Sheriff

by Laura Scott

  FIVE

  The force of the blast sent Brody flying backward into the motel room. But instead of hitting the hard floor, he landed on top of Julianne. He heard her grunt with pain and swiftly rolled off her.

  “I’m sorry, are you okay?” He ran his hands over her arms and legs, reassuring himself that she wasn’t hurt.

  She looked as if she was having trouble breathing, so he quickly helped her into an upright position. “Just—had—the wind knocked—out of me.”

  “Take it easy for a moment.” He held onto her with shaking hands, the close call hitting hard. What if he hadn’t seen the grenade right away? They both would have been killed by the blast.

  For a moment, Julianne leaned against him as if seeking strength. He held her close, burying his face in her long dark hair, reveling in the honeysuckle scent. This was what he’d missed in the years they’d been apart.

  She was back in Clover with him at the moment, but only for the duration of the case. A case where she was in constant danger because she’d witnessed the prison break.

  He couldn’t bear the thought of her being hurt, or worse.

  Thunder came over to lick Julianne’s face, causing her to chuckle weakly. “Good boy,” she said, giving the dog a one-armed hug.

  Tearing himself away from her wasn’t easy, but Brody forced himself to rise to his feet. He went to the doorway, surveying the damage. A small patch of the dry grass in the field on the other side of the road was on fire, but other than that, it didn’t look as if anyone had been hit. He didn’t see any damaged cars on the highway either.

  Julianne came over to stand beside him. “God was watching over us,” she said in a low, husky voice.

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t deny her sentiment. This entire incident could have been so much worse. “The bloody towels were nothing more than a trap.”

  “I know. But we had to investigate, Brody. That’s our job.”

  “We need to search the area, see if Thunder can pick up his trail.” He curled his hands into fists, wanting very badly to get the slimeball in custody.

  She put a hand on his arm, squinting at the highway. “Wait a minute. See that black vehicle heading west, leaving a trail of dust behind? I wonder if that’s him, trying to get away.”

  “Let’s go.” Brody ran for his police vehicle, grateful Julianne and Thunder quickly followed. The gunman’s truck had a huge head start, but he couldn’t just sit there doing nothing.

  He flipped on the red and blue lights on his SUV and planted his foot on the accelerator. The motor revved, and while he didn’t intend to drive recklessly, he pushed the speed as high as he dared, bound and determined to catch this perp.

  But it was no use. After fifteen miles, they came upon a four-way intersection in the road. Craning his neck, he looked at each stretch of road in sequence, searching for a sign of a black vehicle, but without success. There were rusty white cars, red pickup trucks and several other types of vehicles.

  But none he could pin as the black truck they’d been following.

  The jerk was probably hiding in plain sight, he thought with a snarl.

  Should he have Julianne work with a police artist, to get a sketch of the guy out in the public’s eye?

  Maybe.

  His radio squawked. “Sheriff?”

  He recognized Rick Meyer’s voice. “Yeah, go ahead, Rick.”

  “We’re approaching the motel, but I can see a small grass fire across the road.”

  “I’ll call the fire department and meet you at the motel.” He clicked the radio off then turned it on again. “Dispatch, send a fire truck to the Broke Spoke Motel off Highway T to contain a small grass fire.”

  “Will do.”

  He made a U-turn and headed back toward the Broke Spoke. They arrived shortly before his deputies and his guys went to work, gathering evidence and dusting for fingerprints.

  Thunder had alerted them to the fact that the gunman had been there, but he was hoping to get an ID on the perp. A strong possibility, since Brody felt sure this wasn’t his first criminal offense. And if that was the case, the guy’s prints would be in the system.

  Julianne was on the phone with her boss and he listened to her side of the conversation.

  “I’m fine, Max. Brody was in more danger than I was.”

  Brody scowled at her. “That’s not true, if you’d gone out the door first...” He couldn’t finish the thought.

