The thought brought Harper up short and she turned her attention from John to Rachel. How far would Rachel go to protect her family? “The police know your van was at Standish’s office,” she said, watching Rachel for a reaction. She wanted to see shock or surprise, anything to suggest that she had no idea what Harper was talking about.
Instead, Rachel’s face was an emotionless mask, her only giveaway the knowing glance she shot at John.
Before Harper could ask anything more, the doorbell rang. Rachel started, then rushed to the front of the house to answer it, the clack of her heels echoing against the hardwood floors.
Harper whirled on John. “What have you done?”
“Naomi,” her father admonished. “Hush.”
The sound of Rachel’s heels came once more. This time moving more slowly. Harper backed away from both men, running through her options. She didn’t want them to dig themselves in deeper, but she also couldn’t ignore that they were involved in a homicide. She needed to know exactly what they’d done so she could minimize any further damage—to the case as well as to her family.
A few seconds later Rachel returned. With Foster Dean. Who held a gun to her head.
Forty-One
Ray and Leah were waiting for Luka on the cabin’s front porch. He’d stopped to get directions from the ranger, who he’d left at the entrance to ensure that only the state police and their evidence recovery team were allowed access.
“Leah, why didn’t you wait at the ranger’s station?” Luka asked as he fumbled his way across the uneven dirt road to the porch steps.
“I wanted to talk to you,” she answered.
“And I wanted her to show me anything she touched,” Ray added.
“I ran out so fast when I found her. I had to come back, make sure she was dead.” She focused on Luka. “I think Beth and her baby might be with Reverend Harper—he’s the only link between Tassi and Beth. So I’m headed over there—”
“No,” Luka told her. “I’ll call Krichek.”
“He’s at the Standish place,” Ray reminded him.
Luka was already dialing, thankful that he had any service this far up the mountain. “I’ll have Harper relieve him there.” That would keep Harper far away from anything connected with Matthew—and any potential conflict of interest.
“Boss,” Krichek answered. “I was just gonna call you.” His voice was tight with excitement. “I found Hansen.”
“Great, where is he?”
“Here. Never left. We were sweeping the property and found him. Dead. In the pool house. It’s bad. He’s been sliced and diced and beaten and looks like a blow torch was used on him.”
“Tortured.” Luka swore under his breath. “Stay there. Did the judge come through on the warrants for Dean’s rental car’s GPS?”
“Haven’t heard back yet.”
“Call him, let him know Dean is now our number one suspect in two homicides. Add his phone and financials to the warrant.” Luka hung up. Dean was trained too well, would dump both his phone and vehicle. But the GPS data was still valuable evidence and might give them an idea of where he was going. Did he have Beth and the baby with him? Or was Leah right and Matthew Harper was hiding them? Either way, they were running out of time.
“I’ll go to the church if Krichek can’t,” Ray volunteered.
“No. I’ve got it. Ahearn will have a fit if we don’t handle the reverend with kid gloves.”
“I’m coming,” Leah said, hoisting her knapsack higher on her shoulder. “If the baby’s there, I have antibiotics, I can start treatment right away.”
Ray frowned. “We don’t know how involved the reverend is. Plus, if Dean tied Tassi to Beth, he might be headed there as well. You’ll need back-up.”
“I know. I’ll call ERT.” The Emergency Response Team was Cambria City’s equivalent of SWAT. Luka turned on his crutches and headed back to the car, Leah walking alongside him, her stride and posture closing off any arguments about her joining him.
“You can’t send ERT in, not with a baby there,” she said as they reached the Impala. “Those guys are trigger-happy.” During her six months working with the police with the Crisis Intervention Team, Leah had had a few run-ins with the ERT’s commander, who hadn’t embraced the department’s new progressive stance on de-escalation tactics.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they know about Beth and the baby.” His left foot hit a rock, sending pain shooting up his leg.
“Want me to drive?” she offered.
He was tempted to take her up on it but driving helped him focus. “Against the rules.”
Luka couldn’t see in the dark, but he was certain she rolled her eyes at his response. She got into the passenger seat, waited for him to stow his crutches and lower himself behind the wheel.
“There’s a faster way out, here, look.” She held out a map, tracing a route that eventually came out on the two-lane road that led to Holy Redeemer. “Cuts our travel almost in half. The ranger said the gate is locked at nine p.m., so it should still be open.”
“She’s manning the front gate; I’m sure she hasn’t gotten over there.” He reversed the car and followed Leah’s directions. Sure enough the gate was still open, allowing them to access the secondary road that cut across to their destination. He had her call Ray and tell him to remind the state police to close the gate and secure it.
Finally, they left the gravel track for a narrow two-lane paved road, Luka’s leg sending a prayer of thanksgiving for the end of the jostling, bouncy ride. Luka’s phone rang and he put it on the car’s speaker. “Jericho.”
“It’s Sanchez. I ran the data on the GPS tracker found on Spencer Standish’s SUV. He’s been visiting a cabin out in Craven’s Peak almost daily for two weeks. Other than that, it’s all work and home. Oh, and a trip Saturday night, the night before he died.”
Which tied Spencer with Beth. He was their missing link between the two women. “Where?”
“A church. Holy Redeemer. Then straight home and
