Pursued

by Lisa Harris

  Large slivers of glass lay on the back step. Nikki looked up at the door. The window above the handle had been smashed.

  “Jack … Sheriff … ,” she hollered. “I’ve got something.”

  21

  2:34 p.m.

  Pope residence

  Avoiding the pile of glass on the back step, Nikki quickly put on a latex glove, then reached for the door handle, careful to avoid smearing any fingerprints.

  The sheriff and Jack appeared around the side of the house as she swung open the door. “Someone’s been here. They broke the glass and unlocked the door.”

  “I swear this wasn’t like this when I came by here yesterday.” The sheriff rested his hands against his hips and frowned. “The house was locked up, with no sign of forced entry. No sign of tampering with any of the locks. But this …”

  “I noticed the grass is damp.” Nikki bent down and picked up one of the shards of glass. “When did it rain last around here?”

  “A little over an hour ago,” the sheriff said.

  “These are all dry, which narrows down our time frame.”

  Gun raised, Nikki stepped inside the house in front of the men, then the three began clearing the premises. They met back in the living room a couple minutes later.

  “A child’s been staying here,” Nikki said, holstering her weapon. “There are toys on the living room floor. A booster chair in the kitchen.”

  She reached down and picked up a worn teddy bear lying on the floor next to the couch. She ran her fingers across the pudgy stomach of the soft bear before turning it over. There was a name tag hand sewn on the back of the animal.

  Lily.

  Nikki glanced at the back door with the shattered window. When the sheriff had come by, there had been no sign of an intruder. Which put the time of the breakin within the last hour. Memories of her dream washed over her afresh. Lily sitting on a narrow ledge wearing a white dress …

  Where are you, Lily—

  “Nikki?”

  She looked up at Jack, still holding the stuffed bear. “Lily was staying here. Her name’s sewn into the label. And look at this”—she pointed to a picture of a small girl on an end table—“I bet that’s Lily. She looks just like Erika.”

  “Looks like you were right about all of this,” the sheriff said, “but what do you think happened? There’s no sign of foul play. No blood. No signs of a struggle. No obvious signs that a crime took place, except that someone broke in and searched the house. Seemingly after Frank, Helen—and Lily—left.”

  Nikki held the bear against her chest, taking in the scene before responding to his question. “Erika decides to help the FBI in order to take down Russell and make sure she gets complete custody, but she needs Lily out of the way and safe until things with the FBI are over.”

  “So she brings her here,” Jack said.

  “If she was trying to protect her daughter, it makes sense why she didn’t tell anyone Lily was staying with them.” Nikki looked up at the men. “But if we could make the connection between Erika and the Popes, so could Russell.”

  “We could have a team sent out here to search for prints, but I’m not sure we’ll find anything.”

  Something crashed outside, turning Nikki’s gaze toward the nearest window.

  “Someone’s out there,” she said, running for the back door.

  Halfway down the steps, she saw a man wearing a black hoodie and carrying something small in his hand slip into the shadows of a red barn toward the corner of the property.

  “I’ll head around to the back in case he tries to flee that direction,” Jack said, running beside her. “You two go through the front.”

  Nikki made it to the barn before the sheriff, then paused for a few seconds at the barn door, waiting for him to catch up. The door squeaked open as Nikki pushed against it with her foot and stepped into the dimly lit space. Gripping her flashlight like an ice pick, she steadied her gun in her right hand. She paused long enough to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Like the outside of the property, the space was filled with old cars and a tractor, a pile of metal signs, and more old parts. The only light, besides her flashlight and that of the sheriff’s beside her, was random holes in the wall letting in narrow rays of sunlight across the dusty floor.

  A floorboard squeaked to the left. Nikki re-angled her flashlight, throwing a beam of white light across the barn floor. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as a rat ran across her shoe. She stumbled backward, barely avoiding a huge cobweb in the corner. The rodent skittered off under one of the cars.

  Seriously?

  Nikki refocused in the dim light. This might have been a workspace for Mr. Pope in the past, but it seemed pretty clear that he didn’t spend a lot of time out here anymore. The space looked like it had been neglected for years.

  Something creaked again on the other side of the barn. And this time, it was too loud to be a rodent.

  Nikki signaled at the sheriff on her right, then, staying in the shadows, made her way along the edge of the building, looking for signs of their trespasser. She glanced up at the loft above her. Whoever was in here had to be connected somehow to Lily. Sunlight burst through the back of the barn as their suspect slammed out the back door and headed across the property toward the street.

  Where was Jack?

  “Jack!” Nikki shouted, lungs heaving as she took off after their trespasser. “We found our runner.”

  But there was still no sign of Jack.

  Nikki ran beside the sheriff, shouting at their trespasser. “This is the police! Stop where you are and put your hands in the air where I can see them.”

  The man turned, paused for an instant, then continued tearing across the field. Nikki caught sight of Jack, who was chasing a second man a couple hundred yards ahead of her.

  With a forced burst of energy, Nikki bridged the gap between her prey and herself. Seconds later, she was able to wrestle him to the ground before pressing her boot into the man’s back so he couldn’t move. Taking a step back, she pointed her weapon at the man’s torso while the sheriff handcuffed him, then pulled off his hood to reveal dark, curly hair and stud earrings.

