A face appeared. A young girl with long blond hair, nose almost pressed to the windowpane. The look of misery and longing in her blue eyes punched Charlotte in the gut. “I see a possible victim,” she whispered, the sound of her voice lost in the wind.
“What’s that?” James asked, immediately by her side. “Let me see.”
She passed him the binoculars and hurriedly dug into her backpack for the camera. “Top left window.”
James peered through the lens. “I don’t see anything.”
“Give it here.” Charlotte dropped the camera, grabbed the field glasses, and pinpointed the target.
Nothing. The blinds were drawn closed. She hadn’t imagined it—Jenny had been there seconds ago. “Damn it! Jenny was just there. I promise you.”
“Too bad. If she’d stayed thirty seconds longer, you could have snapped a photo. Would have been solid proof to justify a search warrant of the house.”
“I know,” she said with a groan. “Who knows when or if she’ll appear again?”
He laid a warm, heavy hand on her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. “At least we know where to focus our efforts now if that particular household doesn’t claim children.”
Our efforts. The world went bleary through a thick haze of tears, and Charlotte angrily blinked them back. She cleared her throat. “Does this mean you believe me? You’ll help bring those bastards down?”
James stared ahead. “I saw the pictures of those missing children.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “If they’re being held there—” he nodded at the house “—then I’ll stop at nothing to get them out.”
Something tight in her shoulders relaxed slightly—a tension she hadn’t been aware she was carrying. “That’s where they are. I know for sure now, even if I can’t prove it to anyone else.”
Again she felt for the missing gun at her side. Maybe it was a good thing that James had confiscated it. She wanted nothing more than to force her way inside and search the premises. But even armed, it would take more than one person to get the captives out alive. Soon, she silently promised Jenny.
“Let’s take ’er for a spin,” James said, hopping on the ATV.
Privately she was unconvinced of the wisdom of that particular move, but partnerships were a give-and-take. She’d voiced her concern, and he’d overridden it. Fair enough. He’d been accommodating in other matters.
Charlotte resumed her position on the back seat, and they blazed down the trail. At last they were close enough to the guards that the men must have heard the oncoming vehicle. They pulled apart, warily eying their approach. Both drew their right hands to their hips as if reaching for sidearms.
* * *
SURELY THEY WEREN’T so brazen as to shoot two people in broad daylight.
But perhaps he’d been a fool to count on that. He couldn’t let anything happen to Charlotte. Coming out here had been his idea. James threw up his right hand in a friendly wave, as if he were merely passing through without a care in the world.
They didn’t return the wave or the smile, but they didn’t fire, either.
James turned to the left and followed the path that led away from the territory the men guarded. Might be best not to return the same way, just to be safe. Another half mile ahead, he could cut across Old Man Broward’s field and return to the cabin in a more roundabout fashion.
Charlotte tugged violently on his right arm. “Stop!”
Had they been followed? James veered the ATV sideways, slamming on the brakes. His eyes cut to the path behind them. “What is it?”
Before the ATV completely sputtered to a stop, Charlotte hopped off and rushed to the side of the road, pointing. “Is that blood?”
Dark crimson dotted and swiped across dried leaves.
“The drag pattern indicates something was shot and dragged here,” he mused.
“Or someone,” Charlotte said, rubbing her arms. “Oh, God, I hope it’s not Jenny. Not that I want anyone dead, of course. It’s just, I couldn’t ear for Tanya to lose her only child. Her marriage went south last year, and Jenny is her world.”
“Every girl is somebody’s daughter. Somebody’s world, too. But I know what you mean.”
He dug another plastic bag from his coat pocket and bent down to collect a sample. “An eventful morning,” he said grimly.
“Wait. Let me take a photo of this before you start collecting.”
He waited, studying the blood. No way to tell if it was animal or human without running tests. There was a lot of it. If it was from a human, chances were they were dead. The body—or possibly a deer carcass—had been dragged a couple of feet before being hauled off.
A few snaps and clicks later, James quickly gathered up enough blood for lab testing and then drove the meandering route back to the cabin.
During the truck ride to the sheriff’s department, Charlotte was unusually quiet and withdrawn. James took her hand. “We’re going to free Jenny and the others,” he promised, parking the truck.
She squeezed his hand, and he withdrew it. James stepped out of the vehicle, and she fell into place beside him as they entered the sheriff’s office. Why did he always feel the need to touch Charlotte? Totally inappropriate and nothing he’d ever felt the urge to do on the few patrols he’d run with Jolene, the only female officer in the department. Must be because this case was personal for Charlotte and she was passionate about freeing the prisoners. She cared deeply about this assignment.
Hell, so did he. Hard to believe in America, and right here in his county, young girls were brutalized and sold to men like sides of beef. Made it damn hard to sleep at night, imagining their suffering.
The clatter and whir of printers and scanners abruptly stopped. Necks craned, and fingers stilled over keyboards. For a good five seconds, he and Charlotte were scrutinized by Elmore County’s finest.
Sammy arose from his desk and walked over to greet them. “Wondered where you were this morning,” he remarked. He extended a hand to Charlotte. “Sam Armstrong.”
