Lullaby for the Nameless (Nolan, Hart & Tain Thrillers)

by Ruttan, Sandra

  “Okay. Let’s look there.”

  They returned to Nolan’s Rodeo. He’d argued it would be the best vehicle to use, assuming the terrain was rough, and it was a good choice. They bumped and jostled as he tried to avoid the potholes on the old road.

  “Guess once they stopped renting the cabins out, they really let it go,” Sullivan muttered.

  Ashlyn sat in the back. For a while, the only sound was the hum of the engine, the occasional spinning of wheels when they failed to find purchase and groan of the axel as the vehicle bounced over the uneven ground.

  Her hands were clawing into the seat. Part of her wanted to be the first out so that she could kick Tain’s ass herself, but there was a chill in the back of her neck that she couldn’t shake, and another part of her prayed that whatever powers there might be that controlled the universe would make sure nothing happened to him.

  She should have seen it coming. It had been so hard to persuade Tain to wait when she’d told him what she knew. Damn near impossible to convince him that they needed Nolan, at least, before they could check out the property.

  It was too big and too risky, and even she had to admit that Sullivan had been right. They had circumstantial evidence, but nothing that would support a warrant to search the premises.

  Nolan’s headlights picked up a dark shape, and she leaned forward. “There. Tain’s truck.”

  “It isn’t much farther to the cabins,” Nolan said. “About a quarter of a mile. Should I—”

  Thwap. Ashlyn dove down as Nolan said, “Shit!” The headlights went out as he turned hard to the left.

  He’d cut the engine and was yelling at her to call for backup. She pulled out her phone.

  No signal.

  “Do you have a radio?” she asked him.

  “In the back,” he barked as he tried to pull Sullivan free from his seat.

  Shhhhwap. Another impact, but with something outside, near them. A tree. Ashlyn jumped over the back seats and started sorting through Nolan’s gear in the back, hands fumbling in the dark, trying to find the radio.

  The rectangular box shape felt familiar in her hands. Not exactly standard issue, but usable nonetheless.

  “How is he?” she asked as she switched it on.

  “Not good,” Craig said as he pulled Sullivan across the driver’s seat and out the door.

  Glass cracked and shattered, covering Sullivan’s legs. Nolan didn’t stop pulling, and within seconds he was out of the vehicle.

  She wasn’t sure their chances would be much better there, and she felt her hands shake as she fumbled with the buttons and started calling for help.

  Tain heard a gunshot in the distance. At a guess, it wasn’t far from where he’d left his car.

  Ashlyn. Shit.

  After he’d parked the car, he’d gotten out and backtracked on foot, until he thought he’d gone a safe distance. Anyone who had heard the engine would come straight from the cabins.

  They might go through the woods, just to give themselves cover, which was why he’d backtracked and circled around. It was more time-consuming, but it gave him a better chance of getting through without meeting up with unwanted company in the middle of the woods.

  Go one way and reach the cabins, maybe put an end to this mess of a case once and for all. Go back and there was no telling what would happen.

  A second shot was followed by a third. He cast one last glance in the direction of the cabins, cursed under his breath and turned around.

  The closer he got to the sound of the bullets, the slower he moved. He could see through the road, and the thin slice of moon that had emerged through the blanket of clouds gave him enough light to make out the shape of a vehicle not far from where he’d left his own.

  Nolan’s Rodeo.

  He saw the flash from behind the Rodeo and heard the shot. To his right there was the sound of returning fire, and he started to make his way through the trees in that direction.

  More shots from the Rodeo, and a cry pierced the air. Whoever was shooting from the woods had been hit.

  After that, things got quiet for what felt like a long time. He continued inching forward, looking for some visual clue so he could find the shooter hiding in the woods.

  It wasn’t until he heard the sirens approaching that a dark shape started running through the trees. He hurried forward and looked to his left, to where he’d first seen the shape move. Another shape, slumped against a tree.

  Tain turned on the Maglite he had in his pocket. Eddie Campbell, empty-handed, clutching a gaping wound in his chest.

  “Tried…tell…No…body…listen.”

  “Shhh. We’re going to get you help, Eddie.” He pulled out his cell phone. No signal.

  A flash of light caught him in the eye and he raised his hands. “Constable Tain,” he said.

  The officer relaxed his hold on the gun and turned to look at the figure slumped against the tree. “Looks like a through and through. He needs help,” Tain said. “There’s another one who took off through the woods that way. I’m going after him.”

  He turned and started to run, barely aware of the voices that said, “Not alone, you aren’t.” Tain wasn’t sure at what moment he realized Nolan and Hart were with him, but when they reached the edge of the woods and saw the shadow running up the steps into a cabin, the three of them moved instinctively, as though it wasn’t their first time chasing an armed suspect on foot through the forest at night.

  As soon as he was sure Nolan and Hart were in position, he ran up the stairs and kicked the door down, ducking just in time to avoid the shotgun blast that put a hole in the wall behind him.

  PART SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  In the aftermath of Eddie Campbell’s death and the arrest of Bobby Hobbs, they’d had plenty of time to search the old Campbell property.

