Vengeance Is Mine (An Owen Day Thriller) by Rachel Ford

Author:Rachel Ford [Ford, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

He waited until he saw the sheriff’s car disappear into the woods. Then he waited two more minutes, just in case Halverson decided to come back for some reason.

Then he pulled out his cell, and he dialed a number. A Missouri number. A number he thought he’d never have to call again.

It picked up after three rings. “Sean?” a voice said.

He skipped the preamble. He got right to it. “We’ve got a problem.”

A pause. “What kind of problem?”

“You know what kind. The sheriff from Yellow River showed up.”

Another pause. “I thought you said you didn’t leave any evidence?” the voice asked.

“I didn’t. They weren’t here about me. They know, Roy. He said he didn’t have any leads, but he was bullshitting.”

The voice – Roy – asked, “What did he say, exactly?”

So Sean told him, word for word, or as close as he could remember. “He wouldn’t let it drop. He wouldn’t take ‘nothing burger’ for an answer. He knows, Roy. I’m telling you. He knows.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing – nothing at all. I played it down, all of it.”

“Did he believe you?”

“Yes.” Then, he shook his head. “No. I don’t know. He seemed…suspicious. I don’t think he knows the extent of it. I don’t think he suspects me. But – but he knows Rick was working for you.”

“No names, goddammit.”

“Sorry. It just – Roy, you told me this would never be a problem. You told me.”

“It’s not a problem.”

Sean shook his head, flabbergasted and annoyed. “Are you listening to me, dammit? He knows. He knows!”

“I heard you. I believe you. But it’s not going to be a problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ll handle it.”

Sean snorted a laugh, a derisive, dismissive sound. “What are you going to do – kill a sheriff?”

Silence.

Sean frowned. “You’re not going to, are you?”

Another pause, shorter this time. Then, “Don’t worry about it, Sean. You handled it well. You did the right thing in calling. Now, try not to think about it anymore. It won’t be a problem.”

* * *

Owen laid his papers across the coffee table. They were seated in the hotel lobby, with a clear view of the diner. Owen needed that to catch the sheriff whenever he came back for lunch.

In the meantime, he was explaining his theory to Tanney. “You said I was missing something – something that connected all the killings.”

“Yes.”

“You were right.”

“Not that that’s not something I love to hear…but how?”

Owen tapped a photo of a middle-aged man with deep-set eyes and a shave that was fresh a week ago. “Eugene Cooper.”

“Am I supposed to recognize Prince Charming there?”

“Eugene Cooper.”

“Right. I think I saw the name in your notes.”

“Yeah. He was one of the victims, killed in Michigan.”

“Okay. And?”

Owen tapped another page, this one a biography. “He was linked to multiple domestics, sexual assaults, and had a possible involvement with a missing girl.”

Tanney grimaced. “Nice guy.”

“Not at all. And then there’s this guy.” He tapped a picture of a youngish Hmong man. “Randy Khang: suspected gang activity. He was linked to human trafficking on I-90.

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