Her Duty Bound Defender, page 4
He hesitated. Was he reluctant to answer her or not willing to share anything about himself? Finally, he said, “Yes. But my faith has changed over the years, too.”
“As it should. I believe God uses everything—good, bad, and indifferent—to mold our character. I trust Him to redeem even the bad stuff. I can’t spend valuable time and effort nursing grudges and holding on to past anger.”
“I suppose that’s true. Except five of the individuals who were connected to the prank are dead. That goes beyond coincidence.”
Unable to rebut that, she remained silent.
“How did you find out about Peter and Henry’s murders?”
“I don’t live in a cave,” she said, tilting her head. “News travels fast with the internet, and my brother, Evan, still lives and owns a business in Elk Valley. He told me.” She swallowed hard. “I was sad to hear about Henry. Nobody deserves to die the way they did. But Peter’s demise hurt me the most. He was always kind to me.”
“He wasn’t on the night of the prank. A friend would’ve warned or protected.”
Naomi looked down. “He didn’t participate in the prank.”
“That’s a compassionate attitude.”
“Peter and his friends went everywhere together. Acted like they’re invincible, and all had reputations for dating multiple girls. Have you considered the possibility that they played pranks on other students, too?” Naomi’s question seemed to hit home.
“It’s possible,” Bennett replied.
“Be assured, I’ve had more than enough excitement and difficulty over the past year that I don’t need to invite trouble.”
“Are you speaking of your husband’s death?”
Naomi hesitated, momentarily taken aback by his obvious research into her life. “Yes. Losing Ted—” her voice cracked, but she quickly recovered “—and trying to keep up with the bills and our tour company while growing another human being is a lot.”
He nodded. “Financial pressure is a reason for many crimes.”
“I’m surviving.”
“Here’s my take on what happened. Those young men had to pay for what they did to you. The first three murders happened on Valentine’s Day a year ago. You sent them the message, asking to meet at the barn, then took them out one by one.”
“I did not!” Naomi bolted upright in the bed. “I don’t own a gun. Check my alibi! I wasn’t anywhere near the barn the night of Seth’s, Brad’s and Aaron’s deaths.”
“Hmm.” He appeared nonplussed. Was he listening?
“Evan will vouch for me. I was home on Valentine’s Day. He was there comforting me while I bawled my eyes out. I felt stupid for falling for the prank. I had a huge crush on Trevor Gage, and I was giddy when he asked me out. I’d watched all the teen romance movies and naively assumed the dance would be the beginning of something wonderful between us. Evan stayed with me until he left to pick up his girlfriend, Paulina.”
“Paulina Potter?” Bennett clarified.
“Yes, and they went on their big night out.”
“That leaves a gap where you could’ve committed the murders.”
Naomi fisted her hands. “I worked the late shift at the hospice in Elk Valley.”
He withdrew a notepad from his shirt pocket. “What time was that?”
“Nine p.m. to two a.m. I was in a building full of nurses and patients that night. Check the records.”
“That’s helpful. Thank you.”
His willingness to consider her alibi prompted Naomi to continue. “I was in ninety-nine-year-old Annie Perkin’s room from eleven p.m. to one fifteen a.m.” Naomi hadn’t reminisced about Annie in ages. “Such a sweet lady.” The details returned, motivating her to speak faster. “Her nurse came in at midnight to check her vitals. Annie pleaded for me to stay with her. She was dying and didn’t want to be alone.”
“What was her nurse’s name?” Bennett’s pen hovered over his notepad.
Naomi traversed her recollections. “Yvette Jacobsen. Annie had dozed off and Yvette stayed with me for a while. We talked about her son and his recent move to San Diego for college. Feel free to call her, too.”
“Okay. We’ll dig into that.”
“See, that clears me and proves I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Well, it’s an alibi for the first three murders, but not for those of Henry Mulder and Peter Windham.” He tapped his pen against the notebook paper.
