Golden Trail

by Ashley, Kristen

  “Then don’t but my boys are huntin’,” Layne returned and his eyes went to Jasper. “Shower. Charger. You go to Giselle’s house, you get a list from her Mom and Dad I asked them to make, you call and you visit every one of her friends. You make those girls talk. They heard anything from Giselle, anything, you report it back to me.”

  “Right,” Jasper said instantly.

  “You see TJ Gaines or his car while you’re out, you report it to me. You don’t go in. You don’t follow him. You get the fuck out of there, call and report where you saw him or his car, get me?” Layne went on.

  “Got you,” Jasper replied.

  “I fucked up,” Tripp whispered and Layne’s eyes cut to his youngest.

  “Get that outta your head,” he ordered.

  Tripp shook his head, taking a step back, pulling from Layne’s hand but running into his brother so he stopped. “I fucked up. I was bein’ stupid. Selfish. I thought she was playin’ games with me. I shoulda said something. I thought she was –”

  Layne hooked his son behind the neck and pulled him forward, bending slightly to get in his face. “I fucked up, Tripp. I did it. I knew better than to finesse this. You’re fourteen years old and you were doin’ what you were told. You did good, you did right and now you gotta keep your shit together and help me find your girl.”

  Tripp didn’t believe him. Tripp liked this girl. Tripp was scared as shit. Layne knew it and seeing it in his boy’s eyes, it tore him up.

  But he couldn’t dwell. He needed to move.

  He gave Tripp’s neck a squeeze, straightened and looked at Jasper.

  “Shower. Charger,” he ordered, his eyes sliced through Fullerton, he turned and he walked out of the natatorium.

  * * * * *

  Layne was in his Suburban, making his fourth pass around the Christian Church when his phone rang. His neck was tight, he was pissed he had so little intel on Gaines he had no clue where to look.

  He grabbed the phone off the passenger seat, looked at the display and put it to his ear.

  “What you got for me, Dev?”

  “Cell number the reverend gave you binged. We got his location. Ryker rendez vous’ed at the office to report in, he was here when I locked on the GPS signal and we moved out, on our way now. Ryker says ETA is ten minutes.”

  “Give me a location,” Layne ordered.

  Devin gave him the location and the location surprised him, since it was on Colt and Cal’s street, not only on their street, next door to Cal, directly across the street from Colt, then Dev stated, “We’re not waitin’.”

  “Don’t,” Layne returned, cutting through the parking lot to do a uey to the alley so he could hit Main and back up Devin and Ryker. “I’m five minutes behind. See you there.”

  “Copy that. Out,” Devin grunted and Layne heard the disconnect.

  He flipped his phone shut and was in the process of tossing it to his passenger seat when it rang. He twisted it in his hand, looked at the display, flipped it back open and put it to his ear.

  “Sweetcheeks, now is not a good time,” he said into the phone.

  “Your Mom and me are on our way to Giselle,” Rocky said back and Layne’s chest seized.

  “No you’re not,” he growled.

  “Yes, we are, Layne,” she shot back. “I’ve been calling her all morning, leaving messages. She picked one up and she called me back. She says she’s alone, hiding out, scared to death. She says she only wants me. No one else but me.”

  Good news was, Giselle was alive and able to make calls on her phone. Bad news was, Layne’s woman was a nut.

  “Where is she?” Layne asked.

  “Two two three Rosemary Avenue. A girlfriend’s house. I know this girl, her parents took her out of school, her Grandma’s sick and not going to make it. They all flew to Florida to be with her, their house is empty.”

  Two two three Rosemary Avenue was not where Devin and Ryker were heading.

  “You know this is where this girl lives?” Layne asked.

  “No, but that’s where Giselle says she is and we’re headed there,” Rocky answered.

  Fuck.

  “Where is it?” Layne asked.

  “The Sunny Hills development, toward Clermont.”

  Layne knew it.

  “I’ll go, you go back to the house,” Layne ordered.

  “She told me not to tell anyone. She’s scared to death, Layne. She told me she’ll only open the door to me.”

