Focus.
Get your shit together.
Find Kayla.
Bree was a champion compartmentalizer, but a threat to Kayla overrode her coping mechanism.
“You last saw her in front of the hot dog stand?” Bree asked Cathy while simultaneously signaling for Todd, who was behind the table helping Cady.
“Yes.” Cathy nodded. “I’m so sorry. The girls were holding hands. I don’t know how this happened.”
Todd muscled his way around the table and through the crowd. “Sheriff?”
“Put out a lost-child announcement over the PA.” Bree gave him a description of Kayla’s clothing. “I want everyone looking for her.”
Todd, once again wearing his uniform, reached for the radio mic on his shoulder. “I’ll post a deputy at either end of the parking area too. We’ll lock down the exits.” He raised a hand and summoned the other deputies at the tent.
Bree went down on one knee so she would be at Emma’s eye level. Tears streamed down the little girl’s face.
“Emma, what happened?” Bree asked.
Emma’s lower lip trembled. “I don’t know. There was a clown. He grabbed Kayla.”
Kayla had been abducted.
Fear turned Bree’s stomach inside out. She took Emma’s hands. Bree needed this child to have more information. Kayla’s life literally depended on it. “I want you to picture him in your mind. What do you see?”
Emma’s face screwed up. “A clown.”
“Was he wearing a clown suit?” Bree tried.
The little girl looked down at her own pants and shook her head. “Jeans.”
“What about his shirt? What color was it?”
“Red,” Emma said.
“Was his clown face painted on?” Bree asked.
Emma frowned. “It was like a Halloween mask.”
Bree used her cell to relay the information to Todd, who was already on his way to the judge’s stand to use the PA system.
“I’m so sorry,” Cathy cried.
“I know. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.” Bree set her aside. “Right now, we have to find her.”
Bree rushed to the sheriff’s table, where she quickly explained to Cady and Marge. She had to fight the irrational urge to run wildly through the crowd screaming Kayla’s name. She had a whole team of deputies on-site, and they knew what to do.
Something cold and wet nudged her hand. Brody sat at Bree’s side and whined, as if he could sense her distress.
“Do you think Brody could find her?” Bree asked Cady.
“Yes!” Cady grabbed the dog’s leash. “We don’t have his working harness, but I think he’ll figure it out.”
Bree retrieved Kayla’s cowboy hat from the tent. “We should take him to the hot dog stand. That’s where Kayla was last seen.”
They jogged across the grass. Brody knew something was up. His ears were forward, and his attitude had shifted from pet to police dog. At the stand, she offered the hat to the dog and repeated the command Matt used to ask him to search. She expected him to put his nose to the ground, but the big dog stood stock still. His head swiveled and he sniffed the air.
Bree kept the leash slack. “Am I doing this right?” she asked Cady.
Cady bit her lip. “I don’t know if he’ll work for anyone but Matt. Every dog is different, but Brody is in a class by himself.”
Watching the dog, Bree pulled out her phone and called Matt. “Where are you?”
“Home,” Matt said. “What’s wrong?”
“Kayla’s been abducted.” Bree’s voice caught as she said the words out loud. “I’ve given Brody her hat. Will he search for her?”
Before Matt could answer, Brody set off between the tents. The leash went taut, and Bree hurried to keep up with the dog. “He’s going somewhere. I’ll call you back.”
She heard Matt shout, “I’m on my way,” as she hit “End” and shoved the phone into her pocket.
Brody weaved in and out of the stalls, pulling Bree as she struggled to keep pace. Stranger abductions were rare, but when they occurred, the children were typically killed within three hours. Because she was a cop, Bree’s brain automatically conjured the worst-case scenario, and fear balled under her breastbone like a cancer. She was vaguely aware of Cady jogging behind them. Hope gathered in her heart, but she was afraid to give it a voice. Please, please let him find her.
The dog stopped behind the funnel cake stand. Bree waited while he sniffed the air.
“Did he lose the scent?” Please say no.
“I don’t know,” Cady said. “Give him time.”
They didn’t have time.
“How can he smell her with all these competing odors?” All Bree could smell was hot dogs and popcorn.
