“But Denali is going to be so happy to have Wyatt back home again.” She hugged Denali, burying her face in his fur.
Nash didn’t want to ruin the moment by pointing out that even if Brett did have Wyatt and even if they got Wyatt back, they’d still have to turn him over to DCS. Nash was already going out on a limb here. He didn’t need to add a charge of kidnapping to the list.
Once he secured the house, he and Emily climbed into the truck. He didn’t need the GPS to find the border. He knew every inch of it, and this particular desert outpost wouldn’t register, anyway.
He cranked on the engine and said, “We’re going to have to hike in. We can’t drive a truck up to this site, even after midnight, or especially after midnight.”
“I’m ready.” She wedged a sneaker on the dashboard. “It’s a good thing we still have Wyatt’s car seat in the truck—not that I’d let a little thing like a car seat stop me from taking him home.”
Nash bit the inside of his cheek as he swung around the crescent of his driveway and through the front gate. Home. Emily kept using that word. Even if he decided to go through with the custody arrangement, Wyatt couldn’t come here right away.
They drove into the night, the silent desert sucking them in after just a few miles, outside of the Paradiso town limit.
Nash flicked on his brights. “Remember, we check for Wyatt’s presence first. If he’s not there and Brett is, we call off the mission and contact law enforcement.”
“And if he is—” Emily placed her hands on her bouncing knees “—we break in silently.”
“If he’s sleeping, we slip inside the trailer, I’ll hold Brett at gunpoint and you’ll get Wyatt.” He scratched his chin. “I suppose we can’t expect Wyatt to be quiet, which means he’ll wake up Brett. If this all goes according to plan, you take Wyatt away and call Espinoza. I’ll hold Brett for the authorities.”
“And we’ll take Wyatt home.”
“Until DCS sends out another caseworker.”
“But this time, Wyatt needs more security. Even with Brett out of the way, there still could be others after Wyatt. He’s not safe until we know the whole story.”
“I think after the murder of one of their own, DCS will acknowledge the threat and take it seriously.”
“Then we’re on the same page.”
Nash released a long breath. “That’s what I like to hear.”
The landscape rushed by, the lights illuminating a saguaro cactus here and there, tall enough to resemble a human shape, and occasionally picking out the glowing eyes of some night critter dodging the roaring mechanical intruder into his habitat.
Nash pointed out the mile marker that indicated their proximity to the trailer park. “We’re about a half mile out. Any closer and some night owl’s going to spot our headlights once we make that bend.”
Emily’s eyes widened, and the cords stood out in her delicate throat as she swallowed. “We’re walking a half a mile in this? In the dark?”
“Thought you were ready.” He gave her a playful punch in the arm.
“Oh, I am as long as you’re leading the way.”
“We can use the flashlights on our phones to make our way down the road. Nobody is going to see those from that distance.” He steered the truck into an outlet and cut the engine. As he stepped from the vehicle, the silence of the desert seemed to wrap him in a warm blanket, muffling his senses. He shook it off. He needed all his wits about him.
As if following the desert code, Emily eased her door shut, closing it with a click. She whispered, “I suppose there are snakes and scorpions out here.”
“If we don’t bother them, they won’t bother us.” He touched her arm and she jumped. “Sorry, take my hand and we’ll use our flashlights with our other hands.”
They stayed on the shoulder of the road, although they could’ve marched down the center divider as this area didn’t have a lot going for it and few people ventured out this way.
Emily stumbled a few times, swore and bumped against him, and then righted herself. After several yards, they got into a rhythm and traversed the distance smoothly.
He put his lips close to her ear as if someone were eavesdropping. “Let’s cut our lights. Those rocks up ahead mark the entrance.”
“How do you know this place?”
“I’ve made an arrest or two here.”
“Great, so you’re not exactly going to be popular.”
“Nope, but as we have no clue which ramshackle trailer belonged to Brett’s stepfather, we’re going to have to check out every one of them until we find him.”
“Ugh, I hope nobody’s awake.” She killed her light and tapped his phone. “Turn your phone off or put it on silent so it doesn’t start ringing or buzzing in the middle of the site.”
“Glad someone’s thinking clearly.” He silenced his phone and pocketed it. “Some of these residents may not be outside waiting for us, but my guess is there will be a few of them awake inside their trailers.”
He drew his weapon from his shoulder holster and held it pressed against his leg. “You follow me. I don’t want you going off on your own.”
“That’s ridiculous, Nash. We can cover more ground if both of us are looking.” She unzipped the pocket of her purse concealing her gun and pulled it out. “I’m a cop, remember? That’s what you keep telling me. Now act like you believe it.”
“All right.” Yeah, he should’ve never slept with her. “If you run into any trouble, you scream, yell, shoot your gun in the air. Got it? Don’t try to be a hero.”
“Same goes for you.” She smacked his backside with the palm of her hand.
Hunched over, creeping on silent feet, they approached the boulders. Nash squeezed her shoulder and pointed with his gun to the right.
He watched as the darkness enveloped her, and then he veered left.
When he got to the first trailer, he peered through an open window on the side. A fan whirred inside and light from a tablet cast a blue glow over the interior. When his eyes adjusted, he made out a man and a woman on a double futon. The man’s long, gray braid snaked over the edge.
