Sheriff

by Laura Scott

  “But we’ve been using them to help process the other crime scenes,” she protested. “Why is this any different?”

  Brody understood Max’s concern. “Because of the timing. We’re actively looking for Nate who disappeared two days ago. A body from over a week ago could mean anything.”

  When Julianne opened her mouth to argue further, Max held up his hand. “Let’s wait for the ME to get here, okay? We’ll decide what our next steps are once we have a better idea of the cause of death and the length of time we’re looking at. There’s no use continuing to speculate.”

  Zeke cleared his throat. “Boss? I’d like to speak to you for a moment.” He glanced at Brody before adding, “In private.”

  “Sure.” Max gave his dog Opal a hand signal, bringing the boxer to his side. Zeke and Cheetah fell in step beside him as they walked toward the river.

  Brody couldn’t help wondering what was up, and why whatever needed to be said couldn’t be discussed in front of him.

  “Don’t worry, it doesn’t have anything to do with Nate or the gunman,” Julianne said as if reading his mind.

  Brody shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Not my business.” Except that it was. Not just because the Duprees had a hideout in his county, but because he’d been assisting the feds with working the case.

  And truthfully? He didn’t appreciate being treated as an outsider.

  “Is that the ME?” Julianne asked, breaking into his thoughts.

  “Yes, that’s Dr. Lincoln Andrews,” he said, gesturing toward the man who jumped out from behind the wheel of a battered pickup truck. “Doc Andrews runs a private practice here with his wife, and also functions as our medical examiner.”

  “Hey, uh, Sheriff?” Frank’s voice drew his attention. “Do ya need anything more from me? Or can I head home?”

  Brody glanced at Julianne who nodded. “I’m fine with him leaving,” she said in response to his unspoken question. “We have his name and contact information if anything else comes up.”

  “You’re free to go, Frank,” Brody told him. “If you see anything else, or remember something, please let us know.”

  “Ah, sure thing.” Frank bobbed his head and then strode quickly past the doc’s truck and the two deputies to head toward the road.

  “That was strange,” Julianne said in a low voice.

  Brody nodded. “Apparently Frank doesn’t get along with our local doctor.” He stepped forward to shake Dr. Andrews’s hand. “Doc, sorry to drag you out here like this.”

  “Sheriff.” Lincoln Andrews clasped his hand, then turned toward Julianne.

  “Agent Martinez,” she said, shaking his hand as she introduced herself. “One of our K-9 officers found the body.”

  Doc Andrews arched a brow. “Really? That’s a new one.”

  “They’re impressive,” Brody added. He waited for the deputies to catch up. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

  Despite being in his early sixties, the doc was still in good shape, easily following Brody’s pace as he navigated through the trees to the area in question. The deputies spread out on either side of the site, beginning the tedious task of searching for clues. Doc Andrews set his bag on the ground at the base of a tree, pulled on a pair of gloves and went to work.

  They spent hours at the crime scene, but eventually their persistence yielded results. Rick Meyers found the other running shoe, and Dan Hanson located part of a blue T-shirt and amazingly they could read the size imprinted on the back collar as being medium.

  “Can you tell us anything about the body?” Brody asked Doc Andrews. “Even a rough age would help.”

  The ME let out a sigh. “Based on the bone structure and what’s left of some of the skin and muscle, I’d say we’re dealing with a young male, could be anywhere from thirteen to twenty years of age. I’ll know more when I get what’s left of this victim to the lab.”

  A sick feeling settled in Brody’s gut at the idea that their victim was a teenager, rather than a grown man. For a moment his memory flashed back to that fateful night he’d followed Nate to the spot where he’d held five people hostage, ready to sell them to the highest bidder.

  Each and every one of them had been younger than twenty-one years of age.

  He stumbled backward, suddenly needing to get away from the body that was likely one of Nate’s victims. Possibly from before he’d gotten arrested.

  Bending over at the waist, he braced his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths in an effort to keep his breakfast in his belly.

  “Brody? Are you okay?”

  Julianne’s voice was like a balm soothing his frayed nerves. He couldn’t force words past his constricted throat, so he tried to nod.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said softly, wrapping her arm around his back and holding onto him as if she were afraid he’d tumble over. “You don’t know for sure this victim is linked to Nate’s crimes. His death could easily be the result of two kids fighting over the same girl, drugs, anything.”

  After two more deep breaths, he forced himself upright. “You’re wrong,” he rasped. “I’m certain this kid is Nate’s victim. He preyed on kids from broken families, kids that wouldn’t be reported missing, or if they were, no one would think twice about the fact that they’d taken off on their own to find someplace better.”

  Like Lilly Ramos, he thought dully. Although he still didn’t believe Lilly was dead, there was no denying that she fit the profile—her father had a heavy hand when he was drinking but her mother always bailed him out of trouble. But Lilly’s parents had been convinced she had taken off on her own, searching for a job in Houston. They’d even shown computer searches that backed up their story.

  Brody still believed Lilly ran away on her own. He and Nate had spent hours looking for her, checking with bus stops, taxi drivers, anyone who may have seen her. Nate had wanted to keep searching but as the weeks turned into months, even Brody was forced to admit the trail had gone cold.

