Flaw-Abiding Citizen (The Worst Detective Ever Book 6)

by Christy Barritt

  “Is it bad if this cop sees what we’re doing?” Zane asked.

  “It is if he interferes.”

  “Good point. Good point.” He took another sip of his coffee. “What are you going to do about him?”

  I nibbled on my bottom lip. Was it important to lose him? I wasn’t sure. And there weren’t many places to lose him around here—it was pretty much a straight stretch of road.

  But I saw a bend in the highway up ahead.

  As soon as I rounded it and disappeared from sight, I pulled onto a side road—amazingly, there was one—and kept going until my car wasn’t visible from the highway.

  I counted to thirty. My heart pounded in my ears. This was some real-life experience here. If Relentless was picked up again, I could use this as an emotional memory.

  The things I thought about at the oddest times . . . they made me shake my head at myself. But my acting coach would be proud that I’d remembered his tip.

  “He should have passed us,” I muttered.

  “There’s only one way to find out. Hashtag: maytheforcebewithyou.”

  I drew in a deep breath before pulling back out. I crept toward the main highway and looked left, then right.

  No cars were in sight.

  I released my breath. Maybe I had lost him. I was a ninja that way.

  Except when I wasn’t. Which was most of the time.

  Cautiously, I pulled back onto the road. “Can you check your phone, Zane, and see if we’re close to this place?”

  “Absolutely.” He balanced his coffee on his knee and hit a few buttons on his screen. “It says it’s the next turn up ahead.”

  I nibbled on my bottom lip. “So why would my dad leave a clue instead of just coming right out and saying it?”

  “Maybe he feared someone else would see the clue and find the information first.”

  “Information?” Was that what I was looking for? Could this be where my dad was hiding? This was all a crapshoot, wasn’t it? Yet in my gut I felt like I was onto something.

  “If he’s living out here with the alligators and bears, he could have bigger problems than we assume.” Zane shrugged and flicked some lint from his shorts. “But I’m always up for an adventure.”

  At the sign, I pulled into the refuge, and a long gravel road greeted me. I wasn’t sure what to expect here, and I hadn’t exactly had time to research everything. But it appeared I could drive through miles and miles of refuge simply by following the gray gravel road.

  Munchkins sang that concept over and over in my head, to the tune of “Follow the Yellow Brick Road.”

  “Wow, look at this.” Zane showed me a picture on his phone as I crept down the lane. “People see mama bears and their cubs out here.”

  Mama and three cubs stood in a grass field with the sun low on the horizon. The picture was beautiful . . . and intimidating. The last thing I needed was to run into a mama bear. I shivered at the thought.

  “There are red wolves out here too.” Zane scrolled through pictures. “I’ve been so close to this place this whole time, and I had no idea.”

  “Sounds more and more dangerous all the time.” For real. What was I doing here?

  My car rumbled down the road as Zane rambled off more facts. Park rangers managed the area. Gravel roads were for the car explorers. There were some trails for hikers, and some even braved kayaking out here. But mostly it was a huge nature preserve that was open for the public to use.

  At least I still had a half a tank of gas left. That was the good news.

  The bad news was that massive biting flies were dive-bombing my car, reminding me of some sort of Egyptian plague that had come to life around me. If they started breaking through the glass, we were in trouble.

  “I suppose they don’t spray for pests out here,” Zane said. “Hashtag: lymedisease, westnile, and lordoftheflies. Take your pick.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Another one hit my windshield and left a blob of guts there.

  Gross. So gross.

  Zane scanned the area, his lips scrunched in an uncertain frown. “Can’t say I’m all that anxious to get out anywhere and look around.”

  “Nor am I.” Maybe this was all a bad idea. But I wasn’t turning back now.

  “Where the tail end of the creek and the trail meet,” Zane muttered. “Is that what you said?”

  “Correct.” Those words were ingrained in my head.

  Zane stared at his phone again. “I’m losing service out here, and this may be nothing. But there is a Milltail Road. What do you think?”

  “It’s a start. Where is it?”

  “You need to turn left up ahead.” He stared at his phone. “This is fascinating. Did you know this place used to be called Buffalo City? There was a whole town out here, according to this article. They were known for moonshine and lumber.”

  “I would have never guessed that.” All I could see were woods and canals and kamikaze flies.

  “Look at that!” Zane pointed up ahead. “It’s a bear.”

  My foot hit the brakes. Sure enough, up ahead a huge black bear crossed the road, lumbering toward the other side.

  My nerves wound tighter and tighter.

  “Okay, I will be more focused here. Let me check out this map.” He stared at his phone for longer. “Okay, there’s a Mill Creek also.”

  My pulse spiked. “Does it meet the road somewhere?”

  “It sure does. Where the creek and the trail meet! Could that be what we’re looking for?”

  “At this point, I have no other guess.” I glanced in my rearview mirror again and noted that no one was behind us. We must have lost the cop following us.

  At least one thing had gone according to plan. I was hoping for many more.

  I followed his directions, successfully avoiding the bear, which had disappeared back into the foliage on the other side.

  “Can you pull over right here?” Zane pointed to the side of the road.