The dog started off again. He leaned into the collar, pulling hard. Bree jogged behind him. The tents ended. A strip of weeds and grass separated the fairgrounds from the parking areas. Deputy vehicles blocked both exits. Brody made a hard right and traveled behind the tents. Bree ducked under a rope and struggled to keep up. The German shepherd made a beeline for a storage building, picking up his pace as they neared it. Bree tripped. The leash slipped out of her hand, and Brody shot off. Cady steadied Bree, and both women sprinted forward.
Brody hit the door of the building with both front paws and barked. He was agitated, whining and pacing. The metal door was padlocked. Bree and Cady circled the building. There were no windows and no back door. Cement slab. Metal walls and roof. She either needed to open the door or find a blowtorch.
The dog faced the door, then looked back at Bree and barked as if to tell her to open it. Banging sounded from inside the building.
Bree pounded a fist on the door in the same rhythm as she heard pounded against the inside of her ribs. “Kayla, are you in there?”
“Aunt Bree!” a high-pitched voice cried out.
Relief, gratitude, and fury flooded Bree. The combination was so extreme, her legs wobbled. “Are you OK?”
“Let me out!” Kayla screamed, her voice wild.
“I’ll have you out of there in a few minutes.” Bree used her radio to call for a deputy. She gave her location. “I need bolt cutters.”
Brody barked. He stood at the front door and pawed at the metal. Cady picked up his leash and tried to calm him, but he ignored her. His entire focus was on the metal door.
Todd pulled up in his vehicle. He jumped out and used bolt cutters to snip the padlock. Bree yanked open the door. The building was empty. In the middle of a space the size of a basketball court, Kayla stood on the concrete facing the door. Her braids were disheveled, and her T-shirt ripped. A stuffed pink teddy bear lay on the floor next to her boots. Bree dropped to one knee, and Kayla ran into her arms. Her face was red, her cheeks wet with tears.
As she registered Kayla’s safety—and her panicked state—anger replaced fear in Bree’s heart. Rage rose like a phoenix, a blistering surge of emotion that obliterated every ounce of reason, like a red-hot poker had pierced her soul and stirred her fury to a boiling point. The power of it both shocked and emboldened her. A man had frightened, endangered, and attempted to kidnap Kayla.
He put his hands on her.
On the outside, Bree’s body was as still as stone. Inside, her anger bubbled and popped like magma beneath a volcano. Never in her life had she felt an overwhelming urge to hurt someone. The emotion and drive were primal.
The violence of anger would have shocked her if she’d been capable of rational thought. She took several deep breaths. She inhaled the reassuring smell of sweat, hay, and kids’ shampoo. Kayla was OK. Bree let herself absorb the news.
Bree held her tightly against her body until the desire to rip off a head passed. Brody barked and nudged Kayla.
Bree loosened her grip on the child. “Brody is the one who found you.”
Kayla wrapped one arm around the big dog’s neck and kissed him. “I love him. He’s the best boy.”
“He is,” Bree agreed.
&nb
sp; Kayla leaned back and wiped her face with the back of her forearm. “I did what you told me. I kicked and fought. I even kicked him where you told me to. I scratched him too.”
“I’m proud of you.” Bree released the child and scanned her from head to toe. “Are you hurt?”
“I was scared before.” Kayla shook her head and stomped her booted foot. “Now I’m mad.”
Good for you.
“Me too, honey. Me too.” Bree gently took both her niece’s hands in hers and examined her fingernails, but it was hard to tell if the debris under them was dirt, or blood, or a combination of both. Kayla was not a prissy little girl. She lived on a farm, spent hours and hours in the barn with her horse, and was usually downright filthy by the end of the day.
Bree looked up. “Todd? We need to, um . . .” She didn’t want to use the word scrape. “Clean under her nails.”
“I keep a kit in my car,” Todd said. Rural policing meant being more autonomous. It wasn’t always practical to call out a crime scene tech. Todd brought an evidence-collection kit from the back of his vehicle. He set Kayla on the hood of his car. “I’m going to clip your fingernails, OK?”
She nodded. “OK.”
