Page 7

Chapter 7

“And this is a liability?” Nick smiled, and his eyes sparkled in the lights from the haloed streetlamps. “I see it as an asset.”

“Sometimes. But it comes with its own baggage.” She turned away from the impact of him in a muscle-hugging black T-shirt. Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked a few steps, the cold beginning to spread from her feet up into her arms. “Do you mind if we head back?”

“Lead the way.”

She took off at a light jog, not the driven run she’d started with. The exercise had the desired effect, and she was back in control, for the most part. If only she didn’t have Nick dogging her every step, she’d relax and think through her panic in the hotel room and her reaction to being held in Nick’s arms.

To be honest, she had needed him like she needed a life raft in a stormy sea. However, needing people always interfered with her judgment. This case required her full attention and sound conclusions.

As they approached the hotel, Nick pulled up alongside her and placed a hand on her arm to stop her. “Do you hear that?”

She strained to hear the faint wail of a siren. “Sounds like a fire truck.”

Nick patted his side. "Damn, I left my cell phone back at the room."

"And you feel naked without it?” She chuckled. “Me, too. When I’m working a case, I like to be on top of everything."

"Absolutely. Come on." He stretched his legs into ground-eating strides.

Brenna began to appreciate how much he'd held his pace in check for her. The added exertion kept her concentration rooted on Nick's backside and the tight muscles beneath gray sweats.

When they arrived at the hotel, they took the stairs two at a time, arriving at the door to the room in a full lather and breathing hard.

With a quick swipe of his key card, Nick swung open the door. Before they took a step to enter the room, an electronic ringing sound greeted them.

Nick raced to the bedroom where he’d dumped his duffle and grabbed his cell phone from the bedside table. "Tarver."

Brenna hovered in the doorway, blatantly eavesdropping.

"Damn." He glanced over at Brenna. "How bad is it?"

Brenna fought to breathe quietly, though she was still winded from her mad dash back to their suite. She wished she could hear what was going on.

"We'll be there in five." He ended the call and stared across the room at her. "That fire engine we heard outside was headed for Dr. Drummond's office."

For a moment Brenna couldn't respond past the lump lodged in her throat. She swallowed and asked, "Anyone hurt?"

"No, the office was empty."

"Except for any evidence we might have gathered. What are you waiting for?" She grabbed her keys and a jacket and headed for the door.

“We’ll meet Paul and Melissa at Drummond’s office.” Looping his leather jacket over one shoulder, Nick jogged down the hallway and out of the building with Brenna right behind him.

They accomplished the short drive to the doctor’s office in silence.

Red, blue and amber lights flashed, and the street was jammed with fire trucks and emergency vehicles. Forced to park around the corner and a block away, Brenna shut off her engine and got out. The overwhelming scent of smoke assailed her senses. Bright orange flames shot up over the top of a two-story office building still blocking their view. Brenna stood for a moment, tamping down the urge to run in the opposite direction.

“You okay?” Nick slid an arm around her waist.

“Yes. I wish you’d stop asking me that,” she snapped, angry with herself for the flash of panic. With Nick beside her, she didn’t have to face the blaze alone, and that comforted her.

As images of the charred remains of her grandmother’s barn flashed through her memory, she prepared herself for the worst.

Brenna let Nick lead her forward and around the corner. The firefighters shot steady streams of water from two directions directly into the center of the building. The flames were beaten down until all that remained was black smoke churning and mixing with the low-lying clouds, spreading sideways instead of dissipating into the night sky.

They stood for a moment, getting their bearings with the people scattered around the scene. Three individuals broke away from the fire chief and moved toward them—Paul, Melissa and Chief Burkholder.

“The fire chief says the office is a complete loss,” Chief Burkholder said.

“All the files are gone? Everything?” Brenna pressed a finger to her temple, the stench of wet plaster triggering a headache of migraine proportions. She fought the pain by taking deep breaths and concentrating on the chief’s words.

“Chief Freund thinks this fire was set deliberately, based on the confined intensity of the blaze emanating from the office where the files were kept.”