Nash slipped away from the trailer and approached the next one about twenty feet away. Voices carried out the open window of this trailer, and he listened for a few minutes to two women arguing in low tones about the excessive alcohol use of one of them.
Nash backed away from the trailer, feeling like an eavesdropper. As he loped toward the next domicile, an old motor home with no wheels, the hair on his arms prickled. He froze and lifted his head, his nostrils quivering like a horse’s.
His ears strained to catch the sound he thought he’d heard—a gasp that hung on the air and swirled right through him. He made a half turn and almost stumbled over Emily.
She looked up at him and put her finger to her lips. She tugged on his arm, half dragging him across the open space of the trailer park.
When they approached a trailer at the edge of the site, she thrust out a finger. She plucked at his sleeve and he bent his head to hers.
“That’s his place. I recognize the shoes he left out front.” She patted her chest. “He made it easy for us.”
Nash slipped a knife from a holster on his leg and placed one foot on the porch. He pressed down on the door handle, and it turned.
He nudged Emily. Brett had made it really easy for them by not even locking his door.
Nash yanked on the aluminum door, and it opened with a huff.
Behind him, Emily had her weapon ready.
He eased open the door and stumbled back, gagging. He held out his arm to stop Emily, but she squeezed past him and fell to her knees.
She cranked her head around, her eyes wide above the hand clapped over her mouth. Her muffled words added another element of horror to the scene.
“He’s dead.”
Chapt
er Fifteen
An adrenaline rush spiked through Emily’s body, and she crawled past Brett’s inert form on the floor of the trailer. She lunged toward a basket next to an unmade bed and grabbed the sides, staring down into a jumble of blankets, one of Wyatt’s pacifiers discarded in the middle.
She grabbed it and spun around. Holding it out to Nash, who’d stepped over Brett’s body. “Wyatt was here. Brett did kidnap him and now someone else has him. We’re too late.”
She scrabbled forward on her hands and knees and bunched up Brett’s shirt with both hands, avoiding the bloody exit wound on his head. “Where is he, you SOB? Who has him?”
Crouching beside her, Nash placed a hand on her shoulder. “Careful, Emily. Don’t disturb the evidence.”
She released Brett’s shirt and brushed her hands together. “There’s not going to be much evidence. They must’ve used a silencer on the gun or everyone in the compound here would’ve come running.”
“Get on your phone and call 911.”
“How are we going to explain our presence here?” She pulled her phone from her pocket anyway. The sooner the police knew this dirtbag was dead, the sooner they could go after the next suspect—who might not be so willing to keep Wyatt alive.
“Now you’re asking me that?” Nash glanced at her over his shoulder as his hands moved through Brett’s clothing. “Maybe Jaycee mentioned this place to me or—”
“My God. What have you done?”
Emily held her phone out to the man with the long braid, who was pointing an accusatory finger at Nash still hunched over Brett’s body, his flashlight giving his face an ancient cast.
“I’m on the phone to 911 now.” She rambled off the nature of the emergency and then paused. “Where should I say we are?”
“Let me do it.” Nash pushed to his feet, shoving his own phone in his pocket. He took the phone from her and started speaking with the 911 operator.
Emily squeezed past Nash and out to the porch, where the man with the braid was now throwing up over the side. She took several steps away from him and gulped in some fresh air to replace the fetid odor from the trailer.
When the man had wiped his mouth and straightened up, she called to him, “Are you okay?”
“What happened in there?”
“Someone shot Brett in the head, killed him.” She added that last part needlessly. “He was wanted for questioning in a murder and kidnapping. Did you see him with a baby?”
The man narrowed his eyes so that they glittered in the dark like one of those night creatures they’d passed on their way here. “We saw the baby. My wife helped him with the little one. He didn’t know what he was doing.”
“Yeah, because he kidnapped him.” Emily clamped a hand on her hip. “Didn’t you know he was wanted? Didn’t you see his picture on TV?”
The man shrugged. “People come and people go.”
Emily clenched her jaw. No wonder Brett knew he’d be safe here—no questions asked, no police.
A few other people wandered from their trailers and motor homes. A woman called out, “What happened, Zeke?”
The Native American, presumably Zeke, spit into the dirt. “That smell left a taste in my mouth.”
“That’s death.”
Zeke nodded to her and turned to answer questions from the residents. A few broke past him and approached Brett’s trailer.
Emily took a step forward. “You need to stay back. That’s a crime scene. You don’t wanna go in there anyway. Trust me.”
A man with a buzz cut and bad teeth leered at her. “Trust you? Why should we trust you? Are you a cop?”
Emily almost smiled at the question. Depends on who you ask.
But there was a cop on the scene. Where the hell was Nash and what the hell was he doing in there?
“She’s not, but I am.” Nash emerged from the trailer, large and in charge. “Border Patrol, and this man was wanted by the police for questioning in a murder and kidnapping. Why didn’t one of you fine citizens call the police?”
“The police? Border Patrol?” The skinhead blew his nose into the dirt. “We don’t like your kind around here.”
