Fifteen

 

 

 

 

 

The rain continued to come down as Colt and Brent searched the woods near the cliffs. But after a while, Colt turned to Brent. “We’re getting nowhere. We should have brought the dogs. If anybody was out here, we’d have stumbled on them by now. We need to rethink this thing. How far could he get on foot?”

“Eastlyn’s been on patrol for hours and there’s no sign of him anywhere in town. She’s covered alleyways and every street on the map. Unless he’s hiding in someone’s house, he’s left the area.”

“Okay. Then what if this guy headed north instead of south? He already knows that his fraternity brother probably snitched on him and revealed their original destination. If he headed back toward Palo Alto, he has to pass right by Nick and Jordan’s place. We should alert them that this guy might be on their radar.”

“Good idea. Let’s do it in person.”

“Let’s go pick up Merlin and Deke first. They might come in handy in another search.”

“I’ll get Eastlyn to widen her patrol to the north.”

A half hour later, Brent and Colt caught up with Eastlyn, driving the other patrol car.

“Seen anything?” Brent asked her.

“Not a thing. I’m beginning to think he’s playing with us. Hey, Colt, how’s it going?”

“I’ve had better Sundays, certainly drier. How about you?”

“Same here. What’s the plan?”

“We drive out to the B&B and check the Harris place.”

“All of us?” Eastlyn inquired.

“Yep. Let’s take a break and reorganize.”

The time it took them to reach the turnoff to the B&B was a matter of minutes. When they pulled up to the old Victorian house, they were greeted by Nick standing in the yard, muddy up to his knees, wearing a dirty T-shirt and a pair of filthy jeans. He looked like anything but a banker.

Colt stepped out of the car and hollered over the force of wind and rain. “What happened to you?”

“It’s a long story. Why don’t you guys get out of the weather and come inside? You look like you could use a hot cup of coffee. If you’re patient, I’m sure Jordan can rustle up a piece of hot apple pie to go with it.”

“I’ll take it,” Colt said quickly, wiping his feet on the front door mat. “That’s why my stomach’s been rumbling. I didn’t even get to eat breakfast before Brent dragged me out in this.”

Brent brushed off the mud on his boots and moved into the warm living room, rubbing his hands to get warm. “Let’s put the blame where it belongs, a spoiled rich kid thinks he can steal from just about everyone in town. Hey, it’s nice and cozy in here.”

“That doesn’t explain how Nick got so dirty,” Eastlyn said, bringing up the rear.

“Early this morning before dawn, we woke up to the sound of breaking glass. Turns out, someone broke the window in the studio apartment above the garage. When that wasn’t enough, they broke the window out of the garage, right under a mud puddle. I’ve been out there boarding up windows and cleaning up the water that poured in as a result.”

“Why didn’t you call me when it happened?” Brent wanted to know.

“It was five o’clock. I can handle a guy trying to find a dry place to sleep for the night.”

Colt and Brent exchanged looks. But it was Colt who said, “Not when that guy is packing heat, a big Beretta.” He held out his hands for emphasis.

Nick’s eyes got big. “That’s why you’re here.”

“Yeah. We were thinking about turning the dogs loose and letting them sniff him out,” Brent added. “But the weapon worries me.”

Colt scratched a spot on his cheek. “That guy’s likely got an itchy trigger finger, ready to shoot from the hip and not think twice about it. I’d hate to send the dogs into that kind of situation.”

“How many are we talking about?” Nick asked. “Quake might be a mutt, but he’s a damn good tracker. One day last summer we had a tourist go missing and Quake found her within an hour’s time.”

“I’m beginning to realize that mutts make the best dogs,” Colt declared.

“They do. So what do you think? With Quake and me as backup, I bet we could nail this guy. What do you say?”

Colt nodded. “Let’s move out then. The sooner we find this guy, the sooner I get to go home.”

“I’ll take Quake and start at the garage point under the window,” Nick volunteered.

“I’ll take Merlin and Deke and spread out going north,” Colt added.

“Jeez, guys. I’m the chief of police here. I’m the one in charge,” Brent groused.

Eastlyn chuckled and slapped her boss on the back. “Relax. Military reunion. Always happens when former members get together.”

Colt tossed a grin her way. “Pilots. They always think they have all the answers.”

“And usually we do,” Eastlyn fired back with a broad smile. “I’d be up in the air now hunting this guy if it wasn’t for the sucky weather.”

