Holding the Truth

by Calle J. Brookes

  Clay didn't know what to say or do, so he did the only thing he could.

  He left.

  Chapter 11

  Kurtland Chase met them at the entrance to his place. He held almost as much of Barratt County as the Barratts did. Kurt's place extended into parts of Finley Creek County as well. Clay shook the man's hand. They'd gone to school together, and while not close friends, Kurt was a good man.

  "Clay, sorry to call you out here this late."

  "It's all part of it. What do you have?"

  "I'm not sure. One of the hands found something. Hell, it could be from a calf, but I don't know. I've never seen a calf bury itself. Not like this. Hope you’re ready to ride. It's an hour ride up."

  Clay nodded. He'd expected as such. "I'll radio in to my deputy. Let her know."

  Kurt’s attention sharpened. "Bailey's back? Glad to hear it. I may stop by and say hello soon."

  "Came back this week. Going to have her take it easy for a while."

  "Good. What her daddy did to her and Kyra Dillon was enough to make a man sick. Bailey's always been a sweetheart."

  "Yeah. A real sweetheart."

  One he couldn't escape.

  ***

  It had been a while since he’d ridden a horse, but Clay had always enjoyed it. If he ever had the time, he’d be buying his own gelding. He could keep it at the Barratt Ranch, now run by one of his cousins. It had been in his mother’s family for almost two hundred years now.

  There would be plenty of room for Clay’s horse.

  It was something for him to think about.

  Once they figured out what Kurt’s ranch hands had found while fixing fences up in the far back reaches of Kurt’s property.

  Every instinct he had told him the bone wasn't a damned calf's. He ordered Jeremy to section off the immediate area. They'd get the forensics team from Finley Creek out as soon as they could.

  A call to the head of the Finley Creek post made it clear that was going to be a problem—it would be at least a day and a half until they had someone out there.

  Chief Marshall had pointed out that Clay had a damned fine deputy who was trained in forensics as well, right there in his own office. For now.

  Marshall was making no secret about his intent to poach Bailey.

  It had made Clay feel like an idiot for not remembering himself. He'd sent Bailey to Finley Creek to get those skills on top of what she'd learned at the TSP Academy in Wichita Falls so he would have someone on hand.

  He’d just gotten used to getting forensics help from the larger Finley Creek post while she’d been gone.

  He could have had someone fill in for her while she was out, but the mere thought of why it was necessary had angered him so much Clay hadn’t been able to put in the request.

  They’d made do.

  She might be an itch under his skin, but she had a mind sharper than anyone else's he'd ever seen. And she was good at the forensics side of things. Better than anyone else he had.

  He needed her now.

  He called her himself.

  Told her to get herself out there to the Chase ranch as quickly as she could, and to bring the forensics equipment.

  Her quiet yes, sir told him all he needed to know.

  Bailey might have been physically there in the office, but the spirit he was used to was nowhere to be found.

  Clay wanted to fix that. To make Bailey Bailey again. Somehow.

  Hell, he just wished he could make everything right again.

  Chapter 12

  She'd always enjoyed the drive to Kurt's ranch. It was beautiful, mostly fields with cattle grazing, but Kurt Chase took care of what he owned.

  He was really nice to a woman, too.

  Before everything with Bailey's father, she'd considered taking him up on his offer to hit the theater in Finley Creek.

  Or the dinner he'd offered at the Barratt.

  Or the picnic at the back of his ranch. He’d been persistent.

  Kurt was nice, funny, attractive, successful, and kind—and he'd shown an interest in her. A real one.

  She should have shown that interest right back.

  Now she couldn't remember why she hadn't. At first, it had shocked her. Then she'd thought he'd just wanted to be friends. Guys like him didn’t usually show her much attention like that.

  She was more the girl-next-door type. Not the kind to attract a man like Kurt Chase.

  Until he'd invited her to the Barratt.

