Page 13

Chapter Twelve

Nate

Malcom kept the dead cat incident on the down-low. Even with that tragedy, our team was still the winner, much to Delia and Gabe’s joy. Needless to say, Perry was far more somber. Malcom was apologetic and told Perry he’d do what was needed to find out if the cat’s death was due to natural causes or if something more nefarious happened. He also promised to make sure the cat was cremated and taken care of after death. I think that mollified Perry a little, but it was barely enough to erase his frown.

I wanted to speak with Malcom alone, but Perry needed me more. Besides, if the gift was one of Willie’s calling cards, that meant he was close by—watching and waiting. I didn’t want to leave Perry’s side for an instant.

Interestingly, park ranger Hank Shelton was the one who investigated the scene. He’d come out of the woods carrying a plastic bag with the remains. Delia assured me Gabe was headed to a local veterinarian and would return shortly. I didn’t know how long it would take to get the results. I wasn’t even sure if the local vet would do the necropsy or if the cat would be sent elsewhere. I had a colleague who’d worked a domestic violence case where the family dog had fallen victim. In that case, the dog was taken to Purdue and the Disease and Diagnostic laboratory had gotten involved.

Thankfully, lunch was another boxed-food affair. Perry and I didn’t eat in the pavilion. We took our lunches back to our cabin and sat on the porch. Perry was unusually silent. Having no idea what to say, I kept the peace, and we ate our sandwiches in the shade.

I was on my last bite when my phone rang, Nat’s ringtone attached. Swallowing my food, I answered with, “What have you found?”

Nat didn’t balk at the questionable greeting. “More than I hoped,” Nat answered. “Jerry Hank Shelton, age thirty-nine and originally from Columbus, Ohio.”

“So far, that tracks.” A lot of people, men especially, used their middle name instead of their first. That didn’t set off any red flags.

“Yeah, he didn’t lie about anything he told you. Hank Shelton is still married, although he’s currently in the middle of a pretty nasty divorce. I can’t imagine he’d be interested in taking out a life insurance policy on himself to aid his wife.”

Perry scooted his chair closer. If we weren’t outside, I would have placed the call on speaker phone. As it was, I held it up and tilted the phone so Perry could hear too.

“Perry’s near, Nat. He’s listening in.”

“Hi, Perry.” Nat’s tone immediately softened before hardening again. “Before you ask, I do know some of the specifics regarding the divorce. Looks like this is Hank’s second marriage. He’s got two children from the first marriage. I’d need to do a little more digging, but I don’t think he’s seen them in years. That ex moved to Florida and per the divorce records I can find, he has no claim or visitation rights with the children.”

I jerked back before leaning into the phone again. “Was he denied them?”

“As far as I can tell, he never tried to obtain them.”

That was odd. Most couples fought tooth, nail, and claw over the children. Many a domestic homicide claimed fear of losing child custody as its root cause. Parents rarely gave up their parental rights willingly.

Perry’s voice was soft when he asked, “Does he have any children with his current wife?”

“Not biological. His wife entered the marriage with two daughters. They are currently eleven and fourteen.” Nat cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, her words were laden with disgust. “I found information regarding possible child molestation.”

Perry sucked in a disbelieving breath. I wish I felt as shocked. If current accusations were true, it might go a long way to explaining why the first Mrs. Hank Shelton grabbed her kids and fled. It might also explain why Hank hadn’t sought custodial rights. If something like that happened with his own children and his first wife had any proof, threatening the release of that evidence would go a long way to getting Hank out of the picture.

When Perry and I remained silent, Nat continued, “Child molestation is the claim, Dawn, the current Mrs. Shelton, listed as the reason behind the divorce. From what I can find, the case has been investigated, but it’s more of a he said, she said contest. Not sure if that’s why or not, but Dawn’s eldest child is currently in therapy. She was hospitalized and under suicide watch for two weeks back in March.”

I scrubbed my hands down my face. The world could be such an ugly place, and sometimes, the weight of all that foulness slammed into me. I wasn’t sure if the charges were true or not. Whatever the case, Dawn’s daughter was suffering from something. I could only hope the care she was getting would help see her through her dark times.

“Sorry,” Nat apologized needlessly. “I know that’s shitty information.”

Perry gave me a concerned glance before answering for both of us. “It is, but we needed to hear it.”

I wasn’t sure needed was the right word, but the sentiment was accurate.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Just this: I’m not sure if it was simply due to the scandal, or if Hank’s previous employer believes the accusations, but he was fired from a decently lucrative job, and it wasn’t as a park ranger. He worked for that company for twelve years. That’s a long time to fire someone over suspicion alone.” Nat’s implication was clear. Hank’s boss believed the charges could be true and hadn’t backed his employee. He’d cut Hank loose and told him to get lost. Hank’s response was to scamper across state lines and take a job in a state park—teeming with children.