Several seconds ticked by before Naomi gaped at him. “Wait. Are you still implying that I killed Peter and Henry?” She gestured at her belly. “In my current condition? You must be kidding. Look at me!” She swept her arms wide. “I’m nine months pregnant. I’m a human duck waddling around. How would I murder two grown men?”
Bennett’s tone remained calm. “You had cause, arguably justifiable cause for revenge, and realistically, physical strength isn’t required to fire a gun.”
“Again, I don’t own a gun, nor do I know how to use one.” She fought to maintain a controlled persona. She’d not give the detective the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart at his questioning.
Bennett exhaled.
Naomi’s heart thudded against her chest in frustration, and another contraction hit. She repeated the breathing exercises until it passed.
“I’m not here to upset you, Naomi. But without facts, like the alibi at the hospice, I have nowhere to look.” He leaned forward again.
“Detective, I assume you’ve followed me for a while. Otherwise, I’m not sure how you found me at Peter’s.”
He held his place, one hand on the bed. “Yes.”
“Then you’re aware I work from sunrise to sunset. Once I finish my tours, I’m exhausted and every part of my body hurts. Hauling and growing another human requires substantial effort.” Naomi wrapped her hands over her belly.
“I can’t argue those facts.”
“Not that I’d expect you to understand. I don’t have the time, energy or inclination to hunt down people from my past.” Naomi sat up. “Check my tour bus records. I use a computer application.” She spelled the name of the program, providing the login and password for him.
Bennett wrote the details in his notebook.
“You’ll see I’ve had a full schedule for months. I don’t get time off, and even if I did, I can’t afford to take it.” She sucked in a breath and paused.
He met her gaze, concern etching his forehead.
“My husband cleaned out my bank accounts, and I have yet to find the money. I must work for a living, which impedes on my opportunities to commit murder. Therefore, I am not the serial killer you’re seeking.”
“I appreciate your candidness.” Bennett pocketed the notepad and sat back. Was he finished interrogating her? “Should I call someone to let them know you’re here?”
“You mean as in my one phone call when you book me?” She’d meant the statement sarcastically, but it fell flat.
If she hadn’t imagined it, he almost seemed to cringe.
“I’ll save it for calling my brother if and or when that becomes necessary.”
He nodded. “Tell me about your brother, Evan? Does he visit often?”
Apparently not. “He comes to visit me twice a year.” Naomi shrugged. “Evan’s the best. Every little sister probably says that. We’ve never been especially close. Since the death of our folks, even seeing him is hard on me. Without those connections to my past, I can forget parts of the pain and loss. But each of those reminders makes it all fresh.”
“Did you receive the invitation to the Elk Valley High reunion?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I imagine receiving that brought back those old memories. Created the catalyst for finishing off the men who hurt you. You were all graduates of Elk Valley High.”
Naomi’s patience waned. “As I explained, Detective, I have bigger things on my mind than taking revenge for a stupid prank at a dance.” She turned away. “It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. I’d like to rest.”
“Sure.” He stood. “I’ll play it straight with you, Mrs. Carr-Cavanaugh. You had motive, opportunity and means. The MOM method, as we’d say.”
The acronym seemed especially cruel now. “Detective, that’s true of a lot of people. If you had evidence, you wouldn’t waste time following me. Now, with all due respect, sir, either arrest me or let me sleep.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. She rolled over, facing the baby monitor machine, and closed her eyes.
* * *
Bennett shut Naomi’s door softly behind him and walked toward the waiting room at the far end of the hall. Relieved to enter the empty space, he sat positioned with a good visual of Naomi’s door.
“Might as well make some more calls,” he mumbled, glancing down, half expecting to see Spike. Talking to himself appeared less strange when his K-9 partner accompanied him. Bennett chuckled, withdrew his phone and dialed the MCK9 teammate tech specialist, Isla Jimenez.
She answered on the second ring. “Hey, Bennett.”
“How’s it going?”
“Depends on what we’re discussing.”
