by DiAnn Mills
“Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I have Isabella Snyder.”
“You persuaded Snyder to give himself and his daughter up?”
“No. He’s talking to Sheriff Lennox. I’m with two deputies from Sweet Briar. I’ve just witnessed the epitome of lawlessness. I’d like for you to do a—”
“Sheriff, everything all right in there?” Deputy Viner shouted.
April needed to intervene. “Simon, I’ve got to go. Temperatures are hot. Talk to you soon.”
Had Jason been given enough time to escape?
April moved behind the deputy’s car to protect Isabella from possible gunfire. Jason was armed. Would he return fire to the one man who supposedly had the evidence to exonerate him?
“Give Sheriff Lennox time to negotiate,” she shouted but didn’t approach them.
A text sounded in the burner phone Jason had given her.
Car seat left 4 u
The deputies ignored her. Deputy Viner repeated his question to Sheriff Lennox. When silence met their ears, the deputies rushed the door. An engine roared to life. Jason’s truck sped around the rear of the motel and onto the highway.
He’d dodged the deputies by escaping through the bathroom window.
April hugged Isabella close to her. In her catharsis, she realized Jason trusted her. “Your daddy is a brave man,” she whispered. “I’m ready to help him find the proof of his innocence.”
13
THE DEPUTIES AND WILLIS raced after Jason in patrol cars, leaving April holding Isabella with no visible means of transportation. True to his text, Jason had deposited the car seat outside the rear window of the motel room where he’d made his escape.
When April explained her FBI status to the desk clerk, he handed her the keys to his Camry, and she promised she’d have his car returned by the following morning.
The dear man even installed the car seat.
April drove north toward Sweet Briar, passing more sections of the Big Thicket within the boundaries of the state park.
She processed the events of the past several hours in chronological order, replaying conversations and determining where to look first for evidence to show who’d killed Russell Edwards. How beneficial it would have been if she’d been able to record Willis’s and Jason’s conversation. When time allowed, she’d document all the details floating through her mind. Occasionally she glanced at Isabella in the rearview mirror, chatting with the sweet baby the way Jason had. The news radio shared no reports of him being apprehended. Neither had he called.
Time to contact Simon.
Once she had her partner on the line, she quickly explained what happened when Willis arrived at the motel. “I want everything you can find on Sheriff Willis Lennox, unsolved crimes in Sweet Briar, cell phone records, Snyder Construction, and any information about Billie and Zack Lennox. Everything. Send me the crime scene report for Russell Edwards’s murder. I’m looking for documentation of two bullets smashing through a window, broken glass inside or outside. The bullet caliber used to kill Edwards and the autopsy report when it’s completed. Don’t forget backgrounds on all his deputies. I’m calling you from a burner, and you can text or call me on this number.”
“Where did you get the phone?”
“Jason bought it for me.”
“Are you pretending to be on his side?”
An alarm sounded in her brain. Her job skills required her to walk a tightrope of the rational, which she’d totally abandoned. “I believe he was set up for murder, and that person arranged for his daughter to be kidnapped.”
“You came to this conclusion in a matter of a few hours?”
“Willis Lennox threatened to kill Isabella along with Jason and me. Last time I checked, that’s illegal, even for law enforcement personnel. Willis stated he’d drop the charges if Jason agreed to tell him how to find his wife and child—Billie and Zack. From what Jason’s told me, Willis may have abused them. I’m convinced Jason didn’t shoot anyone.”
“Hold it. You believe he’s innocent, and the sheriff is out to get him?”
A nudging in her spirit pushed her forward. “Yes.”
“What if both men are wrong? What if both men are right, and they’re acting upon what they allege as valid information?”
“My allegiance is to truth, but Willis made this personal.”
Simon’s tone softened. “I’m concerned about you being caught in the middle. Think about what happened prior to this.”
“I’m fine. I’m taking Isabella to her grandparents.” She explained how she’d obtained the Camry. “When I get there, hopefully making sure the elder Snyders take off on a trip, I’ll call or text where I’ll be staying. Would you arrange a car for me and for this one to be returned?”