“Someone didn’t want us to get into those files,” Nick muttered beneath his breath.

“I’ll get hold of Mrs. Keckler and find out if there were any backups stored offsite.” Brenna pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket and frowned down at the screen. “I’m still getting used to this danged thing. The bureau gave me this phone before I left. They can track it.”

“So, they can keep track of you at all times?” Nick’s mouth curved upward on the ends. “Not a bad idea.”

“Whatever,” she shrugged. “Since the note came to me, the bureau decided I might be in danger. I would rather they had used my personal cell phone. I’m not used to this brand and operating system. I sure don’t need to waste time figuring out.” She finally found the contact list she’d accessed earlier when she’d asked Mrs. Keckler for her personal number. Brenna placed the call.

At the second ring, she glanced at her watch. It was just after nine. The woman shouldn’t be in bed yet.

Mrs. Keckler answered. “Hello.”

“This is Brenna Jensen. I regret to inform you there’s been a fire at Dr. Drummond’s office.”

“Oh my God.” Her voice could be heard yelling to someone in the house with her, “There’s been a fire at the office!”

“Mrs. Keckler, I need your assistance.” Brenna tried to get her attention.

“Yes, of course. What can I do? Do you need me there?”

Brenna glanced at the charred shell of a building. “No, there’s not much you can do until after the fire department finishes up.”

“I suppose not. So, what do you need from me?”

“Are there any backups of the patient files kept off site?” She held her breath, praying for good news after so much bad.

“Why, yes.”

“Thank God.” Brenna tipped her head back and breathed deeply, the headache easing. “Where, Mrs. Keckler? Where are the backups?”

“In a safe deposit box at the First Interstate Bank on Main Street. I download a backup of the computerized records every night onto a flash drive and deliver it to the bank the next day. I know it’s archaic, but Dr. Drummond didn’t feel comfortable putting patient information in the cloud.”

Brenna clutched the phone to her ear. “Do you mean to tell me you might have a copy of the records at your house?”

“I know I made a backup today but let me check to ensure I brought it with me.”

Brenna heard a click, as if Mrs. Keckler had laid the phone on the counter and walked away. In the background, Mrs. Keckler yelled, “Honey, where did I put my purse? Never mind.”

Brenna tapped her foot and stared around at the fire crew. Nick stood to the side, his gaze intent on her, making her warm all over in the cool night air. How did he do that?

“Yes!” Mrs. Keckler came back on the line. “I have the drive right here in my hand. But I’ll need a court order to release it to you.”

“I know.” Brenna’s gaze locked with Nick’s. “You’ll have that court order within the next hour. Don’t go anywhere and don’t let anyone in your house until you see my face at your door.”

“Do you think I’m in some kind of danger?”

“Mrs. Keckler, until we find the man who murdered Dr. Drummond, no one in Riverton is safe.”

“Oh my.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I’ll lock my doors and wait for you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Keckler.” Brenna ended the call and smiled for the first time in what felt like centuries. “She has a copy of the computer files. We should at least be able to get names of the patients.”

“Good. Let me check with the fire chief, then we’ll track down the county judge for that warrant.” Nick picked his way through the crowd of emergency personnel to the fire chief.

Brenna followed.

“Chief, how soon will we be able to get in there and see if we can salvage anything?” Nick asked the fire chief.

“It’ll be at least the morning before we can get in,” Chief Freund answered. “Has to cool down before our fire investigation team can get in and determine a probable cause.”

“Thanks, Chief.” Nick turned to Paul. “I want you here first thing in the morning searching through whatever’s left.”

“As they say in the great state of North Dakota, you betcha.” Paul gave Nick a mock salute and stayed with the chief as Nick and Brenna walked toward Melissa.

“Melissa, first thing tomorrow, I want you to scan the local online news sources and crime databases for arson cases in the area. And get some rest. I have a feeling there’s going to be more trouble before we’ve seen the end of this.”

“Yes, sir.” Melissa headed toward Paul, and they walked away together.

