The Lawman Returns

by Lynette Eason

Krissy hesitated, then lowered herself into the nearest chair. Sabrina sat opposite her. If she couldn’t be outside, she could at least visit with those who came in. “It is a bit chilly, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not too bad as long as you have a place to warm up. The bonfire’s doing a pretty good job, but those clouds look like they’re getting ready to drop a few inches of snow at any moment.” She twisted her fingers together and jiggled her leg. Her gaze flitted from the corner of the kitchen to the door, then back to the table.

  “Is everything all right?” Sabrina asked.

  Krissy smiled. A tight thin one that looked forced. “Of course. What could possibly be wrong?”

  “You seem a little stressed.”

  “No more than usual.” Her shoulders drooped. “It’s just my life right now. My mom has Alzheimer’s, you know.”

  “I know. Clay told me.”

  Krissy shrugged. “And I hate living in this dead-end town, but I’m stuck because Lance has no ambition. He just wants to be a small-town cop for the rest of his life, and what I want doesn’t matter.”

  Sabrina flinched at the anger emanating from the woman. “I’m so sorry.”

  The anger faded and Krissy straightened. “No, I’m sorry for dumping on you.”

  The door opened and Clay stepped inside. When he saw them, he nodded. “Hi, Krissy.”

  “Hi, Clay.”

  Clay’s gaze shot to Sabrina’s. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine. Staying inside like a good girl.”

  Krissy yawned and stood. “Guess I’ll go back outside and join Lance.” She paused at the door. “Since when did you invite Stan Prescott to this thing?”

  Clay went still. Sabrina froze. “What? You saw him? Here?”

  “Where?” Clay demanded at the same time.

  Krissy’s eyes widened. “Uh...not too long ago. Out near the barn and then by the trees on the other side of the pond.”

  “You’re sure it was him?”

  Krissy rolled her eyes. “How long have I known Stan? Of course I’m sure.”

  And then she was gone, pushing past Clay and out through the back door.

  Clay slapped the door frame. “Sit tight. I’m going to get a search party together, and we’re going to find this guy. Don’t worry—I’ll have Lance watch the house just in case Stan decides he wants to sneak back over this way.”

  Then he, too, was gone.

  Sabrina sat still for a minute, her mind processing the conversation with Krissy and the fact that she’d spotted Stan Prescott nearby.

  She registered a noise coming from the hallway. She rose and followed the sound until she stood just outside the doorway of the master bedroom.

  She hesitated, then peeked around the corner. And her heart broke.

  Mrs. Starke sat on the king-size bed, hugging a picture frame to her chest. Sabrina had no doubt it was a picture of Steven.

  She started to turn to leave the mother alone with her grief when a box caught her eye. Other items rested on the comforter as though they’d been looked at and set aside. Sabrina recognized a few of the items as having belonged to Steven. She stepped into the room, sat beside Mrs. Starke on the bed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

  Mrs. Starke sniffed and held out the picture. “I am, too. Sometimes it just overwhelms me.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “I think it would help if his murderer was caught. I think then I could find some closure.”

  “I know that Clay is doing everything he can to make that happen.”

  Mrs. Starke smiled and patted her hand. She reached into the box and pulled out a picture. “He had this tucked into one of his books.”

  Sabrina looked at the picture. She and Steven had their heads together. Their expressions were identical. Satisfaction at saving another child. Sabrina blinked back the tears that wanted to surface. “We had gone to pick up a child and take him to an emergency shelter. We stopped at that little diner on Twenty-Sixth and took a selfie.” She sighed. “He was determined to save every abused and neglected child he could. We made a great team.”

  “And now you and Clay have teamed up.”

  Sabrina gave a soft laugh and handed the picture back to Mrs. Starke. “Yes, I suppose so. He’s a lot like Steven, yet very different, too. He’s even more driven in some ways.”