  She waved him away. “You can’t pull me from the case. I’m the only eyewitness to the murder of the van driver!”

  Brody crossed his arms over his chest, his feelings playing tug-of-war with his heart.

  If Max pulled Julianne from the case, taking her far away from Texas, she’d be safe from harm. The last part of the plan made him happy, but the thought of her leaving so abruptly made him grind his teeth in frustration. If only...

  But no, his feelings for her, whatever they might be, didn’t matter. What was important was keeping Julianne safe.

  At the same time, she and Thunder were his best chance of finding Nate Otwell and the gunman.

  His problem, not hers. He’d just have to find a way to deal with it.

  He was so lost in his thoughts he missed the last part of her conversation with Max. She disconnected from the call and slipped her mobile phone into her pocket.

  “So when are you and Max heading out?” he asked matter-of-factly. “Today or tomorrow?”

  She stared at him as if he’d sprouted bat ears from his head. “What are you talking about? I’m not leaving. We need to find this guy before any more innocent people are put in harm’s way.”

  Relief warred with concern. “Listen, Julianne, it’s probably safer for you to leave—”

  “No,” she interrupted in a hard tone. “You have to stop doing this, Brody. I’m a trained FBI agent. Once I leave Texas, I’ll continue working the Dupree case until we find Morrow. This is my job, my career. If you can’t handle that, then we have nothing more to say to each other.”

  The steely determination in her deep brown gaze made him feel like an idiot. He wasn’t against having women in law enforcement.

  Just Julianne.

  Because despite everything that had transpired between them, he still cared about her, far more than he should.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He gave her a terse nod. “Far be it for me to stand in the way of your job.” He hoped the sarcasm in his tone wasn’t too obvious.

  “Good.”

  His radio buzzed and he took the call. “Kenner.”

  “Sheriff? We have a report of a break-in at the Paws and Claws Veterinary Clinic. Seems there may be supplies missing, bandages and the like. Possibly even medications.”

  The gunman, he thought. No doubt looking for something to take care of his injury. “Thanks, we’ll head right over.”

  “What’s going on?” Julianne asked.

  “A veterinary clinic outside of Clover has been broken into. It’s possible that our gunman used that as a place to seek refuge and tend to his wounds in order to avoid going to a hospital?”

  “Let’s go,” Julianne said, tugging on Thunder’s leash. “Thunder will let us know if the gunman or Nate were there.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Brody went into the room to talk to his deputies. “When you’re finished here, take the evidence straight to FBI Special Agent in Charge Max West at the Clover Inn. He’s going to send everything to Quantico for processing.”

  “Sounds good, boss,” Rick said.

  Dan scowled. “Nothin’ wrong with the state lab, is there?”

  Brody swallowed the urge to tell Hanson to get over himself. The guy’s attitude had never been great, but in the past twenty-four hours Deputy Hanson had been more surly than usual. “The feds are offering
their help, we’d be foolish not to take it. This is about getting Otwell and the gunman back behind bars as soon as possible. I’ll check in with you later.”

  Julianne and Thunder were waiting for him outside, near his SUV. As he slid behind the wheel, he hoped and prayed they weren’t heading into another trap.

  * * *

  Julianne spread her trembling hands on her legs, willing her heart rate to settle down to normal. This was nothing more than the physical response of adrenaline, after their close call.

  Not at all related to the way Brody had briefly held her in his arms.

  For a few seconds it was as if they were back in college, holding each other close as they gazed up at the stars in the deep, dark sky. She was hit by an intense longing to regain what had been shattered beyond repair six years ago.

  Her father had been a cop, one of the main reasons she’d earned a degree in criminal justice, going on to win a coveted spot in the FBI academy. After she and Brody had graduated from college together, it had bothered her immensely that Lilly still hadn’t contacted them or been found. After Brody hadn’t believed in her enough to listen to her concerns, she’d known he couldn’t possibly care about her as much as she’d loved him.

