With an effort, she maintained a calm composure and pulled her cell phone from her purse.
“You know what, maybe we should make a few calls to see where she is,” she said in matter-of-fact tones. “Just in case she needs us to come pick her up or something.”
Charlie swallowed hard, giving a slow nod of his head. “I guess that would be okay.”
She smiled before she turned away and hit the number of the one person she knew could help.
“Hi, Nate,” she said as soon as she heard his voice. “This is my first beck and call.”
Chapter Twelve
It was six in the morning when Nate pulled his car into the driveway in front of Ellie’s house.
When she’d called him to say that she needed him to find Mandy Gibson, there’d been enough concern in her voice that he hadn’t asked questions. Instead, he’d hopped in his truck and headed for town.
Along the way he’d contacted the owner of the bakery, learning that the man had last seen Mandy at three o’clock that afternoon when she’d left to pick up her son. Next he’d called Mandy’s best friend, Kelly Vaughn, and asked her to start calling everyone who might know where the young mother could be.
He didn’t have the authority to contact the hospitals in the area, but he did get ahold of Charlie’s father. He hadn’t heard anything about his ex-wife being in an accident, but he did promise to head over and pick up his son.
By the time he reached Curry, Ellie was alone and pacing outside her office. Even in the dim light from the street lamp he could see her face was pale and her eyes shadowed with weariness. He’d wanted to pull her into his arms and promise her that everything was going to be okay. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a promise he could make.
He could, however, insist that she go home and wait for any news.
She’d agreed, but only after his firm promise that he would stop by and tell her whatever he might discover.
Now he switched off the motor and climbed out of the truck. By the time he reached the front porch, Ellie had the door pulled open.
Nate scooted past her slender frame to enter the house. He cast a quick glance around the living room, his lips twitching. Very little had changed from the day that she’d moved in. There were no pictures on the walls. The couch and mismatched chair were in the exact same position. And there were no curtains on the windows.
The only real difference was the desk in the corner that was loaded with files.
He turned his attention to the woman watching him with blatant impatience. During the night, she’d exchanged her work clothes for a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She’d also scrubbed her face of the light makeup and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She looked closer to sixteen than thirty.
“Well?” she demanded when he simply stood there, absorbing her quiet beauty.
He sucked in a deep breath, reluctantly turning his thoughts to the terrible news he had to share.
“They found her,” he said in low tones.
“Oh God.” She lifted a hand to her parted lips. “Is she . . .”
“Yes.” He’d been searching the bike path that ran along the river when he’d heard the sirens. Jumping in his truck, he’d followed the ambulance out of town and along the gravel road. “Her body was left in the same field as Daniel’s,” he admitted.
Ellie made a sound of distress, turning to pace the worn floorboards. She was clearly shaken by the realization the young woman was dead. Nate didn’t blame her. He’d felt sick to his stomach when he’d parked behind the emergency vehicles and a nearby deputy had shared the information that they’d found Mandy’s body.
At last regaining her composure, she turned back to meet his worried gaze.
“Do they know what happened to her?”
Nate’s lips twisted. He hadn’t had an opportunity to speak directly with the sheriff, but he’d managed to overhear the man’s loud pronouncement as the body was loaded into the back of the coroner’s vehicle.
“Gary Clark is trying to pass it off as another overdose. He’s saying there must be a bad batch of heroin in town.”
Ellie made a sound of disbelief. “Mandy would never take drugs.”
“I agree.”
Over the years Nate had learned that you could never assume that you knew what happened behind closed doors. He’d arrested cops, politicians, and preachers for everything from drugs to murder. Still, he’d known Mandy for two years. She never missed a day of work. She was at every one of Charlie’s school events and baseball games. Plus, she volunteered at the food bank. Never once had he suspected that she was high.
“So why is the sheriff claiming it was an overdose?” Ellie demanded.
“They found a hypodermic needle stuck in her arm.”
Ellie faltered at his explanation. Then she gave a shake of her head.
“None of this makes any sense.”
He agreed. It didn’t make sense.
Just a few hours ago he was seated across the table from Mandy, discussing the vandals who’d broken her window and turned over her trash. Now she was dead, and not from any damned drug overdose.
Which meant whoever was responsible was out there. Perhaps plotting to strike again.
He had to stop them.
Raising his hand, he ticked off the names on his fingers. “Daniel. Barb. Now Mandy,” he said, needing to spark some connection in his brain. “What did they have in common?”
Ellie squared her shoulders. She easily understood what he wanted from her.
“They all lived in Curry. Daniel and Mandy are . . .” She grimaced as she corrected herself. “They were about the same age. Daniel and Barb hung out at the Lodge. Both Daniel and Mandy ended up in the same field.”
“Yes,” Nate breathed. Having Ellie speak the words out loud allowed him to focus on the nagging sense there was something he should remember.
Ellie stepped toward him. “What is it?”
“Walter came to my house yesterday,” he told her. “He asked me to look into his son’s death.”
She appeared more curious than surprised by his confession. “Why?”