Bennett assumed Isla referenced the foster parent approval process she was enduring. At their last discussion, she’d told him there was an infant they were placing with her. “Any word on when you’ll get the baby?”
“Not yet. I’m grateful for the busyness of this case to keep me occupied. Otherwise, I’d spend every waking moment biting my nails and walking on pins and super-excited-can’t-wait-for-the-phone-to-ring needles.”
“I’m sure it’ll happen soon.” Bennett grinned at the enthusiasm in her voice. “You must be their poster child candidate for what a great foster parent should be.”
“I pray you’re right.” Isla laughed. “What’s up?”
“So much I’m not sure where to start. I have interesting information to share about Naomi Carr-Cavanaugh.” He paused, considering how differently her name sounded on his lips than it had in the beginning. The one-dimensional cardboard Naomi had become three dimensional. When had that happened?
Knock it off, Ford. He shook off the thoughts. No. She remained a suspect until they confirmed or destroyed her alibis for the murders. Thus, the need to involve Isla.
“Ready when you are.” Her voice prompted him, reminding Bennett he’d stalled too long.
“Here’s the rundown.” He withdrew the notebook where he’d written the details Naomi provided.
“Bring it on.”
Bennett conveyed Naomi’s story about sitting with the hospice patient on the night of the first murders. “I could be wrong, but it seems plausible. She was confident Yvette Jacobsen would corroborate her alibi.”
“Should be easy to verify that information,” she replied, and tapping filled the line. “I’ll check the hospice facility records and get back to you.”
“There’s more,” Bennett replied. “She claimed to run a full tour bus schedule since before Ted’s death. If that’s true, she also has an alibi for the last two homicides.”
“Hmm, any chance she told you which online scheduling program she uses?”
“Yes.” Bennett read off the details.
“That’s an older app. Stand by.” More tapping. “I’ll dig into the calendar and contact her customers to verify they were on her tours at the times of the homicides,” Isla confirmed. “I’ll be in touch.”
After they’d disconnected, Bennett called FBI Wyoming Bureau supervisory special agent Chase Rawlston, the appointed leader to the task force. “Hey, Bennett.”
“It’s been an adventurous night.” Bennett launched into a detailed but concise synopsis of the evening, including the shooting, Spike’s drug find and the events leading up to the hospital visit.
“You went from zero to sixty in a single night,” Chase replied. “How is Naomi doing?”
“They have her in a private room, monitoring the contractions. Apparently, she’s not effaced or dilated, which means she won’t deliver soon. The doctor wants to keep her for a while to make sure.”
Chase chuckled. “You’re getting an education in obstetrics.”
“Affirmative.” Bennett dropped into a chair. “I planned to cite and arrest her for possession, but then she started having contractions, and now we’re at the hospital.”
“Understandable,” Chase said.
“There’s more. She has reasonable alibis for all the murders. Isla’s checking out the details, but I’ve got doubts about her involvement as the RMK.”
“Put a pin in that until Isla contacts you,” Chase replied. “Regardless, her alibis don’t explain the drugs.”
“Agreed, and I’m not inclined to just let that go, but I’m struggling to reconcile the chain of events.”
“You’re doubtful the drugs belong to Naomi?” Chase asked.
“I don’t know.” Bennett leaned back in the seat and ran a hand over his hair. Chase knew his history with Delaney, so he was grateful he didn’t need to explain that or his hesitancy to trust his instincts. “I can’t tell you how many times someone’s claimed they’re holding drugs for a friend or relative. Or they plead ignorance. Something is different about her.”
“Talk it out with me.”
“If she’s the RMK, why drive to the crime scene with narcotics? That’s a risky move all by itself.”
“Or Naomi drove there to heighten the thrill of getting away with murder. She celebrated by meeting her accomplices to deliver the fentanyl.”
“True.” Bennett paused. “Why not meet them in a clandestine place? For the record, I’m not convinced those men were working for or with her. They both wore ski masks. Why hide their identities?”