  “Clay’s always been that way. He loves his family and this ranch, but he’s never wanted to settle here. Steven did.”

  She wiped her eyes with a crumpled tissue and started to pack up the items. Sabrina stopped her. “Do you mind if I look through them?”

  Mrs. Starke shook her head. “Of course not. I want him to be remembered. But I’d better go put in an appearance or I’ll have the whole family in here fussing at me for being maudlin.”

  “I don’t think they’d fuss.”

  “No, probably not.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute. I promise I’ll pack everything back up.”

  Mrs. Starke ran a hand over Sabrina’s hair. “You’re a sweet child.”

  Child? Sabrina nearly laughed but supposed she was a child in the woman’s eyes. “Thanks.”

  Mrs. Starke left and Sabrina went through the items one by one, remembering Steven through a haze of tears. Oh, the good times they’d had. Nothing romantic, just good friends. Steven had never indicated he was interested in anything more, but apparently he’d been on the path to healing from the death of his wife. Sabrina knew even had Steven lived, there wouldn’t have been anything between them. What she felt for Steven paled in comparison to her growing feelings for his brother.

  Clay. What was she going to do about him?

  He wanted a life in Nashville. She had no intention of leaving Wrangler’s Corner.

  Not to mention the whole his-uncle-hated-her thing. If she didn’t go away, he was going to withhold his financial help.

  Yeah. That was a biggie.

  She replaced the items, and her hand hovered over the book. A paperback that she’d loaned Steven. She smiled as she remembered. Steven had had it with him the day he’d died and it had been stuck in the bag with his belongings.

  Should she ask for it back or just leave it with his family? She flipped through it and jumped when several photos fell from the pages and into her lap.

  She picked one up and gasped. It was fuzzy, as if it had been taken through a dirty window. But two people stood at a stove cooking. She moved to the next picture. Empty boxes, ammonia bottles, empty two liter bottles with plastic hoses. Meth-making materials.

  Cold dread settled into the pit of her stomach. She had to talk to Clay immediately. She stood with the box of the rest of the mementos in her hand. Should she take the pictures out to him? Or leave them hidden in the book?

  She shoved the pictures back into the box and tucked the book into the back pocket of her jeans. She’d find Mrs. Starke and ask her permission to keep the book. But first she’d find Clay and tell him about the pictures. It was probably better to leave them hidden. She started to place the box on the shelf in the closet, changed her mind and took one of the photos and stuck it in the book. Just in case she needed proof when she talked to Ned and Clay. The rest of the pictures she hid at the bottom of the box. A noise behind her caught her attention.

  She whirled and found herself staring into the face of Steven’s killer.

  SIXTEEN

  Clay quietly rounded up a few of Wrangler’s Corner’s finest, and they all pitched in to look for Stan. Unfortunately to no avail.

  They returned to the party but kept an eye out for Stan. The man had left rehab with a goal in mind. To hunt down Sabrina and finish the job? But if it was Stan, why hadn’t anyone else seen him?

  Clay couldn’t spot him in the crowd.

 
Then again, the man knew how to hide. He knew the hills and the caves better than his own backyard. But around here? Where would he hide?

  Seth crutched his way over next to him. “What’s got you so on edge?”

  Clay told him about the pitchfork incident in the barn with Sabrina.

  Seth’s jaw tightened. “I’ll get my rifle.”

  “No, just keep an eye out for anyone who looks suspicious.”

  “Like who?”

  “Stan Prescott, for one.”

  “Where’s Sabrina now?”

  “In the house with Mom and Amber.”

  “Mom came outside a few minutes ago and so did Amber and the kids.”

  “But not Sabrina?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I don’t want her out here with Stan on the loose. I’m going to keep searching until I find and arrest him.”

  “Just to let you know, Mom said Sabrina was a gift. Apparently she cleaned up the kitchen.”

  Clay gave a slight smile. “Sounds like Sabrina.”

  Seth raised his eyebrows. “Is it serious between you two?”