Chief Burkholder joined Nick and Brenna. “I know where Judge Tyler lives. If you’ll follow me, we can get there in less than ten minutes.”

“Good.” Nick shoved a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “We need to get to the backup files before someone else decides they’re fair game.”

“Right.” The chief stopped next to an unmarked black sedan. “I’ll wait for you at the corner.”

Brenna and Nick jogged the rest of the way to her Jeep and then pulled in behind the police chief.

“Any idea what we’ll be looking for in those files?” Brenna turned at the next street, following two car-lengths behind Chief Burkholder. “We already know we don’t have a match between my convictions and her list of patients.”

“I don’t know, but my gut tells me he’s in there. We might also get Chief Burkholder to look at the information. Maybe he’ll know some of the patients.”

“I lived here almost all my life, but in a town the size of Riverton with a constant flux of people coming and going from the university, I may or may not recognize every name.”

“I’m not worried about the ones you don’t know. This guy knows you, and there’s a good chance you know him.”

“Yeah, but I might not. God, I hope I do. I’d rather face a poisonous snake in the open than an unknown snake in the grass.”

“Precisely.”

Brenna parked curbside behind the chief’s SUV in an upper-middle-class neighborhood and turned off the engine. “This must be the place.”

Chief Burkholder was already at the door, ringing the doorbell when Nick and Brenna stepped up behind him.

“Who is it?” a woman’s voice called out from behind the wood and glass-paneled door.

“Chief Burkholder, Riverton Police Department. We need to see Judge Tyler.”

“Oh. Okay.” The bolt rattled, and a classy-looking white-haired lady opened the door. “Please come inside and wait in the living room. I’ll find my husband.”

Brenna, along with the chief and Nick, remained standing in the nicely decorated entryway filled with antique furniture and family portraits.

Still dressed in her dirty sweats, her feet cold and wet, Brenna didn’t want to touch anything.

Tall and hefty, with a thick thatch of striking white hair, Judge Tyler emerged from a room on the other side of a sweeping staircase. “Tom, good to see you.” He held out his hand to the chief.

The chief turned to Brenna and Nick. “Special Agent Brenna Jensen of the Bureau of Criminal Investigation and Agent Nick Tarver of the FBI.”

Brenna shook the judge’s hand.

“I knew your father. Good man.” His words, like his hand, were warm and firm.

Brenna swallowed hard and nodded.

He held her hand a little longer in a light grip. “You’re not doing so bad for yourself, are you? I saw you in the news... What was it, two weeks ago?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Caught the Tate murderer. I’m glad you’re on the case.” He patted her hand and let go. Then he turned to Nick. “And the FBI, did you say?”

Nick took his hand. “Agent Tarver, sir.”

“This is about the warrant to search the psychiatrist’s files?” the judge asked.

“Yes,” Chief Burkholder said. “Dr. Drummond’s office was burned to the ground a few minutes ago.”

The judge’s eyes widened. “Does this mean you don’t need the warrant after all?”

“On the contrary. The good doctor had the foresight to keep backups. Only I’d like to get to those backups before another house goes up in flames or we lose another citizen of Riverton.”

“Another?”

“Dr. Drummond was found in Eagle Lake this morning.”

“Damn. I was hoping we’d find her alive.” The judge scraped his hair back from his forehead, the lines around his eyes deepening. “I knew Dr. Drummond. She was a good woman, and she even did some volunteer work for the City Council. Not to mention all she did through her practice for the people of Riverton.”

The chief nodded. “Yes, it was a shock to us all.”

“This is very disturbing. Any word on Dr. Gomez?”

Chief Burkholder shook his head. “None. Plus, we had another woman reported missing last night. A Michelle Carmichael.”

“Carmichael?” Judge Tyler pushed away from the wall. “As in the big shot real estate agent?”

The chief nodded. “That’s the one. You know her?”

Judge Tyler squinted and scratched his chin. “No, but it seems I saw something about her in the newspaper recently. Is she dead, too?”

