by Lynn Shannon
“Me too.”
Luke had hoped she would come forward and reveal her identity now that Dan was exposed, but that hadn’t happened.
“We haven’t given up on finding her,” he said. “There’s a strong rodeo connection between Quentin, Franny, and Kyle. Maybe she’s a part of that group.”
“Chad was also involved in the rodeo.”
“We interviewed him again yesterday. He brought his attorney, and they played hardball. He admitted to knowing all of these people, but I can’t figure out his role in this. If there is one.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Dan had to be covering something up for him.”
“That’s my impression too. And the family, in general, was against our investigation. But Dan was focused on becoming the next sheriff. Maybe Chad did something illegal, something unrelated to Franny’s murder, and Dan covered it up to get in the family’s good graces.”
“I could see that,” Megan said. “He was stealing from the evidence room. It doesn’t seem like a stretch to believe he would cover up someone else’s crime. Makes you wonder how many others he’s done that for.”
“Well, along with auditing the evidence room, we’re going to look at every single one of Dan’s cases for that very reason. It’ll take a long time to go through everything, but I don’t want anything overlooked. I also don’t think we’re at the end of this drug ring either. Kyle doesn’t know much, but he’s lower level.”
Just another reason why they needed to get their hands on Dan. It was like the man had disappeared into thin air. No one had seen his truck or him. Frustration nipped at Luke and he took a deep breath.
Lord, I know You have Your own timing, but finding some clue as to Dan’s whereabouts would be really helpful.
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, as the sun sank behind the trees.
“Have you talked to your dad?” Megan asked.
“Not since we had lunch the other day.”
It’d been brief, since Luke was in the middle of a massive investigation, but long overdue. Patrick had given a heartfelt apology, and Luke had sorely underestimated the healing it would offer.
“Maybe when things settle down, we can all get together.”
“I’d like that.” She stood from the hay bale and stretched. “Goodness, I’m getting old. When I was a kid, I could sit on those forever. Did I ever tell you my dad built a special spot for me in the hayloft of our barn?”
“No. I knew you liked to hang in the barn and think, but I never knew why.”
“It was quiet. Wade had colic when he was a baby and a very healthy set of lungs.” She swiped the hay off the back of her jeans. “I used to hang out in the barn to get away from the house. My daddy noticed, and he set up this special place for me in the hayloft. I used to go up there and read or write in my diary. I even had—”
She froze and her eyes widened.
“What is it?” Luke looked behind him, but no one was there.
Megan yanked on the chain around her neck and pulled out the key attached. Her fingers closed around it.
“I think I know what this goes to.”
It only took five minutes to travel the distance between Luke’s property and June’s, but Megan’s mind raced the entire way.
“I can’t believe I never thought of it,” she said, silently urging Luke to put more pressure on the gas pedal. “June knew I was struggling after my parents’ death, and she built me a similar hangout space in her hayloft. It’s so simple and obvious.”
“How long has it been since you used the loft?”
“Not since freshman year in high school. Life got too busy after that, but when I was younger, I would hide things in the rafters to prevent Wade from finding them.”
Luke pulled into June’s driveway and shoved the vehicle into park. “What makes you think June would’ve done the same?”
“Because she specifically told Quentin’s family to stay quiet about her investigation.” Megan clambered out of the truck. “My aunt knew this investigation was dangerous. Her office was inside her house, and June was smart enough to figure out Dan would’ve done anything to silence her and destroy her notes.”
Lights flashed behind them as Sheriff Franklin drove up. Megan had a moment’s hesitation when they’d called him, but Franny’s murder was still within his jurisdiction and he’d been cleared by the ranger team.
“Thanks for coming so quickly, Sheriff,” Luke said.
“You caught me at a good time.” He huddled farther down into his coat as a wind rustled the leaves. “I was on my way home.”
