A Shot at Redemption Page 15

  He chuckled. “Fair enough.” The laughter in her eyes soothed his weary soul.

  “So, tell me, Riley”—Becca’s voice pulled his eyes away from Jocelyn—“tell me about this guy. I feel like you probably know him better than the rest of us.”

  “I’m not sure. I’m not about to kill random people.”

  “But you get what it takes to sit there and line up the shot and wait.”

  “I guess. That right there goes on the profile.” He opened a marker and wrote “patient.” And added, “He has to stay calm, otherwise he could miscalculate. He definitely planned Epps’s murder. So there’s premeditation on the part of the target and the hide. Not sure about Fiat, though. It’s possible the target was opportunistic, but the place still took a bit of planning.”

  “Don’t think he stumbled on that and thought, ‘Oh, this is a good spot?’”

  “He’d still have planned to go back there and commit the crime. I doubt he was wandering around with his rifle looking for the right place.”

  “True.”

  Gavin and Becca continued discussing the finer points of the profile for the next half hour, making notes on the board, including things like the training required for the skill he possessed. That alone would narrow their suspect list, but they had no way of knowing who had that training. There were all sorts of resources out there for learning such skills. He would have to practice, and that could reveal if a person of interest was a suspect, if they had persons of interest to investigate.

  “It’s not like we’re going back to the gun ranges and interviewing every single person who has ever shot on their three-hundred-yard range. This is a dead end.” Becca stood and went into the kitchen.

  Defeat washed over him. How were they going to find this guy before he struck again? They didn’t have enough information.

  Jocelyn was staring at her computer, but he could tell she wasn’t really seeing anything.

  “You okay?” He wished he was close enough to touch her, but she was nearly at the other end of the antique table.

  “What is Patrick actually capable of? Do you think he could kill one of us?”

  The haunted look in Jocelyn’s eyes sent a shiver down his spine. What was Patrick capable of? “Honestly, I’m not sure… You don’t think…” He couldn’t say it.

  She shook her head as if to release the cobwebs. “I wasn’t thinking that. He has the skills, but that calm, cool persona is not who Patrick has been displaying lately.”

  “True. That’s the main thing that’s keeping him off the suspect list.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  As they sat on the couch Sunday afternoon, Gavin tightened his arm around a sleeping Jocelyn. He had gone home last night, even though he hadn’t wanted to, but came back first thing this morning. They had decided to watch the church service online because Jocelyn didn’t want to answer questions.

  He couldn’t blame her. People would probably ask him how he got the black eye. He wasn’t exactly ready to say, “Oh, my mistress’s husband punched me for knocking up his wife.” So why was he sitting with his arm around her now? It wasn’t wise or appropriate, but he didn’t know how else to be around her. This was the woman he loved.

  He and Becca hadn’t made much progress yesterday but were grateful they hadn’t been called out to another scene. With a sniper like this, it was only a matter of time before he dropped another victim. And if he did, Gavin prayed there would be more evidence next time.

  The first sniper scene had produced no evidence. Not a single strand of hair; no gunshot residue on the bed. Maybe he had covered the bed in plastic. A killer who knew how to hide his tracks. Not good.

  Jocelyn shifted against him and reminded him of the other thing on his mind. Her safety. Patrick would most likely get out on bail tomorrow morning. Gavin was grateful they’d been able to keep him locked up for the weekend by working the system. Jared had done everything he could to make sure Patrick wouldn’t get a hearing on Saturday, giving Jocelyn two days to breathe.

  But tomorrow was a different story. Based on the severity of the charges, Patrick would instantly be thrown in jail if he came anywhere near her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. Gavin simply didn’t trust Patrick at all anymore.

  The rest of the team had kept him out of the planning, giving him no indication as to how they were preparing to keep her safe. So, he had made his own plan. If he didn’t like their idea, he was going to stay here with her or move her into his house. He didn’t care about propriety as much as he cared about her safety. And with God’s help, he could say no to temptation.