  “I don’t know yet. It’s serious enough at this point I want it to be serious.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Clay shrugged. “We’ve known each other all our lives, and yet I feel like I’m just getting to know her. Although we’ve spent a lot of time together lately, it’s a little soon to jump into serious.”

  “Right.”

  “Right.” Clay let his gaze rove the property. The partygoers looked happy and well fed. The tables were picked over and the lemonade and tea pitchers drained. And the snow was holding off. “Steven would be proud.”

  “Yeah. The silent auction seems to be going well, too.”

  “Wish it was as easy to find a killer as it is to put on a barbecue,” Clay grunted.

  “Yeah.”

  Clay made his way to the house, grateful to have Ned’s and Lance’s help in watching out for Sabrina. If he just kept enough eyes on her, maybe that would be enough to deter the killer.

  He stopped when he saw his father standing alone, watching the fun with a sad look in his eyes. “Have you talked to Abe?”

  “No.”

  “What are you going to do about the ranch?”

  His father sighed. “There’s a horse auction next weekend. I’m going to take the five horses I think will bring the most money and sell them. That’ll keep us afloat for a few weeks while I figure out what to do next.”

  He squeezed his father’s shoulder. “We’ll work it out. I’m on my way in to check on Sabrina and see if she needs anything.”

  His dad nodded. “She’s a keeper.”

  Clay shook his head. “That seems to be the general consensus.” Lance came from around the corner of the house. “Everything all right?”

  Lance shook his head. “Got a call of a domestic disturbance. Ned told me to go check it out.”

  “Why you? You’re not even on duty.”

  Lance shrugged. “When the boss gives an order...”

  “Yeah. Yeah. All right, I’ll take over your coverage of the house.” He rubbed his hands together. “In fact, I’ll just go inside and fill Sabrina in.”

  “Don’t mind spending some time with her, huh?”

  Clay gave the man a small smile. “No, that’s one thing I don’t mind doing.”

  * * *

  Sabrina stared at the woman behind the gun. “Krissy? Why?”

  “Why what? Why do we want you dead? What exactly is your question?” She shoved Sabrina toward the window. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? Out the window.”

  “What?”

  “Out!”

  Sabrina took a step backward.

  Footsteps sounded in the hall. Krissy snapped a quick glance out, then back to Sabrina. “It’s a kid going to the bathroom.”

  She heard the door shut. Krissy gestured with the gun. “If you’re not out the window by the time the little guy comes out, I’ll shoot him.”

  Sabrina flinched. The hard eyes staring at her left her with no doubt the woman would do as she said. She couldn’t risk the child’s life. Still, she hesitated.

  The bathroom door opened, and Krissy stepped backward, just inside the bedroom door, pistol ready to swing around. “You really want to test me? I’m the one who killed Steven. I also killed Trey. One more won’t bother me much.”

  Sabrina sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm her pounding heart. She would find a way out, but she wouldn’t endanger a child. She moved to the window and lifted it. She climbed onto the sill and braced herself to run as soon as her feet hit the ground.

  She jumped. Her legs buckled, but she pushed herself up. She took one step. A hard hand over her mouth jolted her to a stop. Time slowed. She could hear the party going on around the corner of the house. She heard someone call her name. Clay?

  She saw the big brown car idling and then the strong arms holding her against a broad chest shoved her into the backseat of the vehicle. Time sped back up. Sabrina lashed out with her right foot and caught her attacker on the chin. He cursed and caught her foot. With a hard yank, he pulled her almost back out of the car. Then his fist caught her in the side of the head.

  Sabrina now understood what it meant to see stars. Daylight faded. She blinked and went limp, trying to regain her equilibrium, but dizziness hit her hard.

  Darkness wanted to take over. She fought it. Felt him duct-taping her ankles. Then her wrists. Terror threatened to smother her. While Clay had been looking for Stan Prescott, Stan Prescott had been looking for her.