Megan flipped on her cell phone’s light to guide her way across the yard. Luke fell into step beside her, carrying a heavy-duty flashlight. The sheriff’s portable radio crackled, and dispatch said something Megan couldn’t make out. Sheriff Franklin answered before running to catch up.
The barn door creaked open. Megan didn’t bother with the light switch. Power had been turned off to the property after the fire. She quickly climbed the stairs to the hayloft, the men following behind. Luckily, it was well built and big enough for all of them.
Sheriff Franklin ducked to prevent knocking his head against the ceiling. “Okay, what are we looking for?”
Megan turned in a circle, shining her light on the ceiling. “Anything tucked inside the rafters. I’m not sure what June would’ve put up here, but my guess is, we’ll need a key to open it.”
Luke’s flashlight was much better, and he swept it across the wooden beams. Something metallic caught Megan’s eye in the far rear corner. A pile of hay blocked the way.
She pointed. “There.”
Sheriff Franklin pulled a camera out of his pocket. “Shine your flashlight over there, Luke.”
Megan bounced on the balls of her feet as the lawmen went through the procedures necessary to preserve the evidence. It took everything in her not to scream at them to hurry. Finally, Luke handed his flashlight to the sheriff and climbed up on the hay bales.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a portable safe.”
Luke grunted and pulled, nearly knocking himself off his perch in the process, but finally made it down with the safe. He set it on the ground, and Megan shoved her phone in her jacket pocket. Her fingers trembled as she unclasped the chain around her neck.
The sheriff continued to take pictures. Megan sucked in a deep breath and glanced at Luke. He nodded. She stuck the key in the lock and turned.
The safe clicked opened. Thank you, Lord.
Her heart thundered. She pulled back the lid. Inside were several file folders, labeled in her aunt’s neat hand, but it was the edges of a moleskin journal that caught Megan’s eye. She pulled it out and opened it. Unfamiliar scrawls lined the pages.
The sheriff’s edged closer. “That’s Franny’s handwriting.”
“It’s her journal.”
Megan ran her finger down the page, scanning it. Nothing on the page was about Dan. Franny was complaining about her dad and how she was determined to get answers for what he’d done. She was angry with him, although Megan couldn’t figure out why.
Luke had already removed a file folder and opened it.
“Megs, these are copies of your aunt’s investigation notes. There are also copies of official reports, including the ones that went missing.” He flashed the page so she could see it, although it was too dark to make out more than the Medina County Sheriff Department logo at the top. “Here’s Chad’s original interview.”
“Hold on, guys.” Sheriff Franklin held up his hands. “We all want to go through this box, but we should do it back at the department, not in the middle of a hay loft.”
“He’s right.” Luke frowned and closed the file folder. “I should call Lieutenant Rodriguez and inform her as well. She may want Weston to join us.”
With reluctance, Megan set the journal back inside the safe. How had her aunt gotten her hands on it? And what was in those pages, in Franny’s thoughts,
that could help their case?
Luke closed the lid but didn’t bother locking it. “Let’s go.”
Within minutes, the safe was loaded between the front seats of Luke’s vehicle and they were on the road. The sheriff led the way in his own patrol car.
“This changes everything.” Megan’s leg jittered against the seat. “Right?”
“It definitely gives us a new angle.” He reached out and took her head. “Great job, Megs. We wouldn’t have found it without you.”
“Not until June woke up anyway—What’s wrong?”
“Looks like the sheriff is having car trouble.” Luke stopped behind the patrol truck. The country road was dark and empty, so neither man bothered to pull off to the side. “Hold on a sec.”
Luke hopped out, joined the sheriff, and together the two men popped open the hood. She couldn’t hear their words, only a few muffled murmurs. Megan’s phone rang. Grace’s name flashed on screen.
She answered without saying hello. “Did you get my text? Isn’t it amazing—"
“Megs, listen.” Her friend’s tone was sharp. “I don’t think Dan was working alone—”
A gunshot rang out.