“Sure. Leave the keys on the rear driver’s side tire, and agents will do the same with the replacement vehicle.”
“Thanks. Who’s on the ground in Sweet Briar working this case?”
“This isn’t an FBI case.”
“It is when a federal officer is threatened. And don’t forget about the reported kidnapping.”
“Granted, but you can handle those aspects from here in Houston.”
“Fine. I’ll file my report online ASAP. When I’m back in the office, I’ll walk you through what I know.” She started to end the call, then remembered. “Two things I’d like to have before then—number one, I want to see the local hospital records for Billie or Zack Lennox. Number two, Sheriff Lennox’s original charges against Jason and any release paperwork.”
She’d do her own digging into Carrie Edwards. She simply needed access to the Internet.
“I’ll spin a few cycles and get back to you.”
“Thanks. Talk to you soon.” She disconnected, Simon’s questions replaying in her head. “What if both men are wrong? What if both men are right, and they’re acting upon what they allege as valid information?”
Her stomach twisted. The idea of facing another failure—
She dismissed even a hint of it. She’d heard Willis’s every word.
In the small, single-stoplight town of Sweet Briar, she glanced on both sides of Main Street at two antique stores, a flower shop, a barbershop next door to the Cut ’N’ Curl beauty salon, a sign indicating a church to the right, and a small restaurant called Sweet Briar’s Home Style Cooking. She parked the car outside the diner and entered with Isabella. Surely someone could give her directions to Vicki and Ted Snyder’s home.
A jukebox, black-and-white tile floors, chrome tables with red vinyl tablecloths, red-padded chairs, and a soda-fountain bar took her back to the fifties, reminding her of Happy Days reruns. Three white-haired ladies were seated at a round table with their Bibles open.
“Why do you have Isabella Snyder?” one of the women said with a lift of a painted brow.
April walked to them. “I’m FBI Special Agent April Ramos, and I’m looking for Vicki and Ted Snyder. This little girl needs her grandparents. Can you help me?”
The woman tickled Isabella’s chin but frowned at April. “You know our Jason is innocent. Willis’s report is hogwash. He never killed Russell. Why, they were best friends.”
Another woman, wearing a wide-brimmed, robin’s-egg-blue hat matching her cardigan, squinted. “Where’s your ID? After all, a woman kidnapped Isabella.”
April shifted Isabella to her hip and fished through her purse. How did mothers get anything done? She produced the ID.
The woman examined it for several seconds. “This looks legit. Of course, you could have gotten it at one of those fancy party stores.” She handed April’s ID back. “That boy was raised right. In church. Brings Isabella too.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’re working on learning the truth.”
The blue-hatted woman shook her finger at her. “I’ve known Jason since the day Vicki birthed him. Went to his and Lily’s wedding and to the dear girl’s funeral. He doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. Do you understand?”
April got the picture. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Folks call me Miss Ella.” She ripped out a piece of paper from a spiral-bound journal and with arthritic fingers wrote, Ted and Vicki Snyder and an address. “My guess is you have an app on your phone for directions.” She jotted down a phone number. “You call me if you need anything, you hear?” She reached out with the slip of paper.
“Thank you. I will.” April grasped it, stuffing the paper into her purse with her ID, and turned to leave.
“Wait a minute, missy. I’m not done yet. You’re handing Isabella over to Vicki and Ted now?”
“I am if they’re willing to accept custody.” If not, April planned to drive back to Houston with the baby—legal implications notwithstanding.
“If you’re here on Sunday, I expect to see you in church. Let’s all pray before you leave. See if we can speed up God taking care of this.”
Miss Ella seemed to be straight out of another era, like the restaurant. But Jason needed all the help he could get.