“We don’t know, but based on notes the killer sent to Special Agent Jensen, we have reason to believe he might have been one of Dr. Drummond’s patients.”

The judge shook his head. “I have the warrant already signed and ready for you. I was going to deliver it in the morning, but it looks like you could use it now.”

While the judge retrieved the document, Brenna thought through what he’d said. “Chief, did you happen to see the write-up in the paper that Judge Tyler was talking about? The one with Michelle Carmichael in it?”

“No, I don’t recall seeing it. Why?”

“Nothing. I just wondered.” She might be chasing air, but when she got back to her computer, she’d look through the online newspaper records and see if she could glean any pertinent information from the story. And while she was at it, she’d look for anything on Dr. Drummond and Dr. Gomez.

The judge returned and handed the warrant to the chief.

Chief Burkholder tucked it into his inside jacket pocket. “Thanks, Larry.”

“No problem, Tom. Let me know if I can help you in any way. I hate to think this is happening to our people.”

The chief nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “You and me both.” As soon as they exited the judge’s home, Chief Burkholder handed the document to Nick. “Go get that thumb drive.”

In the Jeep, Brenna pressed her foot to the accelerator, slowing only for curves and turns.

Nick sat next to her, holding tightly to the handle above his door. “I take it you’ve driven on wet, icy roads before.”

“I cut my driving teeth on these roads. And, if you remember, I was a street cop before I went to work at the Bureau. I know my vehicle’s limits.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She slid around another curve without batting an eyelash, set on getting to the information Mrs. Keckler had before anyone else learned of its existence.

At the next corner, Nick banged shoulders with her. “Do you think that file will have gone somewhere in the past twenty minutes?”

“I don’t want to take any chances. We waited too long to get into Dr. Drummond’s files. We can’t risk losing the backup.”

“Agreed.” His grip tightened on the handle as he braced himself for the next turn.

Brenna gained a minor amount of enjoyment from shaking up the tough Nick Tarver. Too many times during this incredibly long day, she’d leaned on this man’s broad shoulders. A bad habit she had to curtail, or he’d think she was incapable of doing her job and boot her off the team. Because this case impacted her hometown and the people she loved, she had to work it and find the bastard. She chewed on her bottom lip. If only she’d gotten that information from Dr. Drummond’s office sooner, she might already have a lead on the maniac.

“Stop it,” Nick said.

Brenna took her foot off the accelerator. “What?”

“Stop second-guessing yourself.”

Resuming her speed, she asked, “How did you know?”

His brow descended. “You get that look on your face.”

“What look?” She dared a quick glance at his face.

“You bite your lip and frown.”

“I do not.” She bit her lower lip and frowned. “Okay, so I do. It’s not a crime.”

“Maybe not, but it makes me nervous when you’re driving.”

Her lips lifted on the corner. “So, I’ve found a way to test the great Nick Tarver?”

“Don’t go there.”

“Not to worry. I won’t do a three-sixty with you in the car. Besides, we’re here.” She pulled the Jeep against the curb next to a small cottage tucked beneath a stand of trees. The porch light shone brightly, and all the windows were lit up like a shopping mall.

“Do you think Mrs. Keckler is a bit unsettled by all this?” Nick asked.

“I would be if I were her.” Brenna slid from the Jeep and trudged through the slush and water. Her feet squished in her tennis shoes, reminding her she hadn’t had a chance to change since her jog, and her toes were past numb.

The curtain next to the window twitched, and Mrs. Keckler’s face appeared. Two seconds later she flung the door open. “Oh, thank God you’re here!” The woman embraced Brenna like a long-lost relative, her thick arms crushing the air from her lungs. When she pulled back, she had tears glistening in her eyes.

“Is anything wrong, Mrs. Keckler?” Brenna asked.

Mrs. Keckler dug into her pocket and pulled out a tissue. “No, it’s just all that’s happened, what with Dr. Drummond’s murder and the building burning. I don’t know what to do, and frankly, I’m scared.”

