“You daring me?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Okay.” Charlotte pushed up to a seated position, cupped her hands around her lips and yelled. “I need a hero.” She lay back down, still smirking. “Satisfied?”
“Quite.”
I tightened my line, then released the slack. The rumble of an engine became more pronounced. Definitely a small craft motoring our way.
“You hear something?” Charlotte asked.
“Sounds like a boat to me.”
“Relax,” Charlotte said. “You just squared your shoulders like the sheriff back home does when he expects trouble. Boats are common in lakes. Relax and enjoy the scenery.”
Easy for her to say. I was already aware of one crazy person running loose in these parts. Who knew how many crazies we had up here?
An inflatable craft in the lake’s center made a course correction, heading straight toward us. I reeled in my line. “Looks like we’re about to have company.”
Charlotte sat up, donned her glasses, and shaded her brow with her hand. A second later she beamed and fluffed her chin-length hair. “I should’ve announced my desire for a hero to the universe years ago. Two hunks dead ahead. Proceed with shameless flirtation.”
Chapter Three
“Good morning,” Hunk Number One said, his voice deep and rough as sandpaper. He stepped out of the beached craft, planted an anchor on the shore, and took our measure. The name plate on his navy-blue uniform said “Duncan.” He moved his wraparound sunglasses to his ball cap.
I returned the scrutiny, noting this white male’s shiny shoes, crisply pleated sheriff’s department uniform, close-cropped hair, and sharp blue eyes. Hunk Number Two, a lanky African American also in uniform and armed, seemed concerned with scanning the tree line around us. According to his uniform ID tag, his surname was Loggins.
Larissa shushed the barking dogs, scooped up Muffin and Elvis, then came to stand by me at the water’s edge. Charlotte stood on the blanket, her bare feet pale against the bright pink fleece. Larissa’s black lab leaned against my leg, while the two cats scurried to the nearest bush. Something about the intense way these deputies studied us made me wish I could skulk away and hide with the cats.
“Morning,” Charlotte said, waggling her fingers in greeting.
“Good morning,” Hunk Number One said. “I’m Deputy Duncan, and this is my partner Deputy Loggins. We’re checking on folks using the lake. Please give us your names.”
Charlotte looked at me. I motioned for her to continue being our spokesperson. “I’m Charlotte Ambrose. We’re visiting from the coast.”
“And that would be …?”
“Marion. We’re nearly halfway between Savannah and Jacksonville.”
“This is private property,” Deputy Duncan said in a stern tone.
“It belongs to my cousin, Annabelle Kinsey. We have her permission to camp here. Would you like me to call her so you can confirm our right to be here?”
“That won’t be necessary.” He turned to me. “And you, ma’am?”
I swallowed thickly. “Baxley Powell. This is my daughter, Larissa. The three of us drove up from the coast yesterday, along with my parents. They went to visit their friend Luanne Sweet’s farm today.” I searched their faces. “What’s this all about?”
“There was a disturbance nearby,” Duncan said, writing quickly on a small notepad. “We’re making sure everyone else is all right, and at the same time compiling a list of people in the area. We’re searching by water and by land to make sure we don’t overlook anyone. You’re the first folks we’ve spotted by the lake.”
On the boat, Loggins tapped rapidly on an electronic tablet. I gulped. With today’s technology, they could instantly run a background check on all of us. I hoped Charlotte didn’t have any outstanding parking tickets. Even so, I felt queasy at being investigated. Was this about our visitor last night?
“Are you aware of anyone else staying in the vicinity?” Duncan asked.
“We’ve only met one individual so far,” I said.
“And that would be?”
Was I getting a vet in trouble? Too late now. “Burl Sayer. He stopped by and introduced himself last night.”
“Sayer? No one’s seen him in months. We thought he’d moved on.”
“Nope. He’s alive and well and very much here.”
Duncan stilled. “He can be confrontational. No incident to report?”
“We sorted everything out right away,” I hurriedly added before Charlotte blabbed about the shotgun. Sayer would not do well in police custody.
