All the Lost Little Horses (A Desperation Creek Novel Book 2)
Page 27
Ahead of him, Erin turned into an overgrown drive leading to a weather-beaten house and barn with a sagging roof. Jed was surprised. This seemed too far from Linette’s ranch to be convenient for Theo to have watched her or mounted his assaults, but when Jed got out and asked about it, Erin was firm.
“This was it. I’m positive.”
Jed strode to the barn and shoved open a sagging door that groaned at the movement. Inside, he saw Ken Fields’s pickup truck, the one that had been parked at Linette’s this morning. Already on the phone, he walked around it. No sign of the keys.
He shouldn’t touch anything until the CSI crew he’d just summoned did their thing, but Jed didn’t let that stop him. Fingerprints and any trace evidence might help convict Willis, but were useless in helping Jed find Linette, and that’s all he cared about. He took latex gloves from his pocket and put them on.
From behind him, Erin asked, “What do you want me to do?”
“Touch as little as you can, but search the passenger side.” If Linette had already been hurt, had bled, he didn’t want to see her blood.
The truck was old enough, the driver door opened stiffly. An insulated travel mug nested in an old-fashioned cup holder. Had to be Ken’s. That wasn’t something Theo would have carried on his walk.
Feeling desperate, Jed first inspected the gap between the door and the seat. Easy to drop something down there. Nothing. He slid his fingers through the crack at the rear of the seat. Erin did the same on her side. Neither came up with anything.
His heart cramped so hard, he had to blink against dizziness. Fuck. Fuck. Without a clue, they’d never find her in time.
Floorboards. Beneath the gas pedal. He laid his cheek on the rubber mat to see under the seat. Not feeling much hope, he swept out everything he saw, from an empty cigarette packet that had been right in front to a crushed energy drink can, several crumpled napkins and one leather glove that had gone stiff.
Jed zeroed in on the cigarette pack. He hadn’t caught so much as a whiff of cigarette smoke around Ken. The empty pack could have fallen out when Theo removed the key from his pocket. A tiny, wadded slip of paper tangled with the cellophane revealed itself to be a receipt when Jed pressed it flat.
Gas, paid for in cash, along with two six-packs of beer, a hot dog and a couple of candy bars. Jed knew the combined gas station/convenience store. It was on state highway 380, not a mile from the Crook County line. Ken might have had reason to stop there at some point, but he was unlikely to live out that way. He might even bunk at Arrowhead Creek Ranch.
Focusing the search on what could be misleading evidence could be a terrible mistake, but Jed had to make a decision. He made the call.
*****
Whoever was driving the crew-cab, dually pickup truck pulling the stock trailer knew what he was doing. He took his time coming out of the ranch driveway and turning onto a narrow two-lane county road that didn’t have much in the way of shoulders. Slow and careful it went. Niall wouldn’t have wanted to be the one behind the wheel even though he’d done some towing in his time.
Using his binoculars, Niall saw through the slotted sides of the trailer. If he wasn’t mistaken, there were cattle of several different colorations.
While the driver was still maneuvering, Niall shifted the binoculars to watch another, somewhat smaller trailer being loaded via a chute into a pasture. Mounted men pressed the cattle forward. There went the Charolais.
Back to the first stock trailer, finally straightening out on the road, the dually pickup carefully accelerating. That’s when two police cars, one county, one state, burst from concealment with lights flashing, sirens screaming. A second state patroller braked to block the driveway.
And that’s how it’s done.
Relaxing, Niall watched the action, and waited for the phone call.
Damn. Maybe he did still enjoy the job.
*****
Her instinct was to fight, but when Theo lifted her off the floor of the pickup cab, Linette made herself stay limp. He dropped her as if she were trash and kicked the door shut.
Face in the dirt, Linette bit her lip so hard she tasted blood to keep from crying out. With her hands cuffed behind her back, her knees and head had taken all her weight when she crashed down. Her neck hurt, but, oh, she hoped no tears had escaped. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Theo enjoyed seeing other people’s pain, especially when he’d caused it.
