Hers to Protect

by Catherine Lanigan

  Violet pounded up the sidewalk to Mrs. Beabots’s drive and nearly flew into the house to grab her keys, her fanny pack with badge and ID, and her gun.

  She pounded down the stairs.

  At the landing Mrs. Beabots was in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “What in the world is going on?”

  “Stay in the house! Lock the front porch and turn on the security motion lights. I’ll be back.”

  “Violet?”

  “Do it!”

  Violet raced to her car, started the engine and backed out the drive.

  She had no idea where Josh and Miguel would go in a Maserati and not be seen by someone in Indian Lake.

  If she had to drive around all night, she would.

  She called Bob Paxton, who was on stakeout at the farmhouse and alerted him to Miguel’s presence. Then she called Trent.

  “Davis.”

  “Sir, I have reason to believe I’ve spotted Miguel Garcia.”

  “Continue.”

  “He went to Austin McCreary’s house nine minutes ago. Josh Stevens joined him, and the two drove north up Maple Boulevard. I’m in pursuit.”

  “Have you seen him since?”

  “No, but I doubt he’d stay in town driving that car. Too easy to spot.”

  “Roger that.”

  Josh didn’t know his way around Indian Lake, having spent his real time in town either in jail, the hospital or at Austin’s house.

  Except...

  “Sir, I’m going out to the lake.”

  “The lake?” Trent asked.

  “Yes, sir. It’s dark and heavily forested. There are plenty of places to hide a car around there.” And I have a hunch I know just where Josh would go to avoid being seen.

  “I’ll check with Paxton,” Trent stated.

  “I did that, sir. He’s on alert.”

  “Good. I’m on my way to my car. I’ll check the abandoned drive-in theater and call in Paluzzi to go to the train depot lot and church lots. Hawks, I’m ordering no sirens or lights if you pursue. I don’t want Garcia to know we’re on to him.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Trent groaned.

  “Yes, sir. A quarter-of-a-million-dollar needle,” Violet quipped. “Ten four.”

  * * *

  VIOLET DROVE OUT to the lake, circled around to the north and parked her squad car over a block from the densely forested area where she’d parked when she brought Josh out here.

  She knew that if she found the Maserati, she should check in with Trent immediately. Yet, already, she ran scenarios in her head of what she would say to Josh if she found them together. Was Josh buying drugs? Was he part of Miguel’s cover? Was he a partner in this gang?

  Her head pounded with the possibilities.

  She’d jogged to the parking area, and just as she slid through a blind of blue spruce trees, the Maserati drove past her onto the lake road and headed back toward town.

  Violet hurried back to the car, careful to stay out of their view behind the massive trunks of maple trees and full foliage bushes. In her dark clothes and by staying in the shadows, she knew they couldn’t see her. She took out her cell phone, then hit Trent’s number on “favorites.”

  “Davis.”

  “Sir. I found the Maserati. It was at the lake.”

  “Where’s Garcia?”

  “Driving back toward town. Josh Stevens is with him.”

  “Oh, this just gets better.”

  “Sir—” she opened the car door, got in and started the engine “—I’m in pursuit.”

  “Ten four.”

  Violet sped down the lake road, but was stopped by the light at Indian Lake Boulevard. Since she was under orders not to use the siren, she drummed her fingers anxiously on the steering wheel until the light turned green.

  She made her way to the overpass over the railroad tracks. From this height she checked west and then east on Main Street.

  She saw the Maserati.

  “There you are!”

  The light was green, and she turned to follow her quarry.

  Miguel drove cautiously until they were out on the state highway. The Pentecostal Church evening service had just let out, and a stream of cars pulled onto the highway. The majority of cars headed east. Violet wove through them, but within five or six minutes she realized she was pursuing no one. The Maserati had dropped out of sight.

  At the next U-turn in the median, she doubled back toward town, knowing that Miguel had pulled one of the oldest tricks in the book.

  He had to have turned off his headlights, taken a turn and driven down a country road or one of the farmer’s outlet drives. It was nearly ten o’clock. With no streetlights out this far from town and miles of unlit farmland, she knew she could spend all night combing the fields and country roads trying to find the Maserati.

  Her best bet was to go back to Austin’s house and wait for Josh to show up.

  Twenty minutes later, Violet cut the squad car’s engine and turned off the headlights as she parked around the corner and a block away from Austin’s house. She felt strange staking out a house where she’d always been welcomed as a friend.

  But the tables had turned just hours ago.

  Josh was with Miguel Garcia. It was weird that all this time she’d assumed this connection between Josh and Miguel, but seeing it with her own eyes, it hurt that he’d lied to her.

  Josh was in deep. He’d been followed by an officer of the law. Already a person of interest, the ILPD most likely would look at Josh differently from tonight forward.

  Feeling squeezed between a very large rock and the hard place she’d created by allowing her romance with Josh, Violet could only imagine the betrayal Josh would feel once she arrested him—again.

  Suddenly, she saw Katia’s Bentley coming down the street. Violet got out of her car. Crouching low, she hid behind a row of boxwoods at the southern end of Austin’s property. Katia pulled into the drive, turned off the car and got out.