Duncan glanced over his shoulder at his partner. “Sayer can be a bit much. Was he in his Army duds?”
“Yes.”
“We need to find him,” Duncan said. “Put out an APB.”
I chewed my lip, wishing they weren’t intent on finding Sayer. Couldn’t they give a vet a break? Maybe Sayer’s skills would keep him from harm during this manhunt.
“On it.” Loggins fiddled with the tablet, then picked up a radio from the dash. “Be on the lookout for suspect male Burl Sayer.” As he gave Burl’s height and weight and other identifying features, I reached a stomach-knotting conclusion. An incident had occurred at the lake. These cops thought Burl might be responsible.
I heard the unmistakable yet distant wail of a police siren from somewhere behind us, way uphill and distant. If I was a suspicious sort, and I was, I would think they were sending cars to move us somewhere. I edged closer to my daughter. What kind of disturbance happened nearby? Were we in danger?
Loggins’ tablet beeped. He was fully absorbed by whatever had popped up on that screen. If I hadn’t been watching him, I’d have missed the slight flaring of his eyes as he caught his partner’s gaze.
Suddenly the air felt wrong in this tranquil setting, as if it was too heavy to draw into my lungs. These cops were searching for a suspect. Not my problem. Except I had a sinking feeling it would become my problem.
All three dogs howled at the siren, and Larissa, bless her, tried to quiet them.
Loggins scowled and stepped off the boat toward Charlotte, tablet tucked under his arm. He was taller than me and looked former-professional-athlete solid.
I felt a tug on my elbow and jumped.
Deputy Duncan gestured toward the path leading back to our camp. “Come with me, ma’am. We have cruisers meeting us at your campsite for transport.”
My feet grew roots. The fishing rod bobbled in my hands. “I’m not leaving my daughter or my friend. We’re traveling together. If you need someone to vouch for my character, call Sheriff Wayne Thompson down in Marion.”
“You’re in our database as his consultant, and we’ve already got a call in to him. This is a routine precaution. For your safety as well as ours—”
“Gun,” Deputy Loggins yelled from behind me. “She’s got a handgun in her waistband.”
“Hands in the air,” Duncan said, weapon drawn. “Now.”
“But I can explain.”
“Hands up.”
A millisecond later, my Beretta was gone, my pockets emptied, and my arms were tightly clenched behind me. In the second before I totally locked down my extra senses, I got an inkling of the cop’s mental state. Neutralize the threat. Protect my partner. Assess the danger level. Contain the situation.
Fear threaded through his laser-focused thoughts, along with excitement. I needed to do some fast talking before the situation escalated further. “I can explain the gun,” I began again, twisting around to search Deputy Duncan’s face. “Sayer’s visit last night spooked me. I didn’t want to be unarmed if he strolled by today. I have a carry permit.”
Maddy charged the deputy, barking like she’d cornered an armadillo in the yard. In slow motion, flecks of dog spittle flew everywhere—on me, on the deputy. The man behind me shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. Was he reaching for his gun again?
“Mom!” Larissa shouted.
“No!” I ye
lled at the deputy, who had drawn his weapon. “Don’t shoot!”
Chapter Four
Sirens wailing, dogs barking, females screaming, big guy behind me channeling two-hundred-proof adrenaline—this misunderstanding needed to be turned around before someone got hurt. I sent Larissa an urgent telepathic message, Calm Maddy right now, or the cops will shoot her.
“Maddy!” Larissa shrilled. “Heel. Maddy. Come. Maddy. Here, girl.”
The Labrador stopped barking, but she didn’t cede an inch of territory. Her protest turned to a deep-seated growl. I’d never heard this dog take offense before, but she sounded like a hellhound about to go for the jugular. I didn’t need my extra senses to feel the man’s fear behind me. He telegraphed it in waves.
Deputy Loggins motioned Charlotte and Larissa away from the fray. I saw the tight set of my daughter’s mouth, the militant jut of her chin. But I also saw the shudder that coursed through her body. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but I needed to ensure her safety. “Do what he says, Larissa.”
