by Lisa Harris
Will laughed, then shook his head. “I think I’ll stick to working on the ranch.”
Back inside the station, Jonas had already come up with a name.
“It’s a rental car,” he said. “Rented to a Ryan Phelps. The rental place gave a local address where he is staying.”
“Who is he?”
“A tourist, up here in a cabin with his family for a week. We’ve tried calling his cell several times, but no one answers.”
“We need to go see if he’s there, or if his family has heard from him.”
Jonas nodded. “I already have a car arranged for us. We’re also working to get his phone records, in case Barrick used his phone to make a call.”
In most cases, they were able to have records released from phone companies if they had evidence that the owner was in danger. And as far as she was concerned, Ryan Phelps’s life was in danger.
Fifteen minutes later, they’d pulled into the driveway of a quaint log cabin that was set back off the road and nestled among the trees.
“I’m not usually the jealous type,” Madison said, as they walked toward the front door, “but if I ever happen to get stranded in the woods again, I wouldn’t mind something like this.”
Madison held up her badge when the door opened, then introduced herself and Jonas to the woman standing there. “Are you Katy Phelps?”
The woman nodded, a look of worry crossing her face.
“We’re sorry to bother you,” Jonas said, “but we’re trying to locate your husband. Ryan Phelps.”
She tugged at the end of her ponytail. “Is something wrong?”
“We’re not sure at this point. That’s why we’re here.”
The squeals of kids playing got louder as one of the children ran through the entryway, flying a LEGO plane.
She glanced back into the house. “Can we talk out on the porch?”
“Of course.”
Madison took a step back, making room for the woman, who shut the front door behind her.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she asked.
Madison glanced at Jonas. “Why do you say that?”
“My husband was supposed to be back two hours ago. He’s never late like this. And now two marshals show up on my doorstep. What am I supposed to think?”
“We honestly don’t know where your husband is at this time, but we do need to ask you a couple questions.”
The front door flung open, and a girl around fourteen stumbled out with a scowl on her face. “Mom, the twins are driving me crazy. Will you please make them stop?”
“I’ll be there in just a minute, Krissy.”
The young woman stopped short. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. But if you’ll get the twins washed up, we’ll eat in a minute.”
“Mom—”
“Just do as you’re told.” Mrs. Phelps waited for the door to shut, then turned back to the marshals. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.”
“What do you need to know?”
“Was your husband driving a gray Ford rental car?”
“Yes.”
“Ma’am.” Jonas hesitated for moment. “We have reason to believe that your husband’s life is in danger.”
Color drained from Katy’s face. “What do you mean?”
Madison let out a sharp breath, hating this part of the job. “We’re searching for an escaped felon, and we think it’s possible your husband picked him up.”
“No. That’s not possible. My husband doesn’t pick up hitchhikers. He never has.”
“We aren’t sure what compelled your husband to pick him up this time, but we do have a witness who says he did.”
“No.” The woman shook her head. “There must be some mistake. You’re telling me my husband picked up a felon and is now missing?” She pulled her phone from her pocket, swiped it on, then placed a call. “Pick up . . . pick up . . .” Katy’s eyes widened in fear. “He’s not answering. Why would he not answer?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Madison said.
“Can you track his phone?”
“We’re working on that right now as well, but his phone has been off.”
“What am I supposed to tell my kids? That their father might not come home?”
“We don’t know that anything has happened to your husband. We just want to make sure he makes it home safe.”
“So what do I do now?”
“Go eat lunch with your kids, and we promise we’ll be in touch as soon as we know something.”
Madison headed back to the car with Jonas, praying that the next time she saw Mrs. Phelps, it wasn’t to tell her that her husband wasn’t coming home.
Fourteen
Pizza boxes lay spread out across a desk inside the sheriff’s office as they worked through their next move. They’d updated the BOLO issued to law enforcement officers across the state with photos and background information. On top of that, they were working with other law enforcement agencies who had dealings with Barrick in the past to ensure the information they had was complete. An extensive dossier was a first step in figuring out where he would go for help.
“His mother lives in Denver,” Jonas said, writing the name of the woman on the whiteboard along the far wall of the room. “She works as a receptionist for a local dentist office.”
“He’s going to need cash,” Madison said, “but he knows we’ll go to her first.”
“Along with everyone else on this list,” he said as he added to it.
She pulled out information on the last place he’d rented and double-checked the landlord information. It was the tedious part of working a manhunt. They talked to family members and neighbors. Checked credit card activity, phone activity, and bank records.
“We need to have the top five names brought in for questioning by local law enforcement and find out if he’s contacted them,” Jonas said. “But my gut tells me he’s going to try and go to someone he thinks we don’t know.”
“Or strangers like he’s already done.” Madison tapped her fingers on the table.
