CHAPTER SIX

Bored, Stevie slid open the long drawer at Sheila’s desk.

Color-organized nail polish and pens sat in perfect rows. Feeling like a slob, Stevie carefully shut the drawer, not wanting to shift any items. She wasn’t surprised that the nail polish was organized by color, but the pens had startled her. Sheila kept the entire office neat and efficiently organized, often getting on Carter and Kenny when they didn’t put away their coffee mugs or the stapler. Stevie had known Sheila was a neat freak, but didn’t know she was that obsessed.

Now she was scared to touch anything. And still bored.

She’d had one call: Zane. Maybe it was time for a magazine.

The phone rang, and she answered with relief. “Solitude Police Department.”

There was a moment of silence, and she repeated her greeting.

“Can I speak to the police chief?” asked the male caller.

“He’s out on a call. Can I take a message or have him call you back?”

“No.” He didn’t hang up.

“Do you need help?” Stevie asked, her concern growing.

“I guess I will leave a message for him.”

Stevie grabbed a pen from the holder on top of the desk, noting that they weren’t in any particular color order. “Go ahead.”

“Wade Pierce isn’t the suspect he’s looking for.”

Stevie raised her head, her pen still. “You’re Wade,” she stated, her heart speeding up.

There was a pause. “Yes.”

“Where’s Liam?” she asked. “Is he okay?”

“I was going to ask the chief that. I heard Liam had been found days ago, but on the news, they said he might be with me or his uncle. What’s going on?” His voice rose. “Who’s got my son? How did you lose him?”

“Wade, where are you? Can you come in and talk to us?” The panic in his voice worried her. Don’t hang up.

“Hell no. I’m not stupid. I know people are looking for me . . . even if it’s for shit I didn’t do.”

“We know you didn’t kill your wife.”

“What?” he whispered.

“Terry’s man Shawn did that. You don’t need to worry about being charged with that anymore.”

Wade noisily sucked in a deep breath.

“Now Terry’s sitting in jail for attempted murder and some other charges.” Stevie paused. “Shawn was killed in a shoot-out.”

“I knew Terry was behind it.” Wade’s voice cracked. “He contacted me, saying he’d give Liam back to me after I handed over the codes.” He took a ragged breath. “But I know Terry. He would kill Liam the minute he got them. I’ve been trying to get to my son ever since.” He made wet choking sounds. “Three fucking months I’ve been searching for him, never knowing if he was dead or alive.”

“Liam was in rough shape when he was first found,” Stevie reassured him. “But he’s okay—” She cut off her words. I have no idea if he’s okay or in the river.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened to my son?” he shouted.

Stevie told him about the death of the FBI agents and how Liam and Marcus had vanished. Then she told him about the jacket by the river.

“Oh my God,” Wade breathed. He coughed, and she heard him dry heave in the background.

Stevie waited, blinking back the moisture in her eyes.

Wade didn’t kill those agents.

“We’ll find him,” she promised. “No one can get in or out of Solitude. If he’s alive, we’ll find him.” Her words felt empty. She couldn’t make any promises to this father. “Where are you?”

He didn’t answer but continued to breathe heavily in the background. Watery gasps interspersed his breaths.

“The FBI traced you to Coos Bay. Are you in Solitude?”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t say no.

She strongly suspected he was in town. “Do you have a dry place to stay?” she asked softly.

“Does my son have a dry place?” Wade snapped back at her. “How in the hell did this happen?”

She’d already told him, but she knew he needed to vent.

“I was so close to getting him back!”

“Wade, we don’t know who killed the FBI agents. Would Marcus—”

“He had no reason to do that. Someone else did it and took him and Liam.” He swallowed hard. “And possibly drowned them.”

“Wade.” Stevie strained to set aside her emotions and think logically. “Why would someone take your son?”

“I don’t know!”

“There’s got to be a reason someone shot two agents to get him . . . or get Marcus.”

Could this be about Marcus? Wouldn’t he have been killed if Liam was the target?