  Jocelyn stirred again and let out a soft moan. She was trying to hide it today, but she was still hurting. She pushed herself off him and rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

  “You were tired.”

  “I feel like all I’ve done the last two days was sleep.”

  “You needed to. You’re growing a human on top of trying to heal from your injuries.”

  She smiled, reached up, and traced her fingers along his stubble. Lightning bolts shot through him. She was playing with electricity. God, this is one of those instances I need You to help me fight temptation.

  Somebody knocked on the door, and he leaned back and glanced out the window behind the couch. “Looks like Adam and Ella are here already.”

  Gavin and Jocelyn went to the front door together. This was a nice change from six months ago. Once, while Gavin was over, Adam had dropped by. In an effort to keep their secret, Gavin had hidden inside the bedroom closet for almost an hour. Welcoming friends into the house was much better.

  Once the women had disappeared into the kitchen, Gavin noticed Adam’s large duffel bag.

  “What’s up?” He pointed to the bag.

  “The plan.”

  “And that is…”

  “I’m moving in, for a couple of weeks, until the wedding. Hopefully Patrick will have his preliminary hearing by that point, and the judge will keep him locked up. But until then, I’ll stay here and keep her safe.” Adam put his hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “Trust me. This way, you can go home and get some sleep each night too. Plus, now Ella can move into our house before the wedding, so it will be her house as much as it is mine.”

  As much as Gavin wanted to stay with Jocelyn, Adam’s living here would work. There was no one he trusted more to watch her back than her over-protective cousin.

  “I know you want to stay here, but—”

  “Reading my mind now?”

  “Nope, I get it one-hundred percent. It was only, what, eight months ago that I couldn’t stand the idea of leaving Ella’s side for a moment? But I really don’t think Patrick showing up and finding you here with her is a good plan.”

  “Fair enough.” He grasped Adam’s shoulder. “But man, you have to keep her safe.”

  “I will, I promise. I’ll take her to work and bring her home each day. She can help Ella settle in some at the house. And think of it this way—we’ll all have built-in accountability!”

  Gavin laughed. God really did have a way.

  Jocelyn smoothed Amelia’s cute maternity shirt over her belly before hurrying down her stairs Monday morning, ready for another day at the office. She had sat around entirely too much this weekend. It was time to get back at it. Not that she’d had any problem hanging out with Gavin. Her heart fluttered. That had been nice, real nice. She took the last step and winced. Even though she was feeling much better, she was still quite sore.

  On her way to the kitchen, she noticed the light on in the dining room and poked her head in. Adam sat at the table eating a bowl of cereal, head bent over his leather-bound Bible.

  “Now, that is a sight I didn’t expect in a million years.”

  Adam looked up and smiled. “Proof that God works miracles.”

  “Apparently.”

  “He’ll work one for you too, ya know.”

  She deflated and leaned against the door frame. “I hope you’re right.”<
br />
  “I know I am.”

  “I love your confidence, Adam, but I can’t even see what could come of all this.”

  “God hasn’t given you the gift of prophecy, I guess.” He winked at her. “But all you can do is take it one step at a time, Joc. He’s got this.”

  “I know.” Jocelyn turned to get some breakfast.

  God, I’m trusting You. I can’t wait to see how You pull this all together.

  Less than half an hour later, she and Adam walked through the front door of the police station, where she caught Gavin’s eye. He was leaning against the wall near the stairs she had to take to get to her office. Her heart bounced. He looked so handsome in his navy suit, white shirt, and skinny red tie.

  His scruffy face from the weekend had been shaved clean, revealing his chiseled jawline. The lack of scruff called attention to the black eye, which now held an interesting touch of yellow around the edges. Gavin pushed off the wall and met them.

  Adam handed Gavin her bag and turned to her. “You are not to leave here without one of us.”