The prepaid phone she’d bought in town vibrated in her back pocket. Madison pulled it out and checked the call log. There were three missed calls from her sister. A twinge of guilt surfaced. She tried to make it a priority that family always came first, but it wasn’t always easy when she had no idea when she’d be gone and for how long.
Like today.
“I need to make a phone call,” she said.
“Sure.” Jonas glanced up from the desk. “Is everything okay?”
“My sister called. I left her a message telling her I was fine, and that I’d call when I could. I just need to smooth things over with her so she doesn’t worry, then I’ll be back.”
“Take as long as you need. Seriously.”
Madison went back to the bench where she’d sat with Will and called her sister, surprised—not for the first time—by Jonas’s softer side.
“Danielle,” she said once she answered. “It’s me. Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” There was a long pause on the line. “Listen, I probably shouldn’t have called you, and I apologize for not leaving a voice mail, but I got your message, then I couldn’t get through. I was worried.”
“It’s fine. I have a few minutes. I would have called sooner, but things have been a bit crazy.”
“I got your message about the plane crash and now it’s all over the news. Are you sure you’re okay? I have to say, I’m a little freaked out over all of this.”
Madison let out a sharp sigh. At least it sounded like everything was okay on her sister’s end, and she couldn’t blame her for being upset. Leaving a message that you’d been in a plane crash wasn’t something that happened every day.
“I’ll be honest, it’s been a rough twenty-four hours,” Madison said, “but I really am okay. You don’t have to worry. I’ll let you know as soon as the case is closed and I’m on my way home, though it migh
t be a few days. You’ll need to tell Lilly how sorry I am to miss her birthday dinner. I’ll take her somewhere special once I’m back.”
“That’s fine. She’ll understand. Daddy’s here for Lilly’s party, which is a good distraction for her. I’ll tell her we’re going to have a second party later on.”
“I really am sorry, Danielle. I never should have left a message like that, but I was so worried about you finding out something on the news.”
“It’s fine, though to be honest, sometimes I hate your job and wish you were—I don’t know—a cafeteria worker or something, so I didn’t have to worry so much.”
“I promise I’ll be home soon, and we’ll all go out and do something normal with the kids. I’ve been wanting to take them to the aquarium or the zoo.”
“I’d like that, but there’s something else.”
Madison felt the worry surface again. She got up and started pacing. “What is it, Danielle?”
“I found a note on my front porch today. Slipped into my mailbox.”
Immediately Madison felt her guard go up. “What does it say?”
Danielle paused. “It says, ‘Consider your next move. I have more reach than you think. I know what would hurt you most.’”
Madison felt a wave of panic strike. “Is that all of it?”
“Yes, but it probably just scared me because Ethan’s gone, and I was watching this creepy movie last night. But then after your message, I started wondering if they were somehow connected to your work.” Danielle let out a sharp breath. “You know. Someone using me to get to you.”
Madison’s mind was racing. There couldn’t be a connection to Barrick. Could there? Had he found a way to threaten her family in order to get them to let him go?
“Is there a way to tell where it came from?” she asked.
“It wasn’t signed, but there were two initials. DB.”
The ground began to spin beneath her. Madison walked across the grass and sat down on the bench.
DB.
Damon Barrick.
How had he been able to get to her sister?
“What are you thinking, Madison?”
She hesitated. Her mind raced through the options, unwilling to take any chances of putting her sister or her family’s life at risk. “Those are the initials of the fugitive we’re after.”
“So someone is using me to get to you?”
“I don’t know how, but yes. When did you say Ethan gets home?”
“He flies in Saturday night.”
Two more days.
And she had no idea when she’d be able to get back. Even if she tried to get a flight out now, they were miles from the nearest airport.
“I want you to listen. Don’t panic but pack your bags. I’m going to call my boss. You’ve met him once—Chief Deputy Carl Michaels. You can trust him. I want you and the kids and Daddy to go to your in-laws’ for a few days. At least until we catch the fugitive we’re after.”
“Madison—”
“Promise me you’ll do what I said.”
There was a long pause on the line. “Fine, but—”
“No buts, just promise.”
“I promise.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch.”
She hung up and began dialing Michaels but stopped when Jonas approached her.
He stepped in front of her. “You look upset. What happened?”
She hesitated, not wanting to tell him the truth. She didn’t want him to ever believe she wasn’t capable of doing her job objectively. Hated that the last twenty-four hours had left her feeling vulnerable and out of control.
“You look like you just saw a ghost.” He sat down next to her.
She drew in a breath and told him about the threat. “I’m worried my sister and her family might be in danger.”
“Wow. I’m struggling to understand how and why he did that, but I certainly don’t blame you. If you feel like you need to leave—”
“I will if I feel like I have to, but I talked to her about going to her in-laws’ for a few days.”
“I think that’s a great plan. Ask Michaels to put a detachment on them until we can figure out what’s going on.”
She nodded, pulling her phone back out. She set things up with the deputy director, but her mind refused to stop running through all the worst-case scenarios.