  Why had she turned him down? Because she’d been afraid of it not working out. That had been her biggest fear back then.

  Stupid.

  Now she knew what real fear was.

  If he ever asked again, she was going to take him up on it. Period.

  What would dinner and a movie with a nice man hurt?

  She couldn't spend the rest of her life second-guessing. Not anymore. She needed to get out there and actually live.

  At least that was what Bert and Jake had told her.

  And Margo, her therapist at W4HAV.

  There was a ranch hand waiting for her at the gate, with a sorrel mare already saddled. Bailey grabbed the forensics kit from the rear of the SUV and approached the animal carefully.

  She had ridden before, of course, and knew what to do. And she had no doubt that Kurt Chase's horses could be trusted.

  The man was one of the best horse ranchers in the state. Only Travis Worthington-Deane at the W-Deane ranch was better.

  But Kurt's reputation was growing fast.

  She fastened the forensics bag to the third horse and then mounted the mare. The hand was a guy a few years younger than her, and he waited for her instructions. "Just lead the way. I can ride just fine. Sooner we get up there, the better."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  He tried to talk to her on the hour ride, but Bailey just couldn't. She'd seen the curious looks the ranch hand had sent her.

  She'd been getting those looks since the day she'd stepped out of the Finley Creek hospital.

  Everyone wanted to know the dirty details of what had happened to her. Morbid, macabre, shallow thrill-seekers.

  They didn't realize what memories their curiosity brought up.

  Finally, they crested a small hill, and she saw the small cluster of men.

  Waiting for her.

  Jeremy walked up to her. She stopped the mare near her friend. "What do we have?"

  "That's up to you to decide. How good are you at identifying human remains?" The sheriff was there, reaching up a hand for her to take before Jeremy had made it even a yard toward her.

  Bailey took it, but she did not want to touch him. He helped her dismount, though she didn't need it.

  She didn’t want to make waves in front of the watching eyes. Everyone knew she and Clay didn’t get along. Bailey was tired of giving people a show. She was going to be the curiosity around here until something else happened to get the town talking again.

  She feared what they were doing right now was going to be that something.

  It wasn't often a dead body was found in Barratt County.

  "We got something over here. You'll have to work fast—the light's going soon. And we may be facing a storm."

  "The weather channel is saying we may be facing a significant round of storms tonight and tomorrow." She'd listened to the report on her way over. Storms were a way of life in Texas, and that meant the TSP could be working late hours. She was used to it.

  It just meant more comp time later when things were slow again.

  Things were pretty slow in Value and Barrattville. They covered the entire county until where it butted up against the Barrattville city limits. There was a small Barrattville City Police precinct there that handled most of Barrattville’s calls, at least.

  "Then you'd better work fast," the sheriff said. He turned back to the pack horse and unfastened the bag. "Tell me what to do, and I'll do it. This is your show."

  "I spent two weeks in the ME's office in Finley Creek. We had four
cases of animal remains mistaken for human. The chances are most likely that's what this is." She knew the statistics for murder in this area. Most of the counties like Baylor and Archer, which were both to the north of where they were, had an extremely low murder rate for the population. Thanks to that trouble with her father, Barratt County currently had a higher murder rate than she wanted to talk about.

  If it was human, chances were good it was a drifter who'd run afoul of the elements. They were prone to floods in this part of the county, and storms of all sorts. The heat didn't help, though it wasn't the hottest part of their state at all.

  Mother Nature could have covered a body up pretty quickly out here.

  She listed the equipment she needed. His hands were there right away.

  They made quick work of it. All she needed to do was determine if the bone was human or not. Then see if there were any more remains.

  That could potentially take hours.

  ***

  Clay watched her work. She was good at it. Forensics would be a good fit for her. If she ever left him to go to Finley Creek. Finally, after a good four hours, she stood up. "I have done what I can here, Sheriff. But I'm about eighty percent certain it's not animal. I think it's a human leg bone. And those"—she pointed toward a small pile of fragments she'd carefully unearthed, photographed, and labeled over the last few hours—"are most likely parts of a foot. And toes. I'm sorry. I can't say anything else. I'm not equipped to go any further with this."