  “I’ll go, you go back to the house,” Layne repeated, clipped this time.

  “She’s terrified, Layne!”

  “What did I tell you about doin’ stupid shit?” Layne bit out.

  “She’s alone and she’s scared,” Rocky snapped back.

  “You think, maybe, she isn’t alone? You think maybe she’s sayin’ somethin’ someone’s tellin’ her to say?” Layne gritted through his teeth.

  Rocky was silent.

  Then she said, “We won’t approach. We’ll recon the area and stop at a side road. Your Mom’s driving because my car is a two seater. They won’t know the car even if they see it. You go in first. She’s not alone, that’s yours. She is, I come in and that’s mine. Deal?”

  Recon the area? Jesus.

  “Deal,” Layne replied because he had no time to talk her out of something she was determined to do and, making matters worse, Vera was acting sidekick which meant Layne had zero chance of talking both of them down.

  He was rethinking his maneuver of reuniting his Ma with Roc when he flipped his phone shut, opened it and called Dev.

  When he flipped his phone shut on the call to Dev, he opened it and called Merry.

  * * * * *

  “You don’t have backup,” Rocky whispered through the window.

  “Merry’s on his way, not five minutes out,” Layne said back, glanced at Vera then his eyes went back to Rocky. “It’s all good, I’ll take it slow and won’t take chances.”

  “Layne –” Rocky whispered.

  “Keep your phone in your hand, your eyes peeled.” His gaze went to his mother. “Car on, Mom, hand on the gearshift, anything goes down, you’re gone.”

  Vera, eyes wide and lips pressed together, nodded.

  “Layne –” Rocky repeated, still whispering.

  Layne locked eyes with her.

  “Be back, sweetcheeks,” he whispered back, turned away and started to move through backyards.

  It was broad daylight but it was cold, overcast, the air heavy with an impending rain that was going to be chilly – no one was out barbequing, mowing their lawn, gardening, playing with their dogs. That didn’t mean no one saw him. It was doubtful if they did they’d confront him. They’d call the police. Layne was counting on that. Confrontation would be bad, a waste of time. Cops he could handle.

  He counted down the house numbers and as he did he thanked God that no one in this development had put up fences, undoubtedly an HOA restriction, open space was attractive, a variety of fencing not so much. Rosemary Avenue’s numbers started on the opposite end of the street, Rocky and Vera had done a drive through and reported they ended in house number two thirty-five. Two twenty-three was seven houses in, no cars in the drive and no movement they could see when they drove by.

  Layne approached two twenty-three keeping out of sight behind a big pine tree. He skirted the tree and looked in the windows. Blinds and curtains pulled.

  Fuck.

  He waited seconds and did so as he watched for movement, the blinds flipping up or the curtains pulled back for someone to look out.

  Nothing.

  He moved around the tree and quickly to the house. Back to it then he ran bent double under the windows to the French doors that led to a low patio.

  Curtains pulled on the doors, he moved to them and silently tried the doorknob.

  Locked.

  He crouched, pulling his kit out of his back jeans pocket, he picked the lock.

  The owners needed a new lock. It took him less than thi
rty seconds.

  He put the kit back in his jeans and pulled his gun out of the holster at his belt.

  The flashback hit him and it hit him hard.

  Ambush.

  When he got shot, he’d infiltrated one of Rutledge’s crime scenes. He was looking for evidence Rutledge missed in his report. Merry said the work had been shoddy, every cop in that Department knew it, but none of them could go back to the scene to follow up on Rutledge’s work without Rutledge knowing he’d been made.

  Rutledge set him up. Fucked up the case because he knew someone would feed it to Layne and Layne would be looking.

  This could be the same thing with Giselle Speakmon caught in the crossfire.

  Fuck.

  He flipped off the safety, sucked in breath, slowly turned the handle and opened the door just enough for him to get through.

  Nothing. No alarm, no sound, no movement.

  He slid in, swiftly and silently closed the door and crouched low.

  Still nothing.

  Quietly, he moved through the family room into the living room seeing they were clear, through to the front, across the foyer into the dining room. Clear. Back into the kitchen. Clear.