Nash deliberately walked between her and the skinhead, creating a barrier between them, looming over the smaller man.
“Skeeter, give it a rest.” Zeke grabbed a handful of Skeeter’s grimy shirt and pulled him back. “They already called 911. I heard them. So, if you don’t want to be around when the cops get here, I suggest you go back to your domiciles or head out for a while.”
The residents grumbled, but several left the scene, including Skeeter, and a few minutes later a couple of motorcycles revved up and took off.
Emily cupped the pacifier between her hands and rested her chin on the tips of her fingers. “When are they going to get here?”
“A patrol car’s on the way. It’ll take another thirty to forty minutes for Espinoza and the Pima County Sheriff’s Department to get out here.” Nash circled her wrists with his long fingers. “Are you okay?”
She closed her eyes for a second. “Pretty gruesome in there, but the worst was seeing that empty makeshift crib. At least Brett wanted to keep Wyatt alive for some reason. What do the others want with him?”
“Again, the fact that we didn’t find Wyatt dead in that trailer next to Brett is a good sign. Brett didn’t kill Wyatt when he shot Alice because the baby served a greater purpose for him. The same applies here.”
“Excuse me.”
Emily turned toward the soft voice. An older woman with short gray hair and a sleeve of tattoos raised her hand and waved. She’d been standing next to Zeke.
“Yes?” Emily raised her chin. She was done getting attacked here when they were the ones who’d had a dead man in their midst.
The woman tilted her head. “Is the baby okay?”
“You were the one helping Brett with the baby?” Emily pressed a hand to her heart. “The baby’s gone. He wasn’t in the trailer when we found Brett. Did Brett tell you anything about the baby?”
“Thank the Goddess the baby wasn’t hurt.” The woman crossed her hands over her chest. “Brett told me the baby was his son and that the baby’s mother had died in an accident and they were separated at the time, so he hadn’t spent much time with Wyatt.”
“The baby’s mother was murdered, Brett is a suspect in that murder and we’re not even sure he’s the baby’s father. What’s your name?”
“I’m Luna. I didn’t believe his story, but out here...”
“I know. People come and people go.” Emily thrust out her hand. “I’m Emily. Thanks for helping out with Wyatt. Brett kidnapped him from a DCS caseworker after shooting her.”
Luna closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against her temples. “He brought violence and discord with him. I keep telling Zeke we need to move to another location. There’s a rough element infiltrating our place.”
“Did you see Brett with anyone? Did he tell you anything about someone wanting the baby?”
“He didn’t. I’m sorry, but at least the baby is missing instead of dead in that trailer. I had such a foreboding when I followed Zeke outside. I just knew the trouble involved Brett and that little baby. Such a precious little thing—an old soul. I could see it in his eyes.”
Emily blinked. She sensed Nash’s restless scorn, but she understood Luna completely.
Sirens blared in the distance and it took Emily a few seconds to recognize them for what they were. They seemed so out of place here.
“I know you folks aren’t fond of the police out here but if you cooperate with the detectives, it might help bring Wyatt back safely.”
“I will do my best.” Luna touched Emily’s arm. “You were meant to be with that baby.”
Luna floated away and Emily glanced at Nash to make sure she hadn’t dreamed the whole encounter.
&n
bsp; His lips twisted. “Earth mother, but at least she’s not hostile like the rest of them.”
When the patrol car pulled into the site, bathing the battered residences with red-and-blue lights, the space in front of Brett’s trailer cleared out, although Zeke and Luna stood firm.
When the officer exited his vehicle, Nash introduced himself and flashed his badge. Emily stayed outside as Nash led the officer to the trailer. They came out seconds later, the young cop covering his nose and mouth with one hand.
Brett’s body couldn’t have been there that long, but the heat had accelerated the decomposition process and anyone who’d entered that trailer would be living with the smell for a while.
The officer unfurled the yellow crime scene tape and blocked off the area. Then, notebook in hand, he began to question Zeke and Luna.
They had to wait almost another hour for the Pima County Sheriff’s homicide squad, led by Detective Espinoza.
When he strode up to the scene, his cowboy hat creating a big shadow behind him, he nodded once to Nash, not looking at all surprised to see him here.
Several minutes later, Espinoza questioned Emily, and she stuck to their story as closely as possible. She assured him that she and Nash would’ve called the police, but they didn’t really consider this a lead—just an offhand comment by Jaycee to Nash had led them here.
While Espinoza turned to ask Nash some further questions, Luna tugged on Emily’s arm. “Come to our place for a cup of tea. We’ll sit outside so you can keep an eye on things. I have a blend that’ll cleanse the evil aura for you.”
“I need that.” Emily poked Nash in the side and pointed to Luna.
She followed the older woman to her mobile home, where two chairs sat beneath an awning and a tin of water boiled on the camp stove.
When the tea was ready and steeped, Emily sipped the fragrant brew and tilted her head back to take in the stars, sitting in companionable silence with Luna.
After about thirty minutes, Nash ambled over. “Are you ready?”
“I am.” Emily patted Luna’s arm. “Thanks for the tea and the company.”
Chain of Custody (Holding The Line Book 2) Page 14