  This young man was different. He must have disappeared more recently, and to Brody’s knowledge there hadn’t been any reports of runaways or missing teens in the past year or so.

  “Even if it is linked to Nate, it’s not your fault,” Julianne insisted. “He chose to go back to his life of crime.”

  Brody shook his head in disgust. “Logically I know you’re right, but deep down, I can’t help but think that I’m responsible. That if I hadn’t joined the army, none of this would have happened.”

  She linked her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she cajoled. “Put your faith in God’s plan.”

  He gathered her close, pressing his lips to her temple. She was right, he’d lost sight of his faith and it was well past time to get back on track. Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer for courage, wisdom and strength to find Nate before anyone else was harmed. When he finished, his entire body felt lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

  “Um, hate to interrupt,” Max said. “But Zeke and I are ready to head out.”

  Julianne lifted her head and subtly pulled from his embrace. Reluctantly, he let her go. “Is there something more that you need from me and Thunder?”

  “No, we’re going to grab a bite to eat and see if we can’t get some information on this newest lead,” Max said cryptically. “Are you both sticking around?”

  “Yes,” Julianne answered before Brody could say anything. “We’ll touch base later.”

  “You don’t have to stay,” Brody told her. “This is my mess to worry about, not yours.”

  A flicker of hurt darkened her eyes, but then it was gone. “We’re working together as a team, at least until we find Nate or the gunman. Unless you don’t trust me?”

  He was shocked by her statement. “Of course I trust you
. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Boss?” Rick Meyers interrupted them by bringing over something in a plastic evidence bag. “Look.”

  He eyed the item in the bag. “A key chain? Where did you find it?”

  “Front pocket of the vic’s jeans. Doc Andrews has the body completely uncovered now, we’re just waiting for a gurney to cart him out of here.”

  Brody took the bag so he could examine the key chain more closely. There was a square with an S etched on the face and a small chain attached to a key ring. There were only two keys, one bulky key looking to belong to a car or a truck. “Did either you or Hanson recognize it?”

  “Not me.” Rick glanced over his shoulder at his fellow deputy who was approaching more slowly. “Dan, does this keychain look familiar to you?”

  The older deputy shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve seen several like it. They sell them at the Gas N Go. We could ask for the list of customers, see if anyone purchased the letter S key chain in the past few months.”

  Brody wondered if the kid had bought the key ring because he’d just gotten his first car. Nausea swished in his belly and he swallowed hard. “Do that,” he said. “Let me know what you find out.”

  “Sure.” Deputy Hanson didn’t spare Julianne a second glance and Brody could tell the guy’s attitude bothered her. But she didn’t say anything as the deputies returned to the crime scene.

  Thirty minutes later, two EMTs arrived to get what was left of the body on the gurney. They wheeled it toward their ambulance and Brody knew they’d deliver it directly to Doc Andrews’s lab. When they were alone, he turned to Julianne. “Guess we need to find a new place to stay.”

  “Yeah.” They walked down the path to the spot where they’d left their vehicle. “I have to say, it’s bothering me the way the gunman keeps finding us.”

  “I know. It bugs me, too.” Brody couldn’t figure out how Nate and the gunman had the time or the technological resources to keep tracking them. “But I have another place in mind, a motel that’s located on the opposite side of the town.”

  Julianne’s smile was weary. “As long as it’s not on the same level as the Broke Spoke, it works for me.”

  “It’s a step up,” he assured her. “A place called the Sunflower Motel, and they’re pet-friendly.”

  “Sounds good to me, even though Thunder is a trained officer, not a pet.”

  “I know that, Julianne, but the people running a motel might not see the distinction.”

  “Speaking of which, we need to replace Thunder’s dog dishes, food and other equipment.”

  “Okay. We’ll stop at the same place we used earlier.”

  An hour later they were settled into adjoining rooms. They’d stopped for food, but thanks to the gruesome crime scene, neither one of them was very hungry.

  Brody recalled how Julianne had asked about the other kids he and Nate had hung around with at the detention center. He hadn’t wanted to accuse an innocent person of a horrible crime, or waste time chasing a dead end, but that was before they’d discovered the corpse.

  He forced himself to write down the names of the boys he remembered. Then he headed over to the motel’s small business center to borrow the computer. It wasn’t easy, but he eventually found what he was looking for, an old photo on the juvie center’s website. He printed it and took it back to Julianne.

  “Do any of these guys look familiar?”

  She carefully studied the photograph. “Maybe this guy on the end,” she finally said, tapping the picture. “The facial structure looks right, as does the scar at the corner of his mouth. We’d need age progression to be sure. What’s his name?”

  “Kurt Royce, he was a year younger than me and Nate.” For a moment he stared at the picture. “I’d forgotten about Kurt’s scar—he was cut with a knife during the first week of juvie.”

  “Do you know where Kurt is now?” she asked.

  “No, but we may be able to find out if we head down to my office. There could be a recent mug shot of him on file.”

  “Let’s go.”