“What does your brother-in-law do?” No one had bothered to research Liam’s uncle.

“He’s . . . he’s a medical equipment rep.”

Stevie tried to connect the dots with that new information; it didn’t help.

“When’s the last time you talked to Marcus?”

“Before Shannon was murdered. Once I found her, I split. I knew I was next.” He muttered something Stevie missed.

“What did you say?”

“I said I saw Marcus for weeks on all the news broadcasts, blasting me for murdering his sister and kidnapping my own kid. He was a mess. I felt sorry for him, but I didn’t dare contact him.”

“Terry said he thought Marcus might kill you if he found you before anyone else.”

Wade’s laugh was hollow. “Could you blame him? And here I have information that will destroy Knight Products. The evidence I have will keep the company from ever recovering. It was all for nothing if my son is dead.”

Wade sounded ready to jump off a ledge.

“Marcus has no reason to be angry anymore. Please come in and we’ll find—”

A racket sounded in the background. “I gotta go.” There was a click and silence.

“Wade? Wade?”

Nothing.

“Dammit.” Stevie tapped her unused pen on the desk. He has information to destroy Knight Products? Is that why Terry said his company would never recover?

She needed to call Zane immediately.

What will Wade do?

###

Stevie stepped into the street, pulling up her hood as Zane parked in front of the police station. She waited. Exhaustion showed in the dark areas below his eyes, and his boots were covered in mud from his search on Jacob Kimpton’s property. It’d been fruitless. Neither he nor Carter had found evidence that a prowler had been in the area.

Stevie had updated him over the phone about her call with Wade, and Zane had agreed that Wade was probably in Solitude.

She stepped close and wrapped her arms around him, resting her forehead against his. Fatigue seeped from his every pore. The stress of the last few days is getting to him.

“Why do I feel this will end in a horrible way?” he muttered. “I can’t get the image of that coat by the river out of my head.”

Stevie completely understood.

They silently stood in that position, drawing strength from each other. After a few moments, he pulled back, and she looked into his eyes. They both felt a little refreshed.

“I need to get back to work,” he said. “We’re right back where we were this morning. Outside of Wade stating that he didn’t kill the FBI agents and doesn’t have Liam, we’ve achieved nothing. People are still missing.”

Stevie agreed. She felt useless. “Sheila is back, and her camper won’t float away now. I’m headed to check on Farah Stewart and her cats. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Is Farah okay?”

“Yes. She called and said one was stuck in a tree surrounded by water, but the water is only a foot deep or so. I can handle that.”

“Be careful. Some of that water is moving fast. Even a foot could knock you over.”

“She said the water isn’t flowing under the tree, just backing up around it.”

He kissed her goodbye, his gaze lingering.

She parted reluctantly and strode to her vehicle, plans for creating a special evening for Zane spinning in her head. He needed a distraction, something positive to offset the recent frustrations. She drove a few blocks and parked in front of Nell’s little store.

The store was deserted except for Nell, and her shelves looked like a tornado had rolled through. Random cans and boxes were scattered here and there. “Hello Stevie, what can I do for you?”

“Do you have any cakes or pies left?” Stevie hated to ask after looking at the empty store.

“For Thanksgiving?”

“No, it’s for tonight . . . I’d like to make a special night for Zane.”

“Hmmmm.” Nell’s gaze was speculative. Stevie kept her lips shut. It was no one’s business what she and Zane did in the privacy of their home.

“He loves your carrot cake,” she suggested.

“I don’t have anything like that. I’m plumb wiped out.”

Stevie’s shoulders sagged. There was a good bottle of wine in their kitchen. She could offer Zane that.

“But I held some things back for Thanksgiving emergencies,” Nell admitted. “I can spare an apple pie, but there’s no vanilla ice cream left. People bought whatever they could get their hands on.”

“Sold!” Enthusiasm for the evening ahead filled her.

Two minutes later, she was headed to Farah Stewart’s home. The cat was an easy rescue for Stevie but impossible for Farah in her wheelchair. Stevie also checked that Farah’s refrigerator was well stocked and made certain she had plenty of food for her six cats. Her home sat on top of a small rise, so she would be fine if the river continued to creep up.