  And now he had her.

  * * *

  Clay made his way into the house and stopped. Looked around.

  “Sabrina?” Nothing. He headed down the hall, checking each room as he went. “Sabrina?” When an entire search of the house turned up empty, panic tried to set in. He rushed back into the kitchen just as his mother stepped inside. “Have you seen Sabrina?”

  “I left her in my room looking over Steven’s things. She misses him, too.”

  Clay turned on his heel and made his way back to his parents’ bedroom. His mother stayed close behind him. Sabrina had left the box on the bed, neatly packed. Clay stared as emotion wanted to choke him. He pulled the items from the box. Steven’s little black comb, two wadded up ten-dollar bills and a few coins.

  “Where’s the book?” his mother asked.

  “What book?”

  “It was a paperback. One of the classics. Steven had it in his coat pocket when he was killed.”

  “And it’s gone now. Are you sure it was in here?”

  She made a sound of disgust. “Of course I’m sure. I just saw it.” She frowned. “Why would Sabrina take it?”

  “Maybe she loaned it to him. She said they often swapped books back and forth.”

  “But would she just take it without telling me? That doesn’t sound like her.”

  “No,” Clay agreed as fear clamped down on him. “No, it doesn’t.” He bolted from the room, through the kitchen and out the front door. He looked around and found Ned talking to Aaron. “Have you guys seen Sabrina?”

  “No,” Ned said. “Have you seen Krissy? Lance asked me to let her know her brother called and her mother’s taken a turn for the worse. I was just telling Aaron I may go see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  “I saw Krissy in the kitchen with Sabrina not too long ago. She said she saw Stan Prescott hovering nearby. Any chance you’ve spotted him?”

  “No.” Aaron grimaced. “He knows better than to show his face around here.”

  “Maybe not.”

  Clay raced back to the house and into his parents’ bedroom, looking for some kind of clue. Sabrina had last been seen here. But his
search turned up nothing.

  He called her cell phone, and it went straight to voice mail.

  “Clay? I’m getting ready to leave, but what’s going on?” Ned asked from behind him.

  He turned. “Sabrina’s missing. Can you ping her phone?”

  Ned didn’t stop to ask questions, just got on his phone to get the deed done.

  Clay ran back out and questioned each guest, asking the same question over and over. “Have you seen Sabrina?”

  Each time he got a negative answer, his despair deepened.

  Until Tony Zellis pulled on his sleeve. “I saw her. They put her in that car.”

  Clay knelt, doing his best to keep his desperation under control. “What car, son?”

  “The big brown one.”

  “Who put her in the car?”

  “The lady. And the man. I was going to tell her to stop, but they left before I could.”

  A lady?

  A big brown car?

  “They put her in, you said. Was she walking or were they carrying her?”

  “She was walking kind of funny. Like my mom does sometimes when she drinks a lot. Ms. Sabrina came out of the window and the man helped her down.”

  Clay pinched the bridge of his nose. “Came out of the window?”

  “Uh-huh. And the man grabbed her, and the lady climbed out after her.”

  Think, man. “What did the man look like?”

  Tony shrugged. “A man.” He frowned. “Is Ms. Sabrina going to be okay?”

  “Yes.” Clay forced a smile. “If I have anything to say about it, she will be.”

  “Okay. Good. I like her.”

  “Yeah,” Clay whispered. “Me, too.”

  Who had a big brown car? What lady and what man? He looked around, trying to see who was missing, but there were at least sixty people mingling in the yard, coming and going from the house, and gathered around the bonfire. Unless he called for a head count, he wasn’t going to be able to figure it out.

  Had someone helped Stan snatch Sabrina with the party going on?

  A cold ball of fear formed in his gut. Surely not. He moved to the back of the house. Stan Prescott stood at the edge of the trees, right where Krissy had said she’d spotted him earlier. Clay raced toward the man. “Stan!”