“They’re all from the robbery,” he told Nora.
She tipped her head, her eyes thoughtful. “What in the hell does that imply?”
“I’m trying to process it too.”
She touched the first finger on one hand, counting. “Did our shooter get his gun from Kaden or the other way around?”
Mason pulled out his notebook and wrote a note. Check Kaden’s financials for cash withdrawals/deposits. Check for Kaden’s fingerprints in Reuben’s home and vice versa.
She touched the second finger. “Did the same person kill Reuben and Kaden?”
Mason considered. “One murder was physically brutal and mutilating, and the other was a single gunshot.”
“They’re on the same street and were killed within days of each other,” Nora pointed out. “Even if the killers were two different people, I think we were correct earlier when we decided the deaths are related.”
“What’s Kaden’s tie to Reuben is the third big question,” said Mason. “Was Kaden involved in the courthouse shooting? Or supposed to be involved? Maybe he didn’t do his part and was punished for it.”
Too many questions to count.
Nora thought it over. “The most likely scenario is that he knew something he shouldn’t about Reuben’s murder, so the killer came back for him.”
“If it’s the same killer.”
“My brain hurts.”
“What if they just happened to buy their weapons from the same guy?” Mason said, going back to the guns.
“And Kaden just happened to have weapons from the same robbery and just happens to live across the street from the man our courthouse shooter murdered?” she asked skeptically.
“You’re making the assumption the courthouse shooter murdered Reuben Braswell,” Mason said. “I keep doing the same thing. It’s not a given.”
“Dammit! You’re right.” Nora turned away and paced in a small circle. “I can’t do this on my fingers. We need to go back to the task force headquarters.”
“And fill three whiteboards with our questions,” added Mason, ignoring the fact that he wasn’t officially part of the task force. He read the ATF email again, trying to recall what he’d heard about the weapons robbery in Nevada. “I feel like we’re missing something . . . a very big piece to our puzzle.”
“We’re missing a lot of pieces,” Nora stated as her phone rang. “Hawes,” she answered. “Yes, sir.” She frantically gestured for Mason’s notebook and pencil. “Any damage, sir?” He handed them over, and she immediately wrote something down.
Mason tried to read what she’d scribbled. All he could make out was airport. And he wasn’t positive that was the right word.
Years of deciphering Ray’s chicken scratches punched him in the chest.
“Where is it being processed?” Nora asked. “Okay. Thank you, sir. I’ll update you on Kaden Schroeder’s murder when we return soon.” She listened for a long moment, saying yes and no occasionally before ending the call.
“The sheriff,” she told Mason. “Reuben Braswell’s truck was found in the airport parking lot.”
“Of course it was,” said Mason. “When are people going to come up with a more original place to dump a vehicle? Did they get the driver on video when he entered? Or on the shuttle?”
“They’re still looking.”
“Now I want to find a silver Mustang.”
“The sheriff says they’re checking the lots at the airport for the Mustang. They were looking for both.”
“You can go back to the task force. Kaden’s father won’t be here for several hours,” said Mason. “The scene investigators still have a lot to do, but I know they’re done with the body. It will be transported as soon as Dr. Trask is done.”
“You’re coming with me.”
“I’m not part of the task force,” he reminded her.
“That’s ridiculous,” Nora stated. “I’ll have a word with the sheriff. You know more about this case than almost anyone.”
“I’m only handling the Reuben Braswell part—and now Kaden Schroeder.”
“I’m getting you on the task force. I’ll get our boss’s approval. Leave it to me. Let’s go.”
Mason had no doubts she could do it. She was right. Him working parallel to the courthouse investigation didn’t make sense.
She started toward the house, determination in her step. “What’s the latest on Ray?”
“No problems. Jill called me this morning.” Mason checked the time as they passed through the house. “She said Ray wants to see me. I was going to head up there after I talked with Gillian.” He grimaced. “Got a little sidetracked.” He nodded at a crime scene tech working the front door.
“Ray’s talking?”
“Yes, they aren’t keeping him sedated anymore.”
“A good sign.”
“Very.” Out in front of the house, he glanced across the road to Gillian’s home. A vehicle still sat in her driveway. “I told her to leave.”
“Maybe she’s still packing.”
Why hasn’t she left?
Dread overwhelmed him, and he strode toward Gillian’s house. Nora caught up to him, walking rapidly, scanning his face. “I’m sure she’s fine,” Nora told him.
“I don’t want another surprise like the one I found at Kaden’s,” he muttered. He’d just stepped onto her driveway when Gillian came out the front door with a large suitcase.
Thank God.
Worry lit Gillian’s face as she saw him and Nora approach.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, tugging the suitcase. She looked from one of them to the other.
“Yes,” said Nora before Mason could speak. “We were checking to see if you’d left.”
“I’ll be gone in a minute—wait—did you think something had happened to me?” Her face went white.
“We’re only checking on you.” Mason reiterated Nora’s words. “Did you find a place to go?”
“I’ll be at my sister’s in Seattle,” she answered, still looking rattled. She popped the trunk of her car, and Mason stepped forward. He grabbed her suitcase—it was insanely heavy—and heaved it into the trunk.
“Thank you.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Mason told her. She nodded, an unhappy expression in her eyes.
He didn’t blame her. Anyone would want to distance themselves from what had happened in the last few days.
“What do you think of her?” asked Nora as they watched Gillian drive down the street.
“Two of her neighbors have been murdered. I think she’s justifiably shaken.”
“I thought you were going to throw your back out when you lifted her suitcase.”
“I think she packed rocks.”
Nora snorted. “Ready to go?”
Mason thought about Kaden Schroeder sitting in his gaming chair.
Too young.
“More than ready.”
21
“This place is packed,” Zander said to Ava.