Record of Wrongs (Redemption County Book 1)

by Sharon Kay

A car sat idling right next to the door. No! Protests exploded in Rosie’s mind. Have to get away! If they take you somewhere your chances of survival drop. No!

  The second man opened the rear door and the first man climbed in, not letting go of Rosie. Slam! The door shut.

  He still held the rag over her mouth. She tried to bring a knee up to his face. But he ducked. “Just a few more minutes and you won’t be able to try that shit.”

  Slam! The driver’s door closed and the car peeled out of the lot. Her breath was choppy, filtered through whatever was on the rag. It smelled like…nail polish? Some kind of solvent? Confusion crept in around the panic and she knew if she didn’t get out now, she might never…She tried to elbow him…and suddenly her arm felt like it weighed twenty pounds. Oh no. Can’t pass out. She needed to try to see where they were going. Try to see… She blinked as her head dropped back onto the man’s upper arm.

  He chuckled and pulled off his ski mask, revealing olive-toned skin, a grizzled jaw, and buzzed dark hair. “That’s it. Nighty night.”

  “No.” She thought she was saying the word emphatically, but it sounded like it came from miles away.

  “Got some fight in you, huh? All right. See how long that lasts.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but then her jaw felt like it wasn’t working. Outside, the black night gave no clue to their whereabouts. She knew they’d left the Grille’s parking lot. That was all she knew, and oh god. All she wanted was Cruz. Cruz…

  Chapter 28

  Cruz’s phone rang from its perch on Rosie’s nightstand. He jolted upright at the noise, on instant alert. The clock next to it read one am. Rosie should still be at work… Grabbing the phone, he glanced at the number. Local…but not one he recognized. “Hello?”

  “Zaffino?” A gruff male voice came through the line.

  “Yeah.” He pushed the sheet off and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  “It’s Shane Marlow.”

  “Oh. Uh…hey.” Not who he expected, and a spike of worry flared in his mind. “What—”

  “Is Rosie with you, by any chance?”

  Now the worry quadrupled into something deeper. “No.” He stood and started looking for his clothes. “She’s scheduled to be at work for another hour.”

  “I know. I’m at the Grille. She’s not here.”

  “What?” Cruz put the phone on speaker and dropped it on the bed. “Where the fuck is she?” He yanked on his clothes as apprehension fueled his arms to move faster. Had she gotten into an accident? Why had no one called him before right now—

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out. Power’s out at the Grille. She was here, but at some point after the power was cut, she…she’s not here.”

  “The power was cut?” Jeans already on, he yanked a T-shirt over his head and grabbed the phone. “Shit, I’m coming over.”

  “Fine. The place is closed, customers all went home, but staff is still here. And the power company.”

  A hundred thoughts raced through Cruz’s mind like some kind of psycho cartoon demons, one worse than the next. But why would she leave? She loved that place. Why wouldn’t she call, if she left? Nothing about this was like her.

  His fists clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel as he sped toward the Grille. No worries about getting a ticket when the town’s police were gathered in the one place he was already headed.

  In a few minutes his truck roared into the Grille’s parking lot. Shane’s SUV was out front, along with another squad car and a white van with an orange flashing light on top. A spotlight had been set up at the side of the building, shining on a utility box where three men worked. Yellow caution tape surrounded them.

  He stormed inside. One glance at Brenda’s tearful face and the chagrin on George and Owen’s faces, and his gut sank.

  Shane set his hands on his hips, where he stood with the group. Denver sat next to him and rose to greet Cruz with a sniff. Probably smells Rosie on me.

  “Tell me.” Cruz bit out.

  “The county electrical guys are here because it looks like the power to the building was cut. No other outages were reported in town. No bad weather. From what they can see, no animals got in there and gnawed the lines. It’s a clean slice.”

  “Why?” The question sawed out of his lungs.

  “No idea. No one saw anyone else come in here, except for the customers that were here when it happened. Everyone else is accounted for.”

  “Is her stuff here?” Cruz asked.