“Detective Helms.” She gave a polite nod but volunteered nothing further about herself. Sammy turned back to James. “You’re late this morning. Boss wants to see you. Pronto.”
That sounded fairly ominous. As the newest officer, he had no authority deciding what cases to take, much less setting his own schedule.
“Shall I go with you?” Charlotte asked, squaring her shoulders.
“Later. Let me talk to him first.” He’d sent Harlan a couple of brief texts stating only that he was investigating a trafficking ring with an Atlanta cop. No doubt Harlan was less than pleased at being left out.
“How about some coffee?” Sammy asked, steering Charlotte toward the back of the lobby.
“Sure. Just point me in the right direction.”
Once she walked a few feet away, Sammy leaned in, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Want me to handcuff her to the desk this time? She appears to be a flight risk.”
“You can try, but I have a suspicion you’d end up the one chained to my desk. Not Charlotte.”
Sammy laughed. “I like her spirit.”
“Guess I better go face the music with Harlan.”
“He’s in a rotten mood this morning,” Sammy cheerily informed him.
James stifled a groan and strode the hallway to Harlan’s office. The sheriff sat at his desk, a newspaper sprawled out in front of him.
“Sir?” James asked, always formal in the workplace. He didn’t want Harlan or anyone else to think he courted favor because the sheriff was his brother-in-law.
Harlan scowled, impatiently waving for him to take a seat. “Cut the sir crap. You aren’t in the army anymore.”
A fact James never intended to use to his advantage. “Yes, s—”
“Call me Harlan like everybody else around here.” He leaned back in his chair, steepling his f
ingers. “What the hell is this about a human trafficking ring, and who’s working undercover in my county?”
“Yesterday I found a woman camped out in Dad’s old cabin. Turns out she’s an undercover cop with Atlanta’s special crimes unit. Her name’s Detective Helms.” He tried not to grimace as Harlan punched her name into his computer.
“Might as well tell you,” James said. “Char—Detective Helms—is currently on suspension with them for insubordination.”
Harlan stopped typing and cast him a surprised scowl. “Why?”
“She was ordered to drop her search and was reassigned another case. She refused.”
“Why?” Harlan barked again. It seemed to be his favorite word.
“Because one of the victims is the daughter of her best friend.”
“An officer can’t allow personal emotions to interfere with duty,” Harlan objected. “If she was ordered to cease, then that’s the end of the matter.”
James quirked a brow. “Like you did when J.D. ordered you to mind your own business last year when Lilah was in danger?”
What an ass the former sheriff had been. He’d never cared for the guy and wasn’t a bit surprised when he returned home and learned J.D. was in jail. Especially since he’d protected the identity of James’s father and sister’s killer. Mentally James shook off the memory of his own tragedy.
Harlan shifted in his seat. “If I had stopped my investigation, your sister might have been the next victim.”
“I’m not complaining, merely pointing out that sometimes it’s impossible to give up.”
It was easy to read Harlan’s discomfort as his boss realized the hypocrisy of the situation. James went in for the kill.
“What harm can it be to work with her for a time? Worst-case scenario, it’s been a waste of one officer’s time. Best case, we find the traffickers, and you get all the glory for the capture.”
“You really think that’s all I care about? What people will think of me?”
He’d overstepped his bounds. Of course Harlan cared how all this would reflect on him as sheriff. It was an elected position, after all. But he was also a decent man intent on keeping crime out of the county.
“I was out of line,” James admitted. “But I know you. If young girls are being held against their will and sold into the sex slave market, you’ll do your best to stop it.”
“Damn right,” Harlan grumbled.
“So you’ll let me continue working the case with Detective Helms?”
Harlan regarded him silently for several heartbeats. “With reservations. I’m going to speak with her supervisor and get more information on this suspension. In the meantime, tell me what, if anything, you’ve discovered that validates her claim of a ring operating out of Lavender Mountain.”
Quickly he filled Harlan in on the attempted shooting, being tailed by an unmarked sedan, the shot in the dark last night and Charlotte’s claim of seeing a young girl’s face at the window this morning. “And then there’s this,” he added, pulling out the baggie of bloody leaves. “Found them close to the Falling Rock subdivision.”
Harlan leaned over his desk and picked up the evidence, holding it up to the light. “Could be from a deer.”
“Or it could be human.”
Harlan nodded. “I’ll send it to the lab straightaway and pull strings. They should know in a day or two if it’s animal or human, but the DNA tests to determine whose blood it is could take weeks. And even then, we can only match DNA if the person has a DNA sample on file.”
Then he drummed his fingers against the wooden desk. “So far, you haven’t proven anything sinister is going on at Falling Rock, but I don’t want to take chances, either. I’ll get the lowdown on this Helms woman, but in the meantime, check out her story.” Harlan narrowed his eyes. “Heard she’s a real looker. You aren’t getting sucked in by a pretty face, are you?”
“’Course not.” James swallowed back his irritation. “She’s sacrificing everything to rescue her friend’s daughter and whoever else is held captive.”
Harlan let out a sigh. “So she claims. How long does she plan on staying?”
