Holding the Truth

by Calle J. Brookes

  But Bailey thought it would be a good fit now. She’d get out there and make a life for herself that didn’t have the baggage of the past associated with it.

  And whatever happened between her and Clay after that—it wouldn’t be on TSP time. If it happened at all.

  She might find that once she got to Finley Creek she’d forget about him and how he’d confused her.

  They’d shared a handful of hot kisses. That was it. But it was enough to have everything sideways. She wasn’t running from that. She was taking control so that she could meet it head on.

  Could meet Clay on a level playing field. The way she needed to.

  “Whatever you decide, I’m behind you one hundred percent. Whether that’s with Marshall or staying with me.”

  She sensed he meant it.

  A far cry from where they’d been a few weeks ago.

  “Thank you, Clay. I mean that.”

  The nerves she’d always felt when alone with him were long gone now. She didn’t recall when that had happened.

  They fell into a long silence, Bailey thinking about what the future would hold for her. It wouldn’t be too much of a change in her schedule. Instead of turning left to go south into Value each day, she’d turn right and drive straight up into Finley Creek. It would be a difference of seven miles.

  That was if she stayed at Bert and Jake’s. She could always get an apartment in Finley Creek when the time was right.

  She was only twenty-six. There was a lot she could do in her future.

  Because she had one and she was finally clear on what she wanted from it.

  Even before what had happened to her in April she hadn’t been happy in what she was doing. She’d been existing. For so long she’d thought she’d wanted to work patrol. Like her father had. So she could figure him out, find out why he had made the choices he had.

  But she had to stop living for the past. Trying to understand it.

  Her father’s choices were his choices. His failings were his own. Nothing she had ever done had caused what he had become.

  Funny that she hadn’t ever seen that before.

  She wasn’t going to erase the specter that her father and corrupt TSP officials had left on the TSP. She wasn’t going to be able to do it. No matter how great of a deputy she became. She couldn’t.

  It wasn’t her job to be the eraser of her father’s mistakes. Or anyone else’s except her own.

  But she could build her own career as a part of who she was. Bailey Jane Moore.

  For the first time in months, Bailey felt like she’d finally gotten a handle on how things were going to be again.

  Not should be. Bailey hated the word should. It led to so many wrong expectations.

  Her father should have been ethical and honest. Her father should have protected her. Her father should have loved her.

  Clay should make up his mind about how he felt about her. Clay should do something about it.

  Bailey should make her own choices. And she was going to. And she was going to erase should from her vocabulary and just put would in its place for her own life.

  And not worry about anyone else’s shoulds.

  Not even Clay’s.

  “I’m going, Clay. It’s the right decision and it’s what I want to do. But...that doesn’t mean you have to stay away from Jake and Bert. From me. We both know there’s some kind of heat between us. If you want to figure it out, then we meet in the middle. Equal playing ground. The TSP won’t factor into it, even for a moment. Just you and me.”

  She would have said more, but the radio started blaring a warning.

  All discussion about personal business was immediately ended.

  It was time for them to be the TSP again.

  “The National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for the following portions of Barratt and Finley Creek counties. Barrattville, Value, Finley Creek...”

  Bailey’s attention immediately turned toward the sky.

  “There are confirmed funnel clouds spotted in the area, with damage reported. Please take appropriate shelter immediately.”

  That’s when Bailey saw it in the distance several miles away.

  It was a monster unlike anything she’d ever seen outside of a television special on the Weather Channel. “Clay!”

  “I see it!”

  Chapter 103

  Clay floored it. They had to outrun it. The roar of the wind tripled. It was coming up behind them. Gusts pushed the Tahoe hard. Bailey called out, but he didn’t look at her.

  His curses disappeared into the roar.

  “It’s going north!” Bailey yelled.

  Clay slammed the accelerator to the floor. “There’s a road ahead!”

  It led to a little unincorporated town five miles south of where they were.

  He had twenty-two residents living out there in a twenty-something square mile radius.

  But it was in the opposite direction from the storm. The Tahoe had just crossed through the intersection and over the bridge that crossed another tributary of Finley Creek when the wind won.

  Something slammed into Clay’s side, hitting the rear of the vehicle behind him.

  Before he could do anything but jerk the wheel to the right, the Tahoe slammed onto its side.

  Onto Bailey’s side.

  And skidded across the wet road before finally stopping in the ditch between the road and the river.

  Clay jerked his seatbelt open, calling her name.

  ***

  Bailey heard him, but it took her a moment to focus. She’d closed her eyes when the SUV had tilted. Her door was crumbled in, and the windshield in front of her had shattered. Her leg compartment was now half the size it had been just a few moments before.

  And her right leg felt like it was on fire. But she was in one piece. “I’m ok, I think. We need to get out of here and away from the storm.”

  “Thank God, honey...I...”

  They were shouting, the wind still roaring around them. They had to get out of the Tahoe before the storm picked them up and tossed them like a bouncy ball again. Bailey pulled her seatbelt, but it was jammed. “Clay! My seatbelt’s stuck!”

