by Kylie Brant
But it had taken a couple days before he understood just how far her job was from “hostessing.”
“The man she introduced as her boyfriend was nothing more than a drug pushing pimp.” The look Jake shot Ria was full of the bitterness that had long ridden him. “Alvarez reeled her in with a promise of money and attention. He got her hooked on drugs and then he put her on the street. She died of an overdose when she was twenty-six, two weeks after I got to town. And may be Alvarez didn’t put the needle in her arm that time, but you’ll never convince me he isn’t responsible for her death.”
There was compassion in Ria’s eyes, and something else he recognized. Regret. “Yes, he’s responsible. Directly, indirectly, it doesn’t matter. She’s just as dead either way. But your death isn’t going to right hers. You can’t convince me she would have wanted you to take that kind of risk.”
His mouth twisted. “No, Jilly was never much for risks.” Like their mother, she’d put her faith in the wrong man because she’d needed so badly to be taken care of. Had allowed the mistreatment because she lacked the strength to walk away, even if she’d been allowed to.
He’d known her well enough not to accept her story at face value. If he’d done something sooner, gotten her away, she might still be alive. And that fact would haunt him to the grave.
The law wouldn’t hold Alvarez responsible for Jilly’s death, so it was up to Jake. And from his experience with his stepfather, he knew just how careful he’d have to be. So he accepted a low-level position in Alvarez’s organization, and used the opportunity to learn as much as he could about the man’s illegal sidelines. Then he’d tipped off Vice, and they’d done the rest.
He’d arranged for a great deal of the cocaine Alvarez had intended for the street pushers to be found in the trunk of his car. It was, he thought, a sort of poetic justice. And the moment the man had had the cuffs slapped on him, Jake had moved in and reshaped Alvarez’s empire into his own.
Alvarez had had ten years to suffer, but even that wasn’t enough to pay for his part in Jilly’s death. When he was released from prison, he’d be a dead man. It was only a matter of time.
He glanced at Ria, found her almost dressed. “You better than anyone should know that sometimes the only choice we have is to play the cards we’re dealt.” And even if he wished for a different hand now, nothing would change. This had been set in motion too long ago. Win or lose, he had to see it through.
Ria stopped at the sheriff’s office to catch up with as much paperwork as she could. She was mindful of the fact that every minute that ticked by counted down her remaining time here. So she stayed later than she’d planned, getting her files in order so the transition to a new sheriff would be as seamless as possible.
With grim humor she reflected that Ralston just might get his wish. With her sudden disappearance, the county commissioners might look upon his job bid a bit more favorably.
As she pulled into the lane leading up to her home, though, thoughts of the Fenton County Sheriff’s Department were far behind her. Although it seemed like a lifetime ago, it had only been last night when she’d requested the new information from Benny. She had no doubt it was in her in-box right this moment.
Even the surge of anticipation tightening her stomach, however, wasn’t enough to have her skirting her usual security check. Given all that she and Jake had discovered the last few days, caution remained imperative.
When she got inside she bypassed the kitchen, even though her stomach was growling violently. Food, if she could find any, would have to wait. Quickly she strode upstairs and booted up the computer. While she waited, she got a briefcase out of the closet and began to empty the filing cabinet of the papers she’d been working on.
Once she’d finished the task, she sat down and typed in the password needed for her e-mail account. A quick flare of satisfaction filled her when she saw the expected message with attachments from Benny. Impatiently, she tapped in a command, waited for the documents to download.
And despite her best efforts, her mind returned, over and over, to Jake.
It seemed bitterly ironic that while she was planning to protect him, he was openly embracing the danger that Alvarez’s release would mean. She pressed the keys for the documents to print.
She planned to slip away without taking him up on his offer of a jet and protected location. As long as Hendricks was free, she was at risk, and so was anyone around her. But her efforts would probably be in vain. The deadly game Jake was engaged in with Alvarez was every bit as lethal as the links she was discovering to Hendricks.
Snatching up the papers as the printer spat them out on the tray, she scanned the first two quickly. They listed the only MIA reports involving female soldiers in the time period of her own disappearance. Although women weren’t sent into combat, that didn’t mean they weren’t sometimes caught up in danger during the course of their assignments.
But it didn’t take long to ascertain that neither of these women could be her. One was too old and the other had the wrong eye color. Setting the reports aside, she went to the next printouts.
There were more female soldiers listed as AWOL than she would have expected. Twelve in all, with all but two eventually caught and dishonorably discharged. It was the records for the remaining two that captured her attention.
It wasn’t the names of the women she looked at first; her gaze zeroed in on the C.O. at their last post location. Recognition punched through her, like a sneaky left jab.
The commanding officer on one of the records read Colonel C. Albert Hendricks.
Her system seemed to freeze, a paralysis that shut down organs. Clogged breathing. She stumbled backward, dropped into the chair, eyes sweeping down the pages.
Starkey, Karen L., Sgt. FC.
Performed leadership duties in a decisive and positive manner with exceptional results.