  He nodded, shooting up to his feet. If Julianne was right and Royce was the gunman, it would be the biggest break so far in their case.

  And his biggest personal failure for not figuring it out sooner.

  TEN

  Julianne glanced at Brody’s stern profile as he navigated the curvy highway. She could tell he was beating himself up for not thinking of Kurt Royce’s telltale scar sooner, and knew this wasn’t the time to bring up her second theory.

  That one of his own deputies might be working with Nate and the gunman.

  Turning the sequence of events over and over in her mind, she couldn’t help but think an insider was the most likely explanation. Nate and his accomplice may have gotten lucky by catching a glimpse of her small K-9 logo on her SUV parked outside Rusty’s, and she could also agree they’d set the trap with the bloody towels at the Broke Spoke, but finding her and Brody at the Thoroughbred Inn? That stretched the realm of her imagination. It just didn’t seem likely.

  Although, to be fair, Nate and Brody had been friends for over ten years. It was entirely possible that Nate knew Brody well enough to figure out where he’d go next, staying one step ahead of him that way. Still, she knew Brody was smart enough to avoid any hiding places that his former friend might remember.

  Most cops didn’t believe in coincidences, leading her back to a potential inside leak.

  Yet wouldn’t his officers be loyal to Brody? Why turn criminal, for the money? Maybe. But just because she didn’t like Deputy Dan Hanson much, with his sexist attitude toward women, didn’t mean he would join forces with Otwell and the gunman.

  She could drive herself crazy going around and around about this.

  Deciding to keep her thoughts to herself for now, she let Thunder out of the back before following Brody inside the sheriff’s department headquarters. A black-haired woman with gray strands framing her face sat at a large desk lined with four wide computer screens. Other than giving them a wave and Thunder a curious glance, she didn’t say anything, obviously listening to the chatter going on through her headset as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

  “That’s my most senior dispatcher, Corrine Haley,” Brody said as he unlocked his office. “She’s been a rock during these past few days. She’s been putting in extra hours so that I can use more hands in the field. I don’t even want to think about what my overtime bill is going to look like. The mayor is not going to be happy if I don’t have anything to show for it.”

  “I hear you,” she agreed, knowing that budget concerns plagued every agency, even federal government agencies with highly secret missions such as their K-9 unit. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

  He gave a curt nod, then dropped into the chair behind his desk, quickly booting up his computer. She stood near his shoulder, watching him work. Several keystrokes later, he’d pulled up the database and began a search for Kurt Royce.

  The image that popped up on the screen made her gasp. Same narrow face framed by greasy blond hair, beady eyes and scar at the corner of his mouth. “That’s him! That’s the gunman.”

  Brody surprised her by letting out a heavy groan, rubbing his hands over his face. “I should have thought of Kurt Royce earlier.”

  “Hey.” She put a hand on his arm. “Don’t do this, Brody. You knew several kids in juvie, the gunman could have been any of them.”

  He pulled away from her touch, jumped up to his feet and began to pace. Thunder jerked up in surprise from where he was stretched out at her feet. She calmed him by scratching his ears. “I didn’t want to believe that Nate’s ties went back that far.” He seemed to be talking to himself. “Why didn’t I look into the juvie connection sooner?”

  “Brody. Brody!” Her sharp tone finally got his attention and he snapped out of h
is funk long enough to look at her. “This isn’t your fault. Regret isn’t going to get us anywhere. All we can do is to work forward from here.”

  His tortured blue eyes clung to hers for a long moment and it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms. Maybe he hadn’t trusted her six years ago, but he did now. “Don’t you think I should have known Nate was hanging out with Kurt?”

  “Why would you?” she countered. “Did you ever see them hanging out together?”

  That seemed to bring him up short. “No, I never did,” he admitted. “I guess you’re right. Nate and Kurt must have grown closer while I was in the army. It’s possible that’s when they decided to go into ‘business’ together.”

  Julianne held her tongue. Yes, she still believed it was possible that Nate had been a crook even back while they were still in college, but this wasn’t the time to harp on the past. Especially since she didn’t have any proof, other than her gut instincts.

  And her inherent dislike of Nate from the first time she’d met him.

  “Exactly,” she said, forcing a smile. “And even better, we now have something to go on.”

  “Yeah, we do.” Brody drew a deep breath, then dropped back into his chair and initiated a new search. “I have to believe Royce owns property here, somewhere.”

  Her pulse thrummed with anticipation at the possibility of a new lead. They had to find Nate, and the clock was ticking. Nate knew this area well enough to find a way past the roadblocks Brody’s deputies had put into place and she could only imagine that he wouldn’t risk sticking around in the area for much longer.

  “Look!” Brody tapped a finger against the computer screen. “Royce owns an old ranch house set on several acres of wooded land. This could be where he and Nate are hiding.”

  “It’s possible,” she agreed. “And worth checking out, because even if they’re not holed up there, we may find some other clues as to where they might be.”

  “It will be dark outside soon,” Brody said, glancing toward the window overlooking the parking lot. “But I’d still like to get over there tonight.” He opened another screen and used the internet to pull up a three-dimensional satellite view of the ranch house. “This is our destination.”