Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1

by Lisa Phillips

  “Is it going to help?”

  “You’re the only one who can find the answer to that, John.”

  Gees, he liked the way she said his name.

  John ran his hands down his face. The reality was, for the first time his judgment could be called into question. Andra’s future rested on his ability to do this job impartially. But more than that, he needed to find the real killer. Because if something happened to her when he could have prevented it, the one who wasn’t going to survive this was him.

  Andra started humming, a warm sound that was partly the song and partly the cadence of her voice. John picked up his coffee cup and took a sip, finding a second to just breathe in the middle of all this.

  The back door slammed open.

  John jerked. The coffee sloshed and spilled on the leg of his pants. He shot to his feet. “Pat!”

  The kid didn’t falter. “I think Aaron knows who killed Betty.”

  Chapter 20

  “He was right here.”

  John turned, scanning the park while his son did the same thing beside him. “He’s not here now. Tell me what he said.”

  Pat’s brow wrinkled. His face was red with concern for his friend. “It wasn’t like he just said it. It was like Aaron-speak, you know. Something about blood and bricks and clothes. Don’t tell. Like that.”

  “Okay.” John put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Let’s find him.” He reached for his radio. It wasn’t on his belt. He must have left it on the desk. “Come on.”

  They went back to the office, where Andra was deep breathing. She was asleep, now? John’s full cup of coffee was probably cold, and his radio wasn’t there. He snapped up the phone and found Dotty’s home number in the list in his binder.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Sheriff Mason. I need an address on Aaron…I don’t know his last name.”

  “No one does, dear. Try number thirty-two, A Street. The house is on the north side, halfway down. It’s been converted into one room apartments and his is in the loft, I believe.”

  “Thank you, Dotty.”

  “When we get some time, I’ll show you how to look up addresses on the computer.” John hung up and turned to Pat. “Maybe you should stay here and keep Andra company.”

  Pat glanced at her and back at John, a look on his face. Okay, so she was asleep and she didn’t need company. Parents weren’t always logical.

  The boy lifted his chin. “I’m coming with you.”

  John didn’t waste time arguing. Who knew what had happened? They drove to Aaron’s while John tried to figure out where his radio was. He’d had it earlier at the sheriff’s office. Before Palmer left, John set it on the desk. He needed to find it, and soon, since it was the only point of contact between Sanctuary and the outside world. Had somebody taken it? Was that why?

  The yard at Aaron’s was a mess of weeds. The flowerbed was just dirt and some grass that’d migrated toward the house. John pounded on the door and then realized he probably didn’t need to do that now he was a Sheriff and not a marshal. At least he hadn’t yelled, “U.S. Marshals! Open up!” That would have been embarrassing.

  He relaxed his hand and tried to knock politely.

  The door swung open. Bill’s t-shirt was dirty with Cheetos finger swipes. A distinctly sweet, earthy odor wafted from inside and his eyes widened.

  John shook his head at the smell. “Dude, seriously?” If the kid’s testimony hadn’t already been questionable, it definitely was now.

  Bill sputtered. “What? I’ve been stressed out.”

  “I’m not here for that right now. I’m looking for Aaron.”

  “You and the little deputy came to the right place.” His smile faltered. “Uh…I’ll…go get him for you.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Aaron!”

  “I’d like to come in.”

  “That might not be a good idea.” Bill swallowed. “Sheriff.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

  Bill frowned and looked back at stairs covered with seventies-style floral carpet. “Aaron, get down here!”

  Pat ducked under Bill’s elbow and sprinted up the stairs. Bill yelled, “Little deputy!” and ran after him.

  John followed them up, making a point not to look into the living room. He didn’t want to know what he’d see on the coffee table. He’d deal with the fact someone was growing weed they’d smuggled into Sanctuary. Later, when he wasn’t trying to solve a murder. It wasn’t like any of them were going anywhere.

  “Dad!”

  The two of them crowded on the stairs. Aaron was at the top, lying face down, with blood on the back of his head.