“Lord, we have a mess here. We’re begging You to right a terrible wrong. A good man has been killed, leaving a sweet widow and two darlin’ little boys, and another good man has been falsely charged. But You know all our troubles.” Miss Ella prayed until April’s arms ached from holding Isabella. How did one person think of so many things to say to God? The woman concluded the prayer for Jason and Russell’s widow, Carrie Edwards.
“Thanks for the address and phone number.” April’s feet were itching, wanting to take flight.
Miss Ella studied April. “You believe in Jesus?”
“I’m a Christian.”
“That ain’t what I asked.”
How could April appease the woman about a subject she rarely visited? On cue, Isabella fussed. “I suppose we should go. Isabella’s hungry.”
“Mark my word, girl. Before this is over, you’re gonna see the power of Jesus.”
Bewildered and so far from her comfort zone, April expressed her appreciation to all the ladies. At the counter, she ordered a large coffee and a bottle of lukewarm water. She balanced them away from Isabella on the way to the car. After opening the rear door and placing Isabella in the car seat, she mixed a bottle, half-expecting Miss Ella to see the delay as ample time to come out and talk about Jason or Jesus or both.
None of her life experiences had prepared her for Jason Snyder and these ladies.
Within eight minutes, she found the Snyders’ two-story home. Two oak rocking chairs with burnt-orange pillows sat empty on the front porch with a “Welcome to fall” appeal. Green plants dotted the white porch. Simply cozy, and she hoped the subtle invitation was an indication of the type of people living inside.
“Isabella, your grandparents live in an adorable home, almost as adorable as you.” She exited the car and adjusted her purse and diaper bag onto her shoulder. No extra hands to take her coffee, so she set it on the roof of the car. Oh, well. With a click of the harness to release Isabella, April drew the baby into her arms. After not being around babies, her heart had been . . . handcuffed, and she wasn’t ready to drop Isabella off and head back to Houston. The other problem centered on Willis threatening Jason’s family and her persuading the couple to leave the area.
The front door opened, and an older couple rushed toward them.
“You have Isabella.” The woman’s voice resounded with a mix of joy and a sob. Tall and slender, with shoulder-length blonde hair, Jason’s mother wasn’t at all like April pictured. April had stereotyped her as short, round, and wearing an apron.
“Yes, and she’s just fine. I’m FBI Agent April Ramos. Jason asked me to deliver her and explain the events of the past several hours.”
“I’m Vicki Snyder and this is my husband, Ted.” She took Isabella, leaving April with feelings of relief and jealousy. Vicki bit her lip, no doubt to conceal emotion. “We were afraid we might never see her again.”
“I’m so sorry for your heartache.”
Ted Snyder stuck out his hand, and she grasped it. Medium height and full head of dark-brown hair. Same color of eyes as Jason.
“Thanks for returning our baby girl, Agent Ramos,” he said.
“You’re welcome. And please call me April.”
He grabbed her coffee and closed the car door. “We have much to discuss.”
“I agree. Miss Isabella just finished a bottle, but she’s still hungry.”
Vicki snuggled her granddaughter. “I have plenty of baby food. Jason keeps me stocked.”
Isabella reached for April. Should she take the baby from her grandmother? Vicki smiled and relinquished her to April. “You have a friend . . . and she’s particular.”
The moment April stepped into the Snyder home, any apprehensions flittered away. Absent of clutter and decorated in blue and white, the home felt like a retreat. In a large, updated farmhouse-style kitchen, Vicki encouraged her to place Isabella in the high chair. Soon the baby had green beans and banana slices to eat with her fingers. April had a notepad and pen at her fingertips.
Vicki and Ted scooted their chairs close to the kitchen table. He started the conversation. “Two FBI agents have already been here asking a truckload of questions, sometimes rephrased two and three times. They thought we could lead them to you and Jason. Left a business card and said they’d be in touch.” He reached into his pocket, pulled a card from his wallet, and read a special agent’s name. After she verified knowing the agent, he replaced the card. “Have you contacted your office?”
She nodded. “They’re aware of the situation and my plans to bring Isabella here.”