  The front door opened and both Austin and Josh came out as Katia opened the trunk and began unloading groceries.

  Josh took several bags in his good hand as Austin kissed Katia and helped with the rest.

  Violet gasped. “Josh is here? He’s home?”

  She stood and walked closer, though still careful not to be seen by the trio.

  She watched as Josh made a joke about four containers of Louise Railton’s ice cream. They all went inside.

  Violet immediately went back to her car and drove to the police station, calling Trent to report in. He explained that he’d sent both Bob Paxton and Sal Paluzzi out to the farmhouse in the event that Miguel doubled back to the meth lab.

  Violet was sitting at her desk when Trent walked in.

  “I don’t understand,” Violet said, shaking her head. “I saw Josh get in Miguel’s Maserati. I saw them come out of that parking area near the stone bridge.”

  Trent interrupted, “How would Josh know about that old stone bridge area? No one goes there. He had to be in on something with Garcia. Maybe Josh has been coming to Indian Lake for months. Maybe he’s the front man for Garcia.”

  “Sir.” She folded her hands in her lap, the pangs of her betrayal to Josh biting the edges of her heart. If she wasn’t in love with Josh, would she be this riddled with guilt? Would her eyes sting this much? “I took Josh out to the bridge.”

  “Why?”

  “Intel work. I was hoping to get more information.” Which was true, but she also wanted to be with him. There had always been this chance that Josh could be involved with Miguel, but all this time, she hadn’t really believed it.

  Yet, she’d been taught to follow facts, intel, discovery and forensic reports to hone her talents of detection. As a rookie, she would be judg
ed harshly on every mistake. She had no history of solid arrests yet.

  “I see.”

  Violet’s head was tangled with her missteps and decisions she’d made based on emotions. Those feelings had caused blindness when it was her job to see. Caused her to lose her prey. She asked Trent, “But how did Josh get back to Austin’s house without me seeing him? I clearly saw him in the passenger’s seat of that Maserati when they left the lake area.”

  “Did you see him in the car when Garcia was driving through town?”

  “I...I...”

  “Or when you were in pursuit east out of town?”

  “Come to think of it, I did not. The windows were tinted and it was dark. I only saw a shadow of the driver as I tried to watch his moves.”

  “My bet is that he dropped Stevens off at Main and Maple Boulevard. Then he drove east. All Stevens had to do was walk...”

  “Eight blocks to Austin’s house.”

  “It wouldn’t take fifteen minutes,” Trent said, raking his hair.

  “So where does this put us?”

  “Closer, Hawks. Not there, but closer.” He tapped the top of her computer screen. “Email me your report. I’ll call the chief. It’s going to be a long night.”

  Violet put her fingers on the keyboard, but they remained frozen.

  Her report was accurate. It stated facts. There could be a dozen reasons why Josh was with Miguel, none of them nefarious. On the record, Josh was still only “a person of interest.”

  As an officer, she knew they were moving close to arresting Miguel. Her duty would be satisfied. But in the process, she feared she’d lose the one thing that mattered. Josh.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  INTEL GATHERING AT the ILPD hadn’t been this intense in all Violet’s time here. Chief Williams had ordered every scrap of information about Josh Stevens and Diego Lopez/Miguel Garcia sent to his desk. Since the night Josh and Miguel drove to the stone bridge by Indian Lake, both Detective Davis and Chief Williams had raked through her reports, questioning her on every point. Josh had gone from a person of interest to a serious suspect.

  Photographs of the farmhouse, the stacks of methamphetamine ingredients, Violet’s snapshots of the Chrysler and even aerial photos that the chief requisitioned, maps with colored pins stuck in them and a blizzard of notes were taped to a large white wallboard.

  “Thanks to this past week’s surveillance by Detectives Paxton and Paluzzi—” Trent pressed his forefinger to the county map “—we’ve been able to figure out the routes the gang uses most often.” He pointed to the farm road that ran by Violet’s mother’s house. “Because this road continues up into Michigan, we’ve staked more ILPD unmarked cars along here. This week alone, the Chrysler and a black Buick have been seen leaving the area of the farmhouse and driving up into Michigan.”

  “Sir,” Violet said. “No sign of the Maserati?”

  “None yet.”

  “Have we seen this gang member before? The one driving the Buick?”

  “We believe so.”

  “And yet they have shown no signs of cooking meth,” Violet said, peering at the photos. “These boxes are untouched and in the same order as the night I first went there.” She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. “There can be only one reason for that.”

  “Which is?” Bob Paxton turned toward her.

  “They never intended to make meth,” she said. “The farmhouse is a decoy.”

  Trent stood and went to the board. “If it’s a decoy, Officer Hawks, then where in the blazes are they nesting?”

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  Trent frowned. “All these weeks and we’ve got nothing.”

  “Maybe not,” Violet replied, pointing to the board. “What if they are doing business here in Indian Lake like we thought? What if the meth is a decoy, but they’re actually running heroin? That would explain the need for the Chrysler and now the Buick and those trips to Michigan.”