  Enough, she told herself. There was no point in wishing things had been different. She and Brody needed to work together in order to capture Nate and the gunman who’d helped him escape.

  Their personal feelings, especially the old anger and arguments they’d had, would only be a distraction, interfering with their ability to get the job done.

  Less than an hour later, Brody pulled into the parking lot of the Paws and Claws Veterinary Clinic. Julianne made sure she had both evidence bags before she let Thunder out of the back of Brody’s SUV.

  “The front door looks to be intact,” he said, waving at it with his hand. “Let’s go around to the back.”

  She nodded. They rounded the corner of the building. The back door, likely mostly used for supplies and employees, stood ajar, the frame dented and scarred as if someone had used their boot to kick their way inside.

  “Do you think we can get a shoe print from this?” Julianne hunkered down by the door, carefully examining the muddy partial print.

  “Good idea. Although it’s going to take some time. All my deputies are tied up either on roadblocks or at other crime scenes.”

  She nodded, understanding that his Clover County resources were already stretched thin. “We may be able to get an evidence collection team here from the Houston FBI office,” she told him. “That would speed things along.”

  To his credit, Brody didn’t hesitate. She knew it couldn’t be easy to invite the feds into his criminal case. “I’d appreciate any help we can get.”

  Julianne stood and walked away from the building to call Max. “Hey, can you smooth the way to get us assistance from the Houston office? Not just to process the evidence we’ve already found, but we could use additional crime scene techs to work our crime scenes.”

  “Scenes?” Max repeated. “As in more than one?”

  “Two at the moment, with possibly more to come. Otwell and his sidekick gunman have been busy.”

  “Sure, no problem. I’ll call the SAC in Houston. Tell me where you are.”

  Julianne gave her boss the name and location of the veterinary clinic. “Thanks, Max.”

  “Stay safe,” he responded, before disconnecting the call.

  Brody came over to stand beside her. “Are you and Thunder ready to go inside?”

  “Yes. We’ll use the gunman’s scent first, since he’s been injured and the one most likely to have broken in.” She pulled out the evidence bag containing the small scrap of fabric Thunder had retrieved. “Find, Thunder. Find.”

  Thunder took a long moment to fill his head with the scent from his target, then began searching the area for the shooter’s trail. He picked up the scene in the parking lot, following it around the building to the back doorway, where he alerted with a strong reaction.

  “Good boy, Thunder.” Julianne pushed the door open. “Find,” she repeated.

  Thunder continued inside the clinic, where he alerted again in the area where at least six cages were stacked. Only two were occupied, one containing a tabby cat, and another a toy poodle wearing the cone of shame to prevent him from licking his stitches.

  “Will he be distracted by the animals?” Brody asked in a hushed tone.

  She shook her head. Thunder was single-minded when it came to the hunt. Once she called him off, he’d probably head right over to the cages.

  Thunder alerted in front of a cabinet, the broken door hanging open, the contents spewed all over the place. “The gunman was here,” she said with certainty. “Looks as if he was looking for supplies and medications, but we’ll need the owner of the clinic to let us know exactly what’s missing.”

  “I’ll give Clark Davenport a call. He’s the veterinary assistant for Dr. Vanessa Grover. I’m sure he’s the one who does the stocking.”

  “Good. Where is the vet by the way?” Julianne asked.

  “I’m right here.” A woman with reddish-brown hair liberally threaded with gray walked into the clinic, looking in dismay at the mess. “I’m Dr. Grover.”

  Julianne walked over to shake the woman’s hand. “FBI Agent Martinez,” she said, introducing herself. “I’m working with Sheriff Kenner on a case involving an escaped prisoner.”

  “Nate Otwell,” Dr. Grover said with a nod. “I saw it on the news.”

  “We have an unknown gunman who facilitated his escape,” Brody said, joining the conversation. “Agent Martinez wounded him and we have good reason to believe that he may be the one responsible for the break-in.”