With Quake, Nick traipsed out back to the starting point near the busted glass. But to his surprise the hound sniffed around the same wet ground, circling several times, and refused to go any further.

Deke and Merlin tromped over to pick up the scent but huddled in a loop with Quake.

Brent drew his firearm from its holster and motioned for Eastlyn to do the same. He signaled toward Nick to hit the remote control for the garage door to open.

The heavy door began to lift and shimmy its way far enough to reveal a messy, packed storage area. When Nick started to explain, Brent shook his head for silence and ducked under the slow-rising door.

He stepped between the first maze of furniture, boxes and mattresses, everything you’d expect a packrat to keep on hand. Eastlyn followed, taking the opposite side between more stacked boxes. There was so much stuff, it was impossible to see to the back of the garage.

“If you’re in here, Pierce, give it up,” Brent announced. “There’s nowhere to go. Throw out the Beretta and give yourself up.”

“Okay, okay. I’m coming out,” the frat boy yelled. “I’m too cold and wet to go any further.”

“First the gun,” Eastlyn yelled. “Put it somewhere we can see it.”

An arm came up. Brent spotted a hand holding the gun. Pierce placed the weapon on top of a box and stepped to the side.

Brent motioned for him to walk forward and cuffed Pierce the minute he could.

Eastlyn moved through the maze to recover the weapon.

Standing in the rain, Colt turned to Nick. “Brent offered me a job. Did you have anything to do with that?”

“I make a habit not to interfere with the police, especially Brent. Are you taking it?”

“Yeah. I think I’m gonna go for it.”

 

 

But Colt kept that decision to himself as Brent drove him back to the cabin. There were reasons for that. He needed to talk to Ryder first and explain leaving a job he’d basically just started. The switch to thirty hours a week didn’t bother him much. He could handle it financially because he’d put aside most of his Army pay for the last sixteen years. And with Simon’s help, he’d managed to build up a stable stock portfolio. Sometimes there were more important things to consider than money. He thought he might like working for Brent. Glancing over at the chief, he shifted in his seat.

“So what tribe is yours?”

“Chumash. My ancestors were here long before the white man ever decided to destroy our way of life. I’m told you’re Apache.”

“Yep. Seems like I’ve been fighting for ground all my life. Nice job you did out here today. You and Eastlyn seem to make a good team.”

“If you’re slowly working up to asking me whether or not you’d fit in, I’ll reiterate what I already said. You’d be an asset.”

“I’m curious. Why do you say that? If I wasn’t recommended by Simon or Cord or Nick, then…how do you know that?”

“It’s your eyes. You’re calm in a crisis. You’re a deliberate thinker. The last thing I need is to unleash a hothead out into the streets. You aren’t. This morning, you handled that kid better than I did. When I found her there in the lighthouse, she took off running up the staircase, and it pissed me off. I was cold and in a foul mood. That’s why she was handcuffed. For some reason, I don’t think you would have done that.” 

“I can’t say for sure how I would’ve handled the girl. But I could tell she was scared. Were you able to reach the social worker?”

“It’s just like I thought. Carla and Murphy went over to Scott’s Valley to see if they could find a temporary home for another kid, a five-year-old who’s about to be dumped into the system with nowhere else to go. Apparently, the girl’s mother is terminally ill and has cancer so far advanced that her death is imminent. But she wants to make sure her daughter is taken care of during the holidays. Carla says her supervisor is trying to reach a grandparent somewhere in China. And right now, the state-approved foster homes are over capacity. In other words, if there’s no room for that one, there’s no room for the one we dropped at Naomi’s place. This job sucks sometimes. That’s one reason Carla took the drastic step of trying to locate someone herself to take in the girl until…I don’t know…it’s a mess.”

The news hit a little too close to home for Colt. “I need to check in with Naomi anyway and find out if her houseguest has been a problem.” He keyed in a text message that read: How’s our mystery girl?

She’s fine. Did you catch the guy?

We did. I need to grab a shower before heading to your place. Want me to pick up groceries?

Nope. We already went shopping and stocked the pantry. We’re cooking dinner now. Get here when you can.

Will do.

Colt frowned into his phone. “That’s weird. Naomi seems fine with the kid.”

