Fugitive Hunt, page 7
She would do whatever it took to put an end to this manhunt.
* * *
Colt tried to imagine Winston wearing hiking boots with lifts in them. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume the guy had tried to change his appearance.
Yet why not use a little makeup to minimize the scar? It was difficult to make sense of Neal’s observations, yet Morganne was right about the guy being a decent witness.
“We should have Neal work with a sketch artist,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Good idea. I’ll call my lieutenant and see if he can get that arranged.”
Colt drove slowly through Jackson, listening as Morganne made the call. He was glad she placed the call on speaker so he could hear both sides of the conversation.
“The bartender is a good witness,” Morganne said. “It would be a good idea to arrange for him to work with Barb, our sketch artist.”
There was a heavy sigh. “Yeah, okay, I’ll add that to the list.”
“We also found out Kay Fisher has a boyfriend, a guy by the name of Doug Levine. I know you’ve been swamped, but any idea if he has an alibi for the time of Kay’s murder?”
Colt could hear the lieutenant typing on a keyboard. “Yeah, I asked Officer Yevich to swing by his place of employment to talk to him. Levine works at one of those dude ranches outside town.”
“That’s great. It would be good to check Levine off the list of suspects.” Morganne glanced at Colt. “No sign of Kay’s Nissan Quest? Or Silas Winston’s Chevy Impala?”
“No, but I’ll be honest, my resources are stretched pretty thin. We don’t have many officers left doing basic patrol.”
“I know.” A flash of guilt darkened Morganne’s gray eyes. “But you’ve looped in the state patrol, right?”
“Of course.” The lieutenant’s voice was testy. “And if we don’t find this guy soon, I’ve been told to call in the FBI first thing Monday morning.”
Colt winced but didn’t protest. Morganne looked similarly dismayed. “I understand. We’ll keep looking for him. If he’s here in Jackson, we’ll find him.”
“Do it, and soon.”
“Yes, sir. If you need something, let me know.”
“Hang on, Kimball. Just got a text message from Yevich. He’s at the Sundown Ranch and has learned Kay’s boyfriend, Doug Levine, didn’t show up for work today.”
“Really?” Morganne’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Is Yevich heading to Levine’s home?”
“Yep. Look, I gotta go, the chief is calling.” The lieutenant abruptly cut off the call.
“Didn’t show up for work, huh?” Colt glanced at her. “That sounds a bit suspicious.”
“It does, yes. But he could just be sick or something, right?” She didn’t sound convinced.
“True.” Colt prided himself on keeping an open mind, but deep down, he was fairly certain Winston was the guy who’d killed Kay Fisher. He swallowed a frustrated sigh. “I guess we’ll learn more once your fellow cop heads to his place. For all we know this is nothing more than Levine sleeping off a late night of partying. It would explain how Winston found Kay home alone.”
Morganne didn’t say anything, her gaze focused on some point in the distance. Finally she turned toward him. “Are we wrong about all this being related to Blaine?”
“I don’t think so. At least, that’s what my gut is telling me. But getting to the truth is the point of doing an investigation, right?”
“Right.” She shook her head. “There isn’t anyone else I can think of who’d want to shoot me through my bedroom window.”
“And that was the starting point of this.” Well, technically, Kay Fisher’s murder may have come first. And when exactly had Silas been injured? Was he still alive, being held hostage by Blaine? Or had he already been killed, his usefulness over? They needed to follow up with the Rock Springs police department to request additional information from that crime scene.
In his mind, all roads led straight to Blaine Winston. Neal had either gotten the guy’s height wrong, or the killer had added lifts to his shoes, but the longer Colt stayed in Jackson, the more he believed Winston was here, doing his best to hide in plain sight.
“Where to?” He glanced at Morganne questioningly. “Any ideas?”
“Maybe we drive around a bit, see if we can spot the Nissan. I have the license plate number on my phone.” She grimaced. “After talking to my boss, I’m feeling guilty not being out on patrol. No small surprise that no one has spotted it yet.”
“No reason to feel guilty. We’re actively working the case,” he reminded her. “We found Kay’s body and interviewed the eyewitness. Trust me, we’re doing our part to help find Winston.”
“There is that,” she agreed. “We also need to check in with Blaine’s old buddies, Vince Lange and Owen Plumber. But pull over, would you? I need a few minutes to find their addresses.”
“Not a problem—” His comment was cut short by the crack of gunfire, followed by the shattering of their rear window.
“Go!” Morganne shouted, ducking down in her seat.
He hit the gas hard. The SUV responded by leaping forward, the rear wheels spinning and catching on the asphalt.
The second shot hit one of the rear tires, sending the SUV careening out of control. As they slid sideways and landed in a ditch, Colt prayed God would keep them safe.
And that Blaine wouldn’t reach them before they could get away.
SEVEN
Even though she was wearing her seat belt, Morganne’s head sharply struck the side of the window as the SUV rolled down into the ditch. For a moment she didn’t move, but then the reality of their tenuous situation spurred her into action.