  “Purse, yeah, in the employee room. But not her phone. And uh…” Shane reached for a pad of paper on one of the tables. “This was on the floor in the back hall. Its hers. She kept it in her apron pocket.”

  Cruz stared at the small rectangular lined pad, the kind he’d seen Rosie and all the waitresses use. “It’s hers?” His mind raced a mile a minute. “Wait, her car—is it—”

  “It’s out back, where she always parks it.” Brenda sniffed.

  “Why would she just leave? And on foot?” Cruz paced between two tables. None of this made sense.

  Only the hum of air conditioning met his ears. He stopped, arms crossed, and found several pairs of sad eyes focused on him.

  “We’ve been wondering the same thing and hoping you could help us figure that out,” Shane said. His voice was quiet but carried the undercurrent of raw emotion.

  “You don’t…” Cruz gritted his teeth as a new and blindingly painful thought speared into his brain. He was still the new guy. Did they think he was involved in her disappearance? Oh hell no. He forced calm into his voice, aware that he was speaking to a group of people that contained a cop. “I would lay down my life before I’d let anything happen to her.”

  Brenda stood and rushed toward him with fresh tears. “Cruz, no. That’s not it. That’s not what we think.” She wrung her hands together, squashing a Kleenex that was on the verge of disintegrating. “It’s just…you guys are together all the time. She cares about you so much…she spends more time with you than anyone else, and we wondered if she might have said anything to you about maybe taking off.”

  “Taking off? No.” He dropped his head back and glared at a lazy spinning ceiling fan. She always said she couldn’t wait to get home to me. “She loves this place, this town.” He leveled a stare at Shane. “Her family.”

  Shane regarded him steadily. No accusation, no judgement. Just pain that he was trying hard to cover.

  Cruz took a deep breath, not even able to imagine the thought of losing her. Something was off to the nth degree. “I want to look outside, in back.”

  Shane angled his head. “Let’s go. I’ve got another officer out there.” He led the way through the restaurant to a back hallway, Denver close on his heels. He indicated a spot on the floor. “That’s where we found her notepad.”

  Cruz’s veins fired with confusion. “So she was in this part of the building, and then…”

  “That’s the question.” Shane shoved open the door.

  Another cop was taking pictures of the ground and the tires on Rosie’s car. His focus swung up as Shane and Cruz came out. “Just getting some pictures of all the treads on the employee cars. See if they’re consistent with these.” He indicated a steak of dirt near the back door. He cast a questioning glance at Cruz.

  “This is Cruz Zaffino. Rosie’s boyfriend.” Shane gave the slightest pause before the word boyfriend. “He’ll do what he can to help us.”

  “Zaffino,” the cop said. “I’m Ted Markham. I’d like to check your tires too, as long as I’m—”

  Denver gave a short bark as he nosed along the ground, right where Ted had pointed out the tire mark.

  Shane studied his dog. “Whatcha got, boy?”

  The dog trotted, nose to the ground, toward the men at the utility box. Shane, Cruz, and Ted followed. The power company workers elbowed each
other as they saw Denver headed toward them, and stepped to the side.

  Denver stopped at the green metal box which gaped open, revealing rows of colored wires. He barked once.

  Shane crouched next to him, peering at the guts of the box as if it could tell what went down. “Ted, let’s see if we can get any prints off this.”

  “You got it,” Ted said.

  “What’s he telling you?” Cruz asked Shane.

  “He’s connecting the scents he picked up here,” Shane pointed to the green box, “and there.” He gestured to the spot behind the Grille.

  Rosie’s words from weeks ago flashed back into Cruz’s head. Smartest dog ever. If Cruz had to pin his hopes on an animal, Denver would get top billing.

  Shane gave a command and the two of them moved slowly around the box, each inspecting in their own way.

  Cruz watched them with a mix of hope and frustration. Nothing made sense, and the need to find Rosie pounded relentlessly through every cell in his body. His sweet, pretty girl, who never did anything unexpected. Where are you, baby?

  His phone rang, jolting him from his thoughts. Rosie. Thank fuck.