  No noise. No movement.

  Back through the family room, living room and into the foyer, putting his back against the wall, gun up, eyes up, he crept up the stairs.

  He made it to the top, doors all around, all of them closed. Sitting duck.

  Fuck.

  A door opened slightly, Layne’s gut squeezed and he pointed his gun to it, crouched low and moved to the opposite side of the landing, shoulder to wall.

  He waited.

  Nothing.

  Then it flew open and Giselle Speakmon darted out of it. She ran straight to him then tried to get around him. His arm went out, he caught her at the waist, she screamed and he straightened, picking her up, clean off her feet, he strode to the door closest to him, opened it, entered, gun up, then he slammed the door, went down to the ground, Giselle in front of him, still screaming, he rolled over her and came up, scanned the room, eyes and gun pointed at each corner.

  Empty.

  Giselle was on the move behind him he turned and grabbed her, pulling her to him.

  “No!” she shrieked.

  “Giselle, honey, it’s me. Mr. Layne. You here alone?”

  She was struggling against his grip and he was having trouble controlling her because he didn’t want to drop his gun.

  She got free, planted a foot to run but he caught her forearm, pulled her to him and got in her face. “Giselle, calm down. Are you here alone?”

  “I won’t do it again!” she cried, shaking her head, twisting her arm against his grip.

  Shit.

  “Honey, calm down, you’re safe. Your Dad sent me.”

  “I won’t do it again! I won’t! I won’t!”

  Layne yanked her close, wrapped an arm around her and backed up, keeping her close and pulling her away from the door.

  “You don’t have to do it again, honey, you never have to do it again. I promise. It’s over. Never again,” he whispered.

  He heard movement in the hall and so did Giselle. Her head whipped toward the door and Layne pushed her behind him and trained his gun on the door.

  Slowly the door opened, Layne aimed, the door opened further then he saw Merry’s head jump in view as he cased the room then it disappeared.

  Then it came back and Merry slid into the room, closing the door.

  Giselle pressed into his back.

  Layne dropped his gun and whispered, “Got Giselle. We need to check the upstairs is clear.”

  Merry nodded.

  “I’m alone,” Giselle whispered from behind him and Layne turned, dropped into a crouch and got close to her face.

  “You’re alone?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Why are you here alone, Giselle?” Layne asked.

  She shook her head, stepped back and ran into the bed. Her body got still and she stared at him.

  “Rocky,” she whispered.

  “I’ll call Roc,” Merry murmured and Layne stood.

  “No, Merry, we gotta check the house. I want to make sure it’s clear before Rocky gets here.”

  Merry nodded.

  “I’m alone,” Giselle repeated and Layne looked down at her.

  “We’re just going to check,” Layne said as he heard Merry moving through the room, opening the closet doors. “You stay here, keep that door closed, don’t go anywhere, stay quiet, yeah?”

  She nodded.

  Layne’s eyes moved to Merry then they moved out.

  “I want eyes on this door, Merry,” Layne whispered after they closed it. “She could make a break for it.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know. Somethin’ tweaked her.”

  Merry nodded. “I already checked down.”

  “I did too.”

  “You in or out?”

  “In, you’re on the door.”

  Merry nodded again and Layne nodded back.

  Layne opened doors and Merry didn’t leave the landing. He entered the rooms, checked closets and bathrooms and came back out.

  “Clear,” he said after the last one. “Call Roc. Then call Colt.”

  Merry nodded, holstered his weapon and reached for his phone.

  Layne went to Giselle.

  * * * * *

  “He’s in your office,” Devin said into Layne’s ear.

  Devin and Ryker picked up TJ Gaines.

  “Good,” Layne replied, his eyes on Rocky who was crouched in front of Giselle and Giselle was sitting on the bed in the room he’d taken her to. He was standing with Merry and Vera out on the landing, his mother slightly removed. She was talking to Wade and Adele Speakmon, telling them their girl was safe.

  Layne couldn’t hear anything from the room. All he could see was Giselle whispering and Rocky nodding.