“Colt? Are you okay?” She unfastened her seat belt and grabbed his arm. He looked as grim as she felt. “We have to get out of here.”
“I’m okay.” There was blood on his temple, probably from flying glass. He turned in his seat to face her. “My door is blocked by the ditch. We’ll need to go out on your side.”
She pushed her door open, hearing the grinding of metal against metal. After scrambling through the opening, she crouched next to the vehicle and covered Colt as he emerged. She marveled at how he’d taken a moment to grab the binoculars from the glove box.
“The shots came from behind us,” she whispered. “We need to head west toward the mountains. I think that must be where he’s hiding.”
“I agree. But there isn’t a lot of cover until we reach them,” Colt cautioned. “Give me a minute to try to find him as we wait for backup.”
“You can try to find him, but the department is stretched to the max. No way can we wait long enough for my lieutenant to free up officers from two crime scenes. We need to move, now, before Blaine gets away.”
Colt didn’t look happy, but he reluctantly nodded. He took precious minutes to peer through the binoculars before lowering them. “No sign of him yet. Follow me.”
She watched as Colt darted from the vehicle to the closest tree, then from there to the corner of a garage. She followed his path, mentally braced for more gunfire while keeping a close eye out for any movement from the strip of mountainside.
They had to get to Blaine. They just had to!
Colt’s zigzag pattern worked well, especially since he cut through several streets to approach the mountains from a different angle from where they’d left the damaged SUV. She was impressed with his skill and tenacity.
Her head throbbed as they moved through town, but she ignored it, remaining focused on finding Blaine. She was hoping he wouldn’t expect them to come this way—maybe they’d catch him unaware.
Granted, he had the scope of his rifle with which to search for them. Colt paused periodically to use the binocs but gave no indication he’d located their target.
Twenty minutes later, they were huddled in the brush at the base of the mountains. “No sign of him?” she whispered.
“No.” He handed her the binocs. “See if you can spot something I may have missed.”
She doubted he’d missed anything, but she took a moment to peer at the most likely high spots Blaine may have used as a perch to shoot from. There was an outcropping of rock about fifty yards from their current spot. She lowered the binocs. “I say we head over to that rock. It’s the most likely place he’d have used.”
“I noticed that, too,” Colt agreed. “I doubt he’s still up there.”
“We won’t know for sure until we check it out.” She glanced at the nearby trees, most of which weren’t strong enough to hold a man’s weight. “Ready?”
Colt nodded and picked a path through the woods, heading up the slope to the outcropping of rock. They continued using various trees and brush for cover, pausing every so often to search through the binoculars.
Other than their movements, the area around them was unusually silent.
Colt hunkered down about ten yards from the rock outcropping and lifted the binocs to his eyes. For several long moments she didn’t hear anything but the sound of their breathing from the exertion of climbing the hill.
“I don’t see anything,” Colt whispered, handing the glasses to her. “Check it out.”
She did, her heart sinking as she moved the glasses over the area. If Blaine had used the spot as a shooting perch, he wasn’t there now.
“He’s gone,” she whispered, battling a wave of frustration.
“Let’s see if he left anything behind.” Colt pocketed the binocs and headed toward the rock, still moving cautiously in case this was some sort of trap. She watched closely, expecting Blaine to jump out of the brush like some sort of monster.
But when they reached the rock, no one was there.
Morganne couldn’t believe he’d gotten away yet again. When had Blaine turned into a master escape artist?
A few feet from the rock, she found another hiking-boot print. “Colt? This tread looks to be the same as what we found outside my place.”
He joined her, looking down at the partial print as she used her phone to capture the image. “It is,” he agreed. “While it could be a common brand of hiking boot, I’m not buying the coincidence. Same guy was here, no doubt about that. And this was his third attempt to shoot you in less than twenty-four hours.”
She was grimly aware of that fact. On one hand, shooting with a rifle from a distance wasn’t Blaine’s MO. Then again, she figured he knew she’d successfully escaped his clutches before. This was probably his way of getting rid of her once and for all.
From a safe and, in her opinion, cowardly distance.
“Hey, look at this.”
She glanced over to where Colt was kneeling beside the rock. Using a stick, he pried something from a crevasse.
“What is it?”
“Another shell casing.” When he had freed the brass, he carefully used the stick to lift it up. “Our guy has been sloppy, leaving brass at every single place he’s used as a hiding spot.”
She had to admit, it was encouraging. A hiking-boot print was nothing, but that along with the casing made her think they’d found Blaine’s lookout. “It’s also from a thirty aught six, just like the others.”
“Yep.” He rummaged in his pocket and found a plastic baggie. Dropping the brass inside, he grinned with satisfaction. “Once all three casings are compared and proven to be fired from the same weapon, we’ll have more evidence to use against him.”
He was right, but she also knew it wasn’t enough. Not to prove the shooter was Blaine and not some other random criminal out to seek revenge against her. She sighed and tried to ignore the wave of exhaustion that typically followed the adrenaline crash. “Guess we should start hiking out of here.”
Colt nodded and led the way down the side of the mountain. Much easier going down, except for the slippery spots. She lost her footing but managed to stay on her feet.