“He was convinced there was something suspicious about his son’s sudden overdose.”
Ellie’s expression softened with pity. “I’m sure it’s hard for him to accept that Daniel is truly gone.”
“He’s struggling,” Nate agreed. “But he seemed weirdly disturbed by the fact that Daniel was found in that particular spot. And now Mandy was discovered in the same place.”
Ellie frowned. Then her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“What is it?”
“I just remembered that Doris told me that the field belongs to Neville Morse, Mandy’s father.”
“The land belongs to her father?”
“Yeah.”
“Christ.” Nate grimaced. Not only had the poor man lost his daughter, but she’d either died in his field, or her body had been dumped there. It seemed like salt in the wound. “Do you know anything about him?”
Ellie shook her head. “Doris said he was some sort of hermit.”
Which would explain why Nate wasn’t familiar with the name.
His jaw tightened. He was tired of constantly reacting to events. It was time he took the initiative.
“I think I should have a word with Mr. Morse,” he said. “But first I want to track down the Harper brothers.”
“Who?”
“The last people to speak with Daniel the night he died,” he explained.
“Okay.” She offered a weary nod. “I need to get ready for work.”
He moved forward, framing her face in his hands. Her skin was pale and there were purple shadows beneath her eyes. He wondered how long it’d been since she’d had a decent night’s sleep.
“You should go to bed and get some rest,” he said.
“I can’t sleep. I might as well go to the office.” She held his gaze. “You’ll stop by if you discover anything?”
He nodded, his hands tightening as
he was struck by an unexplainable fear that there was something—someone—out there waiting to strike again. Like a spider sitting at the edge of its web, patiently anticipating its next prey.
“Just be careful.”
He pressed a lingering kiss on her mouth before he forced himself to turn and walk out of her house. As much as he wanted to stay, he logically understood that Ellie needed an FBI agent right now. Once she was safe he could concentrate on his role as her lover.
After all, he intended to have her in his bed for a very long time.
Swinging by his house, Nate took a quick shower and ate some breakfast while he called in a favor from his oldest brother, Jax. He needed to find the Harper brothers, and he didn’t have time to waste.
There was an astonished silence before Jax was demanding to know exactly what the hell was going on. Like the rest of his family, Jax had been relieved when Nate had turned in his badge and moved to his ranch in the middle of nowhere. Not that his older brother disapproved of the Bureau, but Nate had been a reckless, thrill-seeking agent who’d taken far too many risks. When he’d been shot, the Marcel clan had gathered at his hospital bed for an intervention. Well, all of the clan except his father, of course. They’d demanded he quit the FBI and find an occupation that didn’t include him getting killed.
Giving an abbreviated explanation of what he knew about the deaths in Curry, he endured Jax’s stern lecture on staying out of trouble; after all, his brother was putting his ass on the line by giving Nate the information.
An hour later he was back in his truck and headed for Tulsa.
The drive took less time than he’d expected. One of the benefits of living in Oklahoma. He never had to worry about traffic. At least not until he hit the suburbs of the city.
Following the GPS on his phone, he skirted along the west side of the city, at last parking his truck a block away from his destination. He liked an opportunity to scope out an area before he made contact with his target.
It was late morning, but the shabby neighborhood was shrouded in near silence. A few residents were no doubt at work, or school. The rest were more than likely sleeping off a hard night of partying.
Nate strolled down the street, his gaze constantly moving from side to side. This looked like the sort of area where a man could find himself on the wrong end of a gun.
He reached the long, narrow apartment complex that ran the length of the block. It was two stories, with brick on the bottom of the structure and cheap white siding on the top floor. The parking lot was framed by a towering chain-link fence. Nate assumed it was to keep out intruders, although he couldn’t imagine anyone was actually trying to get in.
Circling the block, Nate at last made his way to the lower apartment at the end of the complex.
His gaze skimmed the yellow Camaro parked in front of the door. It was spotted with rust and the back window was covered with duct tape. Nothing like a classic, he acknowledged wryly. Next, he took in the bags of trash that had been tossed onto the walkway. Seemingly it was too much of an effort to walk the ten feet to the dumpster.
Moving forward, he pressed his back against the brick wall and leaned toward the window. Peering through the slit in the curtains, he could make out a cramped living room that was littered with empty fast food containers and beer cans. There was a sectional couch where he could make out two forms sprawled on the cushions.
The Harper brothers.
Nate touched the gun holstered beneath his sweatshirt. He had a permit to carry, both open and concealed, although he was hoping there wouldn’t be any need to pull his weapon.
Once bullets started flying, there was never a good end.
Turning around, he raised his hand and thumped it loudly against the door. Once. Twice. Three times.
He was about to go for number four when the door was jerked open to reveal a man with greasy blond hair and a gaunt face that was beginning to show the ravages of heavy drug use.
There were no tattoos beneath his eyes, which meant this must be the younger brother, Larry.
“What?” the man growled.
“Morning, sunshine,” Nate drawled.
“Who the hell are you?”