  An overgrown path was there with a Do Not Enter sign. But I could park on this side of the gate.

  I thought.

  Once I put my Miata in park, Zane and I looked at each other.

  “What now, Raven?” he asked.

  Raven was who had gotten me into this mess, wasn’t she? Everyone mistaking me for some great detective when I wasn’t. If that had never happened, I might not be doing this right now. I had mixed feelings on that.

  “I guess I should get out,” I finally said. “Let’s give the place a quick sweep.”

  As more flies dive-bombed my windows, I questioned just how rational this was.

  Chapter Twenty

  Just before I opened my door, ready to step into the great unknown, Zane pointed out the window to a canal that ran parallel to the road. “Look at that! It’s an alligator. Here in North Carolina. That’s pure craziness.”

  I swallowed hard as my eyes sought out the creature. Sure enough, there he was. The top of his body barely skimmed the water as he moved stealthily, like a guardian over an area we were about to invade.

  “It sure is,” I finally said.

  I didn’t want to get out. But I’d driven all the way here. I at least had to see if there was anything noteworthy. Right?

  At once I thought about those scarab beetles from The Mummy.

  If I made it quick, then nothing could get to me. In theory, at least.

  I was hoping and longing for a lot of uncertain things right now. That couldn’t be a good sign.

  “Do you want me to be lookout for you?” Zane pulled himself up higher in his seat, still gripping his coffee, with his seat belt on.

  He didn’t want to get out of the car either, I realized.

  If Jackson were here—and if we were on good terms—he would never let me do this alone.

  But Zane and Jackson were two different people.

  “Whatever works for you,” I finally said.

  I mentally ran through all my episodes of Relentless, trying to grab any nuggets of wisdom or
advice from Raven. From the script writers, at least.

  I came up blank. I couldn’t remember any time when Raven possibly encountered a bear, alligator, or wolf.

  Lucky her.

  Unlucky me.

  With one more minute of hesitation, I finally stepped out.

  It wasn’t a bear, alligator, or wolf that assaulted me. No, it was the flies.

  I swatted them away. Before I could swat all of them, one bit my exposed leg, and a welt appeared.

  This was a bad idea. As was wearing jean shorts here.

  I kept moving forward, looking for anything that might give me a clue that my dad had been here and that I wasn’t misinterpreting all of this.

  Had my dad known I would come looking for him? He must have known.

  He’d raised me. Of course, he had hoped I would do the right thing. He’d hoped that he’d brought me up correctly.

  Right?

  It was another uncertainty. The last thing I needed was more of those.

  I climbed over the Do Not Enter gate.

  Score one for trespassing. Again. I was becoming a regular at this.

  The grass brushed my legs. It was tall. The ground was rocky.

  And I wondered what was beneath this grass, just out of sight.

  It was probably better if I didn’t know.

  With no clue as to where exactly to go, I stepped toward some trees near the creek.

  As I did, the ground gave way beneath me. My foot sank into a quicksand of moss, roots, and swampy water.

  I bit back a scream.

  I glanced at Zane in the car, and he offered a smile and a thumbs-up.

  I gave him a dirty look in return, but he must not have seen it, because he smiled wider.

  Another fly bit me and left another welt.

  Man, those buggers hurt!

  Just a few more steps, and I was turning around. And that was that.

  I was an idiot to be out here without bug spray or the right clothes or a gun. Maybe a few bodyguards—bodyguards who weren’t staying in the car right now.

  No, Zane was smarter than to be out here.

  My foot—clad only in a flip-flop—was now slimy and disgusting as I pulled it out of the swampy, spongy ground that had swallowed it.

  I was about to turn around, about to call this a day, when something on a nearby tree caught my eye. Was that . . .

  It couldn’t be.

  But it was.

  It was a date nail. The kind used by the railroad. My dad used to collect them.

  And the number there was 25. The date I was born. October 25. That wasn’t a coincidence.

  My dad had been here, I realized. All of this wasn’t in vain.

  I grabbed a small shovel from my trunk. I only carried one because my dad had insisted I always keep one there for emergencies. He’d also insisted that I know how to change a tire. I’d kind of resented the lessons at the time, but now they seemed really handy.

  Not only that, but Zane emerged from the car to see what I was doing.

  He swatted his neck and muttered something under his breath.

  Yep, the flies were getting to him also.

  “What is it?” he asked. “You look excited. And you have a . . . shovel?”

  “I’m like a Girl Scout. Always prepared.” Except for the fact I was wearing flip-flops, and didn’t have any bug spray, and no one knew I was here.

  Minor details.

  As I crossed back toward the tree, I explained to Zane what I’d found. Before I finished, I’d reached the tree again and sank my shovel into the ground. I had to dig only about six inches before the metal tip hit something.

  “A root?” Zane asked.

  “There’s only one way to find out.” I used the metal edge of the shovel to scrape away more of the surface dirt.

  What I saw there wasn’t a tree root.

  No, it was a beige waterproof tub.

  My heart rate increased. Maybe my crazy idea hadn’t been so crazy after all. Someone had left something here, and my best guess was that it was my dad.

