feeling, about work, about their marriage, about so many things. Alex was gentle in a way that still caught her off guard, and with the morninglight filtering through the kitchen windows, she caught a glimpse of the man she had fallen in love with. For a moment she wished everything could go back to the way it used to be. Simple.
Her lips parted as she searched for a way to begin.
Then Alex’s cell phone went off, interrupting her thoughts. The opening strains of his ringtone played the distinctive slow tolling of AC/DC’s “Hells Bells.” Their eyes met across the island. Jill turned away in resignation. They both knew that he was going to answer. It was what made him such a good cop. And made her such an angry wife.
Jill shifted in her chair, breaking eye contact, and took a sip of coffee, for once grateful for the interruption.
Alex glanced at the call display and closed his eyes for a split second, a wince of regret.
“I’ve got to take this,” he said as he held the phone to his ear. “Alex here.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he listened intently.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I ’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Kris Thompson asked, her voice all business.
“Start with the good news,” Alex said. He looked past Jill to stare sightlessly out the kitchen window.
“I finally got the report from the ISP linking a suspect to the emails in the Watson case. Scumbag’s name is Jerry Honeywell. He’s a certified mechanic for—get this—Harley-Davidson in Renton. He’s the registered owner of a big old ’47 hog.” Kris drew out the last part with a fake southern drawl. “He also owns a Chevy S10 truck. Driver’s license photo is a match for the one we found on Natalie’s phone.”
“Is he working today?”
“The dealership’s showroom is open, but the garage is closed.” Kris paused, giving Alex time to process the new information. “Now for the bad news: he has prior arrests for sexual assault. He likes his girls young. There wasn’t enough evidence to make the charges stick. The girls refused to testify.”
Electricity crackled along his nerve endings as he gripped the phone harder. Given the prior arrests, there was a high likelihood that Honeywell would escalate his behavior. Escalate to what though? Abduction? Murder? Was he capable of such things? Maybe he didn’t want to leave any witnesses behind this time. Alex hoped to Christ that he was wrong, but given that Natalie had been missing for almost a week, optimism was hard to come by.
“I’ll call Jackson. I’m on my way in.” Alex said, his eyes flicking back to Jill, who was staring at her folded hands. “I want everything you have on this guy on my desk. Phone records. Bank accounts. Does he own any firearms? Let’s get to know this asshole.”
“You got it.”
“Listen …,” he said, turning back toward Jill.
“Go.” Jill brushed her hand across her lips. “It’s okay.” She forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I’m sorry. We’ll talk later.” Alex bent to plant a soft kiss on her hair before jogging upstairs.
Search warrant secured, strategy set, SWAT on alert, and the green light to bring Honeywell in for questioning given. Yet the case they had developed to this point, though compelling, was purely circumstantial. They needed physical evidence linking Jerry Honeywell to Natalie’s abduction to make the charges stick. Alex wanted to leave no loopholes for the bastard to slip through. If more care had been taken building the previous sexual-assault cases, maybe Natalie would be safe at home this very moment.
Alex and Jackson spearheaded the small team that was positioned outside Honeywell’s home in the Skyway neighborhood. The place just felt right. This was the guy. The truck was in the detached garage, but the motorcycle was nowhere in sight.
Alex directed several members of the precinct’s anticrime squad around the back of the house, praying that Honeywell was
Her lips parted as she searched for a way to begin.
Then Alex’s cell phone went off, interrupting her thoughts. The opening strains of his ringtone played the distinctive slow tolling of AC/DC’s “Hells Bells.” Their eyes met across the island. Jill turned away in resignation. They both knew that he was going to answer. It was what made him such a good cop. And made her such an angry wife.
Jill shifted in her chair, breaking eye contact, and took a sip of coffee, for once grateful for the interruption.
Alex glanced at the call display and closed his eyes for a split second, a wince of regret.
“I’ve got to take this,” he said as he held the phone to his ear. “Alex here.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he listened intently.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I ’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Kris Thompson asked, her voice all business.
“Start with the good news,” Alex said. He looked past Jill to stare sightlessly out the kitchen window.
“I finally got the report from the ISP linking a suspect to the emails in the Watson case. Scumbag’s name is Jerry Honeywell. He’s a certified mechanic for—get this—Harley-Davidson in Renton. He’s the registered owner of a big old ’47 hog.” Kris drew out the last part with a fake southern drawl. “He also owns a Chevy S10 truck. Driver’s license photo is a match for the one we found on Natalie’s phone.”
“Is he working today?”
“The dealership’s showroom is open, but the garage is closed.” Kris paused, giving Alex time to process the new information. “Now for the bad news: he has prior arrests for sexual assault. He likes his girls young. There wasn’t enough evidence to make the charges stick. The girls refused to testify.”
Electricity crackled along his nerve endings as he gripped the phone harder. Given the prior arrests, there was a high likelihood that Honeywell would escalate his behavior. Escalate to what though? Abduction? Murder? Was he capable of such things? Maybe he didn’t want to leave any witnesses behind this time. Alex hoped to Christ that he was wrong, but given that Natalie had been missing for almost a week, optimism was hard to come by.
“I’ll call Jackson. I’m on my way in.” Alex said, his eyes flicking back to Jill, who was staring at her folded hands. “I want everything you have on this guy on my desk. Phone records. Bank accounts. Does he own any firearms? Let’s get to know this asshole.”
“You got it.”
“Listen …,” he said, turning back toward Jill.
“Go.” Jill brushed her hand across her lips. “It’s okay.” She forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I’m sorry. We’ll talk later.” Alex bent to plant a soft kiss on her hair before jogging upstairs.
Search warrant secured, strategy set, SWAT on alert, and the green light to bring Honeywell in for questioning given. Yet the case they had developed to this point, though compelling, was purely circumstantial. They needed physical evidence linking Jerry Honeywell to Natalie’s abduction to make the charges stick. Alex wanted to leave no loopholes for the bastard to slip through. If more care had been taken building the previous sexual-assault cases, maybe Natalie would be safe at home this very moment.
Alex and Jackson spearheaded the small team that was positioned outside Honeywell’s home in the Skyway neighborhood. The place just felt right. This was the guy. The truck was in the detached garage, but the motorcycle was nowhere in sight.
Alex directed several members of the precinct’s anticrime squad around the back of the house, praying that Honeywell was
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