The Sierra Files Box Set: Books 1-3: Plus a bonus Christmas novella!

by Christy Barritt

  “Did Chad leave this morning?” He pulled out a chair at the dining room table and continued to eat his peanuts.

  I nodded. “He did. He went a week early to get permits and supplies and to secure some subs for the big job.”

  “Did Gabby tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” Were they officially engaged? No, that couldn’t be it. Certainly Gabby would have told me that by now.

  “I’m heading over to West Virginia also. The big trial I’ve been working on wrapped up yesterday. I’ve been so busy that Gabby and I haven’t had much time together lately. I’m going to go with her and help out. Besides, it seems like Chad can use all the help he can get.”

  “I can’t argue that.” He’d been downright stressed about it.

  “You should go too.”

  “Funny—I think Gabby suggested that also.” I folded another of Reef’s many outfits. I had no idea that one little baby could produce so much laundry. It was a byproduct of spit-up and diaper emergencies.

  “It would be fun. The gang hasn’t had a chance to hang out very much lately.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Now, what did you want to see me about?” Riley crumpled his peanut bag and sent a basketball shot toward the trashcan. He made it.

  “I have this situation . . .” I proceeded to tell him about what happened with Mandee and Chalice. He listened carefully as I shared each detail.

  “That certainly sounds . . . interesting.”

  I nodded. “Doesn’t it?”

  “When’s her bail bond hearing?”

  “I’m not sure, but she hasn’t had it yet. She was arrested around 3:00 a.m. on Friday, and this is the earliest they could get her before the judge.”

  “That stinks. Nobody likes to stay in jail that long—especially not the innocent.”

  “Yeah, I feel bad for her.”

  “I can probably help.”

  “She says she has no money.”

  “I’m not really worried about that. I’m more worried about how guilty she looks.”

  I nibbled on the inside of my lip for a moment. “You think she looks guilty?”

  “It’s like you said: Maybe she didn’t intend to kill this guy. But she knew he hated snakes. She knew he lived beneath her. Her prints were on the crowbar that apparently was used to pry the vent away from the floor. She could have easily left the lid off the enclosure and waited to see what happened, having no clue this guy would die.”

  I fought a frown, unwilling to show defeat. “I don’t think she would do something like that.”

  Riley let his head fall slightly to the side. “You said she’s spacy. Maybe she didn’t think everything through.”

  I couldn’t argue that. “It’s a possibility. But it turns out Patrick is actually in town. I think that makes him look guilty. I mean, I know a lot of people who love their animals—who love them enough to do whatever it takes to keep them. If this guy Tag was threatening to go to Animal Control, maybe Patrick came up with the perfect scenario to silence him, all the while pointing the blame at Mandee.”

  “Sounds like an awful friend to have.” He stood. “You mind if I get some water?”

  “Go right ahead.” I continued folding my laundry. “I think Mandee likes Patrick. He could have used her kindness to his advantage.”

  “There are people who will do that. Are the police investigating him?” He grabbed a glass and filled it with tap water from the sink.

  I shrugged, wishing I had something to offer him. But I desperately needed to go grocery shopping. “I have no idea. I know they were trying to reach him, but he told Mandee he was going to be in Costa Rica and unable to be contacted by cell phone.”

  “Convenient. If the police aren’t looking at someone else, then they’re just focusing on Mandee. That’s not good.” He sat back down across from me again and took a long swig of his water.

  “What should I do?”

  He pulled the glass in front of him and wiped a stray drop of water away from his lip. “How about if I take over as legal counsel for you?”

  Those were the words I’d been hoping to hear. “You’d do that?”

  “Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

  A grateful smile tugged at my lips. “Thanks, Riley. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Now, enjoy your day off. I know you don’t get very many of them.”

  Chapter Twelve

  At six o’clock that evening, I packed up Reef and we headed to the homeless shelter. I really didn’t want to bring my baby with me, but I had no other choice. All of my usual sitters were busy or out of town. Plus, who looked more unassuming than a woman with a baby?

  I’d actually left early to make an evening of it. I’d gone to my favorite vegan restaurant, and Reef had slept against me in the sling while I read a new book. It was the first time I’d felt truly relaxed in months. However, the moment I started thinking about Mandee and the whole situation, tension filled me again.

  It was time to nip all of this in the bud and head to the homeless shelter. I needed to catch Patrick and ask him some very specific questions.

  There were three different places where people could park near the shelter: a parking garage across the street that also serviced some nearby restaurants; the street itself, which had a limited number of spots along the curb; and a small lot right behind the building for employees and volunteers.

  I managed to grab a space on the street before positioning myself on the corner across the street, where I had a good view of all three areas.

  Mandee had called again earlier. She’d gushed and gushed about meeting with Riley, who must have gone to the jail as soon as he left my place. Apparently, she thought he was handsome and that was the majority of what she wanted to chat about. I reminded her that Riley was dating my best friend, and that silenced her rather quickly.

  Which allowed me to ask her my own pressing questions.