“Really? That’s good until I can find out who she is. While Eastlyn books Pierce, I’ll start combing through the database for missing kids. See why we need help? We don’t get many days off, a two-man force is pushed to the limit.”

“Let me talk to Ryder on Monday. I’ll give you an answer by the afternoon. How’s that sound?”

Brent pulled up the lane to the cabin and stopped near the front porch. “I like the sound of that. It means there’s hope. I’ll let you know what I find out about the girl.”

“It shouldn’t be too difficult. Someone’s missing a kid. It’s simple.” He opened the back door to the SUV to let the dogs run free. But because of the rain, they went straight to the porch and the doggie door.

Colt sniffed the air. “Sorry about the smell of wet dog in your cruiser.”

“Your cruiser,” Brent corrected with a grin. “If you take the job, you’re getting this one. I’m taking the brand-new ride.”

 

 

After washing off the dogs and cleaning himself up, Colt arrived at Naomi’s around six. He’d brought the dogs with him but kept them inside the cab of the pickup until he got the word that it was okay to bring them into the house. He was shocked when the girl was the one who answered the door.

“Hey, Colt, how’s it going?”

He glanced over the top of the sprite’s head to see Naomi grinning in the background. Turning back to the kid, he stared at her clean clothes, a pair of jeans that fit and a sweater. “I like this cleaned-up version.”

“Naomi helped me pick out some stuff at the thrift store.” She looked past him and into the cab of the pickup. “Are those your dogs I saw at the cabin this morning?”

“They got worked up. But they’ve settled down now. Like you, they’ve had a bath.”

Naomi moved closer to the doorway and peered out. “Might as well get them out of the cold. The more the merrier.”

Colt grinned and darted back to the pickup. As soon as the door opened, the dogs jumped to the ground and scampered toward the porch. Their enthusiasm almost knocked the girl off her feet, but she bent down on one knee to rub their ears.

“The little one is Deke. The monster that looks like a bear is Merlin. He belongs to a friend of mine. I’m dog sitting.”

While the teen played with the dogs, Colt took Naomi’s arm and steered her into the kitchen. “How did you get her to…stop being…so…rude?”

“The pizza helped. But I took her back to the lighthouse to get her stuff. After that, we went to the market and to pick out some clothes that fit. She opened up to me, Colt. But if I tell you what she said, you have to promise me that you’ll keep it to yourself until she’s ready to talk.”

Colt made a face. “Naomi, someone’s looking for her and they’re probably worried sick.”

“Don’t count on it.”

His eyes grew wide. “Was she abused?”

“I’ll start at the beginning…after dinner…after she’s asleep. She trusted me, and I refuse to betray that trust. Of all the people who know what she’s going through it’s the two of us. If you can’t keep the information to yourself, then I’m not passing along anything.”

“But…she’s…”

“Hurting,” Naomi supplied. “This child deserves to have someone in her corner, someone who’ll fight for her. I’ve decided that’s me. You need to decide for yourself if she’s worth standing up for. Think about it over dinner.”

“Do you at least know her name?”

“We decided she’d use the name Mary for now. Obviously, that’s not her real name.”

Mary abandoned the dogs and came into the kitchen. “Are you two talking about me? Did you tell him everything I told you?” Mary asked in an accusing tone.

“I did not,” Naomi returned, using her stern voice. “That was our agreement and once I give my word, I don’t go back on it. Are we clear, Mary?”

“Yeah. We’re clear.”

“It’s up to you to decide when you take Colt into your trust. But you should know Brent, the chief of police, will eventually find out who you are. And when he does, there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to continue to stay here. The sooner you decide to trust Colt, the sooner we might possibly be able to help with your current circumstances. Understand?”

Mary looked down at her feet. “Yeah. But it’s not up to you guys anyway. They’ll ship me off to another crappy temporary home and I’ll just take off again. So it doesn’t really matter.”

“Wait a minute,” Colt began. “I just had a conversation with Brent. The foster homes around here are all full up. Even as we speak, the social worker is out beating the pavement, trying to hunt down a suitable place for some other kid. If there’s no room for her, then there’s no room for you. Unless you’re from out of state.”

Colt leaned against the counter, folded his arms across his chest and waited for that to sink in. He looked from Naomi to Mary for some type of reaction. And then it hit him. “You’re not a California kid, are you?”

Mary huffed out a breath. “We might as well tell him. He’s just going to find out sooner or later.”

