“It took us four hours to get here. How did Mr. Blackwell know this was the last place the hunters were seen? He couldn’t possibly have made that climb.”
Dadron finished his sandwich, washing it down with half the bottle of water. “I found tracks where a man was tied to a tree. Another one was dragged across the ground. There are still specks of blood on the rocks around that area, and there are four sets of footprints. Three of them headed up the trail.”
“And Mr. Blackwell?”
Dadron reached into his backpack. “Someone gave him a nice pair of high-powered binoculars. There’s a road that runs along the creek, and Neta was gathering plants from the field below us. He watched the three as they set up camp for the night.”
“You mean we could have driven this far, or at least gotten closer, without that grueling four-hour climb?”
“We came in the way the hunters came in and the way they would have to go out if they left. They didn’t. Are you gonna eat the rest of that sandwich?”
Loki passed him her half-eaten ham and cheese and stood to dust herself off. “You’re like a human garbage disposal.”
“Growing boy. In another week I’ll be legal to drink in public.”
How did I forget their birthday? And it wasn’t just any birthday, it was their twenty-first birthday.
Dadron laughed softly. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
Loki picked up the pack and jiggled it until it rested comfortably on her back. “Of course not, but if Jake is still in the hospital, we’ll have to delay the party a few days. Are you ready? I’d like to put some distance between us and this place before we set up camp for the night.”
They traveled in silence for the next two miles until Dadron held up a hand.
“What is it?” Loki asked.
“They met someone else here. Two sets of tracks go east, and two sets go west.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would they split up? Do you think they set the hunters free?”
“It actually makes a lot of sense. They had to expect someone to come looking eventually, and this way whoever is looking may find one, but they’ll still have to look for the other one. By splitting them up, they bought themselves some extra time.”
“Or they thought they could split the search party into two groups, evening the fighting odds.”
Dadron nodded. “Mr. Blackwell spent a lot of time here as a young man. There’s a small stream with a spring at the head about a mile south of here. A nice place to set up camp for the night, and it will be close to dusk by the time we get there.”
“But you said they went east and west?”
“They did. I want them to think we lost the trail. That way they come to us.”
Loki followed him down a small barren trail of dust and small stones, her eyes vigilant for any sign of movement around them. If Dadron was right, then someone was watching. If she weren’t so worried about Jake, she would have picked up on that earlier. A small smile played on her lips. One thing she did know—whoever had shot Jake was going to be very sorry now that Harry had entered the picture. One of them alone was good, but when they put their heads together, they were unstoppable.
Harry parked in front of the small one-story brick home, his hands clutching the wheel as his eyes narrowed. The vandalism of the Cain home was atrocious and a clear indication of the hatred brewing. A small white Toyota pulled up behind him, and Harry exited. “Mrs. Cain?”
She nodded, her Adam’s apple bobbing as she swallowed and mist filling her already red and swollen eyes. “I hope you won’t be long.”
“It shouldn’t take but a few minutes. I would like to talk to you, though. Where are you staying?”
“Kirby’s partner, Don Ashton, is letting us use his basement for a few days until we can get things settled. You can follow me there when you’re finished.” She walked to the front door and pushed it open. “I brought the keys, but I guess we don’t need them.”
“Why don’t you let me go in first?”
The trampled flowers, broken windows, and spray-painted curse words on the outside of the home were bad, but the inside had risen to a whole new level of nastiness. Furniture had been broken, or shredded and covered in red paint. Nothing was salvageable. Kirby Cain might have killed three officers, but his wife and children were innocent of any crime. Harry heard her quiet sobs behind him. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Cain. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have asked you to meet me here.”
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I had to come back eventually. My husband’s office is in the back. I’ll show you.”
Harry stepped over the debris in the hallway. His hopes of finding anything in the office were dwindling with each room he passed.
Mrs. Cain stopped outside a steel door with a combination lock. “This was also our safe room in case Kirby wasn’t home and someone broke in. We used it the first night after the shootings. Would you mind if I waited for you in the car?”
“No, ma’am, you go ahead. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Merriweather had said Jake found the photos hidden in a desk drawer, but Cain didn’t have a desk. The room consisted of a couch, bookshelf, and large-screen TV. Harry was pretty sure the mattress on the floor wasn’t a part of Cain’s original room design. Where would I hide something I didn’t want my wife and children to find?
The bookshelf was loaded with criminal law books and a few histories of Mississippi. None of them would be interesting to his wife or children, but that didn’t mean they might not open the books. The couch was definitely out. Mrs. Cain would have moved it to clean. He gazed at the large-screen TV mounted flush against the wall. She might have dusted it and cleaned the screen, but it would have been too heavy for her to take down. Lifting it from the bottom, he grunted slightly then slowly lowered it to the floor. Taped to the back was a small manila envelope.
Harry propped the TV against the wall and opened the envelope. Two photographs of Mrs. Cain and their three children were inside. The words scrawled across the pictures were identical to those on the Wilson photographs. Jake was right. Someone was behind this. It wouldn’t matter if they fired or laid off all the Choctaw officers in Mississippi. The killings would continue until whoever was behind the threats was stopped.