Her mental toughness and integrity are beyond reproach.
Ria’s gaze riveted on another paragraph, a dull roar sounding in her ears.
Fluent in multiple languages. This, along with her ASVAB score, makes her an ideal candidate for military intelligence.
Ria flipped through the pages numbly. Her mind seemed frozen; she couldn’t take it all in. But she didn’t need to read any further to know that she held the key to her real identity in her hands.
Smoke rolled from the old barn, billowing black clouds of it filling the air and blocking vision. Flames shot triumphant spikes skyward, evading the streams of water pumping through the fire hoses. There was a steady crackling as the conflagration greedily consumed more of the structure, hissing blankets of steam rising from the area Tripolo firefighters were targeting.
Hearing another siren in the distance, Ria spoke into her radio. “Parker, roll that emergency fencing back. Sounds like Bakersfield’s trucks are on the way.” Noting the crowd had swelled appreciably, she radioed the deputy she had stationed at the mouth of the driveway. “Clark? Have you checked the road to make sure it’s clear for the emergency vehicles?”
There was a burst of static before Clark’s response came through. “…use another officer out here for traffic management. Don’t know where all these people are coming from.”
“I’ll get one out there.” Ria looked up and scanned the crowd. “Cook. Clark could use a hand keeping the traffic moving.”
The man nodded, started off. Ria made her way to where a pair of her deputies stood with the owner of the property, Darrell Hempsted. The old man was gazing at the blaze with a scowl on his face. Of course, she couldn’t be certain the present situation was the cause for his mood. She’d met him a couple of other times, when he’d come into the office to lodge a complaint. He was, according to Marlyss’s shared confidence, a faultin’ sort of person.
When he saw her coming toward them, Hempsted’s expression grew truculent. “If you’d done what I told you the last time I was in, Sheriff, this wouldn’ta happened. I hold you personally responsible.”
To her deputies she said, “Simpson looks like he could use a hand with crowd control.” Then she shifted her attention to the older man. “You’ll have to refresh my memory, Mr. Hempsted. What was it you requested?”
The man sent a stream of chewing tobacco to the ground. “It’s them damn Yarrow boys, I done told you that. Hangin’ out here all the time, smoking cigarettes and drinking what beer they can steal. Wouldn’t be a bit surprised if they played hooky again and spent the day holed up in there, and look what they done now.” He nodded toward the blaze, a losing battle being fought by the firefighters.
Memory came to her aid, supplying her with details. She had sent a deputy to talk to the brothers, and they’d admitted to being in the barn “once or twice.” Since the old man had more suspicions than real evidence, there had been little the sheriff’s department could do other than issue the boys a warning.
“We’ll talk to them tomorrow.” At least, she mentally corrected, someone would. She wouldn’t be there. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to issue herself that reminder today.
“If’n you’d done something before, this wouldn’ta happened.” He stomped off.
The Bakersfield truck joined Tripolo’s emergency vehicles, but Ria could tell the fire was a lost cause. Now the biggest concern would be to keep it from spreading. Fortunately, the building was several hundred yards away from the Hempsted home. The family wasn’t in any danger, unless it was from Darrell’s ire.
Several hours later the barn was little more than smoldering cinders and most of the crowd had dispersed. Ria thanked the fire chief and his men and headed down the driveway, cognizant of the time. She had less than an hour before Jake was to send a car for her. They’d discussed the plan for several minutes when he’d called that afternoon, interrupting her as she was finishing the employee evaluations.
He’d sounded distant, although his interest had sharpened when she’d briefed him on what she’d discovered the night before. They’d decided that she’d meet the car he sent for her on the road along the adjacent property. She didn’t want any neighbor to spot a strange car at her place. Her disappearance needed to be absolute. It would be better that way for everyone.
And though Jake’s resources would help spirit her away, at the first opportunity she’d settle on a different location from which to conduct the rest of her investigation. She refused to put him at risk by allowing him knowledge of her whereabouts.
That morning, she’d downloaded all her information onto a CD. The hard drive had been wiped, then a few innocuous files placed back on it. On her way to work that morning she’d stopped at the post office and mailed the CD to the anonymous mail drop she used. Once she returned home, there was little left to do but wait for the time she was to meet Jake.
Since there was nothing more to be done here, she began radioing each officer to give them their orders as she headed to her car.
At the end of the driveway, Scott Carter hailed her. “Sheriff. How long you want for us to stick around?”
She halted. “I’m sending everyone home but Simpson and Cook. They’ll stay as long as the fire crew does.”
The man gave a nod. “I’m not going to argue. Missed supper by several hours tonight. Can I drop you anywhere?”
“I drove, but thanks anyway.” She’d been using a spare cruiser ever since her department issue car had been shot up.
He fell into step with her as they walked to their respective cars. “You bought the Haskell place a couple miles down the road, didn’t you? My grandparents used to live in that house. It’s been sold a couple times since, but I have lots of good memories of running around that old place when I was a kid.”