Sheriff Franklin fell against his patrol truck before crumpling to the ground. Someone screamed. Luke dove for the ground, disappearing from view.
Glass shattered as more bullets flew. Megan undid her seat belt and ducked into the wheel well. Someone was still screaming, and it took her three rapid heartbeats to realize it was her. She snapped her mouth shut.
“Megan! Megan!”
Grace’s voice came from far away. The passenger side door opened as bullets pelted the Suburban. Luke shoved her head down farther, his fingers tangling in her hair. The windshield shattered, raining squares of glass down on top of them.
Silence. It was eerily loud in the wake of the gunshots. Megan was dizzy.
“Breathe, babe,” Luke commanded. “Breathe.”
She sucked in a gulp of air. Her heart was hammering like a jackrabbit. Luke pulled her from the wheel well. “You hit?”
Megan ran a hand over her chest. “No. You?”
“No.”
He yanked his backup weapon from his boot and handed it to her, before reaching in the vehicle and unlatching his rifle. His radio crackled and dispatch directed backup to respond to their exact location.
God bless, Grace. She’d alerted authorities—probably by calling Weston—and they’d used the GPS locator in Luke’s state vehicle to find them. Still, judging from the rapid chat on the radio, it would take a while for backup to arrive.
“He must want what’s in the safe.” Luke scanned the tree line on the other side of the Suburban. “The shooter put himself high to get a line of sight, but now he’s coming to check if we’re dead.”
Her hands trembled. She sucked in another breath. “Franny’s journal. He has to be after the journal.”
Luke reached inside the vehicle and fished it out of the safe. He handed it to her.
“Take cover in the woods before he gets here and don’t look back. Don’t wait for me.” He kissed her hard. “No matter what you hear, no matter what happens, run.”
She hugged the journal to her chest. “What about you?”
“The sheriff is wounded. I can’t leave him unprotected.” He lifted his rifle. “Now go!”
There was no time for arguments, no chance for debate. He didn’t give it to her. Luke pushed her toward the trees. Megan darted across the asphalt, the canopy of safety too far away. Shots rang out. Something whizzed past her ear and she nearly screamed.
Run. Run. Run.
She burst across the tree line and tripped over a root. She stumbled and caught herself on a nearby pine. Bark scraped the skin on the outer edge of her hand. The rush of her heartbeat mingled with the sharp intake of her own breath.
She turned back to the road. Luke lay in the middle of the asphalt, a dark stain spreading underneath him. Megan lunged toward him. Bile rose in the back of her throat.
No, Lord, no. Not Luke. Please, God, we’ve just found each other again.
A shadowy figure stepped from the opposite tree line, a rifle held ready. Megan ducked. The tree next to her head exploded, spraying bark and shards of wood.
She spun on her heel and took off. If the shooter wanted Franny’s journal, then he could come and take it. Distracting him would give backup time to arrive and help Luke and Sheriff Franklin.
The trees flew past. The scent of leaves and dirt and her own fear choked her. She tripped over another root and slammed to the ground. Luke’s gun sailed out of her hand, landing in the bushes. She crawled over, her hands patting the earth while desperate seconds ticked by.
A rustle came from the leaves. Megan bolted to her feet, leaving the gun behind, and ran. The trees thinned. A lake shimmered in the moonlight. The house Franny had been killed in wasn’t far.
Her legs trembling and her lungs burning, Megan was forced to slow down. How had the shooter figured out they’d found the journal?
Don’t trust anyone.
Her aunt’s voice mail held a warning she needed to heed. Chest heaving, Megan’s gaze darted around, and she spotted a fallen branch covered in bushes. Slipping her hands between the branches, she shoved Franny’s journal underneath the log. She wasn’t taking any chances.
Deed done, she raced along the edge of the tree line around the lake. The roads intersected on the west side. If she could get there, she could find help. She willed more power into her legs.