Harry closed the door, spun the lock, and made his way to his vehicle. He didn’t want Mrs. Cain to have to look at the vandalism any longer than necessary. She waved as she backed out and waited for him to follow her.
Checking in with Merriweather, Harry followed Mrs. Cain to Don Ashton’s residence. The news that Jake’s fever had broken and he was resting peacefully went a long way to assuage his anger. It had been lurking just below the surface ever since Harry had seen the condition of the Cain residence. He understood the bond between officers. When one was killed, it was like losing a brother. What he didn’t understand was how anyone could spew that kind of hatred toward women and children.
The Ashton home was a two-story Colonial sitting on about an acre. A cluster of Indigo Bush trees had been planted on both sides, and their purple blooms painted an attractive and feminine picture. Unlike the Cain residence, the home exuded peace and serenity. Harry liked Don Ashton already, and he hadn’t even met the man yet. The fact that he had opened his heart and his home to his partner’s wife amid such open hostility was enough for Harry.
A tall, thin man with a tinge of gray in his hair stepped onto the porch as Harry parked on the circular driveway. It took only a little imagination to see the horse-drawn carriages pulling up to the house with beautiful ladies dressed in their finest attire. Harry approached, put at ease by the friendly smile. “Mr. Ashton?”
“Please, call me Don. My wife is setting up a tray of refreshments and drinks on the veranda. I hope you’ll join me.”
“Thank you, sir. I’d love to.”
The veranda overlooked a small fishpond filled with exotic colors. “You have a lovely home, Don.”
“I’m afraid I can’t t
ake credit for that. It’s been in my family for about a hundred years. Passed down to the oldest son in each household.” Don poured two tall glasses of tea and passed one to Harry. “Please, have one of the club sandwiches. Otherwise my wife will think I’m a poor host, and I won’t hear the last of it until well after midnight.”
Harry laughed and reached for a sandwich. “Well, I’m starved, and I certainly wouldn’t want you to have to go through that.”
“Sharon told me about the house. Heartbreaking for her and those kids. I don’t suppose you found anything that would help us understand this. Kirby Cain was one of the most decent men I’ve ever met. To be honest with you, Harry, a part of me died with him on that asphalt.”
“How long were you partners?”
“Eight years.”
Harry took the photos from his pocket and placed them on the table. “Someone was threatening his family.”
Don picked up the pictures with a trembling hand. Harry concentrated on the sandwich and his tea, giving Ashton time to compose himself. “We found similar photos at Rafe Wilson’s home in Tunica. We believe someone threatened to kill their families unless they did what they were told.”
“Why?”
It wasn’t a question he expected Harry to answer but more an anguished cry for understanding.
“I don’t have the answers to that yet, but you have my promise I won’t stop looking until I do. Did Mr. Cain say anything to you or act any different in the days prior to the incident?”
Don shook his head. “He might have been a little quieter than usual, but Kirby was a good cop. In eight years, I never knew him to be late or take a sick day. He took a bullet for me three years ago. We came up on a burglary in progress. I was in the direct line of fire when the guns started blazing. Kirby shoved me out of the way. He could have died, but that’s just the kind of man he was.”
“How are things at work?”
“Tense on a good day, hostile and angry on bad ones. I can tell you this, whoever is harassing Sharon, it’s not one of us. We’re grieving four fallen brothers, not just three.” He passed the pictures to Harry and stood. “Now that we know about this, we can start looking for the real killer, the one who made Kirby do it. If there’s anything the department can do to help you, all you have to do is ask.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you not to mention this to anyone for a day or so. Give us a chance to look at a few more things.”
“That’s an awfully big favor you’re asking, son. That information would go a long way in helping the officers who had to kill Kirby heal. Give them something to channel their anger toward. And the captain could argue for Sharon and the kids with the pension board. The way things stand right now, they’re going to to lose everything Kirby worked for.”
“I’m heading back to Tunica now to put all this together with my partner. Give us twenty-four hours.”
Don held out his hand, and Harry gripped it in a firm shake. “You remind me of Kirby. I’ll give you twenty-four hours but not one minute more.”
“Thank you. Whoever is behind this either has connections to the police force or wide-reaching tentacles. Jake Savior just started asking questions the day before yesterday. He was shot yesterday morning as he was leaving his motel. I understand how you feel about Kirby. Jake was my partner in Corpus Christi for five years. This is now personal for me too.”
Don pulled a card from his billfold and jotted down his cell phone number. “You find this guy, you call me. I can have five men ready to go anytime day or night. I’ll go get Sharon for you. She said you wanted to talk to her too.”
Harry slipped the card into his shirt pocket. “Don’t. She’s been through enough today. If I need anything else, I’ll call you.”
“You be careful out there, son. If they shot your partner, they’ll probably be gunning for you too.”
The thought had crossed Harry’s mind, but instead of scaring him, it had only fueled his rage. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a pretty hard guy to kill.”
14
Loki filled the empty water bottles from the spring while Dadron built a fire and set up the camp. A variety of trees lined the banks of the creek, and the Southern magnolias were just beginning to bloom. In a few more weeks they would dot the countryside with white petals. She could almost enjoy being here if weren’t for the situation—and if Jake was with her. She shivered as the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Someone is watching me.