Colt held out a hand. “Tell you what. We’ll table this discussion until after we eat. Something smells delicious in here and it deserves our full attention. It’s the first meal in Naomi’s new kitchen. Let’s eat and talk about Mary’s situation afterward like the rational people we are.”

Mary looked up adoringly at Colt. “I see why he’s your boyfriend.”

Colt’s eyes sparkled. “I’m touched that you think that.”

Naomi put a hand on Colt’s arm. “Spaghetti. We’re having Mary’s favorite meal second only to pizza. Mary, you get the plates and set the table. Colt, you get to butter the garlic bread and put it in the oven.”

“I can do that,” Colt stated, rubbing his hands together. “I’m starving. Catching Mr. Frat Boy was exhausting, especially out in the cold.”

“Did you get his gun?” Mary asked. “’Cause he likes to wave that thing around, a lot.”

Colt slathered butter over the bread. “Yep, Pierce gave up without much of a whimper. It was so boring it was anticlimactic.”

“What does that mean?”

Naomi snickered. “Unimpressive.”

“Ah. Yeah, he was that all right,” Mary agreed as she awkwardly put out the plates. “It’s been a long time since I got to set the table.”

Colt traded knowing looks with Naomi. After sliding the bread into the oven, he helped himself to a cold Coke from the fridge. “Anyone else want a can of pop?”

“I do,” Mary piped up.

“You look tired, Naomi. Are you sure you shouldn’t get off your feet?”

Standing at the stove, ladling out sauce, she shook her head. “I’m fine, better than. For the first time in a long time, I look around and see what I’ve wanted all along. That’s huge.”

Colt smiled. This time, he was sure she wasn’t talking about her house. “What about work?”

“I already called Nick and told him I won’t be in on Monday. Since Thanksgiving is Thursday, he told me to take the rest of the week off. It’s only three days. And I have a lot to get done by then.”

Over spaghetti and fat meatballs, the three of them avoided anything that questioned Mary’s background. It gave Colt and Naomi the opportunity to sow a few seeds of their own.

Colt threw out the first pitch. “You know, I didn’t always use words like anticlimactic. I had to work at being this articulate.”

From the other end of the table, Mary looked up from her plate. “What does ar-tic-u-late mean?”

“It means well-spoken. I used to talk like a country bumpkin because I didn’t know any better. Hard to believe, I know. But my education as a kid wasn’t that spectacular. Once I joined the Army, everything changed for me. I took courses to get better. I expanded my vocabulary. I even learned several languages other than English. Naomi here, did even better. She went to a four-year college.”

Naomi picked up the thread and followed Colt’s lead. “My thing in high school was always math. So when I got to the University of Nebraska I majored in accounting, finance.”

“Math is boring,” Mary added.

“Not for everybody,” Naomi said. “A person has to find out what they like in school and excel at that. What is it you like about school?”

Mary took the bait. “I like art the best. And maybe geography. I like learning about history, too.”

“Sounds like a teacher to me,” Colt muttered before picking up another chunk of bread.

“Me? A teacher? Probably not.”

Naomi sipped her Coke. “Why not you?”

“Because I’ve missed a lot of school. I’m way behind. I’ll never catch up.”

“Hey, if I can leave behind the lousy education I got at the orphanage, it isn’t too late for you to do the same.”

“Did you really grow up in a place like that?”

“Every lousy day. As a kid, there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I tried to run away once. But they caught me at the bus station and dragged me back, beat the living hell out of me.”

Mary’s eyes gaped. “I got locked in the shed once for trying to sneak out. I hated that place more than any of the others. One day, I just decided to leave school early and never go back. I walked out of the cafeteria after lunch and hit the road. That was two months ago.”

Across the table, Naomi exchanged a concerned look with Colt. “I never had the courage to hit the road like that. It must’ve taken something especially horrible to make you take that step.”

Mary stared at Naomi. “I tried to tell my teacher how bad things were. But all she did was call my social worker and rat me out that I wasn’t happy. Nobody likes to get bullied, but when it’s adults, you know you’re fighting a losing battle.”

“I’ve always believed in winning those kinds of battles,” Colt said as casually as he could. “Especially when they involve kids.”

Mary’s eyes brightened. “Really? What would you do?”

“I’d make sure that the authorities, that’s law enforcement and not social services, knows exactly what kind of living conditions are going on in that home.”

