Page 7 of One Final Target

“Okay, a deputy came across a stolen ATV up at Snow Valley, hot, so just dumped. We have a description of a vehicle speeding away.”

“Great.” Sam turned to King, who had perked up noticeably.

She jammed a fist into her palm. “Oh, catch him, please.”

“I’m on my way to help there,” the CHP officer said. “Someone will be here shortly to take the paper on this—can you wait?”

“I can wait for good news,” King said.

Sam was happy to see light in her eyes. “I agree. Go get him.”

The officer nodded. “Okay. Hopefully, I’ll intercept this guy on330.”

“We have the advantage,” Sam told Jodie as the CHP officer punctuated his statement by activating his siren and speeding off. Sam was familiar with the area, having grown up in Big Bear Lake, with the San Bernardino Mountains as his backyard. When his dad was alive, they hiked and fished from Big Bear to Crestline for years. “There aren’t a lot of ways off the mountain. Unless this guy is Houdini, I’m guessing he’ll be in cuffs before long.”

CHAPTER5

AS JODIE WATCHED THE CHIPPIE DRIVE AWAY,she prayed for success. To be this close to catching the shooter had her as on edge as if she’d mainlined a shot of espresso.

She listened to the radio traffic, her practiced ear filtering out the static. A non-cop friend she’d taken for a ride-along once called radio traffic “so much gibberish.” But to a cop on patrol, it was a lifeline, something you never wanted broken. If you needed help or heard a call for help, the radio was indispensable.

An older-model white Honda sedan was seen leaving the ski area at a high rate of speed. A sheriff’s deputy was in pursuit on Highway18 while the highway patrol officer cut through Running Springs to Highway330, the only two ways out of the mountaincommunities since the car wasn’t apparently traveling north, toward Big Bear.

Jodie tapped her fists together, her mind chewing on the who. Turning to Gresham, she said, “The FBI concluded that all the evidence pointed to Norman Hayes setting the IED trap to avoid capture. If my team died because Hayes wanted to get away, why is someone trying to kill me now?”

“You don’t think it was Hayes shooting at you?” Gresham answered her question with a question.

Jodie stared at him. In all the chaos, she’d never considered Hayes as the shooter. It just felt wrong.

“No. I don’t see it, not at all.”

“If not Hayes, then who?” There was genuine curiosity in his tone, no mocking condescension, which she felt like she got from a couple of the FBI agents.

“I don’t know. You said the IED was complex. Nothing in Hayes’s background suggests he could put together such a device. He’s a drug dealer, and that’s what the warrants were about. No gun or explosive charges. What beef could he have with me? Everyone is stuck on him, to the exclusion of anything else,” Jodie said through gritted teeth.

Gresham’s eyebrows arched. “You’re right. I’ve been through the reports, backwards and forwards. Except for Archie Radio—”

“Jukebox.”

He nodded. “Your CI—I haven’t seen the names of any other viable suspects.”

“Jukebox is not a killer.” Jodie felt her face flush and worked to control the frustrated rage bubbling to the surface. She wasn’t certain if it was coming to the surface now because she’d just come close to being shot or because she’d stuffed it down for so long.

“This all feels so personal. The IED was premeditated. Whoever planned that day had a personal reason for so deadly an attack.” She pounded her fist into her hand to emphasize her point. Her voice rose as anger festered, then spilled out like flaming liquid.

“My team and I were never threatened beyond the normal stuff you get when you arrest a bad actor. I’ve told everyone who will listen that I know the explosion was personal. The FBI and the ATF said there was no evidence to support my ‘gut feeling.’” She held her hands up to make air quotes.

“They tore apart everyone’s life, took phones, laptops, everything, and said they found no reason for any single member of the team to be the sole target. In their minds it had to be the whole team. Because we were so high profile, Hayes did it to prove he was the baddest of the bad. I believe there are other possibilities they just ignored.”

She saw Gresham flinch and realized he shouldn’t be a target for any of her frustration or anger.

Deep breath.“Sorry. For months, ever since the last funeral, I haven’t been able to wrap my head around Hayes doing this. Even now. There is something else at work here—there must be. Assuming Hayes acted alone reads like a bad Bmovie.” Her voice broke and she swallowed, fighting to regain her composure and a little embarrassed at having nearly lost it.

But Gresham did just the right thing. He stepped forward and looked her in the eye. “Sergeant King, I never assume anything. And I know what it’s like to lose a trusted partner. I’ve been trained to look for facts and evidence. Evidence should fit without someone having to take a hammer and pound it into place. Detective Smiley is sharp, and I trust him. We will find out who set the IED, who shot at you today, and why.”

His gaze centered Jodie. Those sharp, clear eyes held hers, and Jodie felt a connection deep and strong. He could relate to her on a level no one else could. As their eyes held for a moment, oddly enough, a Bible passage came to mind. She couldn’t quite place it, but it spoke about the apostle Nathanael as a man without guile. She believed the same was true about Sam Gresham.

Fortified, and with the first spark of hope she’d had in a long while, Jodie allowed herself half a smile. “Thank you, Detective Gresham. And please, it’s Jodie. I officially took an early retirement a week ago.”

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