Deputy Duncan put me between him and the growling dog. “Call off the hound, lady. You don’t want me to take care of it.”
“Maddy, it’s okay.” I used my most soothing voice. The dog shook her head, flopping her ears. I repeated the phrase several times until she heard me. The dog stopped and cocked her head, confused. She whined softly. I tried again with a quiet voice. “Easy. Easy does it. That’s a good girl. That’s a good dog.”
I glanced over at the tree where the rest of my party and Deputy Loggins huddled. Charlotte’s red cheeks and stiff posture spoke volumes, as did the fierce expression on my daughter’s face. “Call her now, Larissa,” I said. “She’ll come this time.”
“Leash the dog,” Deputy Duncan ordered once the Labrador padded over to my daughter.
Larissa handed Muffin and Elvis to Charlotte, then she clipped a leash on Maddy.
Duncan released me, and I finally felt like I could take a full breath. “Thank you.” I rubbed my wrists and glared at him. “I’m not accustomed to being treated as a suspect.”
“Sheriff Blair treats everyone as suspects until she proves otherwise. I didn’t mean to frighten you, but you should have declared your weapon from the start.”
Heat flooded off my face. He was right. “Sorry. I forgot.”
Deputy Loggins’ tablet beeped. He glanced at it, then nodded to Deputy Duncan. “We need to remove your party from the area,” Duncan said.
“What incident happened nearby?” I asked.
“I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am. Please, if you’ll walk up to the campsite, all will be explained soon.”
My daughter’s questioning look asked, What now? I responded via our one-way telepathic link.
Do what they say, even if we get separated. This situation is temporary, and we’ve done nothing wrong. Keep calm.
She nodded, so I felt like I could count on her to cooperate with the authorities. Charlotte, I wasn’t so sure about. She looked like she was ready to whip out her Press Club pass and demand to know what was going on.
“You can’t violate our civil rights like this,” Charlotte said.
“Loggins, give us five, then follow us to the campsite,” Duncan said. He latched onto my arm again. “Let’s go.”
“What about our stuff? And our cats.”
“Since this lake frontage is Ms. Kinsey’s private property, and since we saw no other boats or people on the lake, your belongings should be secure for the time being. And long ago I learned you can’t make a cat do anything it doesn’t want to do.”
Deputy Duncan kept a steady pressure on my arm as we marched away from the others. Great. We were in the divide-and-conquer portion of our encounter. “You may have a point.” Other than the cops freaking out about my gun, they had been fair with us. But something had them wired to the gills. “Do you arrest every visitor to your county?”
“You’re not under arrest, ma’am, just detained until we get further clarification of your role from both sheriffs.”
If only I weren’t moving, I’d risk a dreamwalk with this guy’s thoughts. But the circumstances weren’t dire enough for the potential consequences of me appearing to lose consciousness. I could wake up in a hospital full of IVs and drugs. An involuntary shudder ripped through me. Not going to happen.
We walked in silence along the wooded path. My curiosity flared at their interest in us. “Were y’all looking for someone in particular?”
The path narrowed, and he released his grip on my arm. “Can’t talk about the case, ma’am.”
The case. So there was a case. I sighed. Just my luck to go on vacation and land in the middle of an investigation. Sinclair County’s Sheriff Wayne Thompson would love this. He was probably laughing his head off right now. Heck, to spite me he might even tell them to lock me up and throw away the key.
“How’d you do that with the dog, ma’am, if you don’t mind me asking?” Deputy Duncan asked.
Ah. My hopes flared. Had this guy decided I wasn’t a criminal? My dreamwalker skill set included truth detection, touch readings, and talking to the dead in the spirit world. I was certain he’d never met a person like me before. “In addition to my police consulting work, I have a pet and plant care business. I understand animals, at least dogs and cats.”
Twigs crunched underfoot. The shadows around us quivered as a breeze ruffled the tree canopy. I didn’t need ESP to tell me this man was deep in thought.
Finally, he spoke, his gravelly voice tinged with wonder. “I’ve never seen a dog quiet from a mad like that. You train dogs?”