“Are you and Jason friends? The missus and I are confused about how you got involved. Did he phone the FBI and request assistance, like a help desk?”
“Not exactly. I’m a hostage negotiator when needed. Otherwise I work public corruption.” April described how an unknown woman had shoved Isabella into her arms in a donut shop. “Isabella was shivering, so I wrapped her in my FBI jacket. While I waited, not sure what to do, a man comes up to me and says he’s the baby’s father.” She glossed over the details of the encounter, wanting to spare Jason’s parents from any more angst. “I accompanied him outside to get the diaper bag. We drove to my home to talk.”
“Hold on.” Ted waved his hand. “You’re soft-pedaling here. You’re an FBI agent. I’m thinking Jason forced you to go with him.”
The truth? “He didn’t give me a choice, and he explained how he’d tracked Isabella. He also gave me an accounting of what happened leading up to Russell Edwards’s death.”
Ted frowned, resembling Jason.
Vicki spoke up. “Maybe Jason’s decision to force April to go with him was God’s way of ensuring she learned the truth.”
“Don’t think so.” Ted’s voice lowered. “Jason may have been frantic, but taking April without her consent is downright wrong.”
At least Ted hadn’t asked her if she was held at gunpoint, but he probably figured it out. “Jason apologized, and the situation is behind us. When Sheriff Lennox called, Jason placed the phone on speaker. The sheriff’s comments were not what I expected from a law enforcement official.” April added that Jason had come down with a migraine and decided to stop for some needed rest at a motel, where Sheriff Lennox unexpectedly showed up. “For the second time, Sheriff Lennox demonstrated inappropriate behavior. Jason overpowered him and asked me to take Isabella to you. He used the sheriff’s handcuffs to restrain him. I stopped at a restaurant downtown, and a lady by the name of Miss Ella gave me your address.”
“This is a complicated situation,” Ted said. “Jason made Willis mad, but he neglected to tell me how. Then Russell’s killed, and our boy is slammed with false murder charges.”
The Snyders weren’t the only ones grappling for intel. “Vicki and Ted, I believe Jason is innocent of murder. I’ll do all I can to help exonerate him and find who killed Russell Edwards.”
14
APRIL INHALED THE CALM wafting through the Snyder h
ome. She’d instantly liked Jason’s parents, and if her instincts were accurate, they were fine people.
“Thanks for believing in our son,” Vicki said with a quivering smile. “You are an answer to prayer. How can we help him?”
April turned to smile at Isabella. Such a beautiful baby, one who’d stolen her heart. “The three of you are in danger. Willis threatened Isabella, and we both know that could involve you.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time Willis knocked down someone who got in his way,” Ted said.
He might be referring to Russell. Were there others? “Who?”
“Plenty of folks.”
“You?”
“I’ve crossed his path a couple of times.” Ted stared at Vicki. “Willis came by here after the so-called jailbreak and wanted to know where to find Jason. I had no idea. Wouldn’t have told him anyway. He said he’d given orders not to kill our son ’cause he wanted him to stand trial for Russell’s murder.”
“How’d you respond?”
“Not a word. No point in arguing with him. He left wearing his trademark smirk.”
“I’ve seen it,” she said. “Have you been approached by his deputies since then?”
“A deputy’s parked down the street,” Ted said. “Saw his truck earlier.” Anger creased his features. “I walked right up to him and asked him why he was wasting taxpayers’ money watching the comings and goings of law-abiding citizens. He used to be our paperboy. Never had a lick of common sense. Some days we got our paper, and some days he didn’t feel like delivering it. But he was always there to pick up his money.”
She grabbed the pen. “Name?”
“Cal Bunion, just like on your big toe.”
“His response?” April jotted down the deputy’s name.
“Cal told me Jason was a killer, and he had orders to shoot him on sight. So Willis wasn’t blowing smoke earlier.”
“How many terms has he served as county sheriff?”
“Two. Deputy before that,” Ted said. “We heard he either paid or threatened voters. Not us, though.”