“Cops won’t do nothing.”

“Different cities have different cops,” Colt stated. “Take Pelican Pointe PD for example. I’ll be starting a new job there soon.”

“You’re not already a cop?”

“Not yet. And I wouldn’t be switching jobs if I had any doubts that Brent was a stand-up kind of guy.”

“That guy put handcuffs on me!” Mary yelled. “I’m a kid.”

“Brent regrets that. He told me to tell you that he shouldn’t have done that. He should’ve handled it differently.”

“You made that up,” Mary charged.

“Nope. You can ask him yourself.”

“Not me. I don’t want to see him again.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Colt said, picking up his plate and carrying it to the sink. “Since you lovely ladies cooked, I guess KP is up to me.”

Mary followed Colt’s lead and picked up her plate. “What’s KP?”

“Kitchen Patrol, doing dishes, cleaning up, bussing the table.”

“Naomi mostly did the cooking so I should help with the dishes. Naomi should rest.”

“I completely agree,” Colt said, turning on the tap and filling the sink with water. “We’ll take it from here.”

The two worked scraping off plates and loading the dishwasher without saying much. Mary would ask questions about the dogs but offered nothing of substance about herself. 

After finishing the dishes, they started a movie, but an exhausted Mary fell asleep on the sofa, curled up next to Deke in the middle of watching Lilo & Stitch. Colt carried her to bed and Naomi tucked her in. Afterward, they huddled in the kitchen to figure out what to do next.

“What do you think?” Naomi asked in a whisper.

“Even though she boasted about being thirteen, I think she’s barely twelve.”

“I agree. What I don’t understand is why we haven’t heard from Brent. It should be fairly easy to match up a foster kid to a missing persons report.”

He reached in his pocket and took out his cell phone. “I turned it off when I got here. But there are no messages from Brent. That is odd.”

“And worrisome. I’m not letting her go back to that awful place, wherever it is.”

“Naomi, don’t you dare get that look in your eye. Do you have any idea what kind of legal battle it would take to keep her here?”

“I don’t care. That’s a wonderful little girl in there. She’s bright and creative. I refuse to stand idly by and let her go back to those horrible people.”

“Just wait a minute. We don’t even know if what she’s telling us is accurate. She might possibly be blowing her circumstances out of proportion. Maybe she got mad because they wouldn’t let her go to the movies or something.”

“I see. So you’ve decided which side you’re on.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m on your side. Hers. There’s no other side to pick. I know exactly how that little girl feels about returning to whatever hellhole she escaped from. I’m not gonna betray her now.”

“All right. This is what I know so far. Her real name is Tabitha Porter. Her mom and dad always called her Tibby. Her father served in Afghanistan and died there. He was African-American. Her mother was white and died in a car accident when she was eight. According to Tibby, her mother’s parents refused to take her in because she was biracial. Years earlier they’d already disowned the daughter for marrying a black man.”

“Jeez, Tibby knows all this?”

“She does. And since then, Tibby’s been tossed around from one foster family to the next. I’m not sure why the state has failed to find her a decent home, but I have my suspicions.”

“And they are?”

“Because some of them just want the extra monthly income from the state. They don’t really care for the kids that much. I’m not saying all foster homes are like that, but…I think Tibby’s had rotten luck in that area. I also think she’s from out of state, Colt. I think she’s been on the run for months now, before school started. I can’t just let her go back to the same system that failed her without a fight.”

“Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. Since you have the week off, you keep doing what you’re doing to find out as much about Tibby’s background as possible. I’ll work the Brent angle. First thing in the morning, I’ll drop in at the police station and find out what he knows.”

“Have you really decided to take the job?”

“Yeah. But I don’t know how Ryder will feel about my short tenure as a carpenter. I’d like to give the obligatory two-week notice, but he may feel differently and kick me to the curb.”

“You don’t really think that. Drea thinks you and Zach plan to start on her loft tomorrow.”

“That was the next project. It’s all up in the air until I talk to Ryder.”

She leaned in and tilted her head up. His arms went around her waist as he bent his head to meet her mouth.

“I know this isn’t what you bargained for,” Naomi murmured. “It surprised me, too.”

“Things don’t always stay the same,” Colt said softly. “It’s okay. Somehow, we’ll make it work.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“I’m just hoping I can back it up. For now, I’ll take the dogs home. Get some rest. You need anything, text me.”