Tracking Tahlula (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha) (On Call Book 3)

by Freya Barker

  “Thank fuck.” I roll on my back and cover my eyes with my forearm. “About gave me a heart attack, Lula.”

  The weight of her warm body and her soft chuckle go a long way to bringing my heart rate back to normal levels. “Better toughen up,” she teases. “It’ll be the real thing soon enough.”

  “Seven more weeks,” I point out, to which she lifts her head and smiles at me.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Know anyone by the name of Margaret Hinckle?”

  We’ve just cleaned up a two-vehicle crash on Camino Del Rio, when Ramirez approaches me.

  “Never heard the name. Why?”

  “I just came out of the ANL task force meeting this morning and her name came up. She’s the youngest daughter of James Hinckle, a former member of the Utah Senate, well-known to the FBI for his associations with militant and white supremacist groups. She was listed as signatory on the contract for a post office box rented by RDS in Grand Junction.”

  “No shit? You have a picture?”

  He pulls out his phone and opens a grainy image of a young girl with blonde braids. “Pulled this up from DMV. It’s at least ten years old since Ms. Hinckle never renewed her license. We’re trying to get a more recent image.”

  “Could be the woman I saw, it’s hard to tell from that picture. Is she in custody?”

  “She will be as soon as the FBI locates her.”

  “Shit. In the wind?”

  Tony shrugs. “Could be anywhere by now. Daddy may be retired but he still wields a lot of power. They’re having a hard time getting through the red tape to get a search warrant for her condo in Moab.”

  “Typical. Well, if you get a better pic, shoot me a text. I can let Tahlula have a look as well.”

  As much as I want this case resolved, I’m not going to like it when Tahlula moves back to her house, something we argued about this morning over breakfast. She mentioned wanting to drive up today to work on getting the nursery together, and I told her it would make much more sense to set it up in my spare bedroom. It would still leave the smallest bedroom to turn into an office for her.

  That didn’t go over well and resulted in a back-and-forth that ended with me pressing a firm kiss on her angry lips when I had to run out to get to work on time.

  Even if everyone posing a threat to her was behind bars, I still wouldn’t be comfortable with her living out there by herself. I get wanting to be independent, but why can’t she be independent here? I have a great view from the back of the house, even though it’s up and not down the mountain. Sure, her place is a little bigger, but mine is closer to stores and the hospital, not to mention my mother, who I’m sure will come in handy with the little one. Besides, I have a good-sized property that allows for expansion if that’s what she wants.

  It’s like I’m eager to move forward, while she’s wanting to back up. I believe she loves me, I can read it in her eyes, but when I mentioned wanting to build a future with her a couple of weeks ago, she never actually returned the sentiment.

  I sometimes wonder if she wants to share her life with me.

  Tahlula

  I’m still in a huff when I pull up to my house.

  I unfold myself from behind the wheel as Jaimie gets out of the passenger seat.

  It’s not like I was going to come up here alone, but I never even got the chance to tell him Jaimie offered to come help me. He immediately balked and it worked like a red flag on a bull.

  Okay, so I feel a little guilty about keeping my lips unyielding when he kissed me goodbye, but he doesn’t understand how important it is to live under my own wind.

  There’s nothing wrong with his place, except it belongs to him. Let’s say I move in and something goes wrong, I’d have no home. This house on the mountain is the first I actually hold the title to. Mine. Growing up we were evicted from so many dingy rental units, there were times I didn’t know if I was going to have a roof to sleep under. Now, bringing a child into this word, I want her to feel she has a place she belongs. It’s important to me.

  Luke bounds off to the garage, sniffing at the door. He’s probably still looking for Smokey, who by last account is back in his barn at home.

  “This is gorgeous,” Jaimie exclaims when I unlock the door, and I realize she hasn’t been up here yet. We’ve never had the chance with all the shit going on. Her reaction makes me feel somewhat justified for wanting to come back here, but then she adds, “Too bad it’s so remote.”

