I Shall Not Want

  “Yeah, it can be devastating,” Paul agreed. “We’ll need a list of those adopters as well.”

  “I can get that for you now, if you wouldn’t mind waiting a couple of minutes. I had surgery over the summer, and my husband set it up so I can access my work computer from my home computer.”

  “That would be excellent, thank you.”

  She hesitated. “I hate to ask, but, would you mind waiting here?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Mark said, stepping away a few feet and pulling out his cell phone. He took a deep breath and then dialed his sister-in-law’s house. Her husband answered.

  “Hi, it’s Mark,” he said.

  “Hey! We were just about to send out a search party. You two on your way over?”

  “No, something’s happened, actually,” Mark said, trying hard to keep his voice calm.

  “What is it?” the other man asked, sobering instantly.

  “Traci was kidnapped a couple of hours ago.”

  There was silence on the other end for several seconds, and then he heard a door closing. There was a slight echo as his brother-in-law whispered, “What did you just say?”

  “She was kidnapped. The entire force is doing everything they can to find her. I just realized I hadn’t called—”

  “You find her and don’t worry about the niceties. I’ll tell everyone that you’re contagious and staying at home so no one gets the fool notion of bringing dinner to you.”

  “I would appreciate it.”

  “If you haven’t found her by the morning, then I’ll come clean, but it’s not going to do anyone any good right now.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You call if you need anything. Anything, you hear?”

  “I do.”

  Mark hung up and returned to the doorstep just as the woman returned with the printout. Mark scanned it quickly, and several names jumped out at him, including his own.

  “Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, give us a call,” Paul said, handing her his card.

  She nodded and went back inside. After a moment they headed toward the car.

  “Do you think someone is doing all this to sabotage Animals to the Rescue?” Paul asked.

  Mark shook his head. “I think someone is looking for a particular dog, they just don’t know which one it is.”

  “Officers!”

  They turned as she ran down the walk toward their car. “I just remembered something else.”

  “Yes?”

  “The tall one had a scar on the back of his neck.”

  A chill went up Mark’s spine. It was the same man who had kidnapped his wife.

  “Are you sure?” Paul pressed.

  “Yes, I remember seeing it when he walked away. And I’m pretty sure he had some sort of New Testament name.”

  “New Testament name?”

  She flushed. “My father was a preacher, and he used to say he would never name a child of his a New Testament name because every other Christian did that. You know, like after one of the disciples or writers.”

  “Matthew, Luke, etc.?” Mark asked.

  “Yes. My dad said that so many times that whenever I hear someone with a name like that I hear him inside my head and it makes me smile.”

  “You must smile a lot, then,” Mark said.

  They got in the car and sat for a moment while she walked back inside. She didn’t come back out, and after a minute his partner started the car.

  “I think we should go back to the precinct and find out if any of the officers there has a scar on the back of his neck,” Mark said quietly.

  And talk to dispatch. He wanted to do it in person where he could read facial expressions and no one would overhear the conversation. His phone rang and he glanced down. It was Cindy, probably calling about Joseph. He let it go to voice mail.

  Cindy left a message on Mark’s cell telling him what she had found. She knew it wouldn’t be enough to get Joseph out of trouble, though. If only she could figure out why Clarice had also had the back of her neck shaved as well, then maybe she’d have something.

  She glanced at the phone and remembered that she had told Guy she would call him back. She didn’t want to, but she had said she would. She took a deep breath and dialed Guy back.

  “Hi, it’s Cindy,” she said when he answered.

  “Uh, hello. I’m surprised you called back,” he said. “You didn’t seem thrilled about the original conversation.”

  She bit her lip. “I’m really sorry about that. It wasn’t the conversation, it was all the chaos. I think I discovered another clue in the murders that have been happening.”

  “Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather be having fun with your family?”

  “Right now my aunt Beth is explaining in detail to everyone why she’s just sure her upcoming sixth marriage is going to work.”

  Cindy giggled despite herself.

  “Yeah. So why don’t you regale me with stories of guts and gore? Please?”

  “Okay, you got it.”

  She brought him up to speed on what had happened.

  “Wow, seriously?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “So what’s the new clue?”

  “I realized Clarice has a spot shaved on the back of her neck too, even though she wouldn’t have been chipped recently.”

  “Yeah, unless the bad guy was trying to chip her for some other reason.”

  “What did you say?” Cindy asked, sitting up straighter.

  “Unless the bad guy was trying to chip her for some other reason.”

  “That’s it!” Cindy shrieked into the phone. She leapt to her feet and began pacing as she thought. “Is it possible that someone put something on one of the dog’s chips, modified it in some way?”

  “Like data or blueprints or something?” he asked. “Sure, you could modify a chip and then insert it into one of the dogs in lieu of the standard microchip.”

  “How would you read it? Could you read it with the scanner they use at the vet’s office or the Humane Society?”