  “Adam, if I get called out to a crime scene…”

  “I’d rather you ride with a detective then. I know it’s not protocol, but screw protocol. I don’t know what time Patrick will be out and if he comes to see you, I want someone there who can and will arrest him.”

  “You know he’s going to want to see me,” she said.

  Adam raised his index finger. “But he can’t. That will violate the conditions of his release.”

  “You can’t know the conditions yet.”

  “Jocelyn”—Adam took her shoulders in his hands—“the order of protection still stands. He gets within five-hundred feet of you, and he can be arrested. And given the circumstances, I fully expect the judge will issue a no-contact order. If he even calls you, I’ll go arrest him again and throw him back in jail.”

  She loved her cousin’s protectiveness. “Got it. I’ll ride with a babysitter.”

  “Good. Love you, Cuz.” He ruffled the back of her hair and turned toward the squad room.

  She giggled and faced a grinning Gavin.

  “Can I walk you to your office?”

  “Sure.”

  On the way, they chatted about how she was feeling this morning—not that much had changed in the twelve hours since she had seen him last. But she had slept well. Once in Jocelyn’s office, Gavin set down her bag but didn’t turn to leave. The slight upward slant of his eyes told her he didn’t want to go. “You don’t have to stick around.” He didn’t move. She blushed. “Well, then I’m going to ask a tough question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “How are you doing with the whole fact that I’m pregnant? We didn’t really talk about it all weekend.”

  His smile didn’t fade. “I’m happy. Scared but happy. I wish I knew how to navigate the future, but we’ll figure it out.”

  “My ultrasound is scheduled for Friday. Do you want to come?”

  His grin spread a little wider. “I’d like that.”

  Silence hung between them for a few moments.

  “I guess I should get to work before Becca comes looking for me.”

  She chuckled. “Wouldn’t want her turning into a frantic mother hen.”

  “Definitely not. See you later.”

  She nodded, and he disappeared out the door.

  An hour and a half later, Jocelyn turned from the computer to find Adam standing at her door with a long face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He came in and pulled up a chair next to her. “Patrick’s out.”

  “Well, we expected that.”

  “Yeah, but I still don’t like the idea of him out walking around.”

  “Like you said, he’ll go to jail if he tries to get near me. He wouldn’t risk it. So, what’s he going to do?”

  Other than walk into the police station and shoot us. A shiver coursed through her soul. What if he did?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jocelyn squatted as best she could and took a photo of the drop of blood on the asphalt. Another pregnant woman had been beaten by a random stranger. This woman was in worse shape than the first. When she and Adam had arrived at the scene ten minutes earlier, the ambulance had just been pulling away. Now Adam stood nearby, his hands shoved in his pockets.

  “There isn’t much evidence to photograph here, but I’ll need to get the victim’s wounds.”

  “I’m ready to head to the hospital.”

  “What about Amelia?”

  Adam nodded in the direction of where Amelia had been talking to a witness.

  She and the tall witness came toward them, her eyes wide. “Jamison, this is Mr. B—”

  “Bo Bunyan.”

  Adam shook the man’s hand. “Good to see you, man.”

  “You too, Adam.”

  “You two know each other?” Amelia asked.

  “Bo joins us for basketball sometimes. He’s friends with Jared. Worked with Tom too, over at Harrington Furniture.”

  Amelia’s face contorted like she was trying to put her foot in her mouth.

  A sad smile covered Bo’s face. “We all miss him.”

  Amelia said, “Well, if Bo hadn’t shown up when he did—let’s just say, that woman would be fighting for her life and her baby’s.”

  Adam slapped Bo on the back. “Thank you for stepping in and helping her. What happened?”

  “I came around the corner and saw a man, black hoodie pulled over his head. But I’m sure he was white, and boy, did he reek of cigarettes.”

  Jocelyn shifted on her feet. That’s the exact description the other victim gave.

