Emma’s teeth chattered. “H-H-Henry,”
The woman’s expression faltered. Her warm brown eyes snapped in Sawyer’s direction, hyperfocused on the blanket in his arms. “Was the baby hurt?”
“No,” Sawyer said with confidence. If he had been, it would’ve been the first thing she said.
Emma shook her head. “He’s just t-tired and sc-scared.”
Sawyer rubbed the blanket covering her back. “Let her look you over. I’ve got Henry,” he promised. “We’re fine.”
The older woman tipped her head and refreshed her smile. “I’ve got heated blankets and dry scrubs in the bus.”
Emma nodded woodenly, pressing her lips into a thin white line.
Sawyer kissed her head, then helped her into the ambulance.
“We’ll only be a moment,” the woman said before pulling the bay doors shut.
Sawyer leaned in, listening through the panels.
“Here you are. Go ahead and change out of that wet shirt, then I’ll get your vitals.”
Sawyer breathed easier. Emma was in good hands. Now he’d find out who the four trespassers had been. He’d knocked two of them out cold. Maybe at least one of them would talk. He frowned at the spot on the lawn where he’d left the first man unconscious. Hopefully, he’d been collected by the local officers and put in cuffs somewhere for safekeeping.
“Mr. Lance?” A man in jeans, a T-shirt and ball cap called from his porch.
Sawyer changed directions.
The man was Sawyer’s age give or take a few years. His boots were unlaced and there were creases on his cheeks, signs he hadn’t been on duty when he’d gotten the call to come tonight. The sleep marks were also indicative of a deep sleep recently interrupted. Sawyer couldn’t help envying a man who was able to sleep so deeply that the sheets had left marks that were still visible. Sawyer had only truly slept soundly a few times in the better part of a year, each of those times had been this week, always with Emma in his arms.
Sawyer shook the man’s hand. “Sawyer Lance.”
“Detective Steven Miller,” the man said. “I spoke with Detective Rosen on my drive over, and he brought me up to speed. Were you or Miss Hart harmed tonight?”
“No.”
His gaze slid to the blue bundle in Sawyer’s arms. “Was your son?”
“No,” Sawyer said, feeling his protective hold on Henry tighten. Was this the way Emma felt all those times he’d noticed her pulling Henry a little closer? “Emma’s with the EMT right now.”
The detective’s mouth turned down. “How many trespassers were here tonight?”
“Four,” Sawyer said, turning his attention toward the spot in the yard where the first man he’d knocked out had landed. “I left one right over there, and another in the hallway outside my bathroom. Two got away on the ATVs they rode in on.” He raised a hand in the direction where the vehicles had been. “I hit one vehicle and one driver. A superficial leg wound. I’d aimed for the tires, but the trees are thick, and they were moving fast.”
“And it’s the middle of the night,” Detective Miller said. “How far away were you?”
“About thirty yards.”
The detective gave an appreciative whistle. “I’d say you did all right.”
“What happened to the man I left outside?” Sawyer asked, avoiding the detective’s next logical question. Where did Sawyer train to shoot like that? It wasn’t a deviation in topic he wanted to take right now. Right now, he wanted facts and answers.
“Outside?” Miller shook his head. “We only found one man. Inside.”
Sawyer opened his mouth to swear, then shut it. His gaze dropping to the infant in his arms. He’d never been one to take issue with cursing, but it just felt wrong to be the one introducing his baby to the words. “I guess he got away.” Though he wasn’t sure when. Sawyer hadn’t seen a third headlight when the other two men fled, and he hadn’t heard another engine rev to life after the other had run off. “I don’t suppose you recognize the man you found in here?” he asked.
“I do,” Miller said.
Sawyer felt his brow raise. “Is that right?”
Emma jogged in their direction and up the steps to Sawyer’s side, dressed in pale blue scrubs that dragged the ground and sagged off her shoulders. She wound her arms around his middle and pressed a cold cheek to his chest. “I’m fine,” she said, rolling her eyes up to his. “Shaken up and cold, but well. How’s Henry?”