“Some.”
“Huh.” We walked on a bit. “How much you charge for your services?”
I bit back a smile. “Depends on how long it takes to get the dog’s attention and to retrain the pet owner.”
“You saying my dog’s bad behavior is because of me?”
My cheek twitched. “Every situation is unique. Just like this one. You could extend some professional courtesy and tell me what’s going on and why I’m separated from my daughter and friend.”
“You’re being detained at the request of our sheriff, ma’am.”
I glanced over my shoulder and pinned him with a glare. “You’re serious? I’m a stranger to these parts. No way I could’ve done whatever is wrong.”
He had the decency to blush. “Procedure, ma’am. I’m doing my job.”
Crap. He’d use the p-word. I trudged in silence, ever upward toward the meadow where my truck and the campers were parked. I’d seen Wayne round up suspects time and again. He exercised every means he had to make the suspects realize he was in charge so they’d hurry up and level with him.
The divide-and-conquer strategy was effective in this instance. I didn’t want my daughter to go through an interrogation. I didn’t want her spending a second of her vacation in an interview room, or worse, worrying about her mom going to jail.
As we approached the campsite, the filtered daylight turned emergency-light blue from the two cop cars in the drive. And there, standing beside my camper, was the Ice Queen of a woman I’d been avoiding for months. The state archaeologist with a medical examiner’s license. Gail Bergeron.
Chapter Five
“Fancy meeting you in my neck of the woods,” Gail Bergeron quipped. “I was on my way to see Sheriff Blair about an unusual case when I heard your name on the scanner. Annabelle dated my cousin one summer so I knew exactly where this place was. Thought I’d make my pitch before Twilla Sue got her hooks into you. By the way, nice tag-along camper you got here.”
The state archaeologist looked right at home at my campsite, what with her gleaming hiking boots, finely creased jeans, silver-studded leather belt, and bright white blouse. A crisp navy-blue-and-white-patterned scarf at her neck completed her chic ensemble. Her short blonde hair was styled like a grown-up pixie, giving her a waif-like appearance, except I knew better. I’d watched her chew men up and spit them out like old gum.
“H
ello, Gail.” My legs felt heavier as I approached. I’d rather have my fate in Sheriff Wayne Thompson’s hands than this woman’s. She’d been after me for months to help her with her cold cases. We’d been on opposite sides of a previous case, and I couldn’t forget how unpleasant she’d been to me. I didn’t want anything to do with her or her moldy old bones.
She caught the eye of the man beside me. “Deputy Duncan, nice to see you again. If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a few moments in private with this woman regarding a cold case.”
Deputy Duncan’s hand closed on my arm again. “I have orders to deliver Ms. Powell to my boss, ma’am. You’ll need to take your request up with the sheriff.”
My estimation of Deputy Duncan rose several notches. He must’ve gotten trampled by Gail before. Nice to know she didn’t cow everyone.
Gail fumed and I listened as the deputy made arrangements for one of the new officers to ride back on the lake with Deputy Loggins while Duncan took a car.
He marched me over to a squad car and opened the back door. “Get in.”
I tried to catch sight of Larissa and Charlotte, but there were too many trees between us. Climbing in the cruiser, I wrinkled my nose at the faint whiff of urine and vomit. The door slammed shut behind me.
Gail approached the car and tried to slip past the deputy. He spoke to her sharply, probably repeating the same line he gave me about doing his job, and she argued loudly with him. He didn’t respond, only held up his hand and made a circular motion. Two armed deputies approached and escorted Gail away from our vehicle.
Gail’s retreating back gave me a perverse sense of satisfaction. Ha! Divide and conquer trumps political connections in this county. You’ll have to wait to sink your talons into me, Ice Queen.
Deputy Duncan climbed into the front seat and started off. I gazed back at the campsite to see Gail hurrying to the black Hummer parked nearby. One cop car remained. For Charlotte and Larissa. I gulped. We drove past Annabelle’s cabin. Two more cop cars were parked there, and the door yawned ominously before us. What was it about the vacant cabin that drew their attention?
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