Todd walked her through the process and collected the samples. Then Bree used sanitizing wipes to clean her niece’s hands. The thought of her harboring a predator’s biological material made Bree want to use bleach. But she realized the temptation was irrational, and she resisted.
Deputies Oscar and Collins arrived. Bree asked them to search the immediate area for clues while she questioned Kayla.
“Can you tell me everything that happened?” Bree asked.
“I was waiting with Emma. Her mom was getting us hot dogs. I stayed right with her. I promise.” Kayla’s eyes brimmed with tears.
Bree lifted her niece’s chin. “Kayla, you did everything right. This is not your fault, but I want to catch the man who did this.”
Kayla nodded and gave the same description of the man’s clothes as Emma: jeans and a red shirt. “He was pretending to be a clown, but he wasn’t a real one. They wear makeup, and he had a mask. He picked me up and ran away. I kicked him and yelled. Then he stuffed me in there.” Her small mouth toughened. “I screamed for a while. Then I heard Brody barking, and I knew it was OK.” She smiled, slid off the car hood, and knelt on the grass to hug the big dog again. Brody’s tail thumped.
Bree rested her hand on the shepherd’s head. Her eyes stung, and she blinked away a tear.
“Did you see the man’s hair?” Bree asked.
Kayla shook her head. “He was wearing a baseball hat. A black one.”
Bree added black baseball hat to the description. “What about his eyes? What color were they?”
Kayla shrugged. “I couldn’t see. I’m sorry.”
“You did great,” Bree said.
Todd asked, “Do you want to put out a BOLO?”
“Yes. Even if we don’t have enough of a description to identify him, I want neighboring jurisdictions to be aware that we had an attempted child abduction.”
Todd returned to his vehicle to issue the BOLO.
Bree’s mind began to settle. Was Kayla’s abduction a crime of opportunity? Did a predator simply see her and decide to grab her? Or had this been planned?
The thought of someone watching Kayla and waiting for an opportunity to kidnap her sent ice through Bree’s veins.
“Ma’am?” Oscar called from inside the building.
Bree hesitated. She didn’t want to leave Kayla’s side.
Still holding Brody’s leash, Cady stepped forward. “Brody and I will stay with her.”
Bree crouched. “Kayla, I’m going inside the building for a few minutes. You stay right here with Cady and Brody, OK?”
Kayla gave her a solemn nod, her eyes open wide, arm still slung around the dog’s neck. Cady was standing right behind the child, and Bree’s deputies were all around. But she had to force herself to walk away. She entered the building. Oscar was squatting next to the teddy bear. It was a small and cheaply made carnival prize.
“It probably came from one of the game stalls.” Wearing gloves, Oscar handed Bree a small envelope with a gold elastic band that ran through a hole in the corner. Her name was written in block print on the outside. “This was attached to the bear.”
Bree accepted the envelope, touching only the edges. The envelope flap wasn’t sealed, and she slid out the small card. More block print spelled out a message. Her hands shook as she read the card.
DON’T MAKE ME HURT YOU. LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE.
Though she knew he was dead, her mind automatically read the message in her father’s voice. She’d heard him say don’t make me hurt you over and over to her mother throughout her childhood. Whoever had kidnapped Kayla had known Bree’s father well enough to know that. Bree’s blood went ice cold. Goose bumps rose on her arms. She knew in her gut that the second half of the message was a reference to her father’s dogs. The abductor had also known that the grave site was near the dog yard.
Twenty-seven years after his death, her father still haunted her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Matt jogged across the parking lot toward the storage building. Two sheriff’s deputy vehicles blocked access to the area. He waved to the deputy controlling the scene and threaded his way between the cars. Bree had let him know that Kayla was safe, but Matt wanted to be with them.
Brody’s bark alerted Matt, and he spotted Kayla and his dog on the grass next to a deputy. Brody appeared calm, but Matt recognized the signs of heightened alertness. Brody’s ears were forward, his nose in the air, and his posture was far from relaxed. The leash trailed on the grass, but the dog didn’t leave the child’s side as Matt approached. Brody had put himself on guard duty.
Bree exited the storage building, holding two evidence bags. Their eyes met over a span of thirty feet, and it took effort for Matt to restrain himself. He wanted to hold her. Instead, he crouched and hugged Kayla.