“Perfect,” Sawyer answered. “This is Detective Steven Miller. Detective Rosen filled him in on the case.”
The detective extended a hand in her direction and they shook.
Emma gave him a slow and careful look, stopping to examine the badge on Miller’s belt. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. You said you recognized one of the men?”
A uniformed officer appeared, tugging a man in cuffs along at his side.
“Yep.” The detective raised a palm, halting the cop and criminal. “Miss Hart, Mr. Lance, this is David Finn, an occasional visitor at the local police department. Petty crimes mostly.”
Sawyer ground his teeth, aching to knock David Finn back into unconsciousness for about a week.
“Your last name is Finn?” Emma asked, releasing Sawyer and squinting up at the scowling man and his big black eye.
“Yeah? So?” he snapped.
Emma chewed her bottom lip. “I just wanted to hear him talk,” she said. “This isn’t the man who mugged me or took my sister. His voice is all wrong, and it’s not the man who broke into Sara’s room. Sawyer shot that guy.”
David Finn slid his gaze to Sawyer, and Sawyer smiled.
He reached for Emma, bringing her back against his side.
Detective Miller gave Finn an appraising look. “So, what’s your big important role in this mess, Finn? How do you fit into the business of terrifying this nice family? You’re certainly not the muscle,” he said with a wicked grin, circling a finger in the direction of the man’s swollen eye. “And I’m still trying to figure out when you graduated from graffitiing the corner store to the attempted murder of a new mother and her infant.”
“Man,” Finn drawled, “I didn’t attempt murder on nobody. I didn’t even touch that woman or her baby, and I ain’t talking to you until I talk to a lawyer.”
Miller motioned the uniform to take Finn away.
As they passed, Emma pressed closer to Sawyer, a small tremor playing in her hand on his back. “I heard his voice when I was hiding,” she said. “He was looking for his brother or brothers. David had family here tonight. Why?”
David craned his neck for a look back as the officer hauled him down the steps. He didn’t speak, but the fear was plain in his eyes. David knew Emma knew about his brothers, and they weren’t getting away like he’d thought. That truth gave Sawyer a measure of satisfaction.
It also worried him to know that by failing the mission, the sloppy foursome had turned their target into a witness.
Emma rubbed her palms against her arms, still fighting the cold.
“Why don’t we go inside?” Sawyer said. “You’re probably chilled to the bone, and Henry will be more comfortable in his crib, away from the wind.”
Emma nodded. She looked to Miller. “Can you stay for coffee or tea, Detective?”
He took a long look at the scene beyond the porch. The ambulances and cruisers were packing up and pulling out, leaving his unmarked SUV alone beside Sawyer’s rental. “Why not?” he said. “I’ll be hanging around until the crime scene crew gets here to collect empty casings from the shoot-out. I might as well warm up while I wait.”
“Great,” Emma said, her spirits seeming to lift a bit.
Sawyer held the door for Emma and Miller, then followed them inside. “Is there anything I can do to help tonight?” he asked. “Finding the casings, identifying the tread marks or
tracking the escape route?”
“Nothing tonight,” Miller said. “I’d like to have you both speak with a sketch artist tomorrow if you’re willing. Anything you can remember about the fourth man’s face. I have photos of the Finn boys you can use to identify which ones were here tonight.”
Emma nodded. “Okay.” She led the way into the kitchen and stared at the counter. “Tea or coffee?” she asked.
“Coffee,” Miller said. “Black.”
Sawyer stopped to admire the limited number of scratches on the front door’s dead bolt. “One of those men knew how to use a lock pick.”
“Yep,” Miller responded. “Probably the one you saw leaving in handcuffs. Petty theft is his idea of a good time.”
Sawyer stared at the lock, hating what an easy mark he’d made Emma and Henry. He’d assumed the fact that his home was registered to the company, in another county and had only recently become a place with an address would be enough to keep them safe for a few days. He ran a freaking private protection company, and he’d failed to lock down his own home.
