Tracking Justice (Texas K-9 Unit)

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Tracking Justice (Texas K-9 Unit) Page 16

by Shirlee McCoy

“I thought the same. Let’s hope the information he’s offering is as worth it as he’s claiming.”

  “He’s never failed us before.”

  “I know. And I’ve got to admit that this is getting my blood flowing. Hopefully, it will also breathe some new life into the case. I’ll expect to hear from you as soon as your meeting is over.”

  “You know that you will,” he promised.

  “Good. Now, how about we both pack up and get out of here?” Slade retreated into his office, and Austin shoved the file into the cabinet, turned off his computer and stretched the kinks out of his back.

  “Come on, Justice. Let’s go home,” he said.

  Justice lumbered up from his spot beneath Austin’s desk, stretching his long, sturdy body and shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, his jowls slapping back and forth with the force of the motion. Austin scratched the sensitive spot beneath his chin, grinning as the bloodhound nudged his hand for more.

  “Sorry, boy. We’ve got to get going.” He attached Justice’s leash and led him out into the silent parking lot.

  Sagebrush was quiet this time of night. Most reputable establishments closed; most people locked away in their homes. A small city with a rural vibe, it wasn’t the kind of place where people partied until all hours of the night. Sure, there were dives and bars where those who wanted to could lose themselves until the sun came up, but those places were few and far between.

  That was one of the things Austin loved about this town.

  He crated Justice and started the SUV, pulling out onto the deserted road and driving toward home. He hadn’t been there since morning when he’d left to go sit with Brady. He’d stayed at the Billows’s place listening to Brady’s home tutor go over addition with carrying and how to write a friendly letter until Eva arrived home at five. She’d been harried and tired, thanking him absently as he’d rushed out the door. They could have been an old married couple, moving in synch, plugged into each other’s lives but somehow distant.

  Could have been, except that they weren’t married.

  Weren’t even a couple.

  Not in the truest sense of the word.

  There was something there, though, their relationship both exciting and fresh and easy and familiar. He’d never experienced that with a woman before, and the power of it had him thinking about Eva way more than he probably should be.

  He pulled up in front of his house, the windows dark and uninviting. He should have remembered to leave a light or two on. Not because he feared the dark, but because it made coming home seem so much less lonely.

  “Come on, boy. I think lack of sleep is starting to get to me.” He let Justice out of the crate and walked to the front door. A box sat on the stoop. Cardboard. Maybe two by three feet and a half foot tall. He hadn’t ordered anything, and the box didn’t look sealed or sent. No address label. No tape. Nothing.

  The hair on his nape stood on end, and he tugged Justice back as the bloodhound tried to nose the box. “Stay!”

  The dog subsided, his nose lifted into the air, his body straining forward as if he were desperate to get to the box. Justice wasn’t trained in explosive detection but he had a great nose, and whatever was in the box was exciting him.

  “Stay!” Austin ordered again, then moved toward the box cautiously. He had no reason to believe he’d be the target of an attack, but better to be safe than dead.

  A white envelope rested between the box and the door, and Austin opened it carefully, letting a slip of paper fall into his hand.

  Someone had scribbled across the front:

  You were probably too busy to eat dinner. I thought I’d better feed you so you’re not stuck with overcooked pasta again. E.

  Surprised, he opened the box flaps and pulled out two large plastic containers. He wasn’t sure what was in them, but whatever it was smelled good. His stomach rumbled, and Justice whined. Obviously, he was hungry, too.

  “Come on. I think it’s time for both of us to eat.” He carried the box into the house and set it down on the table, fed Justice and let him out in the backyard.

  He knew what he shouldn’t do. Call Eva and thank her. Especially not at this time of night. He glanced at the clock. This time of morning.

  He was tempted, though.

  Too tempted.

  His cell phone rang as he opened up the first container.

  “Black, here,” he said as he poured thick stew into a bowl and shoved it into the microwave.

  “Did you get the food, or did the coyotes drag it away before you got home?”

  His heart pounded at the sound of her voice. “I just got it and was thinking about calling you. I thought it might be too late.”

  “I thought the same thing, and then I started worrying that maybe something had happened to you, and that’s why you hadn’t...”

  “Called to thank you for the food?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t mean for it to sound like I expected you to thank me. It’s just... Okay. Maybe I did mean it to sound that way. What I mean is, you’re always so polite, and I couldn’t imagine that you’d... Never mind.” She sighed, but there was a smile in her voice, and he imagined her pale cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her eyes glinting with humor.

  “I’m glad you called, and you know it’s never too late, right? I’d be happy to answer the phone any time of day if you were on the line.”

  “Keep sweet-talking me, Austin, and I might have to make pie the next time I bring you dinner.”

  “What kind?”

  “Apple?”

  “My favorite.” He pulled the stew from the microwave, set it on the table, wishing he were at Eva’s house, sitting in her tiny kitchen, looking in her eyes rather than talking to her on the phone. “The stew looks great. When did you bring it over?”