  Sometimes I really detest the voice of reason.

  “Yeah,” I mumble, noncommittally, before calling Luke inside.

  “Love this color.”

  I look at the walls Jaimie points out. I’m not nearly as excited as I expected to be at the sight of the nursery. Sure, it is a pretty color, but it’s easy enough to slap a can of paint on a wall anywhere. I wander back out of the room and take a seat on my couch.

  “What’s wrong?” Jaimie wants to know, following me into the living room.

  “I don’t know. I love this house, but it isn’t the safe haven I thought it was anymore.”

  She sits down next to me. “Given what happened here, I get it. It kinda casts a pall over the place.”

  “Mmm. That’s definitely part of it.” I look through the sliding kitchen doors at the view, but all I see is myself running for the trees with a gunman on my tail. A shiver runs down my spine. My eyes slide to my work nook and my bookshelves, a place I used to love because it allowed me to disappear into the worlds in my head. Now it only seems to remind me of Lena.

  “You’re thinking of Lena, aren’t you?” Jaimie breaks the silence.

  “That too.”

  “I think of her as well. I don’t think I’ve wrapped my head around that yet. Actually, I think I may be actively blocking any thought.”

  I reach over and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. Here I am, feeling sorry for myself, never considering how coming here might affect Jaimie. I can’t even imagine discovering your husband—the father of your child—is not only a militant racist and bigot, but also a murderer.

  “The other part is Evan, isn’t it?”

  I lean forward and put my face in my hands. What a fool I am. I’ve been so busy fighting for my independence; I never bothered to consider if that’s what would make me happy. If it means not being with Evan it won’t, but neither will giving up my independence altogether.

  “You know you think too much, right?” I drop my hands and turn to her, an eyebrow raised. “It’s true. You’re so used to being in your own head, you forget to see the bigger picture.”

  “Anything else I need to know?” I ask sarcastically, but Jaimie is unfazed, she simply matches my expression.

  “Not at the moment, but I’ll be sure to let you know when I think of something,” she quips, a smirk curving her lips.

  “Smartass.”

  The smirk is now a full smile. “Honey, that’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

  “What’s this?”

  It’s a little after eight when Evan walks in looking tired the next morning, but smiles when he sees the breakfast I’ve been cooking since six this morning. I may have gone overboard a little.

  “A peace offering…I think.”

  He walks over and wraps his arms around me, dropping a kiss on my mouth. “I should’ve called you.”

  I shrug my shoulders and lean into him, letting him take my weight. “No, this is perfect. It’s easier to show you than try to explain.”

  Evan lets me snuggle up to him for a few moments before he eases me back by the shoulders. “As much as I enjoy holding you like this, I’d really like to know what you’re trying to tell me.”

  “Come with me.” I grab his hand and he follows me silently down the hall. His fingers spasm in mine when I push open the door.

  Instead of setting up the nursery in my house, Jaimie and I loaded the back of my Lexus with all the baby things. Changing table, crib, and the smaller stuff from Autumn is now set up in one of Evan’
s spare bedrooms.

  “You’re staying.” His eyes scan my face for answers, so I give him the only one I have.

  “I feel safe here.”

  25

  Evan

  “Oh, I like this.”

  We pull up outside Jaimie’s new place, a nice two-story home, surrounded by a stunning garden.

  “Your mom has some serious competition,” Tahlula points out, as I turn off the engine.

  “I hope so, seeing as Ollie is a landscaping architect.”

  Trunk walks out of the house and lifts his chin when he spots us getting out of my truck, which is loaded with odds and ends of furniture. The rest is in Trunk’s ride in the driveway.

  Between my mother, Tahlula, and Autumn, Jaimie won’t have to sleep on an air mattress or sit on boxes. The only things she wanted from her own house in Denver were River’s things and her personal belongings, which Trunk had already brought back. She wanted nothing that would remind her of Sutherland, which is understandable.

  She adamantly refused Tahlula’s offer for financial help, but Ma finally convinced her to at least accept some secondhand furniture to get her off the ground. Quite literally.