Sawyer excused himself to put Henry in his crib, then headed back to the kitchen. When the sun rose, his place was getting a security overhaul that would be worthy of his company name.
Emma lined mugs on the counter where his old coffee machine puffed and grunted against the backsplash. “Will Detective Rosen be out tonight?” she asked Miller.
“No.” The detective scanned Sawyer’s home casually as he spoke. “Rosen said he’s got his hands full back in Knox County. Seems the sudden crime spree over there has taxed their force to the limits, and he’s barely treading water.”
“How much did he tell you about my situation?” she asked.
Miller tipped his head over each shoulder briefly. “He says your sister found and documented evidence of an embezzlement scheme at her credit union. Someone was pulling hundreds of thousands of dollars a year out of the accounts by manipulating the computer system.”
Emma shot Sawyer a pointed look. “That’s a lot of money.”
“Did he say how they were doing it?” she asked, filling three mugs with coffee and ferrying them to the table in a tight triangle between her palms.
“Computers,” he said. “Someone manipulated the program that determines the interest owed on folks’ accounts. The system began directing a small portion of the interest earned into an offshore account. The interest owed on most accounts is only about one-and-a-half percent, and the portion diverted from each account was minuscule at best. Most people didn’t notice a few extra dollars or cents gone. Most probably didn’t bother to do the math on it, just trusted the bank to add their one-and-a-half percent every quarter. In the event someone noticed and called the credit union on it, a correction was made immediately, and those accounts were credited fifty dollars as restitution for the error. Then that account was removed from the list of accounts being attacked.”
“Then Sara noticed what was happening,” Emma guessed.
Miller took another long pull on the steamy black coffee. “According to Rosen, she started looking at every account. One by one.”
Sawyer smiled, watching Emma’s face light up at the mention of her sister. “That’s Sara,” she said, “and it explains the mass amount of numbers in her notebook.”
Detective Miller sat back in his seat. “Your sister tracked every error and the date the error was made for the past twelve months, logged the details, built a case to show the credit union’s interest program had a flaw. Then, somehow, she managed to get her hands on the matching offshore account numbers, and Rosen thinks that was when things changed. Probably, whoever she looked to for help was high enough up the food chain to have been part of the scheme she’d uncovered. She sounds like a smart, determined, resourceful woman.”
“She is,” Emma said. “I wish Detective Rosen would have told us all this. He knows I want to be kept in the loop, but he rarely calls. It’s infuriating.”
Miller finished his coffee and set the mug aside. “It’s a lot of information, but none of it brings you any closer to your sister, and I think Rosen’s hoping to call with news that matters. Men like Rosen and me got into this for the people. I’m guessing he doesn’t give two flips about bank interest. He’s working to get Sara home.” He offered a small smile. “I wish I was officially on that case because it sounds a world more interesting than the junk I deal with over here in Tennessee’s most rural county.”
Sawyer rubbed a palm against the stubble covering his cheek. He lived in Tennessee’s most rural county, on a finger of a lake sandwiched between two forests. “How do you think these guys found us out here tonight?” It had taken emergency responders at least ten minutes to arrive, and they knew exactly where to go. The remoteness, Sawyer realized, was great until he needed the authorities, then he’d have to be prepared to wait.
Miller cast a look at Emma, then back to Sawyer. “Rosen’s men have been searching Miss Hart’s land, looking for the bullet that went through the man you shot earlier this week. If they find it and match it to their suspect, they can arrest him. They haven’t found the bullet yet, but they did find a listening device late this afternoon. You’ll be hearing from him tomorrow about a sweep of the home’s interior for additional devices.”
Sawyer moaned. “The man with the duffel bag came to plant bugs while he snooped.”
“Seems like.”
Emma paled. “We talked about Sawyer’s home while we cleaned. The lake. Our time here.”
Detective Miller frowned and pushed to his feet. “I’d better get out there. See if I can find some of the casings from tonight’s showdown. Match the bullets to the guns. Guns to their owners.”
