Page 64 of The Aura Answer
Nick finally had time to think clearly enough to remember Gracie and her family must be inside. His anxiety elevated. “Is everyone all right?” he shouted at Jax.
Lawyer man nodded, and Nick closed his eyes in silent gratitude to Whoever. He’d seen too much death lately. Then he crossed the lot while waiting for cautious Jax to survey their surroundings and scan the hill.
When Nick came closer, Jax said, “Our phones are dead. Damned good thing you arrived when you did. He had us trapped. How’s Larraine?”
They both turned to watch as the mayor resisted the emergency workers removing her fur, and Reuben walked over to strip it off. Blood stained her silk shirt. She smacked Reuben. He ripped off the shirtsleeve.
“Well, now we know how that relationship works,” Jax said, sounding exhausted and amused at the same time.
Nick didn’t care how that relationship worked. Leaving Jax to talk to authority, he ran into the barn to see how Gracie fared. He found the sisters digging beneath the cash register counter, producing piles of old ledgers and papers.
Gracie shot him a look that could have been hero worship or irritation. He wasn’t good at reading her expression. But she—and the others—appeared to be in one piece.
“Mr. Patel’s in the workshop,” Gracie called. “You might want to see if he’s okay. He looked pretty shaken, but I’m afraid he might be building bombs.”
Of course he was. Nobody in this town did normal things like hiding under the furniture. Nick trotted back to the workshop, assured the fruit stand owner that the sniper was gone and the sheriff had arrived. They discussed their plans for tomorrow’s parade. Normality added a patina of calm, even if his insides were writhing with fury and fear. Who would endanger innocents while using the mayor for target practice? What was it with this town and mayors anyway?
What he really needed to do was hug Gracie and make certain she didn’t have any bloody stains on her blouse. That might settle his rattled nerves.
Abandoning Patel, he returned to see what in hell the women were doing. Gracie cast him a cautious smile and returned to reading through old ledgers. Evie shoved a stack of books at him.
“Sammy seemed to be saying he was blackmailing his killer,” Evie announced.
Sammy. Nick racked his brain a moment. Wasn’t Sammy dead? Was there another Sammy? Then he recalled that Evie thought she talked to ghosts—ones who talked of blackmail? He struggled to make this compute while his hostess continued.
“I’m not entirely certain I understand who he was blackmailing or why. It has something to do with catching the drug dealer who hurt Bertie and keeping some cheater from evicting his mother. He couldn’t give me names, althoughturddid come up in conversation,” Evie said wryly. “I’m assuming that isn’t another word for manure, and he meant one of the Turlocks.”
“Shit, Evie. Just sayshit. We’re all adults here and this is what is called a clusterfuck.” Gracie slammed a ledger down. “We’re never going to find anything useful. We might as well start looking for new homes.”
Nick almost fell over in shock. Quiet, proper Gracie did not use that language. She had to be really shaken.
He’d be shaken too if he had a solid, comfortable life and some wanker steamrollered over it. He took the ledgers Evie shoved at him and, giving in to their daft beliefs, sat on the floor beside Gracie. “Are we looking for naked lady pictures? Death threats? Signed confessions?”
“Anything that doesn’t belong in ledgers?” Evie guessed. “You have to understand how small towns work. Sammy went to school with all the locals his age. He could have beenblackmailing someone about stealing books from the school library in fifth grade. Or he could really have known about drug dealers and have proof.”
Jax returned to hear this. “The mayor says Judge Rhodes cheated in high school. Others may have too. I’ve already done a search on drug convictions. We have arrests—the Shepherd twins being case in point. But we have no convictions.”
“One assumes if the person being blackmailed had been caught and convicted, the news would be public, and they couldn’t be blackmailed,” Nick pointed out. “So chances are good this person has a clean record.”
Sheriff Troy stormed in, halting in the doorway to adjust his eyes to the dim light. “Gladwell, you in here? We need a word with you.”
Nick’s insides sank to his insoles. He’d spent a lot of nasty hours in jail while the police in another county sorted out his cousins many crimes. Rising from the floor, he was grateful when Jax stuck to his side. Dealing with authority required marketinghimself, something he’d never been good at.
“We need a precise description of what you saw.” Troy started out with a simple request.
Nick knew from experience that it would get complicated from there. “I parked. I saw the mayor step out of her car. I heard a loud crack which I took to be a gunshot. I am not familiar with weapons and cannot tell you of what sort.”
“Old-fashioned bolt action, no cartridges left behind,” the sheriff said, probably for Jax’s sake.
Jax nodded. “Precision hunting rifle, common, would be my guess. Not a .38 though. If it’s the same killer, he has an arsenal of sorts.”
Nick felt a little better that they were exchanging information. Did that mean he was not a suspect for a change? When the sheriff waited expectantly, he continued. “Before Icould move, Reuben ran out and the sniper fired again. We all hit the ground. Jax attempted to leave the barn but the shots kept coming. I couldn’t tell, but he may have been hitting both the front and back entries. Does a rifle have that many bullets?”
“As many as he can carry. It’s how quickly he fired that matters. That was not military trained use.” Jax shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned at the ceiling.
“But neither of you could see him?” the sheriff asked.
Nick shook his head. “I decided he had to be on the hill, possibly behind the fruit stand walls. That’s pretty solid cement block up there. So I climbed back on the bike and headed up that way. I assume he saw me coming, but he’d have to shoot into traffic to reach me.”