Jonas gave her a look. “What are you thinking?”
“How would Barrick arrange something like this, and if he did, what does he really believe he’ll accomplish getting my sister involved?”
“I don’t know,” Jonas said. “But Michaels will be able to get to the bottom of this.”
She stared out across the pastureland and let the mountain air fill her lungs. “What happens when no matter what you do, you can’t fix things?”
“Are you talking about the case, or something else?” Jonas asked.
“I don’t know. Both maybe. People count on us. Expect us to bring these guys in so it doesn’t happen to someone else. But sometimes everything goes wrong. Luke died. My sister’s being threatened—”
“I promise we’ll do everything we can to keep your sister and her family safe no matter who’s behind that note.”
“I know that. On one level, anyway. But I keep thinking of Katy Phelps and wondering what will happen if she finds out she lost the father of her children because he tried to do something good? Because I know what that is like. How are we supposed to stop things that are simply so unfair?”
“Is this about Katy Phelps or is it about not saving Luke?”
She shrugged at the question as she tried to put things into words. “It’s about stopping it from happening to someone else. It’s about hating lying to her to make her feel better.”
His gaze narrowed. “You told her what she needed to hear. Besides, you could be right. We don’t know what happened to him. There’s a chance he’s just stranded on the side of the road where Barrick dumped him.”
“You know as well as I do that the chance of that father never coming home is pretty high.” She stepped around him and started to leave, then turned back. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually ramble like this.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t a normal situation and on top of that, we’ve been through a lot the past twenty-four hours.”
“I still shouldn’t let it get so personal.”
“But it is. There’s no way around it. We were in a plane crash. You were attacked, shot at, then held at gunpoint by a bunch of ranch hands, and now your sister’s life has been threatened. If you ask me, that’s pretty personal.”
She shot him a half smile. “Well, when you put it that way . . .”
“And all of this while you’re grieving the loss of your husband. Give yourself some grace, Madison. You might be a marshal, but you don’t have to be Superwoman 24/7. It’s okay.”
She studied his face and shook her head. “You’re not like most men I know.”
His cheeks turned a bit pink before he smiled. “It’s why you became a marshal, isn’t it? You lost your husband and decided you don’t want it to happen to someone else.”
She let out a low chuckle. “You make my decision sound so valiant.”
“Isn’t it? Why else do you do what you do?”
“I don’t know. It’s just always been a calling. Wanting to defend justice. Wanting to make a difference somehow in this world.”
“I remember we talked briefly about our faith during our training. Do you feel that God called you to do this?”
“I do.”
“And we do what we do because this world is full of sin and evil that needs to be stopped. Because we want to see good thrive and justice reign.”
“Yes,” Madison said. “But sometimes the darkness seems so much stronger than the light.”
“Maybe, but God is so much bigger than the darkness. You have to keep remembering that.”
“I know. Sometimes I need something tangible, you know? Like now, when my
sister’s being threatened. What if I can’t keep her safe?”
“I’m here. I’m listening. The battle is fierce, but we know who wins in the end. And in the meantime, we’re going to go out there and find Barrick and put an end to this.”
She sucked in a breath at the reminder, but he was right. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For listening.”
“That’s what partners do.”
She nodded as Sheriff Hill walked up to them, a frown on his face.
“Sheriff?” Jonas said. “Is everything okay?”
“I’ve got some news, but you’re not going to like it. We found a body. It’s Ryan Phelps.”
Fifteen
The sick feeling that had taken root in her gut deepened. Ryan Phelps was dead.
“You’re sure it’s him?” Madison asked.
The sheriff nodded. “We double-checked with his DMV photo, but yeah, we’re sure.”
Jonas cupped her elbow with his hand. “Madison?”
She allowed herself to lean on him. A man was dead, and someone was going to have to tell Katy Phelps her husband wasn’t coming home.
“Where did you find the body?” Jonas asked.
“A local hiker and his dog stumbled across it. I assume that your felon thought he could bury the body in a shallow grave, and no one would discover him until he was long gone, but he chose the wrong spot. Buried him too close to a favorite local hiking spot.”
The weight of their decisions pressed against her chest. She’d told Katy Phelps there was no reason to believe anything had happened to her husband, and yet somehow she’d known. Known Barrick wouldn’t hesitate to kill the man if he came between him and his freedom.
“How did he die?” Jonas asked.
“The coroner will do a full autopsy, but because of some defensive wounds on the body, it looks as if they got into some kind of altercation and then Barrick shot him.”
“He could have just taken the car and left him alive on the side of the road,” Madison said.
But instead darkness had won again.
“There’s more,” the sheriff said. “We also just got Phelps’s phone records and found something interesting there you’re going to want to see.” The sheriff held up a piece of paper. “According to phone records, the last call made on Phelps’s phone lasted three minutes. Because of the time stamp, I’m pretty sure we can assume that Barrick made the call.”