"Like trying to kill you again?" she said.
"Wasn't Silken and not on his orders. I believe it was a setup, pure and simple. Someone trying to throw the blame on Krantz and Silken by association. It was Krantz's usual off-duty day, but the lieutenant called him in to work at the last minute because of staffing."
"Hence, he has a perfect alibi."
"That he does. And his wife noticed the Suburban was stolen and reported it early. The frame-up didn't work."
"However, the killing almost did." Sophia started the truck.
"You're right. My head hurts." He patted the bandage on the side of his head. "I want to stop by the station next."
"No, dear. You're going home. It's time. We can sign papers and get the lights another day."
"But. . ."
Sophia glared at him, popped the Ram into reverse, and backed into the street. "Going home."
After about three minutes, Ray said, "You're off tomorrow. Right?"
"Yes."
"I'd like you to drive out and visit Kelly Ann Vast."
"I can do that," Sophia said. "Why?"
"You have a good rapport with her. I'm convinced LeRoy is hiding, hurt, and in danger. Find out where he is."
Chapter 31
Sophia
Sophia slipped out of bed on Sunday, making a special effort not to disturb Ray. It was his habit to be up early, and most of the time she'd find him reading at the kitchen table, having already taken Mischief for a walk. But he'd had a restless night, complaining of both headache and leg pain. She'd checked his pupils and balance—which was iffy—then decided he'd done too much during the day.
After starting coffee, she released Mischief from her crate and went for a walk. When she returned, Ray was in the kitchen sipping from his extra-large mug. He looked pale and in pain. His hair needed combing and his goatee needed a trim.
"How do you feel?"
"Run over by a truck."
She exhaled in a huff. "What did you expect? You ignored doctor's orders. You should have come right home."
"I had things to do." The edge in his voice conveyed both annoyance and frustration.
"Right. Think you'll be able to do them if you're back in the hospital?"
He extended his arms, inviting a hug. "Let's not fight. It makes my head hurt."
She moved into his embrace. "I think you need to stay put for a couple of days and rest. There is nothing to be gained by rushing back to work."
"Maybe so. I'll tell you what. I'll rest today, while you track down Kelly Ann. I don't foresee you getting into much trouble. Then, we'll decide about tomorrow, tomorrow."
Sophia nodded. It was a compromise of sorts, but she hadn't expected him to lay low for very long. Once she left the house on Monday morning, he'd go to work anyway.
They ate scrambled eggs and English muffins for breakfast and talked about her plans for the day.
"The first thing I have to do is call the hospital and see if the baby has been discharged," Sophia said. "I checked on her Friday, and the nursery told me she was about ready to go home. I also learned that Kelly Ann's mother spent most of every day at the hospital with the baby."
Sophia called the hospital and discovered that baby Vast had been discharged the previous evening. The babe's mother, grandmother, and grandfather had picked her up.
"I'll bet they've left the friend's house and gone back to the mother's house in Lebanon, which is this side of Nashville, I think."
"It is." Ray scowled. "I don't think that will keep Krantz and whoever else is after LeRoy out of her hair. Seems a simple matter to find her."
"Kelly Ann told me she grew up on a farm north of Lebanon. But, she also said her mother remarried after Kelly Ann left home and now lived in another place. New name, new farm."
"Sweetheart," Ray said in a tolerant tone of voice, "don't ever think Krantz is dumb. Misguided perhaps, rogue possibly, stupid no."
"Can't you guys do something about him? I mean really." She rolled her eyes.
"First we would have to prove he's done something wrong. Visiting his uncle and showing up at raids isn't illegal."
"How about threatening Kelly Ann?"
"Her word—and that's the word of the wife of a meth producer—against his. He's allowed to visit his aunt and his uncle for that matter. If people in the police and Sheriff's Department were expelled because of their relatives' behavior, we'd have no one in law enforcement. Me included, I might add."
Sophia laughed. Point taken. "So, how do I find Kelly Ann?"
"Try the cell number she gave you to give me."
"Duh." Sophia did, and had Kelly Ann on the phone a moment later. "Kelly Ann, I'd like to come over and talk to you, if I may."
