“Hell of a woman, Jagg.” It wasn’t a compliment. “Ever met a woman who checks all those boxes?”
No. Assault victims rarely fought back, and it was evenrarer for them to overpower their attacker. And none carried a gun like that.
“Something just doesn’t feel right.” Colson picked up a stress ball from his desk. “The only thing we have to go on right now is her story and Erickson’s eyewitness account, which are different.” He began pacing. “Self-defense is understandable and forgivable. So if she is making up this third mystery person, why? She has to know we’d write it off as self-defense and be done with it. Why make that up?”
“Killing a man messes with your head. If she is lying, it’s probably because she’s scared she’d get pinned with murder or something.”
“Then someone needs to convince her that’s not the case so she’ll admit to lying about the third person and we can close the book before the entire town hears about it. God, I hate this already.” Colson ran his fingers through his hair again. “I’ll call Erickson at dawn and verify his statement. And I’ll also have Darby pull the street cams for the hours surrounding the attack. See what vehicles passed by the park.”
“Have him look for a blue, four-door sedan.”
“Wait.” Colson turned to me. “You think Sunny’s attacker could be the Black Bandit? The same guy you think killed Seagrave?”
“It’s a possibility. Too much violence in such a short amount of time. We have to consider that it could all be connected.”
Colson paused, blinking, assessing. “Did I mention I hate this already?”
A knock sounded at the door.
“What?” Colson snapped.
Darby walked in, his skin an almost iridescent pale. Thekid needed food and water to replace the amount he’d vomited at the scene, and maybe a valium to go with it.
“Got more information on the victim.” His eyes were wide, way too hyper for the moment. My senses went on alert.
“Julian Griggs, the victim, is the pastor’s son.”
“What?”Colson’s voice raised an octave.
“Yep. Works full-time at the local Baptist church. Runs the kid program and the soup kitchen.”
Colson’s neck snapped to me. “Did you recognize him?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t exactly a regular at church.
“Me, either.Shit.I didn’t even put it together when we read his name from his driver’s license.Shit,fuck, shit.”
Darby handed Colson a photo of a smiling kid surrounded by a bunch of gleeful children. “That’s Julian on his mission trip to South America last month. He just got back. Printed it from a newspaper article.”
Colson’s mouth dropped. “Thepastor’s sonwas just shot in the head in the park.This is going to hit the fan.”
Darby nodded, but the rookie had no idea how bad it was going to get. Pastor Griggs had been the lead pastor in Berry Springs since the seventies. Smart, respected, and had dunked more local citizens than the city pool.
“Does Julian have a rap sheet?” I asked.
Darby shook his head.
Of course he didn’t. Of course Julian was going to be a model citizen who would never attack a woman jogging in the middle of the night.
Yeah, shit was going to hit the fan, alright. Not just because the town angel had just been killed, but because Berry Springs was going to want someone’s head for it.
And I had a feeling that head came with long, dark curls.
15
JAGG
“I’ve got to call the chief.” Colson said. “He’ll want to make this call personally. He knows the pastor. Hell, I think Pastor Griggs baptized the chief’s kids. He’ll probably come up here.Dammit.”He reached for his phone.