Sawyer followed Miller to the door. “Before you go, what can you tell us about David Finn and his brothers?”
“Not a lot. The Finns are a big family, and they keep to themselves. Dad’s a mechanic. Mom stays home with all the kids. They’re strapped for cash most of the time like a lot of folks around here. Some of the older boys have been in trouble from time to time, vandalism, shoplifting, petty theft. Nothing like this.”
Sawyer mulled that over. “When you say the Finns are strapped for cash, how strapped are you talking? They don’t have enough money to take the whole gang out for ice cream after T-ball, or they don’t even have enough money for the kids to play T-ball?”
“More like the church delivers gifts every year so the kids have something to open on Christmas morning.”
A whoosh of air left Emma’s chest as she appeared at Sawyer’s side. There was sudden and profound sadness in her eyes. “So, David and his brothers were likely the hired henchmen,” she said. “Coerced into participation by their need to assist the family.”
Detective Miller cocked his head. “It’s nice of you to jump to that conclusion. I’m not sure most would in your position.”
Sawyer smiled. Emma’s kind heart and compassion were two of his favorite things about her.
Emma looked at Sawyer. “What?” Her brows knit together. “Most people are good,” she said with finality. “What wouldn’t you do to feed your family?”
Sawyer considered ticking off a list. Murder. Theft. Kidnapping. But he wasn’t sure. Wouldn’t he steal to feed his son? Wouldn’t he kill to protect his wife? Mother? Brother? The honest answer was that it would depend on the circumstances. That he honestly didn’t know. He’d never, thankfully, been in the dire straits Miller described. He’d never been in the Finns’ shoes, so he couldn’t judge, but he’d like to think that he’d always side with the law.
Detective Miller’s cheek kicked up in a lazy half smile as he watched the exchange between Emma and Sawyer.
Emma’s shoulders drooped. “I’m not trying to make excuses for criminals,” she said. “At the risk of sounding awful, David Finn didn’t look, sound or carry himself like someone with a lot of education, motivation or discipl
ine. So, I doubt he’s the criminal mastermind behind all this. Couple that with his family’s financial situation, and it’s more likely that he’s made a bad decision for what he sees as a good reason.”
Miller slid his gaze to Sawyer and smiled. “She’s observant.”
Sawyer laughed. “Yes, she is. I also noticed that the leather riding gear they wore was high-end, and those ATVs were new.”
“So, either this wasn’t the Finn brothers’ first job,” Emma said, “or the one in charge bought new bikes for his crew.”
Sawyer gave her hand a squeeze. “That’s my guess.”
“New bikes?” Miller asked. “Did you get a make and model?”
“Yeah.” Sawyer grabbed a pen and paper, then jotted down a description of the vehicles. He stopped suddenly, a smile spreading over his face. “Emma and I saw four headlights in the trees when the men arrived. Four bikes. Four men.”
Emma smiled. “David didn’t leave on his ATV.”
It was still out there.
Miller swung the door open. “Nice work.” He tipped two fingers to the brim of his ball cap. “I think I’ll go see about that vehicle. I should be able to find the owner through the registration or purchase order. Thank you for the coffee.”
“Detective Miller,” Emma said, rushing to catch him before he slipped back into the night. “Wait.”
Miller stopped on the threshold and raised his brows.
“Did Detective Rosen say if there has been a new lead on my sister?”
The detective took his time answering, but Sawyer saw the slight sag in his shoulders, the downward curve of his mouth. No news. “No, ma’am, I’m sorry,” he said finally.
Emma blew out a soft breath. “Okay, well...” She looked at the floor, at her hands, scrambling for something more. “Is there any chance that the Finns have her? Could they be keeping her somewhere?” she asked. “Maybe hiding Sara has been their role in this until now. If they were being paid to keep her hidden, the payoff might’ve been enough money to buy the ATVs and riding gear.”
Missing in the Mountains Page 13