  “Possible, but unlikely. If someone was going to all the bother of altering the chip, they’d probably rig it so that the information could only be retrieved with a specific device or program.”

  “Could you hook some kind of scanner up to a laptop?”

  “That would be ideal, actually. All you’d need is a USB port. Your scanner could input the data and the laptop could unscramble it.”

  “Thank you, Guy.”

  “Go solve the crime and save the day,” he said.

  “I will. I’ll talk to you when you’re back in state.”

  She hung up and tried Mark’s cell phone again, but he still wasn’t picking up. She dialed Jeremiah next, and she could tell by the sound of his voice that she had awakened him. She quickly filled him in on the latest developments.

  “So what if the plot was to steal something, information of some type?” Cindy concluded.

  “That would make sense, but there are a lot easier ways to hand off information then embedded in a dog.”

  “It depends on the dog and where the information has to get to. Joseph’s dogs go to dog shows all over the world. If you wanted to smuggle data out, what better way than in the dog?”

  “That would make sense,” he said.

  “What if the vet tech was there not just to chip the puppies, but also to insert the doctored chip last Friday?”

  “I’m with you.”

  “Maybe he was nervous, afraid his partners were going to double-cross him. He embedded the chip, but not in the dog he was supposed to.”

  “And then Derek or someone else killed him. And then Derek was killed, as well,” Jeremiah filled in.

  “And Derek’s laptop is missing. So the killer has the ability to read the chip, but has no idea which of the dogs present on Friday is a
ctually carrying the correct chip.”

  “He has to go through all of Joseph’s dogs, and when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for he starts in with the Humane Society’s dogs.”

  “Until he finds the right dog, everyone who adopted is in danger,” Cindy said. “What do you think is on that chip?”

  “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s worth killing for.”

  Fear rushed through her, and she turned to look at Buff and Clarice. “I’m safe, though, right? Even though I’ve got two dogs here. I’m safe because the killer’s already checked both of them out.”

  There was a long silence, and then Jeremiah spoke. “Ordinarily I would say that you were correct, but these are strange times, and I don’t think anyone connected to this thing is safe until the killer is killed.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s a police officer,” she said, licking her suddenly dry lips and getting up to double check that the front door was locked securely. It was. So were the windows.

  “Do you know which one?”

  “No. But Harry said whoever attacked him was wearing Old Spice. I have no idea what that smells like so I tried going by the drugstore, but everywhere was already closed for the holiday. You don’t happen to have any Old Spice hanging around, do you?” She realized she was babbling, but she couldn’t stop herself. She was afraid.

  “Sorry, I don’t. I don’t know what it smells like either, but even if I did, I’m too congested to be of much assistance,” Jeremiah admitted.

  “It’s okay. I can wait until morning.”

  “You don’t have anything else to go on?”

  “No, but judging by Buff ’s reaction earlier, I would guess it was one who wears a uniform.”

  “Makes sense to me,” he said.

  “There have been a lot of different uniformed officers present at the different crime scenes, and I swear that Friday the entire force had to be out there interviewing people.”

  “That doesn’t narrow things down much,” he said, breaking into a fit of coughing.

  “No,” she said with a sigh. “I wish Mark would answer his phone so I could let him know what we found. I’m just worried that while we’re waiting for the stores to open in the morning someone else is going to die and it could have been prevented.”

  “What do you need to do, Cindy?”

  The question hung in the air as she pondered its significance. He hadn’t asked her what she wanted to do but what she needed to do. It was a powerful difference. “I need to go down to the police station.”

  “Why?”

  “To find Mark or Paul.”

  “Or the killer.”

  “Or the killer,” she affirmed.

  “You don’t have to do this, Cindy.”

  “No, but I need to.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” he asked, coughing again.

  “Yes, but I think it’s a better idea if you stay home and get over the flu. Who knows when I’ll need you to rescue me again,” she said. She’d said it meaning it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. She heard the tremor in her own voice and bit her lip.

  “I don’t think you need anyone to rescue you,” Jeremiah said so softly she wasn’t sure she had heard him right.

  “Thank you,” she answered.

  “Can I do anything for you?”

  She glanced at the dogs and briefly considered dropping them off at his place. That would take time, though, and she had the sinking feeling she was running short on it.

  “No, I’ve got it covered,” she said. “But I’ll call if I need anything or I get in trouble,” she said.

  “Do me a favor and call even if you don’t.”

  “I will,” she promised before hanging up.

  “Buff, Clarice, I’m going out for a little while. Take care of each other,” she instructed the dogs.

  She grabbed her purse and her keys, took a deep, steadying breath, and headed out the door.

  When they reached the precinct, Mark hopped out of the car and headed straight to dispatch, Paul trailing behind him. Once there, he waited thirty seconds for the woman manning the line to finish.

  “What can I help you with?” she asked finally.

  “Did you by any chance send out officers to the Humane Society Monday morning in response to a break-in call?”