  “Who has been here?”

  Bill jerked his head side-to-side. “No one, man.”

  “Pat, run for the doctor.”

  Bill turned to him. “Be quicker if you took him yourself.”

  John checked Aaron’s pupils and took a look at the wound. He gathered the young man up in his arms. When he saw the smudge of blood inside on the frame of the front door, he paused and looked at Bill. “Where did this come from?”

  It looked like someone with bloody fingers had touched the door on their way inside.

  “I have no idea, man. That wasn’t me.”

  John stepped outside and strode to the Jeep. Aaron had been attacked and made it home to the place he felt safe. Why had he tried to hide it? Who had done this?

  **

  Andra shifted on the bed but couldn’t seem to open her eyes. Her head was a fog. This wasn’t her bed. The thought was enough to pry her eyes open.

  Bars.

  She was still in the Sanctuary holding cell.

  Booted feet crossed the floor tiles, the muted steps belonging to a dark figure Andra could barely make out through the cloud obscuring her vision.

  What was wrong with her? It was like her brain was awake but her body wouldn’t cooperate with what she was telling it to do. She couldn’t even lift her arms. Her head would only turn a fraction. She tried to sit up. No, that didn’t work either.

  What was…what was going on?

  The figure moved to John’s desk, then away to the door and it clicked shut.

  Andra tried to rise but she couldn’t.

  Where was John?

  **

  John started his evidence search at the park. He walked from there to Aaron’s residence, using the most direct route. He found nothing, so he pounded on the door again.

  No answer.

  As John walked back to the park, he scanned everything from the other direction. In case he’d missed something on the first walk-through.

  A Sanctuary resident had attacked Aaron. Likely they were warning him in a more compelling way not to tell anyone what he knew, but the plan had backfired. If Aaron could tell him what he knew, this might be John’s chance to get the information he needed and close the case.

  Could Aaron really have witnessed the murder? He could simply be remembering some other traumatic experience. This could be nothing but PTSD and a nasty accident. Aaron could’ve thought it wasn’t too bad and made it to his place before he collapsed on the stairs.

  Until Aaron woke up, John wouldn’t know for sure.

  He was almost to the park when something in a shrub caught his attention. A rusty pipe had been tossed into the bush. John pulled on a pair of latex gloves and picked it up. Blood and hair was stuck to the end. He was going to have to take prints from this, too. It was attempted murder. At least until Aaron woke up…or didn’t.

  John took pictures, stowed the metal pipe in a brown evidence sack from his trunk and got it all noted down. This wasn’t looking like Aaron had an accident of his own accord. Whoever hit him had tossed the pipe in the bush to hide their actions. But who? Aaron was lean, but he could still be strong enough if he needed to defend himself.

  Aaron had no problem showing his back. He’d done it in the sheriff’s office plenty of times when his mind was on the intricacies of his mail delivery. That could have happened this time, if he
was preoccupied with everything that had gone down.

  Whoever hit him must have rushed up on him from behind and took him by surprise. Was it someone he was comfortable enough with to feel safe…until he was struck?

  John didn’t like any of it, least of all the fact his son was caught up in this. Pat and the murder investigation were supposed to have remained two separate things. Did whoever attacked Aaron know the young man shared something with John’s son? If they tried again, would they try to silence Pat?

  John parked outside the medical center. The reception desk was empty although two people waited to see the doctor.

  John strode straight to the hall, where Pat was sitting. “Hey, any word?” His son shook his head, so John crouched in front of him. “Doctor Fenton is with him?”

  “He didn’t wake up.”

  “I’m sure Doctor Fenton will patch him up.”

  At least, John hoped so. He sat, using an arm around his son’s shoulder to pull Pat into his side. The clock ticked, the only sound in the hall until Fenton emerged from Aaron’s room, typing onto a tablet with one finger. The fact the doctor had computerized records when so much of Sanctuary was woefully outdated was surprising. How long would it take John to get a handle on everything going on in this town?