  Sheriff Porter shoved him over with the toe of his boot. “I’ve got two questions for you, son, and I want the truth on both counts. Who are you, and what are you doing on the Popes’ property?”

  “I wasn’t doing anything. Just looking for the main road back to Nashville.”

  “With your friend?” Nikki asked.

  “We’re traveling together.”

  “Right … ,” Nikki said. “And you ended up here, poking around a stranger’s barn? You must not have seen the NO TRESSPASSING signs. Besides that, you’re a little out of the way from the main road back to Nashville.”

  His eyes kept shifting toward the driveway. “I was doing a bit a sightseeing and got lost. Thought whoever lived here wouldn’t mind if I came and might be able to give me some help. I thought I heard someone in the barn.”

  “You didn’t answer the first question,” the sheriff said. “What’s your name?”

  “That’s okay. I can answer the question for you.” Nikki flipped open the wallet that had fallen out of the man’s pocket in the scuffle. “Driver’s license says Brad Collins. Thirty-five years old. Tennessee license.”

  “Whoever he is, I can tell you he’s not from around here. And here’s the thing, in case you didn’t know.” The sheriff knelt down next to the man. “We do two things to trespassers around here. Arrest ’em or shoot ’em. I’m guessing you have a preference?”

  “I wasn’t trespassing. Or at least I didn’t mean to. I told you I was lost and looking for directions.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Jack jogged back to where they were standing, out of breath. “Your partner in crime’s gone. Drove off in your getaway car.”

  “There was no crime and no getaway car.”

  “Save your excuses for the judge,” the sheriff said.

  �
��Did you get a license plate?” Nikki asked.

  “A partial. I’ll call it in to Gwen right now and see what she can get.”

  “Sheriff … why don’t you take Mr. Collins back to your office. I want to make a final sweep of the house, and we’ll be right behind you.”

  The sheriff nodded, then helped his prisoner up. “You got it.”

  Nikki headed back for the barn, her flashlight in hand.

  “Looking for something specific?” Jack asked.

  “The guy had something in his hand when I first saw him. Which means he probably dropped it in the barn.” She shined her flashlight across the wall near the door. “Maybe a light switch would help.”

  A second later, she flipped a switch and the barn was flooded with light.

  “Do you have any idea why he was in here?” Jack asked.

  “All I can figure is that he thought going through the barn would block our line of sight from the house to the road.”

  They started looking around a pile of discarded car parts where Collins had been when Nikki first saw him.

  “Wait a minute … I think I might have something.” Nikki reached for a piece of paper that was wedged beneath an old car part. It was a photograph. “Take a look at this,” she said, holding up the ripped photo.

  “What is it?”

  Nikki flipped it around. “It’s a photograph of Erika Hamilton.”

  “Erika … You’re sure he dropped it?”

  “I can’t be 100 percent sure what was in his hand, but it fits. And if he did have this photograph, it definitely points to the fact that our Mr. Collins was here looking for Erika.”

  “And if they’re still looking for her, it means they haven’t found her.”

  “Maybe not,” Nikki said, “but neither have we.”

  Twenty minutes later, the sheriff handed Nikki a cold milk shake. “Compliments of Ray’s Diner.”

  “Thank you,” Nikki said, taking a long sip of the fudgy chocolate shake that was definitely made with real ice cream. She might end up comatose from a sugar overdose, but it was going to be worth it.

  “You’re sure you don’t want anything, son?” the sheriff asked Jack.

  “I’m good, but thanks.”

  “Did you find anything else then?” the sheriff asked.

  “A photograph of Erika Hamilton, the woman we’re looking for,” Nikki said, dropping the photo onto the sheriff’s desk between sips.

  Sheriff Porter took off his hat, then sat down behind his desk. “I’ve just sent two of my deputies out to board up the broken window at the Pope home.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Nikki said. “So what’s our suspect saying?”

  “Nothing so far.”

  “What information do you have on him?” Jack asked.

  “We ran his name through our database. He’s former military, now working as a security consultant for B. B. Williams.”

  “Who exactly is that?” Jack asked.

  “According to their website, you can hire them out for individual private security needs.”

  “What about searching for a missing person?” Nikki asked.

  “I’d say that’s definitely possible.”

  Nikki glanced at Jack. “I think it’s time we tried talking to the man.”

  “Be my guest,” the sheriff said. “Hopefully you’ll get more out of him than I did.”

  If possible, the sheriff’s department interview room was even drabber than their precinct’s back in Nashville. Brad Collins sat in front of a dingy gray wall, his hands in front of him and tapping on a worn metal desk.

  “Mr. Collins,” Nikki said, sitting down across from the man. “I don’t think we were properly introduced back at the Pope residence. My name is Special Agent Nikki Boyd. I’m sure we can clear this whole incident up quickly and have you on your way back to Nashville if you can just answer a couple questions.”

  “I hope so, because I’ve yet to be given the chance to call my lawyer.”