  “Yes,” she said, looking at him strangely. “It turned out a new volunteer forgot to lock up properly.”

  “Where did you hear that?” Mark demanded.

  “From the officers on scene.”

  “And just who were they?” Mark asked eagerly, leaning forward, ready to find them and tear them apart with his bare hands until they told him where his wife was.

  “You.”

  “What?”

  “You and Paul took that call.”

  17

  MARK TURNED ON PAUL, WHO STOOD, JAW OPEN AND FACE PALE.

  “We took the call?” Mark growled, hand on his gun.

  “We’re homicide detectives, why would we have taken a robbery call?” Paul asked.

  “You radioed it in, said you were close by and that it could be linked to Friday so you’d check it out just in case.”

  “It was linked to Friday, but we weren’t the ones who answered,” Paul said, staring Mark dead in the eye. “Someone claimed to be us so that no one would know who actually took the call.”

  “She said the tall guy had a New Testament name. Paul is a New Testament name,” Mark whispered.

  “And why would I have been stupid enough to use it if it was actually me connected to all of this?”

  He wouldn’t have. He knew Paul. The other detective was careful, methodical. He’d been with him when Traci was kidnapped and he had no scar on the back of his neck. There weren’t any other Pauls or Marks on the Pine Springs police force. He had to hand it to the killer, the guy was clever, using Paul’s name. He had probably hoped Mark would react just as he did. But how had he known the woman from the humane shelter wouldn’t remember what he looked like? Probably because she had told an officer the very same thing when he interviewed her at the charity event.

  He moved his hand away from his gun and gave Paul an apologetic grimace. The other shrugged his shoulders.

  “Thanks for your help,” Mark told the dispatcher.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, eyeing the two of them warily.

  Mark headed out of the room with Paul right behind.

  “Time to start searching for scars?” Paul asked.

  “You bet it is.”

  They called a meeting of every officer in the building to update them on the situation. After getting a good look at the officer manning the front desk, they excused him so he could continue to perform his duty. The rest of the thirty men and women present crowded into the large meeting room, sitting in rows of chairs.

  Up front Paul began, “We didn’t want a lot of rumors flying around so we figured this was the best way to update everyone at once. As you may or may not have heard by now, our killer has abducted one more dog and this time he’s kidnapped a person as well—Traci Walters. Many of you know her, she’s Detective Walters’s wife.”

  Gasps went up around the room. Mark struggled not to connect with them, not to feel the horror that others were feeling. Instead he paced slowly around the room, taking a good look at the back of everyone’s necks as he did so.

  At the front Paul kept talking, giving updates, telling them what to look out for, but keeping quiet about the fact that a cop was involved. Finally Mark finished examining everyone in the room. He nodded to Paul, who wrapped things up.

  “No questions at this time. Just remember to report anything even remotely suspicious,” Paul said.

  The officers filed out of the room, leaving Mark and Paul alone.

  “Well?” Paul asked.

  “Not a one of them had a scar on the back of their neck. Not unless the scar is a fake or they’re trying to cover it up with makeup. I think that’s pretty unlikely in both cases
. On the face, maybe, but the back of the neck?”

  “I agree with you. And we know we’ve both seen the scar before.”

  “I jotted down the names of all the officers present. I figure we only were able to check about a third of them.”

  “It was a long shot that whoever it was would be in the office right now too.”

  “Agreed.”

  “We still have to interrogate Joseph,” Paul pointed out.

  “You’re right. Well, he should be sweating it by now.”

  “If he hasn’t already lawyered up.”

  “I’ll go take care of that now.”

  Paul put a restraining hand on Mark’s chest. “I kind of think that I should handle the interrogation on this one.”

  “You don’t trust me to?”

  “Frankly, no. And I don’t blame you at all, but we can’t afford to handle this wrong, and I know your head’s not entirely in a right space because of Traci.”

  Mark wanted to argue, but he knew Paul was right. He sighed and nodded slowly. “I’ll be at my desk trying to work a few things out.”

  “I’ll send for you if I get anything.”

  “Thanks.”

  Paul headed for the interrogation room, and Mark grabbed himself a cup of coffee and then made his way to his desk. If he could only remember where he had seen that scar, he knew he could save Traci.

  When he made it back to his desk, Cindy was waiting for him, sitting in the chair across from his with hands clenched in her lap. He sighed. He had never checked his messages or returned her call. The last thing he wanted was to hear her insist that Joseph had to be innocent and how could he drag him out of her home on Thanksgiving like that.

  “Well, well, Miss Preston. What can I do for you this evening?” he asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

  She narrowed her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was tense, clipped, “You weren’t answering your phone.”

  “You noticed? So your response was to traipse down to the police station and try to find me?”

  Anger flashed in her eyes, and for a moment he thought she was going to get up and walk out. Instead she took a deep breath and composed herself. “Did you at least get my message?”