"What about?"
"We shouldn't discuss it on the phone. My fiancé suggested I come to you. Did you know he was run off the road the other day?"
"I saw it in the Crestville paper. Was it Krantz's doing?"
"Not directly, no. Where are you? I'll take a road trip, and it will give me a chance to meet Keri Lynn, too."
"Hang on a minute." There were voices in the background, then Kelly Ann came back on the line. "This is the address." She gave the address and general directions. "Call me before you turn up the drive. My stepfather has a couple of things set up to deter intruders. Plan to get here in late afternoon. They're going to church, then they have a lunch thing. I want them here."
"Okay." Sophia thought for a moment. "I'll leave here about three o'clock. I guess it'll take me about an hour and a half to get there."
"Probably two. Come alone or you won't get on the property," Kelly Ann said, then hung up without saying goodbye.
Sophia repeated the conversation to Ray.
"I'm having second thoughts about sending you alone."
"You have no choice."
"I could ask Johnson to go with you."
"If I show up with a cop, that'll be a huge breach of trust—what little she has."
Ray looked thoughtful. "I suppose, you're right. She would never have told me where she is. Make sure you take your weapon."
"Of course."
Several hours later, Sophia grabbed her purse, showed Ray the gun stowed inside, then kissed him and patted Mischief goodbye.
Ten minutes after that, she rolled onto I-40, headed west to Lebanon. Traffic was light, and she zipped along, admiring the pines and oaks, which shimmered in the sunlight. The drive to the Lebanon exit took an hour. Then the GPS gave three wrong turns and led her into a dead end. She laughed at the sign that read GPS Wrong, No Outlet, cursed under her breath, and turned around. After stopping and asking directions at a service station, she found the address, having extended her travel time by an exhausting hour.
The location was a ranch, with a fancy, dark-stained, four-rail fence bordering the property. The fence seemed to go on forever, turning the corner and continuing along the intersecting road. She pulled over and called Kelly Ann as directed, receiving a go-ahead to enter the property.
Sophia slowed and drove until she found the entrance, then made her way to the two-story, brick farmhouse, parking in the circular driveway in front of the door.
Kelly Ann appeared and greeted her. "Hi, Sophia."
"Sorry I'm late. I had quite the GPS guided tour, but it was hard to miss the place once I found the right road." She waved her hand at the expanse of land. Black Angus cattle dotted the pastures on both sides. Three horses stood in a paddock behind the house. Barns and outbuildings sat toward the back. Sophia noted other smaller houses within the fencing. Employees or family? she wondered.
"My stepfather—his name is Warren—done well. Oops, my stepfather has done well. Mama wants me to talk some better. To talk better."
"You're looking good," Sophia said. Kelly Ann appeared well-groomed and healthy. Her jeans and overblouse looked new and fit her post-baby chubbiness. Sophia imagined she was normally slender. The most striking difference was Kelly Ann's hair was washed, cut, and colored, and
light makeup concealed the trace of pock marks from teenage acne along her jaw.
"Come inside." Kelly Ann stepped away from the door and disappeared into the next room, reappearing a moment later with the baby in her arms.
Sophia glanced around the home. It looked comfortable with wood floors, leather sofas, and heavy wooden tables. Then she raised her arms and accepted the baby from Kelly Ann.
"She's beautiful. I can see she's gaining weight."
"Mama took breast milk to the hospital every day. Now that she's here, she's taken to the breast like one of Warren's piglets."
Sophia laughed.
Kelly Ann led the way to the living room and sat in a worn-looking recliner.
Sophia followed, baby in arms, selecting the chair next to Kelly Ann. "What are your plans, may I ask?"
"I don't know for sure. I can stay here for now, forever, Warren says."
"What about LeRoy?"
"He's still alive."
"That's why I'm here. Ray needs to track him down and get his side of the story."
"Will he arrest him?"
"I suppose he will, but he'll also make sure he gets medical attention. At the moment, the police don't know if LeRoy is an arsonist or a victim."
"LeRoy isn't a killer. All he did was cook the meth and deliver it to Silken. He's hurt bad."