  “I asked Mrs. Daphne to drop it off. Now, of course, she thinks we’ll be married by fall.” The phone clicked, the soft sound repeating twice.

  “Is someone trying to call you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I can let you go—”

  “No!” she nearly shouted, and Austin frowned, his hand tightening on the phone.

  “What’s going on, Eva?”

  “I don’t know. Probably nothing. It’s just, we’ve been getting phone calls all afternoon. Whoever it is hangs up as soon as anyone answers. It’s silly, I know...but it’s bothering me.”

  “Aside from the call you just received, when did you get the last one?”

  “Just before I called you.”

  “And how many calls do you think you’ve gotten altogether?” he demanded.

  “At least one every hour since I got home.”

  “And you’re just now letting me know?” Austin dropped his empty bowl into the sink and paced to the window. Bright moonlight poured onto the yard, painting it in shades of gold and gray. A beautiful winter landscape, but that didn’t mean that danger wasn’t lurking somewhere in it.

  “It seemed like a silly thing to bother you about.”

  “How about from now on, you let me decide whether or not something is too silly to bother me with?”

  “That would kind of defeat the whole purpose of me vetting things so that you can rest.”

  “I don’t need rest, Eva. I need to make sure you and Brady are okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “You can’t—”

  He hung up.

  No amount of arguing on her part was going to keep him from driving to her place. Hopefully, once he got there, they’d figure out that there was nothing more to the calls than a wrong number or a persistent solicitor. Somehow, though, he didn’t think that was going to be the case.

  NINETEEN

  She probably shouldn’t have called Austin.

  She definitely shouldn’t have called him.

  But Eva had been nearly asleep when the phone rang for what seemed like the hundredth time. She’d been drifting into a nightmare where Brady was missing again, and she’d grabbed the phone, confus
ed, still riding the waves of fear. She’d pressed the receiver to her ear, heard nothing but the soft sound of empty air. There’d been something awful in that emptiness, as if the person were right outside the window, watching as she lay in bed.

  The thought had been horrifying, and she’d found herself reaching for her cell phone and dialing Austin’s number. She hadn’t wanted him to come over. She’d just wanted to hear his voice, ask if he’d gotten the food that Mrs. Daphne had dropped off, pretend that her life was normal and easy and that Austin would always be a part of it.

  “And so what if he isn’t? You’ll go on, and you’ll be fine,” she whispered as she drew back the living-room curtain and looked outside. Moonlight drenched the street in gold, but clouds moved across the horizon. Rain coming, and she could almost feel its energy in the air.

  Or maybe that was her own energy.

  Restless.

  Anxious.

  Scared.

  The police car sat where it had been all day, the officer offering a quick wave as he caught sight of Eva. She could have flagged him down, had him come in and check things out.

  She hadn’t.

  She knew what that said about her. Knew what it meant.

  She couldn’t make herself care, though.

  Maybe she wouldn’t have Austin in her life forever, but having him there now was wonderful.

  Lights flashed behind the curtains, and she knew he’d arrived. She didn’t wait for him to ring the doorbell or to knock, just opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, standing in the dark while he got out of his car. He ran up the porch stairs, and it felt as though he was coming home.

  Her throat clogged, her eyes burned, and she let him pull her into his arms, let her head rest on his chest. Felt his heartbeat beneath her ear.

  Felt as if she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

  * * *

  “I’m really sorry, Austin. I shouldn’t have called,” she said, looking up into his face.

  “Of course you should have. Let’s go inside and see if we can figure things out.” He took her arm, his hand warm against her cool skin, his fingers sliding along her elbow and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, but all she managed to do was fill it up with more of Austin. His darkly masculine scent, the clean crisp fragrance of soap and winter air.

  He went to the phone, lifting it and scrolling through the last few calls. “An unlisted number, but we should be able to find out where it came from. Did you let the answering machine pick up at all?”

  “Once I realized that someone was calling and hanging up, I let it pick up every time except the last.” She sat on the couch, her muscles aching from a long work shift and too many hours hunched over schoolbooks.

  “Mind if I listen?”

  “Knock yourself out, but he didn’t leave a message.”

  Austin pressed play, cocking his head to the side as he listened to empty air. Finally, the last message ended. “He’s persistent. I’ll give him that.”

  “Maybe it’s a solicitor,” she suggested.

  “Calling so frequently? I don’t think so.”

  “I’d say a bill collector, but the only debt I have is my house mortgage, and I always pay that on time.”

  “You’re grasping at straws, hoping this isn’t connected to Brady’s kidnapping.” It wasn’t a question, but she answered, anyway.

  “I’m not grasping. I’m just trying to find a reasonable explanation.”

  “The only reasonable explanation I can think of is that someone is trying to get under your skin. Maybe force you into making a move that will get you out from under police protection.”

  “Well, he’s definitely managed to get under my skin, but I’m not going to do anything stupid because of it.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He smiled, and the butterflies in her stomach took flight. Again. “I’m going to call this in. See if we can get a bead on where the phone call is coming from. Maybe our perp has finally made a mistake, and we’ll be able to bring him in.”