My gut sank, and suddenly, the situation became more immediate. My gaze wandered around our little encampment. Since this was a work retreat, no one brought their children, but the park had another campground and we’d seen plenty of kids out wandering the trails during our scavenger hunt. Most of them were accompanied by their parents, but that wouldn’t always be true, especially with the preteens. It was supposed to be a safe environment.

Hank would need to be a convicted sex offender to wind up on a registry. An accusation didn’t equate to a conviction. A simple background check wouldn’t throw up any red flags.

“It’s currently just hearsay, Harmon. You and I both know a lot of bullshit gets thrown around during divorces. By then, the love is long gone, and all bets are off. There’s a chance Dawn’s accusations aren’t true. I can’t get access to the daughters’ health records or what they are currently in therapy for.”

“They?” Perry asked. “I thought it was just the older girl.”

“The oldest is the one that was hospitalized, but they’re both in therapy.”

“Oh…” Perry looked at me. He’d taken off his sunglasses, and his eyes squinted against the bright sun beyond our shaded porch. I saw him rub his temples and knew pain was brewing behind them.

I almost hated to ask, but still inquired, “Anything else, Nat?”

“Not that I’ve found. I’ll keep digging. You and I both know there’ll be more dirt on this guy.”

My grunt was agreement. Perry rubbed his left temple again, and this time, the action was accompanied by a tightening of his lips. Pulling the phone back toward me, I asked, “Can you hold on a minute, Nat?”

“Sure,” she easily answered.

Shifting the phone away from my mouth, I turned my attention to Perry and asked, “You okay?”

Perry frowned before lightly shaking his head. “Not really.”

“Migraine?”

He nodded and then winced. “Yeah. Not too bad yet, but it’s gearing up.”

“Why don’t you take some meds and lie down for a while? If Malcom has more planned for today, he’ll understand why we’re not participating.”

With a heavy sigh, Perry pushed out of his chair and headed for the door to the cabin. I counted it a win that he didn’t apologize for his migraine. When the screen door closed, I brought the phone back to my mouth and said, “Perry’s getting a migraine. He just went into the cabin to take some meds and lie down for a bit.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Nat answered genuinely.

“Yeah, but given what happened today, I’m not surprised.”

“Why, what happened?”

I spent the next five to ten minutes rehashing the dubious end of our scavenger hunt. Nat listened and offered well-placed curses. When I finished, she said “That’s too fucking coincidental.”

I didn’t disagree. “I need to speak with Malcom. I’m not sure when he placed the clues, but I can’t imagine the cat was there when he placed this one.” I suspected Malcom was a lot of things, but above all those suspected personality flaws was his one shining redemption. Malcom cared about Perry. Given Malcom’s previous relationship with Perry’s father, at least now I had a category to place that caring into. Maybe it was out of respect for Perry’s deceased dad, or maybe it was because Malcom saw his role as a father figure. I wasn’t sure about the details. What I did understand was that it was a familial type of caring.

Malcom didn’t want to hurt Perry. Especially not in such an incredibly cruel way.

“And if we’re going down the road I think we are, how did Willie know that would be the hunting path you were assigned?”

Nat was correct. The separate groups had drawn lots prior to the hunt. Delia drew for our group. As far as I knew, our path was completely random.

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling a tension headache coming on. It would be nothing like Perry’s battle, but I needed to take some ibuprofen soon. “You’re right.”

The line was silent for a beat before Nat said what I was thinking. “You know what this means, right?”

“If it really is Willie, then he’s keeping close tabs on us. He watched Malcom place those clues, and then he followed our group to figure out which hunt Delia randomly picked.”

“Bingo,” Nat agreed.

“But where the fuck is he?” I shook my head in irritation. “I haven’t seen a single hint of him, and trust me, I’ve been looking. I’m fucking paranoid. On top of that, Delia was with us. Gabe too. If they—”

“Maybe they did know,” Nat said, voice cool and exceedingly calm.

My mouth gaped, and I spluttered. “Then why didn’t they say something?”

“Not sure.” I could visualize Nat’s shrug. “I get the feeling this whole thing is a game to them. Do they want Perry hurt? No. I believe as much as you that they want to protect him. However, protection means different things to different people. In the end, their main goal is properly firing Willie Slater. They know his mind better than we do.”

I gripped my cell phone hard enough to crack the screen. “I hate this.”

“I know you do. Listen, Nate, I can pack my shit and be there in less than four hours. You just say the word. Captain Barrington will give me leave. You and I both know that won’t be a problem.”

I did know. What I also knew was that Russ and their kids were looking forward to having Nat home more while I was away. I couldn’t steal her. Not yet.

“Thanks, Nat. I may take you up on that, but not yet. Keep your go-bag ready, though.”

“I’ll have it on standby.”

“Thank you, I . . . Well, shit.”

“What? What’s going on now?”

I sighed, my tension headache ramping up. “Gotta go. Dr. Schroder’s on her way to the cabin.”

“The shrink?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I should have expected this.” The woman was almost to the porch. “Let me know if you find out anything else.”

