Callahan And McLane: Targeted Part 23

"Exactly. Like you said, they're adults."

"Adults who were entrusted to your care, Doctor."

"I'm sorry we let you down, Detective. I hope you'll relay my regrets to Ava. Hopefully Jayne and Brady will appear soon." She ended the call.

Mason stared out the window and down at the streetlights. Now what?

What will this do to Ava?

25.

Ava studied Mason's face.

Jayne is missing?

She looked deep inside herself, searching, waiting for the alarm. And realized she didn't care.

She's my sister.

Worry and concern shone from Mason's eyes, and she wondered what he saw on her face.

He'd pulled her aside after her useless interview with Micah Zuch, led her into a quiet room, and blurted the news from Jayne's doctor.

Missing. Another man. Police notified.

The words spun in her head. Jayne wasn't dead. Her death might be the only thing that would wrench emotion out of Ava over her twin. She'd formed thick scabs and scars to protect her heart from Jayne's next event. And here it was. Her defenses had protected her and she felt . . . nothing. "Do you remember if we set the alarm when we left the house this morning?" she whispered.

Amus.e.m.e.nt crossed his face. "First thing I thought about, too. Yes, I set it."

"She's okay," Ava stated, still shocked by the calm in her chest.

"That's right," he rea.s.sured her. "No one's reported anything. She ran off with someone with a lot of money, so I imagine she has a solid roof over her head tonight. Possibly a nicer one than ours."

"About time she met someone with real money."

Mason blinked and then coughed out a laugh. "I wasn't going to say it."

"Am I a horrible person that I don't care?" Ava asked. Her lack of emotional reaction disturbed her. Am I broken? Did I kill the part of me that gives a s.h.i.t?

"Lord, no. She's stomped all over you. She's not in any immediate danger that we know of, so I think your reaction is normal."

He didn't appear to be patronizing her; he looked as if he believed what he'd said.

She took a deep breath, nodding, trying to convince herself that she hadn't evolved into a sociopath with no conscience. Now what? She switched her brain to investigator mode. "Should we reach out to Brady Shurr's family?"

"That's up to you. Do you think they'll want to hear from you?"

"Good question. On one hand, we're in law enforcement and that might be of comfort to them. On the other hand, I don't think they'll be happy to hear that Brady was the next in a long line of men that Jayne used for her own amus.e.m.e.nt."

"I'm afraid they'll expect us to find them."

Ava shook her head. "I have no idea where they'd go. We don't have time to waste on a couple of grown adults who made their own stupid decision. We need to focus on the case at hand."

Aren't I the least bit concerned about Jayne?

No.

"She knows how to take care of herself," Ava said, for her own benefit as well as Mason's. "She gets into trouble, but she's managed to survive this long."

"Barely."

He watched her carefully, and she fought back an urge to a.s.sure him she wasn't about to crack. Far from it. She was p.i.s.sed and it felt good.

"I hope she doesn't make more bad decisions," Ava muttered.

Mason raised a brow at her. "Aren't bad decisions a given with her?"

"You're right. They are. When her hole gets too deep, she'll turn up, needing something from me."

Please stay away from drugs, Jayne. I can't help you there.

Her phone rang. Ava didn't recognize the number.

"I'm going to check in with Nora," said Mason as she looked at her phone. "I'll be back in a minute." He strode out of the room.

"Special Agent McLane."

"This is Mercy Kilpatrick, Zander suggested I call you."

Relief swept over Ava. "Of course, Mercy. What did you the two of you find out about Vance Weldon?" She held back the information about Regina Zuch, wanting to hear Special Agent Kilpatrick's information first.

"I took a close look at who Weldon had crossed paths with in his domestic terrorism cases and to see if any of the other officers who'd been murdered had been involved in the investigations in some way. I haven't been able to find anything. Most of Weldon's work involved suspects in Central and Eastern Oregon, and our outside support came from officers in those regions."

"Did you find anything that might be useful in our case?" Ava asked, getting to the heart of their conversation.

"Not really." Mercy sighed. "Vance hadn't reported any issues with suspects or been worried about his safety in any way."

Ava told her about Regina Zuch's affair with Weldon.

"Well now. Isn't that interesting?" Ava heard her tap on computer keys in the background. "Let me see what we have on her."

"Micah Zuch still hasn't told us how he knows all this accurate information. We're guessing that he's protecting someone. We considered his mother, but I can't see it," Ava said, hoping she wasn't wrong. She let her brain travel down that path again. Could Regina be involved and her son is trying to keep her out of jail?

The long hair found on two of the bodies.

The hair was dark, but Regina clearly colored her hair a bright blonde.

"I don't have anything on Regina Zuch," Mercy said in a disappointed voice. "Her name doesn't come up in any of Vance's cases or otherwise."

"Ask what Zander thinks of her affair with Weldon," suggested Ava.

"He's not here."

"Oh. I thought he told you to call."