  “What the hell are you up to?” I ask Tahlula when I get to the back of the truck. She already has the gate open and is pulling on the couch from her house she insisted on giving to her friend.

  “Unloading.”

  “Out of the way, woman.” Trunk walks up and hip bumps his sister aside. “Why don’t you join the other girls inside?”

  I can’t help it; I bust out laughing at the expression of outraged shock on Tahlula’s face. With an angry glare at me, she stomps off to the house.

  “Thanks for getting me in the doghouse, man,” I tell her brother when she disappears inside.

  Trunk’s deep chuckle sounds behind the couch he’s pulling from the truck. “Shouldn’t’a laughed, brother. That’s all on you. As for my sister, she needs to smarten up. She tends to be too independent for her own good, which is all fun and games when she’s not almost eight fucking months pregnant.”

  I’m pretty sure it’s the most I’ve heard Trunk say since I met him. It’s also becoming clear there’s more depth to Trunk than you’d think at first glance.

  Jaimie comes down the stairs when we carry the couch inside, looking royally pissed.

  “T? What’s your couch doing in my living room? I’d agreed to a few secondhand things, and that’s an expensive couch. It doesn’t qualify as a hand-me-down.”

  “Sure it does,” Tahlula says, appearing behind her. “It was mine, I’m not sitting on it, so I’m giving it to you. Ergo, it’s a secondhand couch.”

  “If you two are done arguing, maybe you can tell us where you want this to go?” Trunk comments brusquely. “Damn thing’s heavy.”

  I notice Jaimie blushing a deep red as she indicates a spot against the wall, before she darts back up the stairs. Tahlula throws me a wink before she heads up after her.

  For the next forty-five minutes Trunk and I work in tandem, hardly saying a word, to unload both trucks into the house. The last item off his truck is a flat-screen TV wrapped in a blanket. I look at him with an eyebrow raised.

  “What?” he snaps. “I don’t use it. Now are you gonna give me a hand or what?”

  I bite down a grin and help him carry it inside, noting the plastic protection still clinging to the screen. Looks like despite the gruff and abrasive exterior, the big man is a bit of a softie inside.

  The moment we set it down in the living room, he wipes his hands on his jeans. “I’ve got shit to do. Later.” The next instant I hear the truck’s engine start, and he’s backing out of the driveway.

  “Did he leave?” Jaimie comes down carrying River in her arms.

  “He had to be somewhere.”

  “Oh.” Her mouth falls open when she spots the TV. “Dammit, Tahlula!”

  “Actually,” I start, as I hear more footsteps coming down the stairs. “That wasn’t her. Trunk brought that.”

  I recognize Tahlula’s soft chuckle as she walks up behind me, slipping an arm around my waist.

  “Sweetheart,” Ma says, stopping beside Jaimie, both sets of eyes on the big screen. “I’m guessing it’s wasted energy fighting those two. Better save it for more important battles.” Jaimie grunts in response. My mother slings an arm around her shoulders and steers her toward the kitchen. “Come on, we’ve got more boxes to sort through in here.”

  Tahlula moves to go after them, but I hold her back and cup her face in my hands. “He doesn’t make it easy, but I’m starting to like your brother.”

  She grabs onto my wrists. “Well, you two do have something in common.” Her expressive eyes sparkle as her lips curve into a smile. “You both love me.”

  “True.” I bend my head and cover that lush mouth with mine.

  “When you’re done mauling that poor girl,” Ma’s voice sounds from the kitchen, “there’s a bed and a crib up there that need assembling.”

  “Duty calls,” I mumble, briefly pulling Tahlula against my chest before reluctantly letting her go.

  I’m halfway up the stairs when my phone pings with a message. It’s from Ramirez.

  Second from the right.

  I wait for the image to download. It’s a group photo at a wedding or something. An older man framed by three clearly related women. I zoom in on the second from the right and take a screenshot.

  Another message comes in.