She saw only his booted feet when he walked around her.
“Bet you wish you’d never left me,” he taunted.
“You hurt me,” she whispered.
“Do shit the way you’re supposed to, it would’ve never happened,” he snapped.
Linette kept her mouth shut.
“Wonder if you could stay on a horse with no hands,” he mused.
But for her determination, she would have begged. Please give me a chance. See how fast I’d be gone.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a barn, any trace of paint long gone, the wood bone dry and cracking. The doors were closed and latched, but not locked. She’d be willing to bet the four-horse trailer was in that barn.
“Lemme see you crawl,” he said, in a raw voice she had grown to hate. “Come on, bitch. You look good down in the dirt.” He jabbed her with the pointed toe of his boot. “No, squirm like a snake. I might even take a picture of that.”
Obedience, she told herself. Jed and Niall wouldn’t find out she’d been taken until near six o’clock tonight. Even if Ken wasn’t dead, he wouldn’t be regaining consciousness and leaping to his feet to call 911 anytime soon. Giving Theo what he wanted would improve his mood and maybe buy her a chance to fight back. It would kill time, too…but time was on his side, not hers.
The burning coal of hate she’d carried for so long burst into flame, burning away her fear. She wanted him to know what it felt like when a fist smashed his cheekbone, when his arm broke, when shame and cowardice curdled in his belly. She wanted to hurt him.
Linette twisted enough to get some of her weight onto her shoulder and squirmed forward. Only inches, but Theo slapped her butt and said, “Just like that, baby! Yee haw!”
She drew her knees up under her and pushed forward again. Her shoulder already ached, not helped by the unnatural way her arms were pulled back.
She did it again, and again. When she lifted up on her shoulder, she glimpsed the peeling white paint and concrete foundation of a house. Her cheek blazed from being scraped on the ground.
If she lashed out with her legs, she might be able to bring him down, but he had the knife and probably a handgun.
Wait. Wait.
She heard…something. A buzzing. Maybe the engine of a passing car? But that wasn’t quite right. It grew in volume, until Linette knew. A helicopter.
“What the fuck?” Theo reached down and grabbed her.
She kicked his knee, his shin, squirmed and fought. He roared with rage. Please let the helicopter come right overhead. Please let somebody see.
He slugged her, snapping her head back, then flung her over his shoulder. Even as pain exploded in her face, she flailed, legs thrashing, trying to connect with his balls.
The roar grew until she knew the thing had to be almost directly above. The view might still be blocked by the woods along the road. If so… No, she wouldn’t let herself think anything so final.
Theo bounded up the two porch steps as if she weighed nothing, wrenched open a door and flung her inside. Linette skidded across linoleum, crying out when a peeled seam tore at her arm. Lying on her cuffed arms, she saw Theo snatch up a rifle from the counter. He took up a stance in the middle of the kitchen floor with the rifle at his shoulder. Waiting.
She couldn’t do anything right now but lie where she was, rocked to one side to take some pressure from her shoulders, and listen. The sound of the spinning blades began to diminish, puncturing her hope. Only…it didn’t keep diminishing. It must be staying close by, maybe flying over other nearby proper
ties.
Theo spun toward her, his face contorted in fury that made him as ugly as he was inside. He gave her a hard kick aimed at her side that she twisted to take on her hip to protect her kidney.
“This is all your fault, you fucking bitch!” he snarled. “But you’ll pay.”
He shoved her over onto her face and unlocked one of the cuffs. Then he dragged her a few feet by the arm, yanked her into a sitting position, and she heard the snap of the cuff closing.
“Grab a few things,” he muttered, seemingly to himself.
A second later, the heavy thud of booted feet on stairs came to her.
Dazed, Linette looked around. Everything seemed distorted, and she realized one eye must be swelling shut from that last blow. That side of her face hurt fiercely, as did her hip, shoulders, knees…just about all of her.
Concentrate.