  Mandee told me that Patrick drove a beat-up mauve Ford Ranger. I hadn’t exactly explained everything to her. I didn’t want word getting back to Riley or Chad about what I was doing.

  I knew being here was risky, especially bringing Reef. That’s why I’d vowed to remain in the background and play it safe, no matter the cost. I could handle putting my own life in danger, but never my son’s.

  Thankfully, the evening air was mild and the sun hadn’t quite set yet, which left some daylight for me. Daylight always felt safer than darkness. I knew it wasn’t logical, but it was true.

  I gently pushed the stroller back and forth as I waited, pretending to play on my phone so I wouldn’t look suspicious. Around 6:45, I finally saw a mauve Ford Ranger pull into the parking garage. A moment later, Patrick emerged from the exit. He nervously looked both ways on the sidewalk before starting across the street.

  I took a step toward him but stopped in my tracks.

  Just as I’d feared: the men I’d seen here earlier had returned, and they had vengeance in their eyes.

  I paused, feeling pulled between helping someone who might be in trouble and ensuring that my son still had a mom after today. There was no way I could put Reef in danger.

  So I did the only thing I could think of. I called Detective DePalma. I whispered how urgent the situation was. I begged him to come quickly. Then I slunk behind the corner, desperate to keep Reef out of sight.

  As I stood there, I prayed. I prayed for Patrick. I didn’t know if he was the good guy here or the bad guy. But I knew his life was on the line now.

  I wasn’t much of a pray-er. In fact, I’d just started going to church recently at Gabby’s prodding. I’d grown up in a home with parents who’d emphasized self-reliance and who’d put faith only in the smartest humans and their discoveries in the fields of science.

  But now that I had a child, I wanted more for him. I wanted him to believe there was more to this life than living for the moment. That there was hope beyond the realms of this world. That his life was for a pu
rpose and by design.

  Peeking around the corner, I held my breath as the men forced Patrick against the wall. There were three of them against only one skinny and slight Patrick.

  He had no chance.

  How in the world had he gotten entangled with these men?

  The men began roughing him up. They shoved him. Poked him. Taunted him.

  I couldn’t make out what they said, but I thought I heard something about money.

  Come on, Detective. You can get here any time now.

  I gripped the stroller, rocking it back and forth as Reef let out a little coo. The coo turned into a cry.

  Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

  The cry turned into an all-out wail.

  All four men turned their attention to me.

  This wasn’t good.

  I ducked back behind the corner and glanced down the street. Could I start running with the stroller toward the restaurant in the distance?

  Running with this stroller didn’t seem safe. But neither did facing those guys.

  I looked back and saw one of them start toward me. Recognition lit in his eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Reef,” I whispered.

  Then I took off, desperate to put distance between that man and my son.

  Thankfully, even though the man was large, his footsteps were heavy and lumbered. He wouldn’t easily catch up with me. But I still wasn’t in the clear.

  The restaurant door was probably only ten feet away now. I could make it. I had to.

  As if to protest, Reef’s wails became louder. I glanced back one more time.

  If the man lunged at me, he could possibly reach me.

  I glanced once more at Reef and gave it everything I had.

  Directly in front of me, a man exited the restaurant. He saw me coming and held the door, a crease of concern forming between his eyebrows. I mumbled a quick “thank you” and darted into the restaurant.

  I stopped right inside the door and drew in deep gulps of air, trying to even out my breathing.

  When I looked around, everyone was staring at me. It was a bar, I realized. Not the normal place a woman with a baby frequented.

  I pushed my hair behind my ear, not even caring at the moment that everyone around me had taken on judgmental expressions.

  Glancing back, I saw the biker only feet away from the door. Would he come in here? Would he continue the confrontation in front of all these witnesses?

  Someone that scary-looking might not care about the consequences. He might only care about the momentary gratification that came with keeping me quiet.

  Thankfully, just then, a police cruiser pulled up out front.

  I was safe.

  Thank God, I was safe.

  On the sidewalk right outside the bar as people gathered nearby and the sun started to disappear from sight, I gave Detective DePalma a rundown on what had happened on the sidewalk with Patrick.

  Reef wailed the whole time. I took him from his stroller, noted that he’d messed his diaper again, and knew I was on borrowed time right now. The detective looked halfway annoyed that we couldn’t talk without interruption, but what was I supposed to do?

  Finally I excused myself, changed Reef in the bathroom of the bar, and then returned to the dark street. Numerous officers were still on the scene, the biker guys were still in the back of three police cars, and Patrick still looked totally freaked out as another detective talked to him only a few feet away.

  His eyes were red and bloodshot. He continually ran his hands through his hair. Sweat sprinkled across his forehead and cheeks.

  He was a man about to break.

  I had to talk to him, but I had to use my time wisely if I wanted to do that. Inserting myself between him and the police would only be disastrous right now. At least Reef was content and quiet again.

  Four months ago, I wouldn’t have cared about what kind of impression I made or how best to handle the situation. I’d been brazen, outspoken, and headstrong, to name a few. Motherhood had not only changed my worldview, it had changed my body, my priorities, and my titles. In some unexplainable way, it had softened me and made me a little wiser.