  Anyone look familiar?

  Likely from the same event, this second image is of a few couples on a dance floor with a band in the background. I spot him right away, dancing with the girl, his blond hair unmistakable.

  Taking two steps at a time I head back down. Tahlula’s head turns when I walk into the kitchen.

  “Take a look at this.” I pull up the screenshot I took of the first image.

  “That’s her,” she confirms. “That’s the girl who was driving the truck. Where did you get this?”

  “Tony Ramirez sent it. I saw him yesterday, and he mentioned they might have a bead on the girl.” I take my phone back and scroll to the next screenshot of the couple. “And what about this one?”

  Tahlula’s sharp inhale draws Jaimie’s attention, who steps up behind her to peek at the screen over her shoulder.

  “Oh my God. What the hell is Rob doing with Elizabeth?”

  “Elizabeth?”

  Tahlula

  I beat Joan to the door.

  “Come in,” I invite Keith and Detective Ramirez, both standing on the doorstep.

  It had taken them only ten minutes to get here since Evan called, but it was long enough for Jaimie to have a complete meltdown.

  Evan’s mom took River upstairs after he started crying, right along with his mother, where she was able to lull him to sleep and put him down in his new room. Jaimie, however, is still a mess. I can’t blame her; the hits just seem to keep on coming at her. This last one possibly the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  Evan, who is sitting at the small kitchen table, lifts his chin in greeting as Joan gets busy putting on some coffee. Keith doesn’t hesitate and takes a seat on the coffee table across from Jaimie, and I sink down on the couch next to her. Detective Ramirez seems a bit uncomfortable at the display of emotion and keeps himself at a safe distance, leaning against the wall.

  “Take a deep breath and let me help you sort through this,” Keith says in his calm even voice. “You say you recognize the woman in the picture as Elizabeth?”

  Jaimie nods. “Y-yes, but I d-don’t understand w-why—”

  “Easy now. One step at a time, okay? We’ll get there. Let’s start by how you know Elizabeth.”

  She nods again, this time taking a huge breath in and blowing it out. “Griffion.” Her voice is much firmer now. “It was about a month after River was born. I was on my way home from his follow-up visit when I decided to drop in at the office. Lena hadn’t seen him since he was a wrinkly newborn, and I wanted to show
him off.” She looks down at her fidgeting fingers on her lap and I reach out my hand to still them. She glances my way as she grabs on. “She was at my desk; Elizabeth. Well, of course, I didn’t know her name until Lena introduced her as the temp filling in for me. I remember the girl barely registered me but seemed to be quite taken with River. I didn’t really talk to her and left when the baby got fussy.”

  “Did you ever see or hear of her again?” Jaimie looks up at Ramirez, who posed the question.

  “No. By the time Sue Griffion called me to ask me where Lena was, she was no longer in the office. Lena had cancelled the contract with the temp agency the week before.”

  “Isn’t that odd?” Keith points out. “You mentioned you weren’t supposed to be back at work until the first full week of June, why would she cancel them a week early?”

  “I initially thought she’d mixed up the date of my return, but now I wonder. Shit, I don’t trust anything I thought I knew anymore.” Her shoulders slump and I slide my arm around them.

  “What about you?” Blackfoot looks at me. “Can you recall Ms. Griffion mentioning anything about Jaimie’s replacement?”

  “No. I knew she hired someone temporarily, but other than a strange voice answering the agency phone when I called in to talk to Lena, I never met her. Never had reason to go into the office. Didn’t even know her name until now.”

  “Except it’s not really her name,” Evan, who has been quiet so far, pipes up. “Tony told me her name is Margaret Hinckle. What if Lena found out the woman working for her wasn’t who she said she was? That Elizabeth was not her real name?”

  “Since she clearly wasn’t a stranger to Sutherland, who was targeting Tahlula,” Joan contributes as she carries in a tray with coffee. “It makes sense to conclude the woman was working alongside him. She may have been gathering information on Tahlula for him.”