  He cursed and pulled his knife free. In quick moments, she was free. Clay grabbed the flashlight from where he always kept it secure so that it didn’t hit anyone in the head in these very kinds of incidents and used the back end of it to knock out the windshield.

  “Go!” she yelled at him. He had a greater field of movement than she did at the moment. She needed him out of her way before she could pull herself out.

  He climbed out into the rain, then reached back in to pull her out.

  Chapter 104

  He was holding her. Veri knew it when the dust settled. They were both shaking, and she wasn’t certain who had done the screaming. But they were alive, for now at least.

  Her home was gone. She couldn’t see a damned thing, either. The stairs above them had protected them from the worst of the debris that had caved in around them, but someone was going to have to get them out of there. Somehow.

  But they were going to be stuck in this place for a while. She refused to let herself think of who might be hurt out there. Her hope was that the storm had missed Value. She lived out of town, and it was possible that the storm hadn’t hurt anyone she loved. Or even anyone she liked or disliked, for that matter.

  “Bert...how long can we stay down here?”

  “Honestly? Three days without water, three weeks without food. But I don’t think it’ll take that long for my kids to come looking for me. Or Bailey and Clay for you.”

  “There’s water there behind the stairs. I always keep jugs of water down here under the stairs. Just in case.” She was shivering, but the basement was warm. Veri knew what shock was.

  And she had no doubt she was going into it now.

  The only thing she could do was focus on the man next to her. She couldn’t see him well—there was no light in their little cave.

  And her
phone was upstairs. Somewhere.

  Like her cat. Sacha would be up there somewhere. Unless she had been in the basement. “My cat. Sacha.”

  She felt Bert’s hesitation. “Honey, I don’t know. It’s going to be hard to tell. But we’ll find out when we get out of here. I’ll help you find her.”

  “My house...” Tears threatened to choke her. Her house...her biggest dream as a child had been to have a house she could call her own instead of shuffling around from rental place to rental place.

  She’d bought the bungalow when she’d been twenty-eight years old. She’d lived in it for twenty-five years. If anything was a reflection of who she was, this little house had been it. She’d painted the walls so many times, changed the carpets and curtains. Made it hers. And now it was gone.

  Everything was destroyed.

  The tears slipped free, the sobs. Until Bert’s hands went around her and she found herself on his lap. His fingers wove through her hair and he pulled her head to his chest. He rocked her, big and strong and silent.

  Until she took a breath again. “Bert?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “What am I going to do now?”

  “You survive. When hell hits, all you can do is survive. And get through. There’s always a tunnel to the other side. I promise.”

  Survive.

  Veri had no other choice.

  Chapter 105

  Clay stared at her through the rain. Her clothes were plastered to her body, showing every curve she had. She was alive. For a moment, he hadn't thought she was. When he’d looked over to her seat and seen how damaged her side of the Tahoe was, he had stopped breathing. "Bailey..."

  Clay reached for her. Thunder and wind howled around them. It was all that kept him from yanking her into his arms and showing her exactly how he felt. "Come on. We need to get to shelter."

  The tornado was still visible in the distance. It could shift and come right at them again at any moment.

  "Where? There's nothing out here for miles." Her fingers tightened on his shirt. "We could be walking for hours. In this."

  "I know." He was hoping it wouldn't come to that. There had to be a structure somewhere between where they were and Value. He thought the edge of the Barratt Ranch was a few miles away. But that still left a vast expanse of land they'd have to travel.

  In one hell of a storm. They didn't have much other option.

  Barratt County was prone to flooding. Not only did they have to watch for the storm itself, but the flooding could be just as deadly.

  They weren't TSP right now. They had to be more concerned with their own survival for a while.

  He grabbed Bailey by the hand. Both because he wanted to touch her and needed that connection—and she was limping. He’d carry her if he had to.

  The wind battered them. The rain washed the mud from their clothes. There were downed trees in the road they had to navigate around.

  Bailey was limping.

  But they kept going.

  "Where are we?" Bailey asked.

  "Near the Barratt Ranch, I think. There should be supply cabins along here somewhere. At least, that's what I remember. I didn't spend much time out here as a kid. My mother...was not overly close with the rest of the Barratts."

  They didn't speak for another few minutes. Just kept walking. Until she pulled on his hand. "I have to stop for a minute."

  Lightning cracked the sky, illuminating her face. The pain on her face told its own story. Clay scooped her up. "No, you don't. I'll carry you."

  He expected her to fight, to argue. Bailey argued everything with him. But she didn't. One skinny arm slipped behind his neck. Her sopping-wet blond head landed on his shoulder. He felt the shudder go through her.

  Clay just kept walking.

  There was bound to be shelter for them somewhere. Until he found it, he would just hold her close and keep going.

  An hour of carrying her later, and Clay wasn't so certain.

  "Put me down. I'll walk for a while."

  "I've got you, Bailey. I'm not putting you down until we get to where we're going." He didn't know what would be faster, her walking or him carrying her. The storm had switched to just rain for now. He wasn't stupid. Another storm could damn well be coming up behind the one that had probably destroyed anything in its path.