  “You get her?” Layne asked Devin.

  “Not her. He was with another her. He was gettin’ a blowjob from some woman Ryker says is named Tina Blackstone. You know her?”

  Tina Blackstone. Shit. Everyone knew her and everyone knew to avoid her.

  But Tina Blackstone wasn’t Giselle’s age. Tina was older than Rocky.

  “You sure it was Tina Blackstone?” Layne asked.

  “Don’t know her, boy, but Ryker does. He called her that, she answered to it so, yeah, sure enough.”

  “Tina Blackstone’s got a big fuckin’ mouth, Dev,” Layne told him.

  “And your boy Ryker has a persuasive way about him, Tanner. Trust me, the bitch won’t talk.”

  Well, at least that was good.

  “You want us to sit on him or you want us to get him to talk?” Devin asked.

  “Sit on him. Let me see what’s happenin’ here,” Layne answered. “But forward thinkin, you need to make him talk, use Ryker. Let him loose. No rules. Scare the piss out of him. He needs to be more afraid of us than that bitch he works for but no visible marks,” Layne instructed.

  “Tanner,” Merry whispered and Layne’s eyes cut to him.

  “You didn’t hear that,” Layne whispered back.

  “We makin’ a double agent here?” Devin asked but he knew, he was clarifying.

  “That bitch know we got him?” Layne asked.

  “Far’s I know, no,” Devin answered.

  “I’ll call when I know more. He may walk out of there in cuffs or we may need him. We need him and you can’t break him, again, he walks out of there in cuffs. You can, he’s just switched sides.”

  “Oh,” Devin whispered, “we’ll break him.”

  Disconnect.

  Layne flipped his phone shut.

  “Brother,” Merry murmured and Layne looked at him.

  “We rush this, we take him down and him alone. We turn him, we get her and Rutledge.”

  Merry got close. “This may have escaped you, Tanner, but we got a tweaked teenaged girl in there. Her parents are gonna blow t
his and you do not want your end messy.”

  “I know her parents are gonna blow this, Merry, that’s because it’s blown. But if I make a mess, you gotta do what you gotta do to clean it up and you gotta keep a close eye on Rutledge if he hasn’t already disappeared. He intercepted the missing person call last night. Went to the Speakmons’ house alone then sat on it.”

  Merry’s brows went up.

  “Yeah, you haven’t heard about it means he didn’t share. You got a teenaged girl missin’ in this ‘burg, every cop in the Department will know and every one of them would be on the hunt. Whatever happened, they thought she was gonna blow them. He intercepted that call means he knew the Speakmons would call it in. That means he was waitin’ for it. That means somethin’ happened last night with at least Gaines, maybe the woman. He can’t hide his shit anymore, Merry. That proves he’s linked to at least Gaines. We got them both. Gaines comes in limpin’, that’s the least of your worries.”

  Merry got closer, “I want Rutledge out now.”

  “I got no problem with her losin’ her protection,” Layne returned. “But you call it out now, you have to open an investigation. You got dirt, he’ll need to explain, boys’ll be lookin’ over their shoulders, whisperin’ but that shit takes a long time, Merry. And he’ll bolt but, like I said, he could have already bolted. You hold out, we get what she’s got on him, he’s never seen again.”

  “Then no investigation, I’m just swingin’ my ass out on this right alongside yours, brother. I want him just as tweaked as that girl is in there,” Layne studied him and Merry nodded. “Yeah, brother, I heard her.” He leaned in closer and his voice dropped lower. “I fuckin’ heard her.”

  “Means you could get dead and I could get dead,” Layne whispered back.

  “His desk is beside mine,” Merry hissed.

  Jesus, the Merricks.

  “Patience, Garrett.” Layne kept whispering.

  “She said, ‘I won’t do it again,’.” Merry reminded him.

  “Patience, brother. We’re close.”

  “I want this done,” Merry repeated his sister’s words of that morning.

  Layne leaned to an inch away from his friend. “I do to, Merry but cool it. Let’s see what she has to say. Then we’ll decide the way to play it.”