  “It’s her. And she wants to do Facetime.” His finger hovered over the Accept button.

  Shane abandoned his search and jogged over to Cruz. “Talk to her, find out where she is. Don’t let on that I’m here. I don’t know why she ignored my calls, but I’m just glad she’s reaching out to someone. Thank the lord.”

  Relief zooming though his veins, Cruz hit Accept. Waited two seconds for the connection to complete. And then his heart nearly imploded.

  Rosie’s face appeared, tear-streaked and dirty in a dark place. Her hair was a mess, knotted and stuck to her face. Over her shoulder, holding the phone, was a man Cruz didn’t recognize.

  Her voice trembled, eyes lighting up for a half-second in recognition. “Cruz! Oh my god, Cruz, you have listen to me—”

  “That’s enough.” The man angled the phone so his own ugly mug was in the screen. “Zaffino? You see your girl here?”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Cruz roared. In front of him, Shane and Ted remained silent, cold concentration on their faces.

  “We’re old friends. Sort of. Your friends and my friends go way back.” The man chuckled. There were trees behind him. A bit of light came from somewhere.

  “I don’t have friends like you. Where did you take her?”

  “Relax, man, we’re not far. We need to talk to you. So you need to get your ass over here.”

  “Where are you?”

  Shane gestured to get his attention. Cruz looked up as Shane whispered. “Keep him talking, make him state his location more than once.”

  “You better pay attention, or your little country Barbie here might get hurt,” the man sneered. “You wouldn’t want that now, would you?”

  “If you lay a finger on her I will rip your heart out,” Cruz snarled.

  “Tsk, tsk. Such strong words for a man who just got out of jail. Wouldn’t want to go back.”

  “What do you want with me? Let her go. I’ll come to you,” Cruz said.

  “We’re gonna keep your girlfriend here until you show up,” he said. “Mile marker 167 on highway 45. Park there and walk west. We’ll find you.”

  “What mile marker?” Cruz knew exactly what the ass had said.

  “167. Come here now, and come alone. You try any hero shit, she gets hurt. Lo entiendes?”

  “Ye—” The call ended.

  Cruz stared at it as fury boiled through his every nerve. The guy had a tattoo on his neck. A crown. Los Reyes. “Fuck.”

  “Who was that?” Shane demanded.

  “I don’t know his name, but he’s from a Chicago gang,” Cruz bit out.

  “The fuck are they doing here, with Rosie?”

  “They want me. Don’t know why.”

  “They want you.” Shane glared. “And they took Rosie.”

  Rage more vibrant than anything Cruz had ever felt surged through him, the only thing keeping him from guilt. He couldn’t go there, not now. The fear on Rosie’s face was etched permanently in his brain and it would take him down if he let it. But fuck that. “I’ll get her back.”

  “Not alone.” Shane growled.

  “I can take him. One guy?” Cruz said. “I learned the same way they did. You beat up the next guy or you got the shit beat out of you so bad you couldn’t breathe.”

  “You only saw one man. But there could be more. They might be armed. Plus, we know the area better.”

  “They said—”

  “Fuck what they said.” Shane heaved out an angry breath. “Let them think you’re alone. Ted and I will be there. More deputies will be back up. And don’t forget him.” He shifted his attention to Denver, who paced the area around the men. “That asshole might expect you to have back up. But he won’t expect him.”

  Cruz nodded. No one would anticipate the almost pony-sized shepherd to charge them, and he didn’t want to know what a perp’s arm would look like after Denver’s jaw clamped down on it. “Okay.”

  “You take your truck and park where they said. I know exactly where that marker is, and across the highway there’s a tractor road. I’ll park there and follow you.”

  Cruz shook his head. “They’ll be watching to see if I’m alone.”

  “I’ll give you a head start. And if what Denver is sniffing here is their scent? He’s got this. We’ll find you. Guaranteed.” Shane’s voice was calm and authoritative. “And if it’s not their stink that he detected, he can identify Rosie’s scent. He’ll be able to get to her.”