  In the woods, on the small slip of land that fell on Reserve boundaries, they found the graves. The search had yielded the bodies of five girls from the files. Five girls, ten victims in total.

  Craig had spent days scouring the woods with a canine unit, and as his partner, she’d been there through it all. They’d covered every inch of ground.

  They’d guessed that Hobbs and Campbell buried bodies when they ran out of room in the freezer, but when they found out that most of the land wasn’t under Reserve protection, they’d gotten nervous. The tiny strip of land that did fall outside town boundaries bordered a steep gorge. They’d run out of room for more graves near the ledge, so they’d started dumping bodies in the woods and Dumpsters to make room for more victims in the freezer.

  It was a theory, the best explanation they had. The only explanation. Hobbs had never talked, and part of Ashlyn didn’t really want to know why they did what they did. Motives sometimes read like a criminal’s excuse for unjustifiable acts of horror against other human beings, and there was nothing that could make sense of what Hobbs and Campbell had done.

  She remembered one day at the station. They’d been talking to Summer Young, letting her know about the status of the investigation.

  Nolan had apologized. “They’re starting with dental records, and if they can’t identify the bodies that way, they’ll ask you for a blood sample, but it could be some time before we know more.”

  He’d slumped down in the chair, looking a thousand miles away, skin pale, dark smudges under his eyes.

  Tain was already gone by then. Sullivan’s death had made it impossible for the RCMP to completely forgive his sins, and he’d been put on desk duty pending a full investigation.

  Thinking back, she realized it was only a few hours after that conversation that she’d been reassigned. Whatever questions she didn’t have answers for would remain unasked by her. The newspapers continued to speculate, but it all rang hollow, and she stopped reading. Who could grasp why someone would abduct girls, impregnate them, and then murder them and their newborn baby?

  A nightmare case complicated by lies, secret agendas and abuse of po
wer. Even Craig had been willing to risk disciplinary action by concealing the whereabouts of his sister when she ran away, a truth Steve had hinted at with his careful answers to her questions. “What does the file say?”

  His way of answering her question without referencing whatever suspicions he had about Craig’s sister should have been a neon warning sign then, but she’d assumed he was being an overprotective big brother.

  After all, there were enough arrest records on file to paint Craig’s stepfather—his sister’s biological dad—in a very bad light. During the weeks she and Craig had spent searching the Campbell property Tucker Collins—Craig’s stepfather—had been arrested for assault. It turned out it wasn’t the first time he’d faced charges, and he had a history of hitting members of his family.

  A few days later Kaitlin’s file had been updated and closed.

  She’d returned home, and despite Ashlyn’s own subtle research, she knew little about what had actually happened to prompt Craig’s sister to run away. Had Kaitlin’s father hit her, or had it been something worse?

  Funny that in his own way, Craig had been running for months.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The car bumped along the road to the old Campbell property, the wheels occasionally spinning as they sought purchase on the sides of deep, soft potholes.

  Part of Ashlyn coaxed the vehicle through each dip in the road, as though sheer willpower could make it navigate the terrain, while the other part asked if she knew what she was doing.

  At what point had Craig’s opinion become so important to her? Or did she not even realize how she felt until she saw him again, months later?

  And now? How did she feel now?

  She pushed the doubts to the corner of her thoughts and focused on another question. Where would he be?

  There were four options on the property, and arguments could be made for each, although she was ready to dismiss the house. It was the first thing you reached. You had to go past it to get to the cabins, and farther still to reach the walk-in freezer.

  That’s what they’d done with it. Turned it into a freezer, where they’d had enough room to store some of the girls.

  The cabins were an obvious choice, and as brazen as Parker was, she expected more of a game from him.

  Which left her with the freezer or the burial ground.

  She turned a bend and could see the front of the old house. The roof was sagging, and the porch looked ready to give up. It had probably sat empty through the better part of two winters, hence the wear and tear.

  Craig’s vehicle was ahead of her, parked on the side of the road. No, not parked. The driver’s door was hanging open.

  Ashlyn got out of her car, pulled her gun out of its holster and walked toward the Rodeo.

  She scanned the road and the edges of the woods. Nothing.

  Her fingers tightened on the gun.

  The sense of déjà vu as she looked inside Craig’s Rodeo, shattered glass shards scattered all over the floor and the bloodstained seats, was overwhelming.

  Process of elimination. If Parker had Craig and Craig was wounded, he’d pick the burial grounds. It was closer.

  On the ground there were drops of blood, leading to the treed area that led to the burial grounds.

  She followed the path. The woods had an eerie stillness to them. Not the kind of midday quiet that might be disrupted by the occasional chirp of birds or scuffle of leaves. It was the kind of quiet where everyone, or every thing, holds its breath collectively.

  The way her heart hammered in her ears, she was certain Parker could hear her coming. Ashlyn knew it was ridiculous, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling.

  Tain and Craig had been drawn into this, but the moment she’d heard it was Parker, she knew. He was there for her.

  Craig was already out there, injured. Without knowing how long he’d been at the property, how bad his injuries were, it could be worse.