  She was kneeling in the dirt near his feet. Clay reached down and grabbed her elbow, helping her up.

  Long blond hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. Blue eyes just stared at him. Clay nodded at her. "Pack it up. Marshall's getting us a full team out here as soon as he can. Tolvert, surprise—you and Ralley are sitting on this one tonight."

  "I can do it," Bailey said. "I'm kind of invested here."

  The idea of her camping out here next to human remains did not sit well with him. "No. Tomorrow when the Finley Creek team is here, I want you fresh and ready to interpret for the rest of us. The damned science is Greek to most of us here. Go home. Get some damned sleep. You look like the wind will blow you over."

  Her hair was pulled back and covered by a hairnet to prevent contaminating the scene. She wore gloves and paper overalls.

  Still, she was his Bailey through and through. Even if she looked like a blond burrito at the moment.

  And the wind was definitely picking up, pressing that white paper against her body.

  "Thanks. You really make a girl feel special, don't you?"

  Only he caught her mumble. He leaned closer so she wouldn’t miss what he had to say in return. "Damn it, Moore. You know what I meant."

  "Sure, boss."

  "Get your kit together. We'll ride out with Chase. I'll leave my SUV for Jeremy. You can give me a ride back into town, then head home."

  "Aye-aye, Captain."

  Clay's head whipped around. He just stared at her.

  That was probably the most sarcasm and hostility he had ever heard in Bailey’s voice in the entire time he’d known her.

  She sighed. "Sorry, Clay. Just feeling a bit overheated tonight. I'll turn the filter back on."

  "You do that." No, don't. Because for the first time all week she was actually showing spirit again. And he wanted to yank her up and hug her for finally coming back.

  Chapter 13

  Kurt rode at her side. Bailey had expected as much. She didn't mind. It meant she didn't have to ride next to the man who obviously did not want her anywhere near him. No surprise.

  Maybe she should give serious thought to Finley Creek? Everyone there was friendly. She'd made quite a few friends there. Her days would be filled with air-conditioned lab experiments and science. Chatter with people she liked.

  Who seemed to like her, too.

  She was good at science. She'd enjoy it.

  It would mean she wasn’t out on the road, but she could probably live with that idea rather well.

  Bailey would miss Jeremy and Jeff and Ralley and the dispatchers.

  And Value. Value was her home, whether she felt like she belonged there or not. Leaving that wasn't something she wanted to consider.

  She could always commute. Value and Finley Creek weren't that far apart. She’d certainly done it before.

  "Bailey?" Kurt said her name quietly. Bailey looked at him. The sun was setting, the clouds making it extremely dark as well. The storm that blew through tonight was going to be a strong one. "You doing ok?"

  "Yes. You?"

  "About the same as always. Glad to see you back. Clay just doesn't look right without you nearby." He shot her a small smile. "You're always far prettier. And less ornery."

  At one time Bailey would have kept up a running conversation with him. She didn't have the energy for that any longer.

  Thankfully, Kurt wasn't the type to push. They rode a while longer, speaking very little. The sheriff rode behind her. Bailey felt as though he was staring at her back the entire time.

  He did that whenever a man talked to her while on the job. Like he expected Bailey to suddenly strip off her green TSP uniform and do a pole dance right there in the midst of the crowd. As if.

  Clay Addy did not trust her to do her job, and he never had. No matter what she decided to do, she would just have to deal with that.

  ***

  Kurt liked her. It was in the way the other man kept at her side and wanted to watch her instead of where his damned horse was going. If Clay didn't have a pile of human bones to identify and all the host of problems that brought with it, he'd get between the two and make it clear what Kurt wanted had no place on TSP time.

