“In your report, you’ve stated that security camera footage from Colton Oil shows the shooter appears to be of slight build, five-eight or five-nine, in a black ski mask and covered head to toe in black.”
He flicked through the pages of Kerry’s report, refreshing his memory.
“That means there was no way to tell gender or age.”
It also meant they couldn’t rule Ace Colton in or out of the list of suspects. It was frustrating, but typical of this investigation.
“Joanne Bates, the cleaning woman, thinks she heard a man’s voice say ‘Mom,’ followed by the F word. Her vacuum was running, so she can’t be sure. And Dee Walton, Payne Colton’s administrative assistant, found an Arizona State Sun Devils pin in Payne’s office.”
Kerry nodded. “That was weird because Payne had no affiliation with Arizona State, and he wasn’t much into football. There’s speculation in the family that the shooter could have dropped it.”
“Speculation seems to be all we’ve got right now.” Frustration was a tight knot in Spencer’s gut as he placed the pages back in order. “Thank you. This is a detailed account of the investigation so far.”
“It’s not much to work with, I know.” Kerry looked apologetic.
“You can only report on what you’re given. This isn’t a murder case, so we don’t have the same resources. But the shooter obviously meant for Payne to die, and the doctors aren’t hopeful about his chances of recovery.” Spencer took a slug from the hour-old cup of coffee on his desk. “This has the feel of a case that’s going cold.”
The case seemed to be bogged down in uncertainty and doubt. There was nothing which he could grasp and make a proper start. Used to being able to give his team direction, Spencer was irritated by the lack of activity. Determined to take back control, he had decided the forward momentum must come from him.
“Is there anything we can do to change that?” It seemed that Kerry was equally unhappy at the slow progress.
“As I said, the shooter wanted Payne dead. If he hears that his victim is showing signs of recovery, he may make another move.”
“You’re planning to flush him out with false information?” Kerry said. “Isn’t that a risky strategy?”
“Payne won’t be in any danger, and I’ve been working closely with the family on this plan. When I spread the word that his health is improving, I’ll have him moved to a safe place and put a cop in his old room as a decoy.”
With no leads, a sting operation felt like the only logical move. If Payne defied the odds and did start to improve, his attacker might decide to come back for a second try. This way, the police would be one step ahead in an inquiry that otherwise felt like it was going nowhere.
“I’ll let the family know the details when they are finalized,” he told Kerry. “For now, just keep me informed about any new developments.”
When she’d gone, he glanced out of his office window, the bright afternoon sunlight catching him off guard. Maybe he should go out and get some lunch. A wry smile crossed his lips. Who was he kidding? When he had a caseload like his, lunch was usually a curled-up sandwich from the canteen and another cup of coffee that would grow cold by the time he got around to drinking it.
Although he hadn’t said anything aloud, there was a grunt of agreement from under the desk. As far as Boris was concerned, the eating arrangements were never good enough. With a sigh, Spencer flipped over the Payne Colton report and opened another file.
* * *
The Affirmation Alliance Group Center was surrounded by beautiful Arizona countryside. There was nothing around for miles in any direction, just acres of unspoiled land, palm trees and a shimmering hint of mountains in the distance. Katrina, having set out in response to Suzie’s prompting, decided that, if this was isolation, she liked it.
After leaving the highway, she drove along a half-mile, tree-lined dirt drive to the main ranch house. The building had a woodsy, fancy log-cabin exterior and a large triangular roof, and was two stories high. Large, hunter-green gates were pinned back, as though always open, while big potted plants in front added to the welcoming feel.
Since the earthquake, she’d seen the AAG had been carrying out good work around the town, helping those affected. From handing out food parcels, to helping rebuild homes and offering accommodation to those worst affected, they had been highly visible in their efforts. Everyone Katrina had spoken to had been full of praise for the job they were doing.
She didn’t know what she’d expected from their headquarters, but it wasn’t anything as warm and feel-good as this. Feeling slightly foolish now about her fears for Eliza, she parked her car next to a row of other vehicles. Her suspicions were the product of years of worrying about her sister. She should be glad Eliza had found this place. Even though she felt a bit reassured by the center’s ambience, she was still worried for her sister. She might as well go inside and see if there was anything her twin needed from her. That way, she could see for herself how Eliza was doing in these surroundings.
At the same time that she crossed the parking lot, a man walked out of the building. As he strode across the porch and down the steps, his swagger and clothing drew Katrina’s attention to him. Skater dude. That’s how Eliza would have described him. He had handsome, rock-star features and shoulder-length hair peeking out from beneath a beanie. With his faded jeans and matching jacket, scuffed high-tops and graffiti-covered T-shirt, he was just the type her sister would have been drawn to. With a guy like him around, Eliza would never leave this place.
Although she told herself it was wrong to judge on appearances, she knew from experience just how good Eliza was at picking the wrong kind of guy. It was an upsetting thought, one that triggered a series of memories of rescuing her sister from bad relationships with men who strutted just like the one she’d just seen. Despair washed over her again as she headed inside the building. She had to find Eliza and see if she needed help.
The interior of the center was just as impressive as the outside. The wide porch led directly to a large, open lobby with wood-paneled walls, comfortable seating and a long table with complimentary beverages, muffins and fruit. Brass signs indicated the many guest and conference rooms. Beneath a long wooden desk, there was a large portrait of Micheline Anderson, AAG’s founder. Blonde, blue-eyed and attractive, she had a warm smile that, even in a picture, seemed to be welcoming. The group’s slogan—Be Your Best You!—was on display everywhere.
“Hi, there.” The pretty young woman who approached Katrina was a blue-eyed blonde with a full-on smile. “I’m Leigh Dennings, the welcome manager here at the Affirmation Alliance Group Center. How may I help you today?”
“I’d like to see my sister, Eliza Perry. She’s been living here since the earthquake destroyed her apartment.”
There was a tiny pause before Leigh pursed her lips. “I’m not sure—”
“I just need ten minutes of her time.” Now she had taken this step, it was important for Katrina to see it through. She needed to reassure herself that Eliza was okay. Perhaps they could even use this as a new start between them. Maybe next time she came, she would feel she could just call her sister instead of taking the formal step of going through the front desk. On this occasion, she wasn’t sure how Eliza would feel about her sudden arrival and didn’t feel comfortable with that approach.