Justice At Morgan Mesa. Jenna Night
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dozen or so elaborate homes built closer to the mesa’s rim, each one surrounded by a few acres of the homeowner’s private forest, which was also the neighborhood where the Heaton House was located.
Dispatch contacted him again to add that they’d received a report of a blaring car alarm near the historic house. That was something different—something out of character for bored teens. Maybe this would turn out to be an interesting call after all. Levi sped up.
When he arrived at the house, he saw a gold sedan with four slashed tires parked in the driveway. The car’s alarm was still blaring, but it sounded faint and gurgling, like the car’s battery was dying down. Meanwhile, the house alarm, loud and shrill, was still going strong.
More important, the front door to the house was busted open and one of the windows was broken with some kind of cloth lying over the bottom of the frame. This didn’t look like the work of kids just fooling around. He called for backup and then got out of his police department SUV.
Moving cautiously up the driveway, he scanned his surroundings. He didn’t see anybody there, but a couple of tours with the marines in Iraq had taught him never to assume any situation was safe.
Continuing to move toward the house, he glanced into the sedan and saw a purse and a leather satchel on the front passenger-seat floor. Was the owner inside the house, injured or in danger? Had someone with bad intent broken down the door or climbed through the window after her? Levi drew his pistol and moved closer to the front door entrance.
A couple of security lights shone on the outside of the house, but inside it was filled with shadow. Plenty of places for someone to hide.
“Police!” Levi called out as he stepped past the broken door and crossed over the threshold. “Is anybody in the house?”
“Here!”
The shrieking house alarm made it hard for him to know which direction the shout had come from.
He scanned the area around him. The little bit of light coming through the windows shone on fragments of glass atop the hardwood floor. There was a trail of them that led from the broken window over to a closed door. Maybe someone in trouble was behind the door. Or maybe a bad guy wanted his attention focused on that closed door so he could attack Levi from a different direction.
“Police!” he called out again. “If anybody is in the house, show yourself!”
Over the shrill sound of the alarm, he heard something crash at the far end of the sprawling ranch house, followed by the sound of a door being yanked open. He’d already started in that direction when he heard a woman screaming, “Help me!” from behind the closed door. Drawing closer to it, he saw there were dents and cracks on it, as if whoever had broken down the front door had beaten on this one, too.
He wanted to give chase to the person who’d just fled, but he needed to check on the woman calling out for help first.
Still wary of a trap, he moved toward the door. “Who’s in there?”
“Show me your badge and police ID,” the woman demanded.
He could tell she was terrified by the trembling in her voice, but he admired the gumption she showed by standing her ground.
“You’ll see them when you see me.”
He turned the handle and pushed, but the door didn’t move.
“Wait a minute,” she called out.
It sounded like she was shoving aside something heavy. And then the door opened a couple of inches. He saw a small woman with platinum-blond curls. There were pine needles in her hair. Her chin and part of her cheek were covered with mud. Her blue eyes, wide with fear, focused first on his face, then on the area behind him and then finally on the badge pinned to his chest.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m here to help you.” He was in uniform but to make her feel safe, he quickly showed her his ID.
She opened the door all the way.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. There were reddish marks on her chin and cheek.
She blew out a breath. “I’m all right.” She pulled a key fob out of her pocket and turned off the car alarm.
“What happened?” He stepped back from the den into the dining area where he could have a better view of his surroundings. He’d been inside of the house before, but it had been a while.
“Some lunatic chased me with a hammer.”
A hammer? That explained the busted-up front door.
“Do you know this person?”
She shook her head, then winced. He keyed his collar mic and called for EMS to respond. She didn’t seem to be significantly injured, but it was possible that adrenaline was masking it. Better safe than sorry. He also asked for the alarm company to be contacted so the alarm could be remotely turned off and to log a request for them to send him whatever video footage they had.
“The man who chased me didn’t identify himself, and he had his face covered,” the woman said.
Levi holstered his gun, then pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down. He flipped on a light switch. “What’s your name?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the alarm.
“Vanessa—” She said her last name but it was drowned out by the blare of the alarm.
“I’m Lieutenant Levi Hawk,” he responded loudly.
Suddenly the alarm stopped.
In the quiet few seconds that followed, the pinched, fearful expression on her face began to ease a little.
She took a fortifying breath and then told him a harrowing story about being chased to the house from the edge of the mesa. As she spoke, the dazed look in her eyes gave way to a more focused expression.
After she finished her story, two of his patrolmen arrived. He had them search the house.
“Why were you over by the edge of the mesa?” he asked. Any details she gave him might help him hunt down the bad guy.
Vanessa arched a pale blond eyebrow. “The Heatons allow the public to enjoy the view from their property along the mesa. They have for years.”
She was defensive. That was interesting. Levi decided to prod a little more. “Why did you decide to enjoy the view this evening?”
She frowned at him for a moment, sighed and then glanced away. “I grew up around here. Moved away. I’m back for a short while and I wanted to visit a few of my old haunts.”
“Where do you live now? What do you do?”
“Vegas. I’m a defense attorney.”
Vanessa. A memory clicked into place in the back of Levi’s mind. “What did you say your last name is?”
“Ford. My name is Vanessa Ford.”
“Are you related to Josh Ford?”
She nodded, the expression in her eyes turning sorrowful. “Yes. He was my dad.”
Levi glanced away and drew in a breath as memories tumbled through his mind. He’d just been twelve years old when Josh Ford’s lifeless body was found on a lonely stretch of road up here on the mesa. It was the first major news story of his young life that he could remember paying attention to. His parents had talked about it at the time. Everybody had. Unease had settled over the town as the weeks and months and ultimately years had passed without the murderer being found.
Vanessa had been eight years old. He remembered seeing her picture. He especially remembered seeing the lost expression in her blue eyes. For weeks, he’d been worried that something terrible would happen to his own parents, until finally that anxiety had faded.
Vanessa had already had more than enough heartache for one lifetime. She didn’t deserve to have some violent