She halted, her hand on the car door. “Why did your grandparents sell it?”
He propped an elbow on the hood. “Oh, they got older, moved to town. Didn’t want to be so isolated anymore, I guess.” He gave her a wave and climbed into his vehicle.
She thought of his words as she got in the car. She hadn’t been seeking isolation when she’d looked at the place as much as she had privacy. It was the first property she’d bought in the last six years, but there were few memories she’d take away from there. Perhaps of finding Jake ensconced in her easy chair, gun hidden beneath the newspaper. His unexplained presence that night had seemed to linger, despite her efforts to expel it. Of the two of them poring over the military files upstairs.
Or of the moment in her office last night when she’d first become certain she’d discovered her real name.
She pulled the car to a stop next to the house, reached for the flashlight. The perimeter check would be another last in a day that had been full of them. She switched the light on, circled the house, playing the beam over the ground. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she climbed the back steps, carefully checking the position of the mat, the paint chip she’d repositioned on the doorknob. Satisfied, she descended the steps again and rounded the house to examine the front door before heading inside.
The dog seemed to come out of nowhere, snarling and barking. Ria jumped back, raised the flashlight threateningly. The animal was huge, some cross lab mix, and judging from the collar it wore, probably belonged to one of the neighbors.
More annoyed than frightened, she held her ground until the animal backed away, still barking. Keeping a cautious eye on it, she continued toward the front of the house. The animal was large enough to have triggered the silent alarm system she had rigged up. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened.
She passed by the window of the living room, half expecting to see the lights blinking their warning. But the interior of the house was dark. She frowned, switching her flashlight off, and looked again. The house remained in shadows.
Backtracking, she headed around the house to look in the kitchen window. No lights flickered near the baseboards there, either.
A cold blade of fear scraped down her spine. She’d deliberately bypassed electricity as a power supply for all her security precautions, so she couldn’t blame this failure on a power outage.
She stepped away from the window and flattened herself against the house, dread pooling in her stomach. There could be a short in the wiring. A flaw in the system itself.
Or it could have been deliberately deactivated. Which could only be done by someone in her house.
Chapter 10
Ria collected her thoughts for a moment, tried to still the nasty little fingers of dread gripping her. Surely this leap to paranoia was a product of the recent events. But she’d survived this long by listening to her instincts.
And they were screaming at her now.
She could slip across the property adjacent to hers and wait for Jake. In less than an hour she’d be well away from here. Far away from the danger that might await her inside.
But the records were in there, bundled in a small briefcase she’d intended to bring with her, along with the vials and syringes she’d taken off the two assassins. Ria hesitated, torn. She could get the records sent to her again, after she’d taken the precaution of establishing a different e-mail account. Benny had managed it once. There was no reason to think that he…
Realization arrowed into her with dizzying accuracy. Benny. Her disposable cell phone, the one she kept only to contact him, was in the briefcase, as well. It was supposed to be untraceable, but could it be used to track a person Ria had called? Fear circled in her chest as she considered the possibility. And thoughts of creeping away withered and vanished. For someone with enough money and power, there was no telling the kind of technology that could be used to retrieve Benny’s number. From there he was only a heartbeat away from suffering the same fate Luz had.
Ria had sworn no innocent would ever die because of her again.
Having made the decision, she turned her mind to how to get inside and take the intruder by surprise. He had to know she was out here; he would have seen the headlights. He must have tripped the wire on his approach to the house, and disengaged the lights she’d rigge
d up, in case they tipped her off.
She’d taken other precautions. There was an escape route from the house, although she’d always considered using it to get away, not as an alternate means to get inside. But if she was going to ambush the intruder by surprise, it was her only hope.
She set the flashlight on the ground, and swiftly removed one boot, then the other. Creeping toward the front of the house, she hoisted herself up on the porch railing and to the roof.
By standing on the porch roof she could just reach the overhang above. With a leap Ria grabbed the edge and pulled herself up, far enough to swing one leg over the side.
Moments later she lay flat against the slanted roof, her lungs heaving from her efforts. But there was no time to linger. He’d be in there waiting. Had probably already figured out she’d been tipped off to his presence. Would he come outside for her? She thought he would. She was hoping that he’d never dream she’d come in after him.
She rose to a crouched position, began making her way up to the peak. In the center, directly above the attic, the roofline flattened. There was a trapdoor in that flat section, probably put there to allow the owner to get to the chimney for cleaning. It would provide her with the access she needed now.
She lifted the small door, set it aside. Climbing down the old wire-rung ladder on the side of the chimney, Ria stepped onto the attic floor, praying her entry had gone undetected. If the intruder stayed downstairs, if he was watching doors and windows rather than the upper level…
Finally able to draw her gun, she released the safety and tiptoed down the attic steps. At the door, she took a deep breath, turned the knob and pushed it open slowly. She went through it low, both hands on her weapon as she secured the area. Finding herself alone there, she shut the door quietly behind her and went hunting.