  Bailey wasn't encouraging Kurt, but she wasn't putting him off, either. She was speaking so quietly he couldn’t distinguish just what they were saying.

  Clay wanted to ride closer, but refused to let himself act like such an ass.

  It wasn’t any of his business if Kurt Chase had a thing for Bailey. Or if she had one for the other man.

  They reached the SUVs, and Kurt was the first one off his horse.

  Clay watched as the Kurt helped Bailey down without hesitation. Her little hands flexed on Kurt's forearms, and she smiled as the big man swung her down. Like she was helpless.

  Hell, Clay had seen her mount and dismount a hundred times.

  She hadn't needed any damned help from Kurtland Chase. Nor did she need the rancher carrying her equipment.

  Or walking her to her damned SUV—well, the department's SUV.

  Clay dismounted and handed the reins over to the ranch hand that had been waiting.

  He caught up with his deputy just as she agreed to go with that damned Kurt to dinner at the Barratt, of all places.

  What was she thinking?

  She shouldn’t be making dates on company time. That way could lay real trouble.

  He kept his thoughts to himself until they were halfway back to the department. "You got a thing going on with Chase?"

  "And if I do? It doesn't have anything to do with the TSP."

  In other words, none of Clay's business. "No, it doesn't. But Kurt's a friend of mine."

  "So? So is Jake, but his love life isn't any of your business. Unless it's case related."

  "Maybe this is. Bones were found on Kurt's land." It was weak, and he knew it. He would have someone look into all the hands on the place and everyone who had access to that part of the property, but he didn't think Kurt was involved.

  "So? He owns a third of the county. Odds aren't that surprising."

  She had a point. Anywhere in this county was going to be owned basically by a handful of ranchers—including most of Clay’s own cousins.

  Kurt hadn't always had as much land as he had; the man had been buying up what he could practically since high school. He was a hard worker.

  Why should Clay care if Kurt Chase took Bailey to the Barratt and kept her there for a damned week?

  It really wasn't any of his business.
/>
  "Why are you getting so defensive? I’m just asking questions. Wanting you to be careful."

  "Looking after your buddies?"

  There was a snarl there he definitely hadn't anticipated.

  "I don't know why you're so hostile." Clay knew he was probably being an ass. Hell, he was jealous. He hadn't once made her smile the way Kurt Chase had.

  "Kurt's asked me out before. Lots of times before, actually. This time I said yes. That's nothing you need to worry about. But if it makes you feel better, I can make him promise he didn't kill someone and bury them on his property. Besides, those bones looked too old. Kurt’s only owned this land for about three years, he said."

  His attention shifted from Kurtland Chase back to the purpose for them being out there in the first place. Where it should have been to begin with.

  "How so?"

  "They felt a bit slimy. But not enough. And there wasn't too much of an odor. I think they had been there a while. There was this woman who was killed in the 1920s. Her body resurfaced while I was interning in Finley Creek. Her bones were dry and almost flakey. There was also one that had been dead ten years. It had a bit more, for lack of a better word, gunk on it. I'm not sure how the elements would have worked on this one, but...I don't think that's a new body. But I don't think it's one hundred years old, either."

  "And you don't think Kurt had anything to do with it? Why, because he offered you dinner?" Dinner, roses, a night at the most expensive hotel in the area. Kurt could afford to show her a real good time. And why not? Bailey definitely deserved it.

  Hell, Clay could take her to the Barratt anytime she wanted to go. He owned three percent of it, after all.

  The thought of taking Bailey there had snuck into his drams a million nights before.

  She deserved a good man who cared about her. That wasn’t going to be an asshole like him.

  "Damn, you really are an ass, aren't you? Kyra said you could be a real butt sometimes." Her small hands tightened on the wheel. He watched her take in a breath. She started the engine, then looked at him. "Kurt is a friend. He wants to be more. And I’m considering it. That's all you need to know. If that ever changes I'll let you know. To put on my HR records. That’s all."