  “I won’t let them hurt her.” Cruz clenched his fists. “They’d have to kill me first.”

  “I don’t want that,” Shane said. “Rosie really likes you.” He turned to Ted. “Call the sheriff, and have officers and an ambulance ready one mile from the rendezvous point. I’ll call when I need y’all to break cover.”

  Ted nodded. “Will do. I’ll let Owen and the group know. Be careful.”

  “I’m out of here.” Cruz started to head to the front, back to his truck.

  “Zaffino,” Shane called.

  Cruz stopped and half turned.

  “Try to keep him talking until I get close. I know you won’t know exactly when that is, but trust me. We’ll catch up to you ASAP,” Shane said. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure this ends well for Rosie and you.”

  “Thanks.” Cruz turned and jogged to his vehicle. He was beyond caring if he got the man’s approval.

  He had to get to Rosie.

  Chapter 29

  Rosie sat at the base of a tree, ankles bound, and willed her mind to hope. She fixated on the image of Cruz on the Facetime call, how his smile had morphed to ragged concern when he got an extra second to look at her. But that brief flash of his face was enough, along with the sound of his voice on the phone with one of her abductors. His rage was blindingly clear.

  He’ll find me. He will.

  Since she’d regained consciousness, her phone had rung so often that the men had switched it to buzz. She was certain Shane and Brenda had tried to call. She held on to hope, because it was a lifeline. That, and the knowledge that Cruz loved her.

  “How long is he gonna take?” asked the first man, whose name she had overheard. Esau. He’d been the one to grab her. The one who had to be as strong as Cruz. A tattoo curled up from the neckline of his black T-shirt, showcasing tendrils of ink. Some of them formed a symbol she couldn’t quite make out from her spot on the ground.

  “Relajate, man,” the other one said. “This town is so small, he’s gotta get here soon. I’m not worried. We got our little meal ticket right here.” He nodded at Rosie.

  She didn’t dare respond. Saying either yes or no both seemed like they could get her in trouble. Her head pounded from the chemical on the rag,
and her muscles were sluggish. Unfortunately they’d also bound her hands behind her back. Attempting to secretly undo the knots had been futile—she didn’t know how, and her fingers lagged behind her brain’s weak attempts at thinking it through.

  “What do you say, Barbie?” The second man squatted before her. “Your man gonna come get you, or is you two not all that close after all?”

  “He’ll come,” she whispered.

  “See? Nothing to worry about.” He checked his watch and stood. “Any minute now.”

  Esau shook his head and pulled a gun out of his back waistband. He turned it over, clicked something open and then closed it.

  Oh no. She didn’t think Cruz had a gun. No, no, no. He was going to come here and try to save her. And he didn’t know what he was walking into. If he got hurt because of her, it would kill her.

  He was the one person who knew all of her, the one who breathed joy into her heart, the one who had lavished a healing kiss to her pain.

  He was the one.

  The realization hit her hard. He was the man she needed to spend the rest of her life with. And if he wasn’t careful, he would die trying to help her.

  A snapping twig in the darkness had her turning toward the sound. The men went silent, each moving away from the tree she was secured to. The area was thickly wooded. She couldn’t tell how far from any path they were, since she had still been out cold when they brought her here. Her eyes had adjusted as best they could but still, everything before her formed shadowy shapes.

  Her breath sounded too loud in her ears. The second man pulled a gun from his pants. No! Her mind screamed a silent protest.

  Another crack echoed in the silent forest. It had to be Cruz.

  “Who’s there?” Esau demanded gruffly.

  Now, she saw a thin beam of light bouncing among the trees to her left. It flickered and waned weakly, then pointed toward their group. Too far to even make her blink, but she had to warn him. She had to do something. “Cruz! They have guns!” she screamed.

  “Fucking shit!” Esau charged her, fist raised. It connected with her jaw so hard, her head bounced off the tree behind her. Stars exploded in her vision, and she couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or if she had passed out from the pain. The whole side of her face was on fire. Her head slumped forward—