  Pat jumped up from his chair.

  John said to the doctor, “How is Aaron?”

  “Stable. I patched up his head. We won’t know how he is until he wakes up and I can check his mental status.”

  John didn’t envy the man that job. Aaron struggled with straight answers at the best of times.

  “Can I sit with him?”

  Doctor Fenton looked at John, who nodded. He glanced back at Pat. “So long as you’re quiet and you let Aaron rest.”

  Pat let himself in the room.

  John waited until he shut the door. “I found a pipe.”

  Fenton nodded. “It was a good, solid blow. He has cranial swelling, so we’ll have to wait until that goes down before he’s likely to be coherent. He could be asleep for hours.”

  “I want someone protecting him.”

  Fenton lifted his arms and let them fall. “I’m working solo. That’s not something I can provide.”

  “I’ll make a call.”

  “You can use the front desk phone.” The doctor strode away. He reached the end of the hall and looked down at his tablet. “Mrs. Culler?”

  It didn’t take long for Bolton to pull up outside the medical center. John met the rancher on the sidewalk. Both doors of the truck opened and Matthias climbed out also. He lifted his chin to John and went inside.

  Bolton came around to where John stood on the sidewalk. “He wanted to make sure Pat was okay.”

  What was John supposed to make of that? He didn’t want to be suspicious, but what twenty-six year old man made friends with an eight year old? Given everything that’d happened, John had to be cautious. It could be perfectly innocent, a kid who clearly needed friends. And a man who could relate, and was willing to give Pat time out of his day.

  “Diego is off on one of his benders. Matthias doesn’t want to sit around at home wondering what his brother is up to, so he’s distracting himself.”

  “Diego gets up to trouble?”

  Bolton nodded, clearly disturbed about something. “And I can’t figure out who or where, but someone is making moonshine. Probably up in the mountains.”

  “Seriously?” First weed, and now moonshine. Couldn’t these people just live within the boundaries that had been set for them? “Why does it feel as if this job is going to be like trying to babysit a bunch of rebellious teenagers?”

  Bolton laughed. “Why do you think I prefer my cattle?”

  John figured the man had a solid point. He’d known there was a reason Bolton turned down the job. If this was it, John didn’t blame him even if he had been Grant’s first choice. Still, John was the one getting stuck with the crappy end of the stick.

  “So how’s Aaron?”

  “Still unconscious. He was hit on the back of the head with something hard but not sharp. I found a pipe. Once he wakes up, Doctor Fenton will run some tests. We won’t know anything until then.”

  The big man blew out a breath. “That’s rough. He’s a good kid.”

  “Yeah? I mean, Aaron seemed nice and Pat likes him. But I wasn’t sure.”

  Bolton folded his arms. “Watched his dad kill his mom and then agreed to testify against his dad, who was this big time preacher. TV shows and all that, thousands of people in his congregation. Turns out on the side he has millions in gambling debts and owes most of it to the mob. Your brother pulled some strings and had him brought here. I think it’s been good for him.”

  “Wow.” Given Aaron’s aptitude for coordinating the mail delivery, John was inclined to agree. Grant had done a good thing. “Thanks for coming. I appreciate your help.”

  “I’ll be here. Matthias will stay until Aaron wakes up. After that we can switch off.”

  “Matthias can protect them both if you’re not here?”

  Bolton nodded. “I trained all my guys. Matthias will call when Aaron wakes up and I’ll bring them back to the ranch.”

  “Think you can get Aaron to tell you what he knows?”

  Bolton nodded. “If we give him time and make him feel safe enough, I think he will. And I have a secret weapon.”

  “Truth serum?” John didn’t have much time. He needed to get to the bottom of this. If it was days before Aaron said anything…Andra was going to be taken from town on Monday, when the transport came. John couldn’t help thinking that if she went, she would never be able to come back.

  He had four days to solve this case before Andra was done in Sanctuary.

