by Kait Nolan
He sounded tired and looked bone weary, likely from whatever cancer was eating away at him. For a fleeting instant, she thought about what he’d said to Judd, that he’d come back to make amends with her. And then she couldn’t think because the mob of reporters pressed closer, sucking up all the oxygen.
“You aren’t supposed to be anywhere near me.” She said it as much to the media as her father.
“Be reasonable, girl.” Jebediah reached out, trying to take her arm.
Autumn flinched back from the touch, her mind’s eye seeing a fist where there was none.
“Stay away from her!” Another, taller man in a hooded jacket was suddenly between her and her father, hands curled to fists.
Jebediah stepped back, lifting his palms in surrender.
Her rescuer turned, one hand shoving glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Are you okay?”
“I…” She didn’t know what she was. The crush of people was suffocating and the confrontation with her father had her vibrating with tension. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe.
Beneath the shaded bill of a baseball cap, Mark’s eyes softened a fraction in sympathy as he looked at her, then hardened again as he shouted at the gaggle of reporters. “Back off, all of you.” His voice rang with an authority she’d never heard from him before. It made him seem somehow bigger, more powerful than she’d always seen him. Autumn wondered if this was his lecture voice. In the face of it, the crowd did, indeed, back up a few paces.
Jebediah held his ground, watching with an inscrutable expression. But he said nothing more, made no move to approach her again.
Gently, Mark cupped a hand beneath her elbow. “Are you coming or going?”
“Going. Definitely going.”
“Okay then. Let’s get out of here.”
He led her toward the parking lot. None of the assembled reporters seemed willing to intervene. Thank God, for small favors.
“Where’s your car?”
“I don’t have it with me. Judd dropped me off at work this morning.”
“I’ll drive you. Where do you need to go?”
“Police station.” She needed to get to Judd.
“Okay.” Mark unlocked his older model Explorer and immediately started tossing piles of papers from the front seat to the back. “Excuse the mess. I don’t often have passengers.” He grabbed the camera bag and tossed it into the backseat.
“It’s no problem. I appreciate the rescue.” The words came out on autopilot. She looked back toward the building to see if Jebediah was there or if the reporters had followed. If they’d press her again, but so far, they’d held back. Hand on the door, she braced herself for the moment the seat was empty, then vaulted inside.
“You’ve got your hands full. I’ll just get the seatbelt.”
“I—oh, thanks.” As he leaned over her, she tried to work up some semblance of a smile. “I really appreciate the rescue.”
“No problem. We were both in the right place at the right time.”
At the sharp stab of pain in her arm, Autumn yelped. She looked down to see a hypodermic needle sticking through her sleeve. As the seatbelt clicked, her gaze snapped back up to Mark’s. “What the…?”
“Sorry about this, but you just weren’t cooperating.”
Judd rolled his shoulders, trying to release some tension before he walked into the conference room. This wasn’t the sort of performance review he was used to. Likely they wouldn’t be going over his cases, his close rate. He hadn’t even been in the job long enough for there to be a follow through conviction rate based on his investigations. Because investigations were no longer a primary focus of his job. Not directly.
Mayor Sandra Crawford sat at the head of the table, flanked on either side by the five City Council members and her personal assistant, Avery. They’d been in much the same configuration when he’d been brought in two weeks ago to take the job. His shoulders tightened up again because they looked every bit as grave now. This didn’t look good.
Understanding his role in all of this, Judd sat in the remaining chair at the opposite end of the table from Sandra, facing both her and the Council.
“Chief Hamilton, thank you for joining us,” Sandra began.
The radio at his shoulder crackled. With one ear, he listened to the call from dispatch about the fender bender on Lawson Street, heard Nash take it.
“Could you turn that off, please?” Sandra asked.
That was tantamount to being blind to what was going on in his town. Judd didn’t like it. But conscious of the need to play nice here, he hit the call button on the handset at his shoulder and hailed his dispatcher. “Inez, I’m going radio silent. If anybody needs me, I’m at City Hall for a meeting.”
“Got it, Chief.”
Judd switched the radio off and immediately felt the weight of silence descend on the room.
“Thank you. Let’s get started.”
They began with the budget. Again.
“It’s been an expensive few weeks,” Hank van Buren observed. “Totaled cruiser, training courses, the cost of bringing on reserve officers while most of the department was attending the training. And I see here another equipment request?”
“First, what you have in your hands is an inventory of the department’s equipment, outlining the condition of our resources and making recommendations about the extent and order of replacement as the budget allows in the future.” It had been a project he’d assigned to the rookie since Raines was riding the desk with his injuries. “It’s for information purposes. Second, the training for my officers was long overdue. We are, thankfully, generally a sleepy town, but that’s no excuse for ignorance of current investigative techniques. We hope they aren’t called into practice, but in the event that they are, we ought to be prepared to do the job to the best of our abilities. And third, I had no way of knowing Officer Raines would panic when faced with a cow in the road. The loss of the cruiser is unfortunate, as are his injuries, since it leaves us short-staffed on patrol duties, but it is what it is.”