  Finally, just as Reef drifted to sleep in my arms, the police wrapped up their conversation with Patrick there on the sidewalk.

  “Can I talk to him?” I asked the detective.

  I had been waiting patiently for my turn, halfway fearful that Patrick would be arrested for illegal gambling and I wouldn’t be able to speak with him at all. That didn’t appear to be happening, though, so I had to grab my chance while I had the opportunity.

  Detective DePalma stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

  “Please. It’s important.”

  Finally, he nodded. “If he’ll talk to you, have at it.” He turned away to look over his notes.

  I approached Patrick, eyeing him carefully. He stood against the rough brick wall of the bar. He looked frazzled, like he hadn’t slept in a week. His slight form appeared even more slight as he folded his arms over his chest.

  Did he know who I was? Did he know about my connection with Mandee? I’d guess no.

  Up close, I saw that Patrick’s lip was busted and the area beneath his right eye was getting puffy. Those guys really had roughed him up. They would have done more if they’d had the opportunity.

  “I guess I should say thank you,” he mumbled, uncrossing his arms and standing up straighter. “You distracted those guys before they could finish me off.”

  “Why are you in town?” I got right to the point. “I thought you were in Costa Rica.”

  He shifted and broke eye contact. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m friends with Mandee. There’s been quite a lot you’ve missed since you’ve been ‘out of town.’”

  Patrick cringed and let out a long sigh. “I was wondering if all of this would catch up with me.”

  “It has. You left your friend hanging out to dry, taking the fall for someone’s death. Friends don’t let friends go to jail for them.” I paused dramatically. “Friends’ lives matter.”

  His frown deepened as his shoulders slumped again. He sagged against the wall behind him. “None of this was supposed to happen. I was going to come forward and admit that I was in town. I just had to get this mess straightened out first. I had to disappear.”

  “What mess would that be?”

  He ran a hand over his face. “I got into some financial trouble.”

  “How?” I pressed.

  “I took up gambling on the side and made some bad bets.”

  Gambling? Gambling was somehow tied in with this? I hadn’t seen that one coming. “Why in the world did you take up gambling? Especially with those guys.”

  “I need money.”

  “And as soon as you graduate and get a job in engineering, you’ll have it.” People who tried to take the easy way out always annoyed me. Like, really annoyed me. I didn’t have much, but I’d fought for everything I had and even refused the help of my parents in order to make my own way.

  “I don’t want a job in engineering.”

  “But that’s what you’re studying.”

  “How’d you know that?” A wrinkle formed between his eyes, and he looked at me like I was a mind reader or something.

  “I have a way of finding out these things.”

  He grunted. “Okay then. My parents want me to have a secure job that I can fall back on.”

  “Oh.” That made sense. Parental pressure was a real thing. I understood that. My parents wanted me to go into medicine, but I’d refused. Then again, as Chad said, I was one of the most stubborn people ever.

  “I want to be a photographer, but it’s hard to jump right into that career and make enough money to support yourself. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, though. I figured if I just had a little money to get me by, maybe I could truly make a go at it.”

  “But . . . ?” I knew there was more to this story.

  “I was doing well, so I got into this gambling circle. I
actually made around twenty thousand in my first month. But I got cocky. I thought I was on a roll. I lost it all, and now I owe big time.”

  “When you realized you had to pay up, you ran?”

  He nodded. “Exactly. I knew I had to disappear. But I couldn’t leave all of my animals to fend for themselves. It wasn’t the right thing to do. So I asked Mandee to stay at my house, and I started staying at the shelter at night.”

  “At least that was noble of you.” I narrowed my eyes. “Somehow these guys found you.”

  He nodded. “I’m not sure how it happened, but they were pretty determined.”

  I leveled my gaze with him. “Did you kill Tag Wilson?”

  He blinked. “What? . . . No.”

  “You do realize he’s dead, don’t you?”

  He ran a hand through his hair again. “Yeah. I do realize that. I heard.”

  “Yet you still didn’t come out of the woodwork?”

  “My own life was on the line. Those guys would have killed me.”

  “What happened to that vent?”

  “I have no idea. I didn’t do it. I didn’t want Tag dead.”

  I wasn’t dropping this that easily. “I heard that the two of you didn’t get along.”

  “We didn’t. But I wouldn’t have killed him. Or even tried to scare him. I promise. All I want to do is take pictures. Ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll tell you.”

  “Any idea who might have wanted to kill Tag?”

  He nodded without hesitation. “Jim Benson from Jungle Jim’s. He’s the one who did this.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Why in the world would you think that?” I asked, rocking Reef back and forth in the stroller to keep him quiet.

  He shifted and glanced back at Detective DePaula, who listened from a few feet away and had begun to impatiently tap his foot. I couldn’t blame him. This conversation was taking longer than I’d anticipated. Not only that, but a small crowd had formed to check out what was going on. The three guys who’d tried to jump Patrick were shooting death glares at Patrick. It had also grown dark outside, which made everything feel creepier.