Stevie had just backed out of Farah’s driveway when Sheila called. “Ezra says he saw someone sneak onto Jacob’s property again. I tried to call Jacob, but I can’t get through.”

“I’m two miles away. I’ll be right there.”

Minutes later, Stevie wound down the long curving lane to Ezra Freeman’s home. She’d decided going to Ezra’s house first was more prudent than surprising gun-happy Jacob. Ezra met her in his driveway, walking gingerly and leaning on a cane. His eyes were slightly unfocused, and she wondered how much painkiller Dr. Mercer had administered to him.

“I saw someone walk right through there.” He pointed at an opening in a copse of trees at the bottom of a hill between his property and Jacob’s. “That path leads to the back of Jacob’s barn.”

“Isn’t that where you saw someone before?”

“Yep. This time I ain’t following them. I’ll let you do that.” He frowned at her. “Shouldn’t they have sent one of the men?”

Stevie bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I’m good, but thank you for your concern.”

“Ain’t right sending a lady into somethin’ I won’t face myself.”

“You are injured,” Stevie pointed out. “I’ll call for backup if I need help.” She jogged toward the path before he could call her a helpless young thing.

Under the trees, huge raindrops from the leaves plunked on her coat, a nice change from the constant shower of water. The path was muddy and surprisingly well used. Ezra must sneak over to watch Jacob more than he admits.

She halted at the sight of a single perfect boot mark in the mud. It was protected from the rain by a thick overhead branch.

Zane and Carter searched the area. It could be theirs. Or Ezra’s.

Pursing her lips, she hovered her foot directly over the print. It almost matched.

Ezra wore some of the clunkiest, widest boots she’d ever seen. Zane’s feet were definitely bigger than this print, and she’d tripped over Carter’s abandoned tennis shoes enough times at the office to know this couldn’t be his print.

Female. Or young male.

Liam was too young to have feet this big.

Stevie checked her surroundings, an odd sensation tingling on the back of her neck, as if she were being watched from every angle. She moved off the path, taking a parallel track under the weak cover of the tree trunks and leaves. A few moments later, the patch of trees ended, and she spotted the back of Jacob’s barn fifty yards away.

There was no cover between her and the barn.

I should have started at Jacob’s home.

As she considered her next move, a figure darted out of the barn, hunched over and running directly toward the path’s opening in the trees next to Stevie. A dark jacket with a large hood concealed the face, but she knew immediately it was a woman.

Dawn.

The woman’s hands were empty.

But could she be armed?

Stevie left her weapon in her holster but readied her hand above it. Dawn continued to run in her direction, her concentration on her feet. When she was ten feet away, Stevie stepped out from behind a tree.

“Stop. Solitude Police.”

Dawn slammed to a halt. Stevie caught a glimpse of her wide eyes and open mouth, but then Dawn performed a maneuver any wide receiver would envy and darted sharply to her right.

Oh no you don’t! Stevie launched herself after the woman.

Dawn dashed along the edge of the copse, mud flying from her boots. Stevie turned up her speed, cursing her extra twenty pounds of equipment. She drew closer and shouted again for Dawn to stop. The woman made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder and promptly lost her footing in the mud. She flew forward, landing on her chest, and Stevie dove on top of her, grabbing Dawn’s arm and twisting it behind the downed woman’s back.

“Get off me!”

“I don’t think so.” Stevie grabbed her cuffs from her belt and snapped them on a wrist. Nabbing Dawn’s other wrist, she secured her suspect. Panting, she crawled off the woman and kneeled in the mud a few feet away. “Why in the hell did you run?”

“You scared the crap out of me!” Dawn writhed in the dirt, still on her stomach. Mud splotched her perfect face.

“Wrong reason.” Stevie fought to catch her breath while her heart thumped in her chest. Her legs shook from the sprint, but she wasn’t about to let Dawn see.