A figure darted out from the bushes and blocked her path. She gasped and drew up short, skidding against the wet pine needles and nearly falling backward. Dressed in camouflage and boots, night-vision goggles hung round his neck, Heath Dickerson pointed a rifle straight at Megan’s heart.
Twenty-Two
“Give me the journal,” Heath demanded.
Megan heart thundered against her ribcage. She backed up a step.
“Don’t move,” he barked. “And don’t even think about lying. I know you retrieved it from June’s barn. I have a police scanner and heard every word Sheriff Franklin said to dispatch.”
She swallowed. “I don’t have it.”
“It wasn’t in Luke’s truck, so I’ll ask one more time before I shoot.” His tone was hard. “Where. Is. The. Journal?”
Think. Think. She pulled air into her lungs. “I hid it.”
He glared at her for a long heartbeat. “Unzip your jacket.”
She did, opening it wide so he could see the journal wasn’t tucked inside. She lifted it and turned around.
He rushed her, wrapped a hand around her throat, and shoved her against a tree. “I ought to choke the living daylights out of you.”
A branch dug into the back of her head. Heat rose in her body as Heath squeezed tighter. Megan couldn’t breathe. She grasped his hand in a futile attempt to break his hold. Her lungs burned and her vision blurred.
He released her and she tumbled to the ground. She wheezed.
“Get up. Show me where you hid the journal.” He bent down, his hot breath whispering along her cheek. “I can make your death easy, or painful. The choice is yours.”
Megan drew in shallow breaths. Sharp pain stabbed her lungs. “Okay. I’ll take you.”
She used the tree as support and staggered to her feet. Like a drunk, she weaved. Megan closed her eyes, willing her body to cooperate. She’d bought time, and every second meant hope.
Luke had taught her that.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she battled them back. She couldn’t think about Luke or she would lose it. She needed to focus. Slipping her hand into her jacket pocket, Megan unlocked her phone. Blindly, using only muscle memory, she hit the call button. If luck was with her, Grace would answer and record the conversation.
“Why do you want the journal?” Megan moved the speaker of her phone outward, praying it would pick up their words.
He laughed. “Your last minutes on earth and that’s what you want to discus
s.”
“If I’m going to die, I might as well know why.” She needed to get his confession, and the best way was to appeal to his ego. “Your plan was brilliant. You’ve kept us running in circles.”
Heath chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. “I did have y’all chasing your tails, didn’t I?”
Megan let out the breath she was holding. Her hunch was right. At his core, Heath was a show-off and desperate for a chance to brag about his accomplishments.
“So, go on and tell me. Franny figured out you were working with Dan to steal from the evidence room, didn’t she?”
Heath’s expression hardened. “She betrayed me. Sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. Sheriff Franklin promised me she would only work on the historical cases. He was wrong.”
“When did she figure out you were involved?”
“Two weeks before her death, she caught me in the evidence room. I gave her an excuse, but I could tell she wasn’t buying it.”
Based on evidence the rangers found, a small dig into the records would’ve revealed things were missing from the evidence room. Franny had deduced her father was working with people in the sheriff’s department, and she’d tried to figure out who. It was a brave move for the young woman to take and she’d paid with her life.
“It was smart to team up with Dan,” Megan said, appealing again to his ego. “How did you two start working together?”
“I needed fast cash. Dan wanted to be the next sheriff, and I had the influence to make that happen. It was a win-win.” He shoved the rifle muzzle into her back. “Walk faster.”
She picked up her pace half a beat. “Did you hire Quentin, or was that Dan?”
“Me. I knew Quentin from the rodeo days. We stored the guns and drugs we took from the evidence room on my ranch, and he picked them up for sale.”
“Things must have been going well for you until Quentin figured out you’d given the okay for Dan to kill your daughter.”
Megan was taking a guess, but it was an educated one. The chief deputy wouldn’t have murdered Franny without Heath’s permission.