"He did when he asked me to dig into Vance Weldon's cases. He wanted you to immediately have any information I found. I'm sorry I haven't-"

"Wait." Ava froze. "He isn't with you? I thought the two of you were working together this evening."

"No, I haven't seen Zander since this afternoon. I've left messages for him to call me, but I a.s.sumed he was tied up with the task force."

Ava's brain spun in confusion. "I'll go to his house. It's five minutes away. Maybe he's working on something from there, and I misunderstood where he'd said he'd be."

"This doesn't sound like him."

"I agree. But he looked exhausted this morning. He said he didn't sleep last night," Ava said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's simply crashed."

"I'll meet you there," said Mercy. "The two of you are working a case where cops are being murdered. I'm sure Zander is fine, but you shouldn't go alone. I'll leave in two minutes."

Ava ended the call with the concerned agent and glanced at the time. She could get over to Zander's home and back in less than fifteen minutes at this time of night. No one would even notice she'd left.

Ava parked at the curb and looked at the dark house. Zander's car was in the driveway, and she let out a relieved sigh. I was right. He's just exhausted. She fumed a bit because he hadn't checked in with her or Mercy, but she knew that Mason could sleep eighteen hours straight when he'd worn himself out on a case. A fire alarm wouldn't disturb him, let alone the ringing of his phone.

She'd told Mason and Nora that she was dropping by Zander's home. Mason had offered to come with her, but she'd refused. "I'll be back soon and Mercy Kilpatrick will be there, too."

She waited a few minutes for Mercy, but impatience got the best of her and she decided to knock on the door. She walked carefully up the dark path to his front door. No Halloween decorations. Unlike at all the other homes on his street, whose residents seemed to view decor as a compet.i.tion. The neighborhood was flat and easy to walk, and the homes were close together. It probably swarmed with kids during Halloween. It was an ideal trick-or-treating neighborhood because a lot of houses could be covered in a short time. Prime real estate for a large candy haul, every kid's priority on Halloween. When she was a kid, it was exactly what she'd have wanted when she chose a neighborhood for trick-or-treating. She'd always lived in an apartment with her mother and sister, so they'd gone to subdivisions to trick-or-treat. Ava had memorized which ones were the best. No hills, no long stairs to the front doors, and tons of kids.

Zander's neighborhood rated a high score in her book. She wondered if he was the only single guy on the street.

Does he turn off his porch light on Halloween? Warning kids not to knock?

She hoped not. Those houses contained lonely, cranky people.

Noticing it was eleven P.M., she cringed as she pushed the doorbell.

Listening closely for any sounds of movement inside, she waited.

She pushed it again, blowing out a breath and watching it float away in the cool night air.

And waited.

She turned around and looked down the street, hoping to see the headlights from Mercy's car. It was silent.

What if Zander is a victim?

Her adrenaline spiking, she touched the weapon at her side and stepped to the side of the door.

A footstep sounded inside. "Zander?" she called.

A curse sounded through the door. Recognizing his voice, she blew out a breath and was relieved she hadn't drawn her gun.

"Zander? You didn't return my texts. I just wanted to check on you."

Clicking sounded as he flipped the locks, and she exhaled. Finally.

He opened the door, and she gasped as alcohol fumes filled the air. She waved a hand in front of her face. "Jesus Christ! What are you doing?"

He wore baggy pajama bottoms and a sleeveless shirt. She couldn't see his face.

"Turn on the light," she said sharply.

"Ava . . ."

"Turn it on." She reached in the house, around the doorjamb, and felt for a switch. "Oh, my G.o.d."

He turned away at the rush of light but not before she'd caught a glimpse of red puffy eyes and nose.

"Are you sick?" she asked, knowing that wasn't the case. No one bathes in vodka when they're sick.

She stepped into the house, forcing him to retreat, and turned on more lights. "What's going on? Why haven't you returned my calls? Mercy said you haven't returned hers, either. I thought you were working with her today?"

He wouldn't look her in the eye. He turned and stalked away. She followed as he headed into his kitchen. She'd been to his home at other times to pick him up, but she'd never been farther than the doorway. It was as neat as she'd expected but very plain. The kitchen was the pale oak that'd been so popular decades before, but seemed organized and clean. Except for the empty fifth of vodka on the counter and the empty knocked-over carton of orange juice.

Ava stared. Vodka and OJ was one of Jayne's favorites. The familiar sight sent anxiety shooting through her brain.

"Why are you drinking?" she asked.

He didn't answer as he twisted the lid on a new bottle of vodka. A loud crack sounded as the seal broke, and his hand shook as he poured the liquid in a gla.s.s.

"Can I get you some ice?" Ava offered.

He ignored her snark and opened his freezer, digging in the ice with a bare hand and dropping a handful into his gla.s.s. Vodka sloshed over the side. He picked it up and held her gaze over the rim as he drank.

"Out of orange juice?"

"Don't need it," he muttered.

"Why didn't you call me back?"

"Why are you in my house?"