  “Not truth serum. Horses.” Bolton smirked. “Some people like them.”

  John narrowed his eyes.

  “Aaron loves them. We’ll take care of him, and the horses will settle him. Pat being there will help and with Diego gone we have an even better chance. I’ll let you know.”

  John led the big man inside. Doctor Fenton was at his front desk with one person now in the waiting area.

  Bolton rested his elbows on the counter. “Harriett’s out today?”

  The doctor’s mouth betrayed how he felt about that, but he didn’t glance up from the computer. “Turns out I can do both jobs, since hers requires almost no brainpower and only a minimal amount of computer skills.”

  John got down to business. “Bolton and Matthias will switch-off staying with Pat and Aaron. No one else gets in the room except you.”

  The doctor looked taken aback for a moment. He nodded.

  “I need to get back to the office. I don’t like leaving Andra alone.” Plus it was getting dark. She would need something to eat pretty soon. “You’ll send someone and let me know? My radio is AWOL right now.”

  Bolton nodded and they shook hands. “If this stretches into tomorrow, Pat can bunk with the boys for a couple days.”

  John smiled. “He would probably love that.”

  “Yeah, the four a.m. wake up call for chores before breakfast will be fun for the first day at least.”

  John chuckled and went in to tell Pat goodbye. His son was laughing at something Matthias had said. “Hey, I appreciate this.”

  “No worries.” Matthias shrugged. “Gets me out of evening chores. But don’t tell the boss I said that.”

  “Bye, Pat.” John squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Let me know when Aaron wakes up, okay?”

  Pat nodded and gave him a small smile. John drove back to the sheriff’s office. The back door was still locked, not that it had stopped someone stealing Andra’s file. She was in the holding cell, sitting and rubbing her head.

  “You okay?”

  She looked up, her eyes glassy. John unlocked the cell and crouched in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I…something…”

  He touched her cheeks, scanning her face before he held her gaze to get her to focus on him. “Go slow. Te
ll me what happened.”

  “I feel weird.” She paused a moment as though measuring her words. “Slow, like I’ve been drugged.”

  “You haven’t had anything except coffee.”

  John didn’t want to register how soft her cheeks were, or how big her eyes were up close. The hardness he’d seen over the last couple of days as her past was revealed and Palmer had arrested her, was now gone. John took a moment to study her when she wasn’t trying to keep him at a distance.

  “That must be it.” She nodded. “I just haven’t had anything to eat, so the coffee went to my head.”

  John wasn’t convinced. “I’ll get you something to eat, but I want Doctor Fenton to come and look at you.”

  She shook her head before he’d even finished talking. “No. I’m okay, really. I just need water and something to eat. It’ll pass.”

  John left her sitting on the cot and shut her in. If he called the diner, could he have Sam send someone over with two meals? He snapped up the phone—

  His radio was on the desk.

  John set the phone back down and turned to Andra. “How long has this been here?”

  She blinked and glanced at it. “I have no idea. You didn’t have it?”

  “It wasn’t here before. Then I was busy getting Aaron medical attention.” He saw the question on her face and said, “He’s okay for now. We’ll know for sure when he wakes up.”

  Her gaze darkened; her eyes much clearer now. “And you didn’t have it?”

  “No.”

  It had been gone and then reappeared? John was surer now someone could have taken it. Could they have drugged Andra so she didn’t know?

  He rubbed his eyes, then stared at the cold coffee on his desk. At the half-full pot. Could whoever killed Betty have drugged his coffee, attacked Aaron and then come to the sheriff’s office to use his phone?

  “Was anyone in here when I was gone?”

  She glanced to the side. “I can’t really remember.”

  John sat back in his chair. What would have happened if he’d drunk his coffee? Would he have been passed out on the floor like Andra while Aaron bled to death? Pat would have found him unconscious, unable to help. John would have been here while someone was in the office, helpless to defend Andra if they’d tried anything. And if Pat had been there, too…