Old kitchen, peeling linoleum and torn, battered cupboards. He had left the rifle on the countertop, where she had no chance of getting to it, not with her cuffed to the handle on the refrigerator. Left alone long enough, she might have been able to wrench the handle from the refrigerator door, given the age of the appliance, but a couple of tentative tugs didn’t loosen it. She had this awful image of the refrigerator toppling onto her.
Theo must believe he could make a successful getaway. Why else did he need ‘things’? Would he take her with him…or rape her now and kill her before he left?
Just for this single moment, she let herself remember the look in Jed’s blue eyes when he’d awakened this morning and smiled at her. So impossibly tender. The painful emotions washed through her again. She didn’t want to die, but almost worse, she hated the idea of leaving him alone. If he found her, saw her body… Linette was afraid it would break him. To finally let himself love someone and then lose her in such a hideous way would be bad enough, but he’d also believe he was to blame. He’d vowed to keep her safe. She couldn’t imagine him surviving that failure.
Swallowing, trying to force back tears that burned behind her eyes and in her sinuses, Linette dug deep in search of resolve. Theo couldn’t remain vigilant forever. She had to believe she’d have an opportunity to get away.
*****
The pickup truck met Erin’s and Linette’s description. Jed rifled the glove compartment and found a registration under an unfamiliar name. He slammed the passenger door and looked around.
Jed had driven here like a madman after getting a message relayed from the helicopter pilot that he’d seen a man and woman struggling near a black pickup. The woman, the pilot thought, might have been handcuffed. The entire way, Jed had feared the lead would prove to be false. What if this turned out to be the scene of an outbreak of domestic violence between some other couple?
Still tense, he heard a whinny. He didn’t see any horses, but jogged around the barn. Behind a rusting barbed wire fence, he saw a horse with a silver coat and distinctive markings that always made him think of a zebra. A blue dun, Linette would have said. The horse’s mane fell almost to its knees and the lush tail brushed the ground.
A couple of other horses rested under some trees, and he felt sure the fourth one was here somewhere. His relief was profound, weakening him until he bent over and braced his hands on his thighs. No mistake – this was where Willis had brought Linette.
And once he found her – and he wouldn’t let himself believe he wouldn’t – he’d be able to tell Linette her horses were safe.
Another patrol car had pulled in by the time he circled the barn again. Ben Fischer, who must have driven more moderately.
He gestured to his fellow deputy, who nodded and went around the house to the back.
Jed gave him a minute, then reached for the doorknob. It turned easily under his hand. Not locked. Simultaneously, he heard the crack as the young deputy kicked in the back door. Jed scanned the kitchen, then moved swiftly, gun in a two-handed firing position. He stopped momentarily at the sight of blood on the kitchen floor. Streaks only. He avoided it as he edged toward a hall. Bathroom. Bedroom. Linen closet, long unused. He turned to see Fischer waiting for him. Jed pointed toward the staircase. Fischer nod acknowledgement and Jed raced upwards, two steps at a time.
Once he saw the short, empty hall, he waved for the other deputy to join him in clearing the two rooms up here. Both had dusty floors showing no footprints. Nobody had crawled between the sheets on those beds in decades.
Jed lowered his Glock. Shit, shit, shit. He’d made a bad call when he asked the helicopter to back off.
Or maybe not. At the very least, a cornered Theo Willis would use Linette as a hostage. Worst case, he’d kill her quick. And why not? He was a fucking nutcase who’d come after a woman he hadn’t so much as set eyes on in nearly four years. Besides, he had to know he was wanted for two brutal murders already. Freeing Linette wouldn’t save him from the charges facing him back in Georgia.
“They’re on foot,” he said aloud.
His fellow deputy didn’t comment. The helicopter had hovered near enough to watch for any traffic coming or going from this property. There hadn’t been any. Therefore, if Willis and Linette weren’t in the house or the barn – which Erin Brown and Deputy Numsen were clearing – Willis had to have run, forcing Linette to accompany him.