“We’ll need someone to pick us up.” Colt glanced at her over his shoulder. “A cop? Or a friend?”
Most of her friends were cops, so she nodded. “I’ll call Nate.”
“Nate who?” Colt asked sharply.
She frowned. “Nate Jamison. You met him at my place, remember? He works the graveyard shift, but he lives close by. I’m sure he’ll help us.”
“Oh, yeah. Jamison.” Colt looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t.
Pulling out her phone, she stared at the screen. It was cracked from the wreck, but the phone still worked, at least in theory. Unfortunately, the corner of the screen indicated she had no service.
“Check your phone for service,” she suggested. “I’ve got nothing yet.”
Colt did and grimaced. “Nope.”
Great. They continued making their way down the mountain until they were at street level. Now her phone showed several bars, so she quickly called Jamison’s number.
“What?” he answered with a growl.
“Hey, sorry to wake you, but we need a lift. Gunman shot out the window of the marshal’s SUV and it’s crashed in a ditch. We’re on Oakdale, which isn’t far from you. We’ll hike to your place.”
“Yeah, okay.” Nate didn’t sound very excited.
“Listen, I’m sorry to wake you up so early, but things have been escalating all day. I can fill you in when we get there.”
“I have a few missed calls from the lieutenant,” he admitted. “I’m sure he wants me to come in early.”
“He needs all the help he can get, that’s for sure. Thanks, Nate. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
“I thought you weren’t seeing anyone?” Colt asked as she led the way to Jamison’s house.
“I’m not.” She frowned. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he might be jealous. “We’re just friends. We went through the police academy together.”
“I see.”
Did he really? She shook her head at his foolishness. “Nate is dating a woman named Stacy. I don’t know how serious it is, but he seems happy with her.”
“Oh.” Colt looked embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
“Goofball,” she muttered. Neither one of them spoke over the next ten minutes. Soon she turned up the street leading toward Jamison’s house. When they reached the small ranch, she rapped at the door.
Jamison greeted them dressed in his uniform, his hair damp from the shower. “Give me a minute. I need to put on my shoes and open the garage door.”
Soon Nate drove his Chevy Blazer out of the garage. She and Colt climbed in. “Where to?” Nate asked.
“My place,” Morganne said.
“No, the Mountain View Motel,” Colt countered.
She turned to glare at him. “We need a car, right? Mine is sitting in my garage. Besides, isn’t it time for us to play offense? As you said earlier, he’s tried to shoot me three times in the past twenty-four hours. Enough is enough.”
“Whoa, what’s this? You said you’d fill me in,” Nate interrupted.
Morganne briefly outlined what had happened since they’d last seen Nate. Colt also gave the cop the shell casing they’d found at the rock, requesting it be processed with the others.
“I can do that,” Nate agreed.
“We need to do something to draw Blaine out of hiding,” Morganne said.
“A woman has been murdered.” Colt scowled. “I don’t want you to be next.”
“He has a point, Morganne,” Nate chimed in.
“We need a vehicle and a place to stay. End of discussion.” Morganne sat back in her seat, wishing Colt had even a minuscule amount of faith in her abilities to hold her own.
“Fine. Have it your way. We’ll go to your place to get your vehicle.” Colt’s tone was testy. “We’ll discuss our next move then.”
She belatedly remembered their plan to find Vince and Owen. “Yeah, okay.” She still planned to spend the night at her house, but in the meantime, they still had work to do.
So far, all they had was a dead former girlfriend, three shell casings and several boot prints.
She’d find a way to convince Colt to spend the night at her place to draw Blaine out.
In her humble opinion, they needed to do something drastic to put an end to this once and for all.
Before he killed again.
* * *
He was feeling overprotective of Morganne, but being shot at multiple times tended to do that to a guy. Cop or not, Colt didn’t like knowing she was at the center of Blaine’s target.
Was this how his buddies Slade and Tanner had felt while protecting the women they cared about from danger? If so, he hadn’t been sympathetic enough to their plight.
And man, he really wished his buddies were here with him now. They’d both taken less risky roles within the marshal service, but he knew they’d come if asked.
The drive to Morganne’s place didn’t take long. He used the time to contact James Crane and let his boss know about the gunfire and that he needed a replacement vehicle, sooner than later.
His boss agreed to send Tanner and Slade to help him but warned they wouldn’t be there until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.
It was better than nothing.
“Are you really staying here tonight?” Jamison asked as he pulled up to Morganne’s house. The crime scene tape was still stretched across her doorway, but there were no officers present anywhere nearby.
“Yes.” Morganne pushed her door open. “Thanks for the ride.”
“We appreciate it,” Colt added, following suit.
“I’ll swing by as often as possible while I’m on patrol,” Jamison said. “And you can always call me directly if you need something.”
“Thanks.” Morganne smiled before closing the door.
The familiarity between Jamison and Morganne shouldn’t have bothered him. He’d already made a fool of himself by acting jealous, which was ridiculous. He wasn’t interested in a relationship with Morganne—he’d given his heart to Abby.