  “Possible,” Trent said.

  “Highly probable,” Sal added. “Go on, Hawks. You’re on to something.”

  “We’ve hung back from an arrest because we wanted to nail these guys in the act. What if we got the warrant to search? Go out there when we know they’re on-site?”

  Trent turned to Sal. “Didn’t you question those neighbors again?”

  “The Hardestys. Yeah. But they said they haven’t seen a thing.”

  Violet’s eyes widened. “I talked to them just this morning on the phone. Mrs. Hardesty was aloof at first. I reminded her of the jar of honey I brought her.”

  “Nice.” Bob nodded.

  “And?” Trent waved his hand at her to continue.

  “She said she couldn’t sleep last night because of the ruckus at our farmhouse.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Just before midnight.”

  Trent looked at Sal. “Did you see anything?”

  “The lights were on inside. I saw three guys. The two from the Chrysler and a fat guy in the Buick.”

  Violet gave Sal a steady look. “No Maserati?”

  “I kept watch for it all night. No headlights. No taillights.”

  Violet snapped her fingers. “Miguel drives with the lights off!”

  “He does.” Trent gave her all his attention.

  “That’s how he eluded me going out of town. I bet he can go for miles without headlights. He knows those roads.”

  “True, but Sal spotted the car at the farmhouse.”

  Trent stood with his hands on his hips. “I’ll talk to the chief. Get the warrant. Tonight we move. Hawks, you’re in on this one.”

  “Yes, sir!” Adrenaline shot through her as Trent breezed out of his office and went straight to Chief Williams’s office.

  She looked at Bob and Sal. Their wary expressions said it all. “I can do this,” she said.

  “You’re good at intel, Hawks. And we all think you show a natural talent for detective work, but this is different. If it goes down badly, your skills will be tested,” Sal said.

  “I have to start somewhere.”

  Bob stood and patted her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. This first time, though—just be careful.”

  Bob and Sal left, muttering their misgivings to each other.

  Violet’s earlier thrill of victory evaporated.

  They’re afraid I’ll screw up. That my errors could cause us to blow the sting. Or worse, that someone could get hurt.

  Maybe Trent had spoken too soon. Maybe she should back up.

  She wiped her palms over her face and said to herself, “Stop it, Violet!”

  This was what she’d been working toward. This was what she wanted. What she’d trained for.

  “Hawks!” Trent’s deep voice reverberated across the hall.

  She darted into the hall. “Sir?”

  He motioned to her to join him in the Chief’s office. “Chief Williams wants the latest on Stevens.”

  She nearly sprinted to the large office.

  Chief Williams said, “I want to know if Stevens is part of this gang. Where is he today?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I saw him last night...”

  “I know that. I read the report. Get him on the phone.” He looked at his watch. “Take him to a late lunch or go bowling. I don’t care. But stay close. If there is something going down, it’s going to happen soon. I want to know where his head’s at.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If Stevens is involved, we’ll nail him.” He propped his elbow on the desk and pointed at Violet. “And if he’s not, I don’t want the first disparaging word said about him or his activities. We don’t need the national media coming down on us again. You got that?”

  “I do.”

  “Good. Dismissed.”

  Violet
didn’t look at Trent as she rushed to her desk. She took out her cell phone and punched in Josh’s number.

  He picked up on the second ring.

  “Violet! I can’t believe you’re calling me,” Josh said excitedly.

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because I was just going to call you. That’s so weird. We thought about each other at the same time.”

  “Yeah.” She paused as a warm flutter crossed her heart. She lowered into her desk chair. “So, what’s up?”

  “Can you drive me out to Austin’s car museum? I’m due out there in about forty-five minutes.”

  “Due?”

  “Yeah. I have a gig,” he said happily.

  She felt herself smile. She was always surprised that the sound of his voice lifted her spirits. “It can’t be a fund-raiser. I would have known about that.”

  “It’ll be a surprise. I know you’re working, but I thought if you pleaded with your boss—”

  “Superior officer,” she corrected him.

  “Right. What do you think?”

  She needed to hedge a bit. If it looked easy for her to leave her post on a whim, he might get suspicious. “I’ll ask, but it’s probably not going to happen. Rookies don’t get many favors and I have very little vacation time my first year.”

  “Oh, yeah. Vacation time. I didn’t think of that.” His voice trailed off. Then, brightly he said, “Tell the Chief I’ll donate to whatever police fund he chooses if he’ll give you a couple hours with me.”

  “Josh...”

  “That’s not bribery, is it? I don’t want to break the law.” He started to chuckle.

  Not only did Violet’s orders include gathering intel on Josh, but she was curious about this “surprise.” “Let me handle it. I’ll call you back.”

  “Great. I’ll be waiting by the phone. Thanks.”

  Josh hung up.

  Violet rose and went to Trent’s office. The door was open, so she knocked on the doorjamb.

  “Hawks?” Trent looked up from the papers he was reading.

  “I just got a call from Josh Stevens. He’s asked me to drive him out to the car museum. He says he has a ‘gig’ out there he wants me to see.”