“As long as it takes.”
“And where’s she staying?”
Heat blossomed on his neck and face. “I’ve offered her my place.” That sounded bad. Really bad. But he hated the idea of Charlotte staying in town and being exposed to danger.
Thankfully Harlan let that pass. “Suspension or not, Atlanta should have informed me of suspicious activity in this area. We’ve got enough problems without being in the dark on any leads they have. It’s an insult to this office. An insult to me.”
“Don’t take it personally. It’s the nature of undercover work. And Elmore County’s reputation is ruined after all the crap J.D. pulled as sheriff.”
Harlan didn’t appear the least mollified. “They’re still going to hear my complaint. Are you still sure this Helms woman is on the up-and-up?”
James immediately leaped to her defense. “Yes. A bit reckless, but brave and determined.”
“Reckless?” asked a high-pitched voice.
Charlotte stood in the doorway, arms folded and chin lifted. “Nothing’s ever been accomplished without taking action based on calculated risks.”
Harlan stood and assessed her with narrow eyes. “I don’t want my officer placed at risk with any wild plans you might harbor for accomplishing your mission. Got it? Any evidence you find, you run it by me, and I’ll decide what action to take.”
“Got it.” Her lips tightened to a thin line, and James was willing to bet she told Harlan only what he wanted to hear. Obedience didn’t appear to be her strong suit.
“Excellent,” Harlan said crisply. “As long as we have that understanding, Officer Tedder can work with you a few days to see if you two can turn up evidence. We’ll issue you a uniform and a cover story that you’re our new employee on probation and learning the ropes. Not being undercover will allow you to freely explore the area. That sound fair?”
“Perfectly.”
Harlan buzzed the intercom on his desk and his secretary, Zelda, appeared immediately. “Escort Detective Helms to inventory and see she’s issued a suitable uniform,” he told her. “If there’s not one in her size, check around with a few of the neighboring sheriffs and see if they have a spare.”
“I’m on it.”
Zelda motioned for Charlotte to follow, and James was alone again with his boss.
“I appreciate this,” James began. “I realize I’m still fairly new, and if it turns out—”
“We’re already understaffed, and all my other officers have a huge workload as it is.” Harlan relaxed and sat back down. “Besides, I wouldn’t have hired you if I didn’t think you were up for the job, and any assignment, brother-in-law or not.”
James had his doubts about that. Lilah had fussed over him ever since he’d returned from Afghanistan, convinced he needed to get out of the house more. No one seemed to understand that after all he’d seen overseas, living alone and keeping to himself was his idea of paradise. He wanted nothing more than peace and quiet, but he suspected that ship had sailed.
The phone rang, and Harlan glanced at the screen. “Got to take this. Keep me informed. And James...keep your guard up, okay?”
With that, Harlan lifted the phone’s handset, and James returned to his desk, mulling over the conversation. His feelings were mixed. It was an interesting case and one he’d campaigned to stay on. One that beat the hell out of roaming the back roads on patrol. But Charlotte unsettled him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her haunted eyes when she mentioned Jenny. The need to leap to her defense had been surprising—and not in a good way.
Was he being fooled by a pretty face, as Harlan suggested?
He’d take his brother-in-law’s warning to heart. Proceed slow and easy. And for God’s sake
, he’d resist the impulse to touch her. Detective Charlotte Helms was temporarily his new partner—and nothing more.
Chapter Six
“May I have my gun back now—partner?” Charlotte self-consciously tugged at the front of her too-tight uniform blouse. First opportunity, she’d buy some dark brown tank tops to wear underneath the shirt. Pink skin on her chest and stomach peeked out in the gap between the buttons. She was a quarter-pound cheeseburger away from completely popping out.
James’s eyes slid down her uniform, and she barely resisted the urge to squirm. The pants were as tight as the top, hugging her hips and ass in a way that made her feel exposed.
“Right. Your gun.” He unlocked a desk drawer. “Zelda’s made arrangements for better-fitting uniforms to be overnighted.”
Was it her imagination, or had his voice deepened and slowed? Suddenly it wasn’t just her uniform that felt tight. The very room felt compressed and the air thick with tension.
Sexual tension.
Might as well call it what it was. Charlotte swallowed hard, eyes focused on his large hands as they palmed her weapon—metal caressed by muscle. Mesmerizing. What would it be like to have his hands stroke her naked flesh?
“Here,” James said, his hand reaching for hers.
Lifting her arm was like a magnetic pull through molasses—slow and steady and inevitable. Her fingers wrapped around the gun’s barrel, and she fastened it to her belt clip. She didn’t dare face James. Didn’t dare trust her eyes not to betray the sudden passion.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Damn if her voice wasn’t as gruff as his.
Buck up. He’s officially your partner now. Passion meant distraction. And they each needed all their wits to break the trafficking ring. Not to mention, they also needed focus to keep their hides intact in the face of flying bullets. No wonder romantic relationships were taboo in law enforcement—they could get you killed. And once you broke up with a coworker? The worst. Danny had taught her that.
Appalachian Abduction (Lavender Mountain Book 2; Appalachian Magic) Page 6