“You’re on speed dial,” Nat answered before ending the call.

I lowered my phone to the railing as Dr. Lydia Schroder came to the bottom step. Her gaze traveled the small porch, lips pinched and glasses set low on her nose. Oddly, I had seen neither hide nor hair of her since her original greeting when Perry and I’d arrived. I would have thought she’d be present at the personality test yesterday afternoon.

“Dr. Schroder,” I greeted through gritted teeth. The woman could probably tell I wasn’t all sunshine and roses seeing her on our stoop. I couldn’t gather enough fucks to care.

“Detective.” Dr. Schroder saw my greeting as an invitation onto the porch. I didn’t offer her Perry’s empty seat. “I’m so sorry. Malcom just told me what happened, and I wanted to come by and see if Perry was okay and if he’d like someone to talk to.”

I valiantly tamped down my annoyance. When it came right down to it, I didn’t know Lydia Schroder well enough to figure out if she was being genuine or not. She seemed sincere. If that were the case, then I needed to box up my irritation and be congenial.

“That’s kind of you, but I’m afraid Perry isn’t up to speaking with anyone right now.” I tapped my temple and added, “He’s trying to stave off a migraine. He went into the cabin a few minutes ago to take some medication and sleep it off.” I was itching to join him.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. I hope this migraine isn’t too bad.”

They were all bad, but Dr. Schroder was right; some were definitely worse than others, or at least some lasted longer than others. The key was getting ahead of them. I’d been down this road with Perry enough times to understand the process.

“Hopefully not,” I agreed.

I also hoped that would be the end of the conversation. Instead, Dr. Schroder took the unoffered chair. She was short enough that her toes barely hit the wooden slatted porch when she sat. “And how are you holding up, Detective?”

I blinked, taken aback by the question.

“I… Fine,” I finally managed.

Dr. Schroder tsked. “No need to play macho with me.”

My lips quirked and I dearly wished Nat were here or I’d kept her on the phone so she could hear that bit of nonsense. I don’t think anyone had ever accused me of that masculine malady before.

My stunned silence didn’t deter the good doctor. “Being the caregiver, the constant source of strength, can be very draining. While I have no doubts regarding your affections for Perry—”

“I love him,” I corrected her. “It goes far beyond affection .” I’m not sure why, but that simplistic word got my hackles up.

Dr. Schroder seemed nonplussed. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to make light of your feelings. But my point stands. It can be emotionally wearing, especially when you are constantly looking over your shoulder for threats.”

At my raised eyebrow, Dr. Schroder waved me off. “Malcom hired me to care for the mental well-being of his staff. I am well aware of Mr. Slater’s personality concerns and the effects his actions are having on you.”

My other eyebrow rose to meet the first. I was beginning to believe Dr. Lydia Schroder had a knack for understating situations. “ Personality concerns? The man is psychotic.”

Dr. Schroder’s smile didn’t meet her eyes. “Yes, well, let’s leave the diagnosis to the professionals, shall we?”

My mouth slammed shut, and my teeth ground to the point of pain. The tension in my shoulders ramped up, sending aching shots of pain to my temples. With a strained smile of my own, I said, “Of course. I didn’t mean to overstep. I suppose I’m simply basing my conclusions on Willie Slater’s penchant for murdering his chosen victims in the most vile and heinous ways possible. There’s also his tendency to play with his victims, enjoying the windup and the torture before going in for the final kill. I apologize if calling the man psychotic was too harsh.”

Instead of getting upset, Dr. Schroder waved me off and kicked her nearly dangling legs. The smile lighting her face this time appeared genuinely amused. “No offense taken, Detective. Given that Willie has your fiancé in his sights, your anger is expected and understandable. It can even be healthy as long as it is not taken too far.”

Too far? I wasn’t sure how my rage could go too far where Willie Slater was concerned.

Slapping her hands on her thighs, Dr. Schroder rose and said “I think that helped a little. You got some tension off your chest, and I daresay I’ve learned a few things also.”

Seemingly pleased with herself, Dr. Schroder skipped down the porch steps and moved quickly toward the central firepit. She skirted around it and disappeared into the pavilion.

When she was no longer in sight, and my mind had calmed enough to think through my next move, I rose and walked into the cabin. Quickly finding my bottle of ibuprofen, I popped a couple of pills, washed them down with water, and headed to the bedroom.

The overhead fan was whirling away, along with a fan on a pedestal that oscillated back and forth across the bed. Perry was splayed out, down to his boxer briefs again. His eyes were pinched, and I didn’t think his slumber was as peaceful as I wanted it to be.

Stripping down to my boxers, I climbed in beside him. Despite the heat, I draped an arm over Perry’s chest. I didn’t try and pull him closer, I simply wanted, or maybe needed, the contact. Perry didn’t so much as twitch. The meds he’d taken made him sleepy and would hopefully allow him enough rest to rid his head of the migraine.

Lying on my side, I stared at Perry’s profile as I followed him into slumber.