  “The guy was wailing on the woman. He was raging, almost like something possessed him. Honestly, I hesitated to intervene, but it didn’t look like he was going to stop. I didn’t know what to do. I yelled at him and called 911.”

  Adam asked, “Did he stop?”

  “Not at first. I had to rush at him. I said I called the cops. At that point, he threw one more punch, swore, and ran off.”

  A shiver ran down Jocelyn’s spine.

  Bo continued, “He went around the corner, and I heard a car peel away.”

  “Did you see the car?” Amelia asked.

  Bo shook his head. “I was more concerned with helping Adrianne. At first, I didn’t realize it was her. I helped her husband find the perfect cradle for their baby. Are they going to be okay?”

  Amelia put her hand on Bo’s upper arm. “They’re in good hands at the hospital. Thank you for helping her and us.” Amelia handed him a business card. “Call us if you remember anything else. No detail is too small.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. Please catch this guy.”

  “We will.” Adam shook his hand, and Bo left.

  The detectives stared at each other. This case hit close to home. Jocelyn’s stomach churned.

  “You okay?” Amelia gripped Jocelyn’s arm.

  “I guess. I can’t believe someone would start beating pregnant women. Who does that? And should I be scared? For heaven’s sake, isn’t it enough that I have to watch my back for Patrick? Now there’s some guy out there attacking women like me. Is he going to come after me next?”

  Jocelyn sat at her computer late Tuesday morning processing yesterday’s beating victim’s photographs. Thankfully, after a brief scare with the baby, Jocelyn had learned the child and mother would be fine. Jocelyn rubbed her belly. She couldn’t handle the idea of losing her baby.

  Someone knocked. She turned to see Becca standing in the doorway.

  “Hey!”

  Becca smiled and came in the room. “You hungry? I was thinking we could go get lunch, my treat.”

  “You sure Adam will let me leave the building?”

  Becca chuckled. “He really is keeping you close, but yes, he will. I already asked him.”

  Jocelyn laughed. “You know him well! Lunch sounds great. Give me a couple of minutes to close up here.”

  “Whatcha workin’ on?” Becca ca
me close and leaned over the computer.

  “I’m analyzing the pictures of the two beating victims. Adam and Amelia need evidence that’s less circumstantial to confirm they’re dealing with the same perpetrator.”

  “And you really can do that—tell if the same person punched someone?”

  “Not always, but sometimes you can get a good measurement of the marks, and the patterns of knuckles and such can match.”

  “Impressive. They all look the same to me. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that one on the right was from when Patrick backhanded you. But I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

  Jocelyn tilted her head to the side. “It does kind of look like right where his ring scraped along my cheekbone.” She closed out of what she was doing and logged out of her computer, grabbed her bag, and the two ladies walked quietly out to Becca’s SUV.

  As Becca exited the parking lot she asked, “So what are you going to do about Patrick?”

  Jocelyn sighed and rubbed her hands along her thighs. “Nice light question…”

  “You know me, I hate dancing around things. Better to just say it, right?”

  “I guess. Well, I suppose I haven’t told you…” She took another deep breath and let it out slowly. Her shoulders dropped. “I filed for divorce.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?” She turned toward Becca, brows furrowed. “I didn’t expect you to say that.”

  “Why not? You can’t stay in an abusive marriage. It’s not safe.”

  “But I know how much God hates divorce. Marriage is supposed to be final. ‘Til death do us part and all. We’re supposed to keep our vows.”

  “True. All of what you said is correct. But I truly believe you have scriptural basis in which to divorce him. It’s not like he was faithful to you.”

  “How did you know that?”

  Becca stopped at the red light and looked at Jocelyn. “Well, his alibi for last fall wasn’t exactly… exonerating in the moral department.”

  “What?” Jocelyn turned a little more in her seat.

  “Well, he didn’t let Adam tell anyone or put it in the report at first, but when we closed the case Adam wrote it up and gave me the file, open to that page. He had been with someone, well… more than one someone, if you know what I mean.”