  “You said you were looking for directions,” Jack said.

  “We were in the area to see about doing some hunting in a couple weeks.”

  “Why did you and your friend run from the police?”

  “People were yelling at us. Wouldn’t you run?”

  “Not when I was told to stop by the police,” Nikki said. “And not unless I had something to hide.”

  Collins blew out a sharp breath of air. “I don’t have anything to hide. Or anything more to say, for that matter.”

  “Okay.” Nikki bit back her frustration. Seconds were ticking by, and they were getting nowhere. She slid Erika’s photo across the table. “What about this woman. Have you seen her before?”

  Collins looked away. “Never seen her before.”

  “Really?” Jack said. “Because we have reason to believe you were at the Pope residence, looking for her.”

  “I said I’ve never seen her before.”

  “Here’s the problem, Mr. Collins,” Nikki said, leaning forward. She needed the guy to tell her the truth. “We know you were looking for her, because not only were you trespassing, there are fingerprints on this photo, fingerprints on the back door that was broken into, and fingerprints in the house. And because of your military background I can match them all to you. Which means when something happens to her—for instance, if we found her murdered on the Popes’ property—I can connect it to you—”

  “Murder? Now hold on.” Collin’s face reddened. “You found her murdered? Nothing was supposed to happen to her. I was only hired to find her.”

  “Really.” Nikki smiled. “Now we’re finally getting some answers.”

  “Who hired you?” Jack asked.

  “That information is private—”

  Nikki tapped on Erika’s photo. “I think we’re past that.”

  His jaw tensed before answering. “Brian Russell.”

  “And what did he ask you to do this time?” Nikki asked.

  “He told me he was worried about his girlfriend, Erika. Said she’d taken a trip a couple days ago to visit her family here, and he hadn’t heard from her. He was worried she might have gotten in an accident. I guess a couple other guys working for him weren’t successful, so he hired Jason and me to bring her home.”

  “Why not just go to the police if she was missing?”

  “Far as I know, he did go to the police, but I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

  “So you weren’t hired to kill Erika.”

  “Are you crazy? No way.”

  “Have you ever worked for Russell before?” Jack asked.

  “I’ve done a few specific jobs for Brian over the years. Mainly security jobs.”

  “What kind of security are you talking about?”

  “Mr. Russell was well off, which meant it wasn’t uncommon for him to hire private security.”

  “And the Popes. How do they fit into all of this?”

  “Apparently they’re close friends of hers. He said she might have gone to them if she was in trouble.”

  “In trouble … how?” Jack asked.

  “You’d have to ask Mr. Russell that.”

  “And do you know how we might be able to get ahold of him?”

  “I … I’ve got a number I can call if I need to get ahold of him.”

  Nikki’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID. “It’s Gwen. We need to take this.” She and Jack stood up. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Collins.”

  “Wait a minute. The woman … Erika Hamilton … is she really dead?”

  Nikki paused in the doorway. “I don’t know.”

  She stepped into the hallway and put the phone on speaker. “What do you have, Gwen?”

  “911 just took a call from a frantic woman about a car that matches the description of Kim Parks’s car. It was spotted driving east toward Knoxville.”

  “That’s not far from here.” Nikki felt her breath catch. “What happened to the car?”

  There was a pause on the line. �
��It was reported going off the road and into the gully below.”

  22

  3:43 p.m.

  Highway east of Nashville

  Nikki glanced at her speedometer, then let her foot off the gas as she took another windy curve along the narrow mountain highway. “How much farther?”

  “According to the GPS, it looks like just under half a mile,” Jack said. “You’ll see a narrow turnoff to your right where you can pull off.”

  Nikki bit the side of her lip, trying not to think about what might have happened if Erika’s car had gone off the road on one of these sharp curves. The metal guardrails wouldn’t have been enough to stop her if she were going too fast.

  A minute later she pulled off the road onto the turnoff, parked, then turned off the engine. A blue sedan sat behind a police car along the narrow ridge. Nikki jumped out of her car ahead of Jack and ran down the gravel shoulder. She glanced down at the deep gully. There were skid marks along the side of the road leading to where the guardrail had been hit. More than likely, this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

  And if this really was Erika, and she’d gone over the edge …

  Nikki showed the officer her badge and quickly introduced herself and Jack to him and the young woman wearing gym clothes who had to be their witness. She was breathing hard and her face was streaked with tears.

  “I’m Officer Blyth,” the officer said with a thick southern drawl. “Didn’t expect TBI to show up. This is the third time a car’s gone off the edge in the past year. Sure wish we could do more to stop this from happening, but people refuse to slow down.”

  “You were the first responder?” Jack asked.

  “I just got here a couple minutes ago,” he said. “This is Susanne Lane. She was driving down the highway and saw two cars speeding through these curves. I’ve been taking her statement, but she’s understandably pretty shaken up. In the meantime I’ve called for backup, both an ambulance and our rescue unit. I thought about going down there, but it’s going to take some special equipment.”

  “You did the right thing,” Nikki said.

  She knew what the officer was thinking. If there was a survivor. The chances of someone living through an accident like this were slim.