  Dr. Grover scowled. “I hope you catch him, Sheriff.”

  Seeing the veterinary clinic reminded Julianne of the K-9 unit’s mission to adopt a puppy from each area they were deployed to, as a way to both honor Jake and show the strength of their team. The puppy would be brought home to be trained as a K-9 officer. She made a mental note to ask Vanessa Grover if she knew of any puppies in need of a good home.

  For now, she decided it was more important to focus on the issue at hand.

  “You could help by telling us exactly what’s missing from the cabinet,” Julianne said, crossing over to where the broken door hung askew.

  Dr. Grover sighed and shook her head. “I can tell you I keep medicine in that cabinet, and the drawers—” she pointed to the two deep drawers located to the sides of the sink “—hold various types of dressings. I don’t usually do the inventory, that’s Clark’s job.”

  “But you’d have an inventory listing, wouldn’t you?” Julianne pressed. “We’ll talk to Clark, too, but would like whatever information you have as well.”

  Dr. Grover nodded. “Sure, I can pull up what I have on the computer.”

  “Don’t use this computer yet,” Brody said. “We want to dust for prints first. What time did you leave the clinic last night?”

  “I left after seeing my last patient of the day, about 6:00 p.m.” Dr. Grover gestured toward the two caged animals. “But Clark was going to come back around nine o’clock at night to be sure our two boarders were taken care of.” The vet frowned. “Clark was also supposed to be here bright and early this morning, too. I admit I was irked when I arrived and realized he hadn’t come in yet.”

  A prickling sensation raised the hairs on the back of Julianne’s neck. She glanced at Brody, who also looked grim. “We need to call Clark, ASAP,” she said.

  “I know,” he agreed. “Dr. Grover, will you give us his contact information?”

  The vet rattled off Clark’s phone number and Brody made the call. “No answer. In fact, my call went straight to voice mail.”

  “I don’t like it,” Julianne muttered, catching Brody’s crystal
-blue eyes with hers. “Something’s not right.”

  “I feel the same way.” He pulled out his cell and called his dispatcher. “Send a vehicle to the address of Clark Davenport,” he instructed. “If found, bring him in for questioning.”

  “Wait a minute,” Dr. Grover protested. “Clark loves working with animals and he’s very responsible. There’s no way in the world I’d believe he’s involved in this. He would never leave our furry patients to fend for themselves.”

  “We’re not saying he did this intentionally,” Julianne told her. “You said yourself that it’s strange he didn’t show up for work this morning.”

  “Oh!” Dr. Grover put a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. “You think the fugitive took him against his will?”

  “We don’t know anything yet,” Julianne corrected. “Please, Dr. Grover, just let us do our job, okay? Why don’t you get us that inventory list?”

  “But use the computer in the main lobby area, nothing back here,” Brody told her. “We’ll need to make sure there aren’t fingerprints on the desk.”

  “Yes. Okay... I’ll do that.” The vet walked through the doorway leading to the front of the clinic. A few minutes later, she returned with several pages. “Here, this is the medication and supply inventory. It was last reconciled last week Friday.”

  Julianne took the information, scanning over the long list of itemized supplies. Last Friday was five days ago, which meant it wouldn’t be easy to figure out what was missing versus what had been used on the clinic’s small four-legged patients.

  Except...she narrowed her gaze on the list of antibiotics, then walked over to the medication cabinet. Sure enough, every single bottle of antibiotics was missing. And so were all the pain medications.

  She let out a heavy sigh. Not likely that the clinic had gone through the entire inventory of antibiotics and pain meds in five days.

  Brody came over to stand beside her. “The deputy at Clark’s house claims he’s not home and that his dog, Banjo, was locked inside the house. I’m afraid it doesn’t look good. Clark Davenport is definitely missing.”

  “Along with all the antibiotics and pain meds,” Julianne added, deeply concerned about this newest twist in the case. “I hate to say this, but I believe the gunman took them.”