“Argghh! Get me up!” The woman yanked on her cuffs, fury rolling off her.

Stevie watched. Dawn Hazelwood had rubbed her the wrong way from the first minute they’d met. Seeing her cuffed, pissed, and covered in mud made Stevie’s day.

“You’re trespassing.”

Blue eyes shot daggers her way. “Let me up.”

“Let’s chat a bit first. What are you doing here?”

Dawn pressed her mouth into a white line. “Looking around. I heard there was a sighting here earlier today.”

“A sighting of what?”

“Someone. I thought it could be one of my men. I still haven’t heard from them.”

Stevie struggled to believe that Dawn cared so deeply for the bumbling Dodge brothers that she would trespass in the rain. She tipped her head and considered the filthy woman. “You gave us the impression you were finished looking for the Dodge brothers. Could it be you’re looking for Wade? You told us you didn’t know who he was, but I didn’t believe you. Are you and Terry working together?”

She laughed. “Hell no. I want Knight Products out of business.”

“To increase Defendicon’s market share.”

“Of course.”

Feeling generous, Stevie helped her to a sitting position. She kept her own position low to the ground, eye to eye with her suspect. A woman-to-woman chat.

“Why the search for Wade?” Dawn hadn’t admitted she was looking for the thief, but guilt had flashed in her eyes when Stevie had said his name.

Dawn looked away. “He has information.”

“What information?”

“He knows something that will put Knight Products out of business.”

“And you know this how?”

Dawn was silent.

“Your mole. He got some data but not enough,” Stevie guessed. “And Wade has the rest, right?”

Dawn’s gaze met Stevie’s for the briefest moment and looked away.

“Why would Wade bother to tell you anything? You’d need to have—” Stevie stopped. Dawn would need to blackmail Wade with something important to him.

Like his son.

“You’re looking for Liam, not Wade.” Fury shot through her. “That’s why the Dodge brothers were in town. They were trying to get Liam for you. That was a bunch of bull you told us about hiring them to find Terry so you could talk to him in person. I can’t believe you hired those bumbling Dodge idiots.”

Dawn gave the smile of a snake. “They’re not idiots. Ethan and Lyle are two of the sharpest trackers in the state. They know how to behave to deflect attention from themselves. They cultivate an image so that people view them as you just did.”

Stevie caught her breath, picturing the two big men. Had the police been fooled?

“You thought you could blackmail Wade once you had his son?”

“I want my lawyer.”

Stevie jumped to her feet and hauled the woman up by one arm, purposefully twisting Dawn’s shoulder a little too much. “Do you know what that little boy has been through?” She wanted to spit nails. “He was held captive for three months. Locked in a dark basement and practically starved! I can’t believe he didn’t go crazy. His mother was killed, and he possibly witnessed the murder of two FBI agents.”

She yanked on Dawn’s arm, dragging her to her vehicle. The woman fought to keep her balance. If she goes facedown in the mud again, that’s okay with me.

“You’re no better than Terry and his hired goon. I hate people who think they can use humans as pawns to line their pockets. What’s so important that you have the right to torture the poor boy again?”

“Knight Products fucked up. They sold defective armor to the military.”

Stevie froze and then slowly turned to examine Dawn’s face. The woman’s gaze told Stevie she believed every word.

“Our military is wearing armor that won’t protect them?” Stevie questioned, barely able to speak.

“Some of them are.”

“This is what your mole told you? And Terry knows about it?”

“He does. And I assume Wade does too. I’d get the hell out of that company if my boss knowingly sold shit like that.”

The evidence I have will keep the company from ever recovering.

Wade’s words echoed in her head. He must have gone into hiding to protect his own skin. Stevie suspected he’d confronted Terry about the armor, and then he’d taken the money and run.

Wade couldn’t have known that Terry would kill his wife and take his son to blackmail him from reporting the faulty armor.

And now Dawn Hazelwood was determined to profit from Knight Products’ mistake.

Stevie’s gaze ran over the woman’s filthy clothes in disdain.

“I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you.”