Nate shrugged. “I would say your worst nightmare, but it’s just so cliché.”
The man blinked, his eyes painfully bloodshot and his hands unsteady as he clenched them into tight fists. “A funny guy?”
“Some people think so.”
“Oh yeah?” Larry lifted his arm, telecasting his intention so even a child could have dodged the clumsy punch. “Laugh at this.”
Nate easily dipped beneath the wild swing, grabbing the man by the throat. Digging his fingers into the man’s flesh, he shoved him back into the apartment and slammed him against the wall.
Larry grunted in pain, futilely trying to break free of Nate’s ruthless grip.
“I’m calling the cops. You have no right—”
“FBI,” Nate interrupted.
He didn’t actually claim he was an active agent, but Larry jumped to the obvious conclusion.
His pasty face paled to white. “You’re a Fed?”
“I have a few questions for you,” Nate said without answering the question.
The man licked his lips, sending a desperate glance toward his brother, who was snoring loudly on the nearby couch. Realizing there wasn’t going to be any help from the passed-out Bert, Larry returned his gaze to Nate.
“I don’t know nothing.” His expression was as petulant as his tone.
Nate rolled his eyes. “Truer words have never been spoken.”
“What?”
Nate shook his head. The apartment was filthy and smelled like old socks. He didn’t even want to think about what might be crawling beneath the piles of trash.
The sooner he had his answers, the sooner he could go home and jump back in the shower.
“Daniel Perry.”
Larry looked blank. “What about him?”
“Was it an accident or did you deliberately kill him?”
Nate had discovered over the years of interrogating junkies it was always best to go for a direct assault. Their fried brains couldn’t handle subtle.
“Kill him?” The man looked genuinely perplexed. “Is this a joke?”
“There’s nothing funny about death row.”
Larry scowled. “Daniel’s fine. We just saw him the other night. If he said we tried to hurt him, then he’s a liar. I wanted to pound in his face, but my brother wouldn’t let me.”
“So instead you watched him overdose and just walked away?”
Larry resumed his struggle to get free. “Why do you keep blabbering about Daniel? I told you, he’s fine.”
Nate tightened his grip. The man was about the same size, but he’d been using for so long he didn’t have the strength or balance to gain any leverage.
“I doubt he would agree with you,” Nate drawled. “They found his dead body where you dumped him.”
The man’s struggles abruptly halted. “Dead.” His mouth hung open. “Daniel’s dead?”
His shock was palpable. And unless he was the best actor in the entire world, he truly hadn’t known about Daniel.
Not that Nate was about to let up on the pressure. Even if the Harper brothers hadn’t killed Daniel, they might have information that would lead Nate to the person responsible.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know,” he growled.
Larry’s gaze flicked wildly toward the door, as if hoping one of his stoner friends would make a sudden appearance and rescue him.
Unfortunately for him, there was nothing but a stray dog sniffing around the nearby trash.
“Look, I barely knew him. In fact, it’s been years since—”
“You already admitted that you were just with him, you idiot,” Nate interrupted. Larry’s brain was even more fried than he’d first suspected. “Plus, your ugly mug was caught on camera with Daniel when you met him at the Lodge. It all looked very cozy.”
> Larry flushed, hatred twisting his features. “I told you. We did a little business,” he hissed. “Nothing else. And if we were on camera then you know when we left town he was alive and well.”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t know that. All the video shows is you and your brother leaving the Lodge and then Daniel following you a couple minutes later. You could have easily been waiting for him outside.”
The man glared at him in frustration. “Why the hell would I want to off Daniel?”
“It could have been an accidental overdose. And if that’s the case, you need to confess. That’s the only way to avoid a lethal injection,” Nate warned.
There truly was no honor among thieves. If Larry knew who was responsible, it would only take a little pressure to make him name the culprit.
“This is bullshit.” The man’s anger was replaced by fear. “You’re not pinning this on me or my brother.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
Larry hesitated, licking his lips as Bert’s snores filled the air.
“Nothing happened,” he at last muttered.
Nate leaned forward, ignoring the stench of the man’s breath. Meth not only rotted the brain, but it decayed the user’s teeth as well.
“Lethal. Injection.”
“Fine. We met him at the Lodge. That’s it,” Larry insisted. “Nothing illegal about that.”
Nate swallowed a curse. Did the idiot think he cared about any drug deals they had going?
“He owed you money?” he directly demanded.
There was a long pause before Larry blew out a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Okay. He owed us money.”
“And you decided to teach him a lesson?”
“I wanted to, but Bert wouldn’t let me.”
“Why not?”
“Because Daniel promised us he would pay us in full after he completed a job he had later that night,” Larry groused. “Bert said it was better to get the money than pound the shit out of him.”
Nate felt a stab of satisfaction. At last they were getting somewhere. “What job?”
Larry reached up to grab Nate’s wrist, his pale eyes darkening with pain. Was he suffering a hangover? Or was he already going into withdrawal?
“He didn’t get into details,” he rasped.
You Will Suffer Page 11