“Brody rescued me,” she said in his ear, her voice a little shaky.
“He’s a very good boy.” Matt moved her at arm’s length. Her clothes and hair were disheveled, but he didn’t spot any bruises or other injuries. Her eyes were dry but red around the edges, and her face was puffy, as if she’d been crying. Anger filled Matt to the brim. “Are you OK?”
She nodded. “I was scared.”
“I would’ve been scared too,” Matt said.
“Really?”
“You bet.” He nodded. “Everyone gets scared sometimes. But you fought back anyway. That was brave.”
She sniffed, seeming to feel better.
“I’m going to talk to Aunt Bree for a minute, OK?” Matt asked.
“OK.” She plopped down on the grass next to Brody.
Matt scratched his dog behind the ear. “Thanks, buddy.”
Brody’s tail thumped on the grass twice.
Matt made sure Deputy Collins was focused on Kayla before he turned and walked across the grass to Bree.
“We’ll find him.” Bree’s words were measured and level, but underneath they hummed with fury. He saw the same cold resolve in her eyes that he felt deep in his own chest. She paced back and forth across the ground. Usually, Matt was the pacer, and Bree was the cool one. Clearly a threat to the kids went above and beyond her ability to keep calm.
Matt nodded once. “We will.”
“I’ve called Dana. She’s running a complete diagnostic on the security system.” Bree had a state-of-the-art alarm. She’d even wired the barn. “I don’t have a spare deputy to put a guard outside, but Dana will be there.” As a former cop, Dana was usually armed. “But I still don’t want to leave them. Kayla was already targeted. Luke is at risk too. But to find Kayla’s abductor, I have to investigate. I can’t do that from inside my house.” Bree shoved a hair off her forehead and pressed her palm to her scalp. Rage and vulnerability simultaneously filled her eyes. She looked like she wanted to lock Kayla in a bunker
but also tear someone to pieces.
“I can ask Nolan to help.” Matt pulled out his phone. “He has a concealed carry permit, and no one is better at hand to hand.”
“He’s better than you?”
Matt snorted. “He’s been beating the hell out of me since I was born. Sometimes, I think that’s why my parents had me.” He paused. “Seriously, Nolan used to do personal security work. Between him and Dana, the kids will be safe. Should I call him?”
Bree nodded. “Yes, and thank you.”
Matt stepped away to make the call. When Nolan answered, Matt explained what had happened.
Nolan’s answer was one sentence: “I’ll be at Bree’s place in an hour.”
Matt walked back to Bree. “He’s in. Do we have any evidence?”
“The descriptions both kids gave matched, but neither of them saw his face. We might have his DNA from under Kayla’s nails, and he left this note.” Bree held up one of the evidence bags and spit out some words. “A threat with a fucking carnival toy.”
Matt read it. “‘Don’t make me hurt you. Let sleeping dogs lie.’” A fresh burst of anger warmed him. “That does sound like a threat.”
“A very specific threat.” Bree’s eyes drifted to Kayla, then back to Matt. “I believe he’s referencing my father.” Her nostrils flared as she exhaled. “My father used to say don’t make me hurt you or you always make me hurt you to my mother right before he beat the hell out of her. I believe Let sleeping dogs lie refers to the grave in the dogs’ area of our property.”
Matt glanced at the note again. “Maybe we can get fingerprints from the note.”
“Maybe. But the connection is definitely to my father.”
“We have one suspect who knew him.”
“Curtis.” Bree blew a stray hair off her face. “We’ll get Kayla settled at home, then go see Curtis.”
“Is there anything else to do here?” Matt scanned the scene.
“No. I’ll have a deputy pull prints from the doorknob. We’ll try to get a match. If there was biological material under Kayla’s nails, then we could get a match in CODIS.” The Combined DNA Index System stored DNA profiles from crime scenes and offenders.
“That takes time.” First, the lab would have to determine whether the material even contained DNA. If it did, then samples had to be prepared. Backlogs were the rule, not the exception. This was not TV, and they would not have the answer before the next commercial.
Right Behind Her (Bree Taggert) Page 16