  He pushed aside concern for the people he knew and loved in Value and Finley Creek.

  He couldn't help any of them now. And it wouldn't do him and Bailey any good to be worrying about things that couldn’t be fixed or prevented.

  Not yet.

  When they found shelter, would be soon enough. Maybe by then they'd have cell signal.

  She squirmed. “Put me down. You can’t carry me forever.”

  Clay reluctantly set her on her feet. An hour carrying her had left his arms tired. He would have kept going, if he’d had to. “The first instant your leg starts hurting again, I’m carrying you, honey.”

  “You’ll end up hurting yourself. Then what?”

  Clay took her by the hand. It was getting even darker, and he didn’t want to lose her in the night. “We need to keep going.”

  “We’re just going nowhere.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe we’ll find shelter somewhere soon.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  They kept walking.

  Until he saw it. Metal. In the distance. “Come on. There’s a house up ahead.”

  ***

  Clay had his flashlight, and Bailey waited while he looked around the old homestead. The place had to have been built in the mid-1800s. It was bigger than it had looked when they'd first come up on it. Two stories, but dilapidated.

  The wind could blow it over on them at any moment. It may have only been her imagination, but Bailey thought the house listed to one side. And that might have been a ghost in the upstairs window. If she was being a big wimp, anyway. "What is this place?"

  "I think we may still be in Finley Creek County now. This may be the old Wharton place. I've seen it once or twice. Family legend has it that an ancestor was kidnapped and brought here before her lover rescued her." He shouldered open the door, then stepped aside. "After you, my dear."

  "Of course. Send in the deputy first. I'm the sacrificial victim. This place is probably haunted.” She wouldn’t let him see that this place really did creep her out. She was tougher than that.

  But in the dark like this, with the storm welling up behind them again...yeah, Bailey was a big wimp. And she’d probably always be afraid of the dark.

  "If you'd like, I could go first. But if the floor collapses, you'll have to pull me out all by yourself."

  Bailey stepped into the old house.

  It had obviously been abandoned. Probably sometime back in the seventies, if the decor was anything to go on.

  But it was dry.

  And the floor only sank a little when she stepped on it. "What if there are snakes in here?"

  "Big, brave Deputy Bailey afraid of snakes?" He was practically on her heels. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe. Anything that happens here will be our little secret. I promise."

  Bailey shivered.

  There had been something suggestive in his tone. They both knew exactly what he meant. For the first time, it occurred to her that she was going to be alone, most likely all night, with the man next to her.

  She might have made a decision for her professional future, but her personal life was still in a period of uncertainty.

  His fault; she’d put the blame for that exactly where it was due. On those broad shoulders.

  There was an old wooden rocker in the first room they entered. Clay grabbed it for her. "Head to the center of the place. Away from any windows."

  Bailey understood. The wind was continuing to howl. They wouldn't have any way of knowing what the weather was bringing until it hit.

  A second tornado wasn't out of the realm of possibility. "Is there electricity?"

  "I don't know." Clay stepped over tow
ard the wall near where he'd set the first chair. He flicked the switch. "Hey, look at that."

  Bailey took a good look around. "Someone still comes here."

  "Very little dust. If it was abandoned, there'd be inches of dust and dirt. And no electricity." Clay's voice was quiet. "Yet someone is not living here."

  "Something's going on here, though." He had his gun. She had hers. Bailey swallowed. She hoped they hadn't walked out of the fire and into the frying pan here. There could be a squatter somewhere on the premises, but that didn’t explain the electricity.

  He nodded. "Let's just take a look around really quick."

  Bailey reached for her holster. Her TSP-issue handgun was right there.

  They spent ten minutes searching the house. When they entered the laundry room at the rear, she pulled up.

  "Governor Deane's missing Opal Joy," she said, almost in awe. She heard there were still possible shipments of the deadly, addictive drug on the streets somewhere. Fourteen boxes with little green-and-white packets inside were stacked neatly next to the back door. "I wasn't certain it existed."

  "Oh, it exists. I took part in the second raid, at Claireson Pharm. The first stockpile was found in Garrity. I thought Deane had said they’d found all of it. This will be news to him. Don't touch anything. We'll call this in when we get signal again." Clay was grim. "Whoever has been using this place to cook this will have left evidence behind."

  "We need to stop contaminating the scene." She was far too familiar with what had happened at Claireson Pharm. She hadn’t taken part in the raid where the owner’s body had been found, but one of her friends from W4HAV had been there when the owner had been murdered. Had almost been killed herself.

  That friend was now the governor’s wife. Talk was Governor Deane was taking the retrieval of all Opal Joy very, very personally.

  "We've now been in every room. It’s too late for that. Good news is, I don’t think anyone will be coming here tonight. Not in this storm."

  "But we haven't touch much. Just doors and a few things." Bailey mentally retraced their movements from a forensics perspective. They should be ok. They hadn’t touched much. They’d just have to make certain that any elimination samples from her and Clay were well-documented. And that they did their best to not do any more damage to the scene.