Tears pricked at Brenna’s eyes. This was her hometown, too, and it was terrifying to know there was a killer among the good folk who’d lived here all their lives. She slid an arm around Mrs. Keckler’s shoulders. “We’ll get him.”

“I hope it’s soon. I don’t know if I can live like this. I’ve been so worried I couldn’t sit still for a second.”

Nick handed her the warrant. “Mrs. Keckler, could we relieve you of the backup files?”

“Oh, yes, please!” She fished in her other pocket and yanked out a thumb drive. “Here. Take this before I have a heart attack, or somebody decides he wants it bad enough to kill me, too.”

Nick took the shiny black drive. “Thank you, ma’am.” He nodded at Brenna. “Let’s check this out and see if it’ll give us a clue.”

“The password’s LuLu1948.” Mrs. Keckler gave them a sad smile. “The doctor was born in 1948, and she used to have a beagle named Lulu. It helped her to remember. Call me if you have any trouble getting into the files.”

Brenna pulled a pen from her purse and jotted down the information. “Thanks, Mrs. Keckler.” She said her goodbyes and headed for the Jeep.

Once inside, Nick turned to Brenna. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

Brenna shot a startled look at him. “I don’t remember. This morning, maybe?”

“Let’s stop on the way and grab a quick bite. I’m hungry, and I bet you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Now that you mention it, I am a bit hungry.” She glanced at the digital clock on the dash where bright green numbers flashed eleven o’clock. “Not that we’ll have many choices at this hour. This isn’t D.C. or Chicago. In Riverton, North Dakota, restaurants close promptly at nine o’clock on weeknights.”

“The chief recommended a bar down the street from the police station that’s supposed to have the best buffalo wings this side of the Red River.”

Brenna’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. She remembered the place. It was the same place she’d met Victor over two years ago. How could she tell Nick she didn’t want to go there because of the bad memories associated with the place?

She didn’t, choosing to keep her mouth shut and her eyes on the road. Besides, what were the chances of running into her ex-lover on a Monday night?

With extreme restraint, she managed to drive past the police station without stopping. Her gut told her to pull into the parking lot and let Nick take her car from there. But then she’d have to explain why she wasn’t hungry all of a sudden, and she wasn’t ready to own up to a bad love affair. Especially not to Nick, who’d turned her inside out with just one kiss.

The Rusty Nail Tavern was located a block off Main Street in the older section of Riverton. The building was one of the Historical Society’s landmarks. For as long as Brenna could recall and as many owners as it had seen, it had been a bar.

Nick held the door for her to enter the dark interior.

“Want to sit in a booth?” he asked.

The last time she’d been in the Rusty Nail was with Victor, and he’d always insisted on sitting in a dark corner booth. She’d thought he just wanted to be alone with her, until she’d learned he was married. “Let’s sit at the bar.”

Once seated, Nick asked her for her preference and ordered spicy wings.

Brenna risked a look around the room, half expecting to find Victor there. When she didn’t see him, she relaxed a little, chuckling beneath her breath at the absurdity of her fear.

She hadn’t seen him in two years, and even if she did run into him, they were no longer an item. After he’d told her he was married, she’d lost all respect for the man. Of course, he hadn’t bothered to tell her until after they’d spent the night in his hotel room.

“If you’ll excuse me, I want to wash my hands.” Brenna slid from the stool and made her way down a darkened hallway to the ladies’ restroom.

Inside, she stared at herself in the mirror. The dark circles beneath her eyes and her sweat-and-smoke-matted hair didn’t help her appearance. She never went out looking this shabby. What must the bartender think of her in such a state? What must Nick think? Not that she cared. She was too tired to care about much. Nevertheless, she ran her fingers through her hair and splashed water in her face. Once she felt a little more presentable, she left the bathroom and walked straight into a man in the hallway.

“Excuse me,” she said and backed away.

His hands went out to steady her. “Brenna?”

What were the chances of running into an ex-lover in a town with over fifty-five thousand people? Brenna’s luck hadn’t been the best lately. She should have known better than to tempt fate. “Hello, Victor.”