“Loki, what do you want for dinner?”
Dadron must have felt it too. Their only choice for dinner was to finish off the sandwiches before they ruined. They’d have to forage for food tomorrow, but they’d planned on that. She loaded the bottles into the backpack and stood. “We’ve still got sandwiches. We’ll have those tonight and call it a day. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to pick up the trail after a good night’s sleep.” She forced herself to take unhurried steps to the camp, her right hand less than an inch from the knife on her belt. “I didn’t expect them so soon,” Loki whispered as she dropped the backpack then picked up the coffeepot and filled it.
“We’re probably safe until it gets totally dark. Let’s eat and get some rest. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
They ate in silence as the sun set and the night came alive around them. “I hate instant coffee.” Loki swatted at a swarm of gnats buzzing around her cup. “And I hate these damn bugs.”
“I saw a couple of wild pigs earlier. Razorbacks. That’s what I hate the most. You never know exactly what they’re going to do.”
Loki tossed the rest of the coffee and stood. “I’m going to try to catch a few hours’ sleep. Wake me before midnight, and I’ll take second watch.”
Dadron didn’t answer, and she crawled inside the tiny tent he’d constructed. The ground was hard, but she fell asleep almost instantly, her dreams coming fast and filled with images of dark flowing shadows.
Lo-ke-ah.
The whispered hiss awakened her, and Loki lay perfectly still, listening. A rustling sound came from outside, followed almost immediately by a rattle. Her heart was pounding, and she knew now what had scared Tim Whitefeather to the point of putting him in a fear-induced coma. The legend of Nalusa Falaya stated that he often approached men on his belly, like a snake. Neta’s sweet voice filled her head, quieting her raging heartbeat. The darkness feeds on fear. We see and hear things that aren’t really there. Control the fear.
The sharp report of rifle fire spurred her into action. She grabbed her knife and pulled back the flap. “Dadron?”
It was pitch dark outside, and the fire had died down to nothing but a few small coals. Footsteps pounded away from the tent, and Loki peered through the darkness, making out the dark shape of a tall, thin man. “Dadron, where are you?”
Something crashed through brush near the creek, and the rifle fired again. “Dadron!”
The clouds parted, and moonlight flooded the area as a figure appeared between the trees. “I’m okay, Loki. I think I nicked him.”
Bending forward, she placed her hands on her knees and breathed hard. Dadron jogged up beside her. “Sorry I woke you.”
“Damn you, Dadron Redmond, don’t you ever go off like that again. You scared ten years off my life.” Loki dropped the knife and pounded on his chest with both fists.
Wrapping his arms around her, Dadron held her until the anger subsided then handed her the rifle. “I’m going to get some sleep now. I don’t think he’ll come back tonight. We can pick up his trail in the morning.”
“Sleep.” Loki grumbled and tossed sticks onto the coals before filling the coffeepot with fresh water. “He scares the life out of me, and he’s just going to lie down and sleep.”
Deep snores came from the tent within seconds. Loki sat on the ground near the fire, the rifle cradled across her thighs as she waited for the water to boil. Whoever was out there didn’t want to kill them. At least not yet. And she was pretty sure the guy outside her tent wasn’
t a drug runner. She didn’t know why he’d tried to scare her, but she knew who was behind it. The only person who had ever called her Lokeah was her grandfather.
Thoughts of her grandfather were followed by thoughts of her parents. There had been no feast and no burning of the fire after their death. The children weren’t even told where their parents were buried, simply that their mother had dishonored the family. Loki had never told Jules or Dadron why she’d taken them and run away. And this wasn’t the first time the myth of Nalusa Falaya had surfaced as a threat to her family.
The night before they left, Loki had overheard her grandfather making plans to take Jules into the forest and leave him there to appease Nalusa Falaya for the sins of their mother. He’d ranted that the sins had cost him the life of his son and the fortune he was entitled to. She’d never understood what fortune he was talking about because her parents were poor, but she had understood the threat to Jules. Ancient Choctaw beliefs held that the sight of a ghost signaled a death, and they all knew Jules saw these spiritual figures. The entire tribe had shunned and feared him. None of them would have raised a finger to stop her grandfather and save Jules.
The darkness of night gradually lifted, turning the world around her gray. Spending those summers at Grandpa Zachery’s farm had saved her life. All the cultural knowledge she possessed came from him. Her gaze strayed to the tent. She hadn’t spoken Choctaw since she’d left the reservation. So how has Dadron become so fluent in the language?
The snores ended, and a few moments later Dadron opened the flap. “I’m starved, Loki. What’s for breakfast?”
“Coffee and the last of the sandwiches. We need to talk about last night.”
Dadron took the cup she extended. “I heard a noise near the creek and went to check it out. Must have been what he wanted because then he snuck up on you. He could have easily waited for me near the creek.”
“He wasn’t a drug runner, Dadron. When I woke, he was standing outside the tent, whispering my name. I heard rustling sounds, like snakes slithering through dried leaves.”
Innocent Blood: a gripping thriller that will have you hooked (Redmond Investigations Book 2) Page 8