  “I’ll start some coffee. I don’t know about you, but I could use some.”

  “Decaf?”

  “If you want.” She walked into the kitchen while he made his phone call, plugging in the coffeepot, but keeping the light off. She didn’t want to wake Brady.

  “We’re set. Hopefully, we’ll have the phone traced by first light.” Austin walked into the room, his voice as quiet as his footsteps. Of course, he’d be thinking about Brady sleeping just down the hall. That’s the way Austin was, always thinking about others, planning around them. It made him difficult to resist.

  Maybe even impossible to resist.

  Did she even want to resist him?

  She turned away, focusing her attention on the coffee and the cup she was pouring it into. “Want some milk or cream? Mrs. Daphne ran to the store for me. We were running low on supplies.”

  “Black is fine.” He took the mug and sat at the table, his long legs encased in dark denim, his feet in scuffed cowboy boots. Masculine. Strong. Sitting right there at her kitchen table, and Eva wanted to stand behind him, rub the tension from his shoulders, let her fingers slide through his dark hair.

  “Cookies?” Her voice was husky, her hand shaking as she pulled a package from the cupboard.

  “I think I’ll wait and have more stew when I get home.”

  “You’re still hungry?” she asked, telling herself that she wasn’t going to offer to heat something up for him, that she’d already done her part by making double what she normally would for dinner and sending Mrs. Daphne to Austin’s house with it.

  “No, but the stew was so good, I want more.”

  “I have plenty in the freezer.” She started to open the door, ready to do exactly what she’d said she wouldn’t, but he grabbed her hand, tugged her so that she was standing between his legs.

  “I’m fine.” His hands were on her waist, his eyes dark pools that she couldn’t seem to look away from.

  Didn’t even want to try to look away from.

  She touched his hair, her fingers trailing through the silky strands. “I like your hair.”

  “I like you.” He stood, his hands sliding up her back and down again.

  “Austin...”

  “You look beautiful today. Have I told you that?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, because she had no breath in her lungs, no thoughts in her head.

  “Good, because I think that if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never forget how you look right now.”

  “In a flannel robe with my hair scraped back in a braid? I want you to forget it.”

  “It’s not going to happen. You know why?”

  “No, but I think you’re going to tell me.”

  He laughed, but his eyes were somber. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever known who hasn’t cared that the only time we can get together is late at night or early in the morning, the only woman who hasn’t needed full makeup and nice clothes to feel confident. That makes you exceptionally beautiful to me.”

  Just centimeters separated them, and she put her hands on his chest, not sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

  “You terrify me, Austin, because when you say things like that, all I can think about is just how long I’ve been waiting to meet someone like you.”

  “Good,” he murmured, his lips grazing the tender flesh behind her ear.

  She melted against him, her hands sinking into his hair as their lips met. Every thought, every fear, every caution flying away. She felt raw and open, vulnerable and tender.

  A tear slipped down her cheek. Just one tear, and she couldn’t stop the rest from falling. They spilled down her face, soaking into Austin’s shirt, her body stiff and aching from the effort to stop them.

  “Shhh,” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “I am. I’ve ruined a perfectly good moment.” She sniffed, stepping
away from his arms, lifting her coffee cup and trying to sip the warm brew.

  “Perfectly good? I was thinking it was a little better than that.”

  His comment surprised a laugh out of her, and she brushed the last of the tears away. “Don’t be so wonderful, okay, Austin? It will only hurt more if you walk away.”

  “I think I told you that I don’t plan to do that.”

  “Does anyone ever plan to?” She sighed.

  “What are you really afraid of, Eva? Because I don’t think it’s me.”

  “Rick—”

  “Don’t.” He raised a hand, cutting off the words before she could speak them. “I’m not him. I already told you that. If you still can’t accept it, maybe it’s best if I walk away now.”

  She should let him go.

  It would be easier on both of them.

  A quick break now, before they fell any further.

  He took a step, and she touched his shoulder, let her hand fall away as he glared into her face. “What?”

  “You want to know the truth? I’m terrified that I’ll turn out like my mother, sitting in a rocking chair, crying for a guy who never loved her. I’m afraid that I’ll waste my life on someone who wouldn’t waste a second on me. I’m afraid that all the things I want are going to tie me to something that isn’t good for me, and I’ll wind up dead in a pool of my own blood, Brady crying over my body.”

  “That’s a lot of fear for someone who says she has faith.” He raked a hand through his hair, took a sip of coffee.

  “I do have faith. In God. Not in myself.”

  “Maybe you need to have it in both. And in me. I’d better go. It’s late, and we both have busy days tomorrow.” He walked out of the kitchen, left her standing there, the taste of his lips still on hers, the heat of his touch still pulsing wildly through her blood, the sound of his words echoing in the empty place in her heart.

  TWENTY

  Tall trees loomed black against the night sky, the Lost Woods beckoning as Austin parked his SUV near the west entrance and jumped out. Keevers stood next to a small Jeep, his shoulders tense.

  “You’re late,” he said as Austin approached.

  “Getting the kind of money you asked for takes time.”

 

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