Downstairs, Jed calmed himself enough to take a careful look around. Food in the refrigerator suggested this was where Theo had been living. The trash can under the sink overflowed with plastic trays from microwave meals, crumpled bags that had held corn chips and the like, and beer cans. In the living room, crushed beer cans were scattered beside the sofa. The dregs of muddy looking coffee in a mug had been left on a scarred end table. Jed glanced up when Fischer flicked on an old television set, expecting static but surprised to see a grainy picture. Local channel. He hadn’t noticed it, but there must be an antennae on the roof. Not likely Theo had subscribed to cable. Probably irrelevant, but it meant he could have followed the news.
Jed walked back through the kitchen, refusing to let himself fixate on the blood. The amount wasn’t life-threatening. Outside, he scanned the woods.
There might be somebody else in the department with tracking skills, but Jed intended to rely on his own. There’d been times he’d tracked an assigned target for days before he could take him out. The dry, gritty soil wasn’t so different than the lands where he’d served.
He drew to a stop, barely acknowledging the two deputies who walked out of the barn shaking their heads. No, damn it – he wasn’t using his head. There was a much faster way to find Theo Willis.
*****
Grant bounded up the granite steps and strolled into the police station. The duty sergeant behind the long counter gave him a startled look. He must know something was happening, if not what.
“Sheriff?”
“Chief Seward expects me.” Grant didn’t ask; he told.
“I…yes, sir.” This was one of the old-timers, arthritis making his knuckles knobby. He made the call, presumably using an internal line, but the phone rang and rang.
Grant got a sudden, sick feeling in his gut. He shouldn’t have called and offered Seward the chance to come to down to the sheriff’s headquarters to talk, not when the man must know he’d be sentenced to what amounted to the rest of his life in prison – and that as a cop, he’d face either solitary confinement or a good chance of a fellow inmate slipping a shiv between his ribs into his heart.
And this was a man with access to a buffet of weapons.
Dawning fear in the desk sergeant’s eyes decided Grant, who shoved open the half door at the end of the counter and ran down the hall.
The office door was locked.
Hammering on it, Grant called, “Seward? Harrison? Open the door. We can talk.”
He recognized the depth of that silence.
Voice shaking, the sergeant said, “I have a key.”
Grant checked his immediate intention of breaking the door in and waited what felt like an eternity but probably wasn’t more
than a minute. Hand shaking, the sergeant handed over a key on a ring along with an identifying tab. Grant inserted the key, turned it and opened the door.
The smell hit him first, and he realized he’d already breathed in the tang. It hadn’t been just the silence that had the hair rising on the back of his neck.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
Gazing at the body slumped in the desk chair, Grant hoped the Oregon State Police Department was having a slow day. His own resources were stretched far enough to snap. Three major crime scenes were more than a department the size of his could handle, especially since they didn’t yet know which FHPD officers were implicated in the cattle rustling.
He needed help, and was hurt further by not being able to call on one of his already too-few deputies. Hindsight being what it was, Grant wished like hell he’d already fired Chris Jarman, although it occurred to him that at least now he knew where to find him. Grant’s jaw tightened. They didn’t yet have useable evidence to convict Jarman, but he was going down along with Theo Willis. Grant only prayed the charge didn’t end up being for the murder of Linette Broussard.
*****
When he heard the rumble of a diesel engine approaching the house, Jed looked up. He had quickly found scuff marks in the soil, but used his diminishing supply of willpower to wait.
Thank God, Dr. Knappe had been at home when Jed called, and had gotten here with startling speed. Since only one deputy was patrolling the county today – assuming that piece of shit, Chris Jarman, wasn’t actually out here somewhere with a plan to aid Theo – the veterinarian had had next to no chance of getting pulled over for speeding.
Lean and dressed in boots, cargo pants and a denim shirt with sleeves rolled up, he jumped out of his truck, his yellow lab following a second later. They came straight toward Jed, who met them halfway.
“I have a second S and R volunteer on her way with her dog, in case we need help,” Knapp said. “Do you have something of the woman’s that will give Snoopy the scent?”