  There was no way she could let Tain take the risk she was taking.

  She moved slowly, trying to avoid crunching the leaves and twigs scattered on the ground as she scanned the area in every direction, watching for any sign of movement.

  To her right, something caught her attention. A large, dark splotch against a tree.

  Ashlyn looked around as she knelt down and reached out with her free hand.

  She touched the substance and lifted her fingers to her nose.

  Blood.

  If Craig had stopped to try to wrap his wound…

  Or even to catch his breath…

  She stood and scanned the ground in all directions. The blood trail was gone.

  Ashlyn knew she was close to the burial grounds. Through the woods, she could see the small clearing where they’d found the girls. To the right, there were trees and rocks, but she found no sign of blood as she scanned the obvious gaps in the forest.

  Craig could be hiding anywhere.

  A flicker of movement to her left caught her attention and she spun around, gun ready, but there was nothing there.

  Ashlyn took a step forward toward the clearing.

  Snap.

  She turned, looking for the source of the sound. Something—or someone—not far behind her had cracked a twig, but she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

  It must have been her imagination.

  The rocky outcropping that overlooked the gorge was where Parker sat. It was a ballsy place to be, out in the open, a rifle across his lap.

  As though he had nothing to fear.

  She crouched down and started inching her way around the woods on the edge of the clearing to get a better view.

  Parker looked at his watch. “You know, I would’ve thought she’d be here by now. Noble guy that you are, I’m sure you’d rather bleed to death alone in the woods.”

  Silence. If Craig was still alive he wasn’t taking the bait.

  “You got a real martyr complex, Nolan. Let me tell you something, this guy Hobbs, he had it all worked out.”

  Ashlyn stopped behind a large tree.

  “Women screw men to get what they want. And then they find other ways to screw ’em. The girls Hobbs brought here, they all failed him. All except one.”

  Ashlyn surveyed the woods to her left. She was running out of places where she could stay covered unless she worked her way to the right. There was a rock a few feet ahead of her, but she needed Parker to keep talking.

  To be distracted.

  “How’d you feel when you found out your little girlfriend lost the baby?”

  Shit. She’d never had a chance to tell Craig…

  “Or didn’t you know?”

  The time had never seemed right, not the few times they’d spoken on the phone when she was at work. He’d come back after the failed search for Lisa Harrington, packed a bag and taken a temporary transfer.

  And another and another…

  Parker laughed. “She gets herself pregnant, plans to screw you out of every cent, but she’s not even telling you she’s havin’ your kid.”

  Nothing but the sound of a soft breeze rustling the trees.

  Craig had walked away from their relationship, and for a time her grief had turned to rage, until she believed she hated him, but here she was, standing in the woods, gun in her hand, praying he was okay.

  Worrying about how he was coping with what Parker had said.

  “See, Hobbs knew the test of loyalty. Millie was the only one who passed.” Parker shrugged. “She took it and strangled it herself right after it was born…That’s why Hobbs let her live. Proof nothing was more important to her than him.”

  Parker was quiet for a moment. Just long enough to let his words sink in. Ashlyn felt a wave of nausea threaten to topple her, and a spine-chilling cold.

  Sometimes, you hear something and know instantly it’s true, despite the fact that you don’t want to believe it.

  “Millie, Millie, Millie. All that guilt. I did her a favor. Put her out of her misery,” Parker said. �
� ’Course, it worked out much better for me that he didn’t off Millie. She came in handy.

  “So tell me, Nolan, if she really wanted you, why’d you two break up right after she lost the baby?”

  Parker tightened his grip on the gun and picked it up. “Better you see her for the bitch she is.”

  “You think she doesn’t care, why d’you think she’d come looking for me?”

  The voice was labored and somewhere to Ashlyn’s right. She started scanning the trees, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

  Parker hopped down from where he sat, his actions revealing the bulk under his coat, and walked toward the trees and rocks on the other side of the clearing, moving slowly, carefully, as he scanned the woods.

  Careful enough to wear a bulletproof vest, but too cocky to think of the risks of having a loud conversation in the woods. Too cocky to remember he might not hear her coming if he wasn’t listening.

  “Appearances. Can’t have everyone else seeing what a cold-hearted bitch she really is.”

  “You…don’t…know.”

  Ashlyn moved to another tree. Parker turned and for a moment his eyes narrowed as he scanned the woods a little to her left.

  She thought she’d slipped up, but it wasn’t her direction he was looking in. It was toward the area where she thought she’d heard noises before.

  He turned back toward Craig’s voice. “I ought to shoot you again, put you out of your misery. Hell, when I beat that bitch and she miscarried, I did you a favor. You should be thanking me.”

  Silence.

  “No offense, Nolan, but I was kind of glad I didn’t kill you in the woods before. It was risky sneaking out there to leave the body. But I had to make sure you got involved.

  “I didn’t even realize it was you I was shooting at until I heard it at the bar later. Went to all the work of tracking down those remains and planting the clues for nothing. Told ya, Millie was good for some things.”

  Parker looked at his watch. “You aren’t provin’ as useful as I thought you would, though.”