“Yeah,” Chase grunted. “That’s strange.”
“Exactly. And get this, she blushed and whispered the word drug as though she was worried someone might overhear her.”
“That’s easily explained. She is in the hospital, pregnant and close to delivery,” Chase responded. “She’s right to worry a nurse would eavesdrop on the conversation, putting her in danger of losing custody of her baby.”
“I hate when you’re logical,” Bennett said. Once more, he’d lost focus. Another perfect example of why he needed his team to keep him unbiased.
“Nah, you’re in the thick of the investigation. Helps to talk it out and gain some perspective,” Chase replied. “Sometimes the logic is right in front of us. Other times, it’s masked by circumstances.”
Or Bennett’s inability to read through the lies spoken by a beautiful woman. “I’d feel better if more of the details added up, especially regarding the drugs.”
“Unless the shooters trailed you trailing Naomi. Doubtful since they didn’t try to take you out before attacking her. How’d they know she’d be there?”
“Can’t argue that.” Even though he wanted to. “There’s something more going on here. If she is the RMK, the drugs are important but not the goal.” Bennett ran a hand over his head. “Would you allow me to release her for medical reasons with the citation for possession while we run the bags for DNA and fingerprints?”
“Approved. I don’t see Naomi as a flight risk.”
Bennett exhaled relief, though he wasn’t sure why. Didn’t he want to arrest Naomi? No, he wanted to take down the RMK. Stopping any distribution of fentanyl was important, but not the goal. Either way, he wouldn’t fall for another innocent woman act. She remained a suspect he was keeping a close eye on. That was all. “Thanks.”
“Get the evidence transferred to Isla ASAP, and we’ll find out what’s going on,” Chase said.
“With your permission, to expedite results, I respectfully request utilizing local resources to process the evidence. I’ve got a great contact at a Colorado lab here that the Denver PD uses.”
“As long as your highest priority is maintaining a tight chain of custody,” Chase replied. “And include Isla in all communication.”
“Roger that. Douglas County is the responding agency for the Windham Ranch incident. I’ll follow up with them as soon as we disconnect. I want Spike to go through Naomi’s vehicle again to confirm we didn’t miss anything the first time.” Bennett couldn’t shake his skepticism that Naomi faked the contractions to prevent him from finding more drugs.
“Good plan. Keep me updated.”
Talking with Chase triggered something in the back of his mind about Naomi’s involvement. Once Denver PD tested the bags for DNA or fingerprints, he’d feel better. If she’d hidden the fentanyl, he doubted she’d bothered to do so wearing gloves. Additionally, if they found her fingerprints on the bags, he’d have more evidence to prove she was dealing drugs.
“Is that everything you needed to tell me?”
“I think so,” Bennett replied.
“My turn,” Chase said. “Should’ve looped you in sooner, but things are hectic on this end, too.”
Bennett’s full attention shifted to his boss.
“Cowgirl is missing.”
“Say again?” Bennett gaped at the phone, unsure he’d understood Chase. The cute Labradoodle had been gifted to the task force to train as an emotional support dog for their investigation.
“Liana was outside with Cowgirl in the training center. She thought she heard gunfire and turned to look for a shooter. Liana called for backup, and when she finished talking to the dispatcher, Cowgirl was gone. She saw a man in black running away, but he vanished into the woods.”
“Unbelievable. Why take her?” Bennett muttered. “Didn’t Liana hear her barking?”
“We’re not sure exactly what happened. Liana’s taking full responsibility. There’s no way she could’ve predicted this would happen. Cowgirl never barked, at least not to Liana’s recollection. But that’s not a surprise. She loves everyone.”
“Oh, wow.” Bennett thought about his teammate, Ashley Hanson, a cop in Elk Valley and the youngest member of the MCK9 task force. An emotional support dog had been Ashley’s great idea, and her dad, an FBI bigwig in DC, had gifted her to the team. “How’s Ashley holding up?”
