Weston pulled his own fish out of the lake. “Until he couldn’t.”
Calvin nodded. “Mike got drunk. While he was in the bar, his patrol car was stolen along with all of the evidence. It was never recovered.”
Avery closed her eyes. “Beverly’s case was compromised.”
“That’s right. Worse yet, Mike wanted Kenneth to cover for him by saying the patrol car was stolen while he was doing a safety check of the bar. Kenneth refused. He went straight to the sheriff and turned Mike in. The entire situation was an embarrassment to the department.”
Weston groaned. “They covered it up.”
“Essentially.” Calvin tugged on the knit cap covering his hair. “The department made up a story about the stolen patrol car to save face. Mike went to rehab, but his career was irreparably damaged, and he blamed Kenneth. Mike’s never been able to climb the ranks higher than detective because the stint in rehab went in his permanent file.”
“Hold on,” Avery said. “You’re suggesting Mike killed two women and threatened me to get revenge for an incident that happened…what? More than twenty years ago? That doesn’t make sense. I’m far more interested in Beverly’s attacker.”
“Except Beverly’s attacker—guy by the name of John Starin—is dead. Kenneth kept working the case until he got a break. When the police went to John’s house, the man opened fire. He was killed in a shoot-out.”
Avery frowned. “Still, I have a hard time believing Mike is behind this. Drinking on the job is a far cry from murdering women.”
Calvin threw his line back into the water. “I agree. It’s extreme. But Avery, think about it in another way. You were a kid when Mike became a detective. Now, you outrank him and your career outshines his. Jealousy and revenge are powerful motivators, particularly when they’ve had decades to ferment.”
A cold shudder ran down her spine. She didn’t want to believe it, but…hadn’t she also sensed Mike’s jealousy? It’d slithered through their relationship since her move back to Union County.
Her heart skipped a beat. “Mike applied for the Chief of Police position at Harrison University. He mentioned it to me in passing once.”
Weston’s gaze shot to her. “When?”
“Right after I took the job. He came to the office to congratulate me and made a joke about how the job should’ve been his. It was awkward because I didn’t know what to say. Mike never brought it up again, and I forgot about it.”
“Avery, any job he applied to, the drinking incident would be reported to his potential new employer.” Calvin arched his brows. “Losing the position to you may have been the final straw.”
“He’s triggered by it,” Avery said. “Mike comes up with a plan of revenge, killing women in the same method as the case that started it all. Taunting me to catch him. Pitting us against each other…just like we were for the job.”
Weston’s headlights cut through the darkness as he took the exit for Union County. Beside him, Avery was quiet. The GPS was set for Mike Steel’s house. Weston wasn’t sure what to think of Calvin’s assertions, but the sooner they confirmed or negated them, the better.
Weston’s phone rang, his dash lighting up with Luke’s name. Finally. His fellow ranger was tracking down the information Calvin had given them to verify it. Avery answered the call and let Luke know he was on speaker with both of them.
“Calvin was telling the truth about the fallout between Mike and Kenneth,” Luke said, ignoring pleasantries. “According to the retired detective I spoke to, no one knew precisely why the two men stopped being partners. However, everyone in the department suspected it was connected to Mike’s drinking. When he came back from rehab, many of the detectives refused to partner with him.”
Weston flipped on his blinker and turned into Mike’s neighborhood. “Well, that could create some resentment.”
“What about the Beverly Wilson case?” Avery asked.
“The retired detective I spoke to remembered it. John Starin was the attacker. Beverly’s necklace and her bloody nightgown were found inside John’s house, along with a length of rope consistent with the one used on the victim. Kenneth was the one who closed the case.”
“How did my dad figure out John Starin was Beverly’s attacker if Mike’s patrol car was stolen with all of the evidence?”
“Don’t know,” Luke replied. “I’ve requested the file from the sheriff’s department, but it’s apparently been misplaced. That’s why it took me so long to call you.”
“Misplaced, huh?” Weston asked. “Accidentally? Or intentionally?”
“Too early to say yet. The file room is a labyrinth and we’re looking for a twenty-year-old case. I’ll call you as soon as it’s located.”
Weston’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. As a detective with the sheriff’s department, Mike Steel had access to the file room. Had he hidden or destroyed the records? It was something to consider. “Thanks, Luke. Appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
Weston hung up. He stopped outside of Mike Steel’s house and shoved the vehicle into Park. Avery was staring at the two-story structure, her mouth flattened into a grim line. “Let’s do this.”
They rang the bell, and moments later, Mike answered. He was dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, his hair disheveled. Behind him, a television was playing the news. “Avery. Weston. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“No, Mike, it isn’t,” Avery said. “We need to talk.”
Mike opened the door wider and let them pass. The living room was small and held a couch flanked by a couple of armchairs. A microwave dinner was balanced precariously on the corner of a portable table. Mike lowered the volume on the television. “Take a seat if you want. What’s going on?”
“We have reason to believe Debra and Marianne’s murders are connected to a case from a long time