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"Yesterday. Warren drived me there. Drove."
"And?"
"LeRoy's arm is infected. It looked green to me. We changed the dressing and left him with plenty of food and water."
"Kelly Ann, LeRoy will die of gangrene and infection if he doesn't get medical treatment. Tell me where he is, and Ray will see he gets care."
Warren and Ella Hogarth stepped in from a side room.
"Honey," Ella said, "tell her. You don't want your child's father to die. It'll be okay in the end."
"And when LeRoy gets released from prison, we'll help him get a fresh start, too," Warren said.
Chapter 32
Ray
Ray awoke when he heard Sophia return from Lebanon late Sunday afternoon. Mischief, who had been nestled in the crook of his arm, jumped off the bed. Though Ray's dizziness had passed a couple of hours earlier, he still felt out of sorts. He hoped he didn't have to retrieve Vast right away.
"Hey, sweetheart," he said when she entered the room, "what did you learn?"
She grinned. "I learned Kelly Ann Vast has a beautiful baby, wonderful parents, and she isn't as dumb as she acts."
"Nice to know. Did she tell you where her husband is?"
"She did. He's hiding in a cabin a couple of miles past the main house on a friend's property." She held up a slip of paper with the address. "She saw him yesterday, and he looked awful. The arm is infected, and he was feverish."
"Charming." Ray moved the dog, then sat on the side of the bed. His head didn't spin. "What's he doing for it?"
"Kelly Ann and her stepfather took him dressings, antibiotic ointment, and food. From her description, he's fading." She went on to relay the remainder of the details she'd learned at the farm, including the fact Kelly Ann's stepfather would visit Vast, who is armed by the way, at his hideout in the morning.
Ray grabbed his phone and called Johnson. "Vast is hiding in a cabin behind the house Fred Jones owns out on Dripping Springs."
Johnson said, "You want to head out there tonight?" Ray heard the sounds of a baseball game in the background.
"No, tomorrow. Kelly Ann thinks LeRoy isn't thinking clearly. The stepfather will pave the way for a peaceful surrender."
"Here's hopes," Johnson said. "I'll pick you up at eight." Ray disconnected the call and stood. "How about I help you get dinner ready? I need to do something. I just can't stay in bed."
"Point taken. I started the chicken and dumplings before I took my field trip. You can take Mischief for a little walk around the yard and then make a salad—if you want."
"I want." He stood, verified his balance was intact, then slipped on his shoes. "Come on, puppy. Time to go out."
Sophia watched as he crossed the room. "Your gait is normal. That's good. How do you feel?"
"Not bad, now that I'm off the bed. By tomorrow, I should be good to go out and get the son of a bitch."
***
Steady, light rain fell, cooling the July morning. Ray stood outside their little house on the covered porch waiting for Johnson. He wore a baseball cap to cover the small bandage on his head and a reinforced dressing Sophia had provided on his leg. Still, he hoped they didn't have to hike to the cabin.
After they were underway, Ray said, "I think we should play this low key. If Sophia is right, Vast will be expecting us and, hopefully, be ready to end this."
Johnson took the long, rutted road to the Jones's house at a slow speed. He avoided the bumps, kept out of the larger puddles, and didn't bottom out his patrol vehicle. The gravel proved to be thick and the mud minimal. The rain, however, was a downpour.
The house, atypical for the neighborhood, was a modern log cabin with a wrap-around porch and several matching outbuildings. The land beyond the house opened into a pasture for a small herd of cattle. A field of corn flanked one side of the pasture and, what looked like bean plants, hugged the other side.
Fred Jones stepped through the front door, coffee cup in hand. "Busy place today. I reckon you're here to visit the cabin."
"Yes, sir." Johnson exited the car and approached the man. Rain pounded his hat and cascaded down the back of his department-issued slicker.
Ray rolled down the window to hear the conversation.
"Detective Stone—" he motioned to Ray, "and I are here for LeRoy."
Jones nodded. "That's what Warren said when he was here an hour or so ago."
"You know Warren Hogarth?" Johnson said.