  I suddenly forgot about all the dangerous critters and squatted down. I used my fingers to uncover more of the eight-inch-square container. When I could wrap my hands around the edges, I heaved it from its hiding spot.

  “I’ve got to hand it to you, Joey,” Zane said, grabbing the other side of the tub to help me. “This was very clever. I’m impressed.”

  “Let’s not be impressed until we make it out of here alive,” I said.

  “I’m so attracted to you when you talk like that.” He smacked another fly on his neck.

  I let out a fake laugh. He was joking. I hoped.

  Yep, there I went hoping and feeling uncertain again.

  Wasting no more time, I brushed the remaining dirt from the top and then tugged on the lid.

  I could hardly breathe when the contents greeted my eyes.

  Papers. A CD-ROM. Pictures. So much to sort through.

  And this wasn’t the place to do it. I needed to get this somewhere a little more secure than Red Riding Hood’s backyard.

  I slipped the CD-ROM into my back pocket, put the lid back on the tub, and stood. “We’ve got to get somewhere private to look through this.”

  Zane swatted another fly from his arm. “Couldn’t agree more.”

  But as he stepped over the gate, I heard something behind us.

  “Stop right there,” a deep voice said.

  I recognized the voice before I ever set eyes on him.

  Currie.

  And suddenly a bear or alligator didn’t seem that dangerous . . . not with a gun pointed at me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “How did you find me?” I stared at Currie, who stood at the edge of the woods with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, a smirk on his face, and a Glock aimed at me.

  But I knew the answer to my question.

  That hadn’t been a cop following me earlier. It had been Currie.

  Why hadn’t I realized that an hour ago?

  This time he’d come with backup. Two men flanked either side of us, and neither looked like the type to guest star on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. More like, Are You Scarier Than a Gangbanger?

  It wasn’t an actual game show, but it could be. Jeff Foxworthy could host it and begin a whole new cultural trend of “You might be a gangbanger if . . .”

  But I digressed. Again. At the worst possible times.

  “Is that any way to greet the man you almost killed?” Currie stepped closer and glared at me. He exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke right into my face. He’d obviously never seen any of those commercials about secondhand smoke. On second thought, he probably had and didn’t care.

  I held tighter to the tub, though I knew it was probably useless.

  These men had guns. Zane and I didn’t.

  And there were so many ways they could kill us here and we’d never be found. So. Many. Ways.

  “I really love what you’ve done to your face,” I said, noting the cut there. No doubt it had been from the car accident I’d initiated last week. It had been in the name of survival, however. My survival.

  I knew my words were inciting. But . . . they’d come out anyway. Stress had a way of drawing out that side of me.

  He sulked even more. “You think you’re clever. You’re not.”

  “If I’m not clever, then why did you follow me here?”

  “Enough talking,” he muttered. “Give me whatever that is in your hands.”

  “I’d prefer not to,” I said.

  “Joey,” Zane muttered, elbowing me.

  No doubt his life was flashing before his eyes. I could hear it in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, Zane,” I said. “I know I just got you out of prison and everything.”

  “It was jail. Not prison. There’s a big distinction between the two.”

  Was this really the time to correct me? “Anyway, and now here we are.”

  Five months’ worth of work was in my hands
.

  “Just give him the package,” Zane said through what sounded like gritted teeth.

  Currie raised his gun higher. “Listen to your friend, and give me the package. Or we can do this the hard way.”

  I swallowed, nearly choking on my own spit. And how did Currie speak so clearly with a cigarette in his mouth? He’d obviously had practice.

  And again I digressed.

  I stared at the package in my hands. Was it worth my life?

  No.

  But I especially couldn’t put Zane at risk. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if something happened to him because of me.

  I lowered it into the grass in front of me. “Fine. Take it. But let us go. Please. You have what you want.”

  Currie motioned for one of his thugs to grab it.

  My heart ached just a little as the man walked away with something I worked so hard to find. The man set it aside, well out of my reach but close enough to taunt me.

  It wasn’t fair. Then again, neither was life.

  I’m sorry, Dad. I know that whatever was in that package was important to you. I know I’m letting you down, but I don’t know what else to do.

  “Now tie them up,” Currie said.

  “Wait . . . what?” Certainly, I hadn’t heard him correctly. “Why would you do that? You have what you want.”

  “So you can learn your lesson, once and for all. And because of this.” He pointed to the cut on his face.

  “There’s got to be another way.” Sweat sprinkled Zane’s forehead.

  “We could shoot you now.” Currie’s eyes gleamed.

  At least if we were tied up, we’d have a fighting chance, right?

  Uncertainty gripped me again.

  One man grabbed Zane and the other grabbed me. Currie kept his gun aimed on us the whole time, overseeing the operation. The man pushed me against a tree. Pushed Zane against the other side of the tree. Then they wrapped rope around our midsections, pinning down our arms, and pulled it tight—tight enough that my fingers tingled on impact.

  “Have fun.” Currie stepped close enough to gloat. “It’s almost feeding time.”

  He reached into his pocket and tossed out an old hamburger. Apparently, it was also known as bear food. And when the bear got done with the burger as an appetizer, then he’d have me and Zane.