“When you were appointed to this position, you were informed that the position was probationary, pending review of your performance.” Connie Lockwood folded her hands. “How do you feel that performance has been?”
For fuck’s sake, really?
“I have never given this department anything but my all, as I believe my record indicates.”
“What about the execution of your duties as pertains to Jebediah Buchanan?” Ed Falk asked.
Judd fought to keep his hands from clenching on the table. “My duty pertaining to Jebediah Buchanan, or any convicted felon released back into our community, is to make certain they cause no harm or disruption to the community, most especially the victims impacted by that release.”
“A noble intention, but surely you’re somewhat biased in this particular case,” Hank suggested.
“Bias has nothing to do with the facts.”
“Doesn’t it? Does it really justify round-the-clock guard of one person, when the department is, as you’ve already indicated, short-staffed?”
“Mr. Van Buren, if someone tried to murder your wife and was then released from prison, coincidentally the same day your house burned to the ground, I assure you, I’d be arranging a round-the-clock guard for her as well.”
“But you haven’t managed to tie Jebediah Buchanan to the fire,” Grace Handeford said.
“The investigation is ongoing and not a matter of public record. There’s been a documented string of harassment aimed at Autumn since Jebediah’s release. And in case you missed it, the fire also burned the home of another Wishful resident. There’s no way of knowing how escalation could affect others in town, so my use of departmental resources is not just for Autumn.”
“How many officers are assigned to Miss Buchanan today?” Hank asked.
“None.”
“Not even with all the reporters roaming town?”
Reporters? How the hell had he not known the press was here? No
t wanting to be caught unaware of what was going on in his town he skated the edge of a lie. “Against my better judgment, no. While the press is a definite nuisance, they generally do not justify protective custody.”
Hank scribbled something on his legal pad.
In Judd’s pocket, his phone vibrated. Autumn letting him know about the reporters? Were they bothering her at the library? He itched to check but knew better than to pull the phone out in the middle of all this.
“What about the reason they’re in town to begin with?” Connie asked. “These books she wrote.” Her tone dripped with contempt.
Judd was willing to bet she was one of the offended pearl clutchers Autumn talked about. “That has no bearing on today’s proceedings.”
“No?” She feigned surprise. “The public is making some interesting assumptions about you based on what she wrote.”
Oh, for the love of… Judd knew his tone had chilled to arctic. “Fiction has no bearing on my ability to do my job.”
“I’m afraid I disagree. It impacts how the public perceives you, and this position is one that demands respect.”
Judd ground his teeth. “With all due respect, ma’am, that’s ludicrous. My record with this department stands. My actions, both as an officer and as Chief of Police, have been exemplary.” He’d stand by that statement with his hand on a stack of Bibles.
Sandra held up a hand. “Okay, I think we’re veering a little off topic here.”
“Respectfully, madam Mayor, what is the topic? Why am I here? Are you actually dissatisfied with the performance of my duties?”
“We simply have concerns,” she said easily. “Chief Curry had reservations about our putting you in this position. We’re merely exploring those. We have continued with the nationwide search and have two other candidates for the permanent position. The first was interviewed last week and the second should be arriving any minute now.”
That was news to Judd. But he’d been far too occupied with the actual execution of the job to concern himself much with the politics.
“We’re just gathering information in order to make a final decision in short order,” Ed added.
So his tenure as Chief might be drawing to a close? Judd couldn’t deny the sense of relief he felt at that. He didn’t want the job anymore, not beyond closing out this case, seeing Autumn safe. But he couldn’t have his authority ripped away just yet.
Cam, the youngest Councilman and Sandra’s son, finally spoke. “You’ve got to admit, things have been rather personal the last few weeks.”
“We live in a town of five thousand people. There’s no such thing as doing the job here without getting personal. Getting personal is half of what allows me to do the job well. It’s what allows you to do your jobs. People and their connection to each other are a huge part of what makes Wishful what it is. That’s exactly what your wife-to-be is always preaching.”
“We’re just concerned that being so personally involved limits your objectivity,” Grace said.
“Have there been complaints about my performance?” Judd demanded. “Documentation that I have somehow shirked my duties?” He knew his tone had slid past respect and well into belligerence, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. He had zero tolerance for anyone questioning his integrity.
“We’re just trying to—”
The door flew open, effectively cutting Sandra off. Judd automatically surged to his feet as Nash burst into the room.
“Couldn’t get you on the phone.”
“What’s going on?”
“Someone took Autumn.”
Judd’s blood turned to ice, the sharp shards of it stabbing through his whole body. “Talk and talk fast.”
“I went by the library after my last call, just to check on her. I saw the protesters and the press. Livia said she left over an hour ago, planning to go straight to the station. But she never got there. I talked to the reporters. They said she had a confrontation with her father, then left with another man.”
Hanging on to the last bit of his control, Judd managed, “Who?”
“We don’t know yet. There’s video footage of the confrontation, but he was careful. Hood up. Nobody caught his face.”
There was something else. Judd could see it in the tense line of his jaw. “What else?”
“We have a witness who claims the guy injected her with something before he drove off.”
