyone. I might need an escape clause.”
“Ha! Sure, I’ll call.” She headed down the street, shaking her head.
As Kane entered the building, he heard police sirens wailing and kept walking. Not my problem. He spoke to the woman at the desk then strolled along the passageway to find the room number. To his surprise, the door was open, and seated on a sofa inside was a willowy blonde, engrossed in a magazine. Her carefully made-up face lifted in his direction and she crossed her long, tanned legs. His attention lingered on the white stilettos, with straps around the ankles, and the long bare thighs peeking from beneath a tight white skirt. He dragged his gaze away and knocked lightly on the door. “Ah, Miss Simpson? I’m Deputy Sheriff Kane from Black Rock Falls. Do you have time for a quick word?”
“Yes, of course. Deputy Rowley called to tell me someone would be dropping by this morning.”
“I have someone in my department who suffered trauma earlier in the year. We have nothing to help in Black Rock Falls and I was wondering if you have any support groups in the area?”
“That depends on the trauma.”
Kane clasped his hands in front of him. “Kidnapping, attempted rape, and murder.”
“Male or female?” She eyed him critically. “It makes a difference. You see, women often refuse to open up in front of men.”
Kane gave her his best concerned stare and leaned forward in his chair. “Female, and it will take some convincing to get her to attend b
ut I want to try.”
“Then you must try to persuade her to make an appointment with me. We do have various help groups but what you are describing requires specialist help.” She smiled but the humor did not go to her eyes. “Group sessions, if any, are held under the supervision of a therapist in the strictest of confidence.”
Kane could see from her defensive posture he would get no information from her. “I see. I will speak to her and ask her to contact you.” He stood. “Thank you for your time.”
As he strolled toward the front door, he heard a deep voice issuing orders through a megaphone and took in the chaos happening in the middle of town. Deputies’ cruisers blocked the street and in the middle of the road, a man held Jenna to his chest with a pistol pressed against her temple.
39
Time seemed to stand still as Kane pushed his way through the gathering crowd with their cellphones held high, seemingly unconcerned for their own safety. “Move.” He pushed a man to one side and elbowed his way to the front of the crowd. After a year of fighting the effects of PTSD, the last thing Jenna needed was a maniac holding a gun to her head. Something was going down and she had neglected to call him. He noted Jenna’s Glock was missing from her holster and ground his teeth. What the hell had happened? No way would she give up her weapon.
Catching sight of a gray-haired man holding a megaphone over the roof of a cruiser, he shouldered his way to his side. “Are you the sheriff?”
“Yeah.” The man turned to look at him. “Sheriff Johnson, and you must be Deputy Kane?”
Kane’s attention did not move from Jenna. “Yes, sir. What’s the situation?”