"I do at that. We served in the Army together many years ago, but we've kept in touch. I offered the cabin until they could figure out what to do with the kid."
The explanation answered several questions. Ray thought for a moment about the numerous laws the man broke and the possibility of pressing charges. Then, he shoved the notion aside. Go along to get along.
"Can I get to the cabin in the vehicle?"
"No, Jim, you can't, especially in the rain. The road isn't anything more than a mud trail now. I'll take you and the detective in my Land Rover." He stepped off the porch and approached Ray's open window. "I heard you were forced off the road, Detective. I'm glad to see you're okay."
"Coming along." He slid out of the car and turned his collar up against the rain. A wave of dizziness overtook him, and he grabbed the roof of the car for support. After the spell passed, he offered his hand to Jones. "Thank you for assisting us."
"It's the right thing to do." He headed in the direction of an outbuilding that looked like a freestanding garage.
"You sure you're okay for this?" Johnson said. "I saw you almost keel over a moment ago. I can call for a sheriff's deputy to help."
"I'm fine. Let's get to it."
Ray and Johnson sloshed through the mud, following the path Jones had taken, and soon they were in the Land Rover—Ray riding shotgun and Johnson in the back seat—bouncing over the raw terrain to the left of the house. After a few hundred yards, Jones turned toward the back of the property and found a well-worn trail, just wide enough for the Land Rover.
Jones maneuvered the vehicle with expertise, keeping its tires on the grassy hump in the center of the trail and the leaf-covered edge to the right until he slipped off and into the mud-filled ruts.
"Damn," Jones said.
The rain grew heavier, sheeting off the windshield and hood of the Land Rover.
Jones backed a few feet, then eased forward. The vehicle dug further into the muck. A front tire found solid ground, and Jones eased back onto the elevations in the center and on the side of the trail.
"Close one," Ray said.
"Even with the four-wheel drive, I've gotten stuck out here.
Today we were lucky."
Several minutes later, Jones stopped in front of a weathered, though solid-looking, log cabin. "Wife and I lived here while the house was being built. At the time, there was a decent driveway, but I covered it with crops. I planned to let the old place fall apart, but it's sturdier than I thought."
Ray felt as if he'd stepped about one hundred and fifty years back. The cabin was in decent repair and had pristine window frames. Otherwise, it all looked original.
"I'll wait here." Jones settled in his seat. "Oh, there's a back door, by the way."
"Thanks." Ray climbed out and pulled up the collar of his windbreaker. Rain pelleted him in the face. He waded through ankle-deep mud to the half-open door, standing on the porch and to the side of the door frame. "No time like the present." He motioned to Johnson to head to the right.
Johnson made his way around to the back of the cabin.
Ray unsnapped his holster strap and rested his hand on the butt of his Glock. He knocked on the doorjamb. "Police. Vast, are you in there?"
A weak male voice responded. "Come in, Detective. I've been expecting you."
Ray found Vast propped against a pillow on one of the two single beds in the one-room cabin. The bandages on his left hand were clean and intact, though applied without obvious skill. His rifle lay close, but Vast made no move to grab it. A wood stove, dry sink, and fireplace occupied the far wall. Several boxes of ready-to-eat foods filled the middle of a small table. A couple packages were open, though there were no visible plates or utensils.
Ray approached Vast, moved the gun out of reach, then secured his own weapon. "Johnson, come in," he said in a loud voice, then softer, "LeRoy, you're under arrest for manufacturing and distributing methamphetamine."
Vast nodded, then closed his eyes.
Johnson moved to Ray's side.
"Johnson, read him his rights. Vast open your eyes."
Vast mumbled, "Yes, sir."
When Johnson finished, Ray stepped closer to the bed. "The first thing we're going to do is haul you into the hospital. I think we'll do that in Jones' Land Rover and Johnson's patrol vehicle, if you think you can handle the ride. It'll be faster than calling an ambulance."
"Ah hell, man. No ambulance could get here anyway." Vast closed his eyes and appeared to drift off for a moment. "A police car is fine. I've lasted this long. I'll last another hour."
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