The strength went out of Judd’s legs, almost dropping him to his knees.
I shouldn’t have let her go to work on her own. I shouldn’t have taken her protective detail off. A dozen other recriminations rang in his head. But they didn’t matter. Only action mattered. Because the son of a bitch had taken her.
Rage burned through the paralyzing ice.
Turning back to the City Council he said, “The personal’s interfering with my objectivity, huh?”
A few of them had the grace to look abashed.
“I’m done here. You do whatever the fuck you need to do about the job. I don’t care anymore. Because I will go to hell itself to bring her back, with or without the badge.”
He stalked out with barely a glance at the cool-eyed stranger in the hall. Autumn was in danger and the clock was ticking on finding her alive.
“Where’s the witness now?”
“At the station.” Nash hurried to keep up as Judd all but bolted down the stairs. “There’s one more thing you should know.”
“What?”
“The witness is Jebediah Buchanan.”
Chapter 17
Autumn woke slow and queasy, a situation not at all helped by the full rumble in her head or the general rocking of the bed. She tried to moan at Boudreaux to settle down already, that it wasn’t time to play, especially not with this hangover she’d been utterly unprepared for, but all she managed was a faint wheeze of sound. Her limbs felt heavy and stiff, like she’d fallen asleep in some awkward position. What the hell had happened?
There’d been that awful reading at the senior center and all the invasive questions about her love life. That had merited all the wine. But…no, she’d eaten. She’d had fluids. That was…yesterday?
Something splashed on her face and began to cool in the breeze.
Breeze?
Fighting through the cotton of her brain, Autumn forced her eyes open to slits. At first they refused to focus, too glued together by the remnants of the night to open all the way. It was daylight, and she was…where the hell was she? Outside. A brilliant blue sky stretched out above, and she could feel the heat of the sun beating down on her fair skin. The rocking wasn’t Boudreaux turning infinite circles to get comfy on the bed. It was a boat. She was in a boat.
What the hell?
She struggled to sit up but found she couldn’t move properly, so she applied all her concentration to getting her eyes the rest of the way open.
She was slumped on the floor of an aluminum boat, toward the bow. A man perched on the seat at the stern, steering the outboard motor. Not Judd. A cap covered his head and sunglasses obscured part of his face. He wore a dark hoodie. Why was he wearing a hoodie when it was still hot out?
Gradually memory filtered in. The library. Getting fired. The protesters. The crush of reporters. Her father.
She must’ve made some noise because the driver looked toward her.
“Oh good, you’re awake. I was getting a little worried. I estimated what you weigh, so I had to guess at the dosage. I think I went over a little.”
Dosage? Her throat was dry as the Sahara as she rasped, “Mark?”
“We’re well away from the reporters and your father, in case you were worried. I’m just sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I never intended that Jebediah should have the chance to lay a hand on you.” His mouth pressed into a grim line.
What kind of alternate reality had she fallen into? Had she hit her head? Was she dreaming?
The pinch and prickle in her hands and feet as she attempted to wiggle them proved she was very much awake.
So what the hell was she doing here with Mark Caulfield?
“What…? I don’t…understand.”
“That, sadly, has been abundantly clear. I tried to be subtle. Really, I did. Everything I’ve done was to show you that I know you, Autumn. I see who you really are. But none of the subtlety worked to properly get your attention, so I’m taking you to the compound. Or what’s left of it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, you don’t have to play coy with me. I figured it out, you see. I figured all of it out. It was fate, really. I don’t normally research anything so recent as what happened to you, but I stumbled across a news article from back then and I saw your picture. You were so lovely. Fresh faced with those haunted eyes. And that was no comparison to what you’ve grown into.” The look of profound adoration made her skin crawl.
Somewhere beneath the smothering sensation of whatever drug he’d shot her up with, panic was trying to work its way to the surface. She used that energy to continue flexing and rolling her limbs. He hadn’t bound her.
“So I dug deeper, did more research. I pulled everything I could find on your case, the trial. And I decided to come to Wishful to meet you. But I didn’t want to seem like some creeper. You needed the chance to get to know me first. And I tell you, Autumn, the more I saw you, the more I fell. You are…simply amazing.”
Two years. He’d been trying to get to know her for two years. Had been researching her for two years. Like she was some kind of…what? Dissertation topic?
The boat beneath her continued to bounce as he cut across low waves. They had to be on Hope Springs. There was no other body of water close by. But where the hell was he taking her? And what were his plans when they got there? It was an enormous lake. What were the chances they were anywhere near Judd’s place?
Judd.
Did he know she’d been taken? Was he looking for her yet?
“But the real kicker was the day I stumbled on your laptop.”
“My…laptop?”
“It was a pretty slow day at the library, and I guess you’d brought it with you to write during downtime. You’d gone to help somebody in the stacks and left your screen up. I couldn’t help looking. I was curious. And I found your book. It pulled me in from the first word, that personal account of what you’d been through. I don’t blame you for putting it out under a pen name or taking a few liberties here or there. It was a powerful story, one I felt privileged to share, to have gotten an inside track on. And I knew the fact that it was right there waiting for me was a sign.”