As his body tightened with the imagery that idea produced, Clay stiffened and pulled himself closer to the desk. He wouldn't be standing up in front of her anytime soon. His voice was probably gruffer than it should've been. "So what did you learn?"
Bailey waved the green files in her hand slightly.
"Kevin found me more missing persons cases from twenty-five to thirty or so years ago. Ones that were removed from the databases by Peter Holte back then.” Supposition was because the TSP officers involved in the cases had been corrupt. So many cases would have to be audited, some would be thrown out. Others hopefully retried. It was a horrible thought—and it was just starting, from what she’d heard. “He had Detective Erickson get them for him. And we went to each of the most likely abduction sites in Finley Creek. All were within sight and easy walking distance of the hospital. Same as the one in Garrity. I don’t know if that means anything but it’s a new angle. I’ll need to go to three dump sites tomorrow. There was one that might not be connected, but the chief included it anyway. Just in case.”
Clay nodded. He’d recognized the particular green folders for what they were. Highest security clearances only. He was shocked Marshall had let Bailey see them at all. In Clay’s entire career with the TSP, he’d only seen maybe half a dozen files just like that.
The other man trusted her a great deal, apparently.
“They’re confidential files, Clay. For yours and my eyes only. Straight from the chief.”
"Let’s move them out of here, then.” Clay grabbed the files she’d placed on his desk and put them back in the box. “We’ll take them back to Bert’s. We’ll work on them there.”
“You think that’s a good idea? I trust Bert, but if anything in there leads to an arrest—”
“No one will care where we worked on the files. It’ll just be between the two of us. And it’s time we got out of here tonight, anyway.” They’d been on the clock for fourteen hours now. It was time she headed home. “I’ll drive you tonight. We can discuss what you learned from Kevin on the way. Then I’ll pick you up in the morning and we’ll drive to Finley Creek and check out the dump sites.”
They were silent as they started down the road. He didn’t want to take her back to Bert’s and just dump her there. Not yet. They needed to talk and he wanted to spend some time with her. Period. They hadn't gotten even a block when he suddenly turned the car toward the diner. "Pie."
"Excuse me?"
"The diner will be closing soon, and they always keep me a slice of pie back. Couple of them actually. It’s been hours since I had dinner. Let's go." He didn't exactly wait for her to give an answer. He just knew he wasn’t ready to take her back to Bert’s and Jake’s. He needed her to himself for a while.
***
Bailey walked silently at his side. Clay held the door for her, and had his hand at her waist as they walked in. He’d probably never done that with any of the other deputies. But then again, he’d probably never professed attraction for Jeremy or Jeff, either.
Gail, the waitress and part owner of the diner, smiled welcomingly at Clay when she saw him. The smile froze when she saw how close he walked to Bailey. She’d never been overly friendly with Bailey before. Now she was almost frosty.
Bailey got it then.
The reason why there was always a piece of pie for the sheriff was very clear. Gail wanted to give him more than pie.
Bailey studied Clay's mannerisms while they got settled in the booth. He didn't even seem aware of the other woman's interest. Bailey waited until he was seated to leaned forward. "I think Gail is upset by me being here with you tonight. Even in uniform."
"Gail and I dated briefly in high school, but there was nothing serious. Certainly nothing now."
Bailey leaned even closer. Clay echoed the movement until they were practically within kissing range. Bailey shot him a smile. The guy was clueless. It was oddly cute, in a way. "I don't think Gail is aware of that."
"She's going to have to be." Clay covered Bailey's hand with his, almost as if he wasn’t aware that he was doing it.
Bailey fought the urge to pull her hand back as if he'd scorched her; instead she pulled her hand back but did so slowly. They may have been the only ones in the diner at the time besides Gail, but they were still on the clock. She was still in her TSP uniform. Clay had changed somewhere along the way into an FCU baseball jersey and worn jeans. He looked hot and rugged and just about perfect, and Bailey had no doubt that Gail knew it.
But Clay obviously didn't have a clue. He barely looked at Gail when she brought two pieces of become by and set it down before them along with a cup of coffee for Clay. She shot a look at Bailey.
"What'll it be, Deputy Moore?” Cool and almost unwelcoming. Talk about bad customer service.
There was surprise in Clay's eyes now. She knew he hadn't missed the frosty reception. She ordered a glass of milk and her own dessert. Gail almost huffed as she walked away.
Clay leaned back in his seat. “Sorry.”
"You have to be aware of how the women in this town view you.” She'd never teased Clay before. But it was surprisingly easy to do. Was that a blush on his cheeks? She thought it was.
Bailey found herself oddly charmed by the idea that Clayton Addy had no clue just how attractive he really was. It revealed a different side of him than she’d have expected.
“How is that?”
“Seriously? You’re a good-looking man. You and Jake both. There aren’t exactly a whole lot of good-looking, successful, single men just walking around Value.” And Gail—Clay’s age, divorced with two kids and probably a mountain of bills—would be drawn to a steady, stable, available man like Clay.
Jake had women stop by the library and flirt with him frequently. And even some of his students made a point of emailing and seeking him out. It had exasperated him on several occasions. There had been two social functions at the college in Finley Creek that Bailey had accompanied him to—to protect him. He’d said she had to do guard duty. She owed him.
She hadn’t minded; she’d enjoyed seeing Jake in his natural habitat. But Jake had a calm, easy way with women that Clay just did not have. She’d never noticed it before.
“There’s Kurtland Chase.” Clay sent her a significant look.”
She wasn’t about to take the bait. “Yes, there is.”
Bailey sat back in her seat, as Gail brought the pie and drinks. “Thanks, Gail. Clay’s told me how much he likes your pie.”
Bailey didn’t know why she’d said it, but it had slipped out anyway. Something about the way the woman had practically slammed Bailey’s down in front of her.
The woman muttered something in response, smiled at Clay, and then hustled away when the door opened with new customers. Bailey put more space between herself and Clay.
When in uniform, people tended to look at them. She wasn’t going to do anything to make more gossip. Not for either of them.
Maybe it was best she was leaving the Value TSP as soon as she could. Even if something did develop, deepen between them, that would cause a whole new set of problems they’d have to address. Problems on the job that she didn’t even want to contemplate yet.
She’d face them gladly. If she loved him. If she loved a man the way Kyra loved Cam, there wasn’t anything Bailey wouldn’t do for that man.
If she was honest with herself, Bailey didn’t know exactly what she felt for Clay. Confusion, attraction, frustration, compassion—they were all there. Mixed with lust and fire, too. It was hard to miss that. The few times they’d kissed had made that abundantly clear.
They said little else as they ate the pie.
“So what do we do now?” She wasn’t asking about the case, but she just hoped Clay didn’t know that.
“Go over it all from the beginning. Again.”
Chapter 81
Lou had to stop Clay Addy from messing everything up for Bailey. He had to. And Lou was running out of time.
It was just a matter of
time before Glen turned Lou in—then went after Bailey. Glen had said as much again. Boethe Street was a small microcosm of hell and always had been. Back when he’d first joined the TSP he’d hated the shithole he now inhabited. Every vice known to man ran this part of Finley Creek. And probably always had.
Now Lou used that to his advantage. But so did vicious sociopaths like Glen Washington. And their paths kept crossing. Lou recognized far too many of those assholes he’d shared prison air without here on Boethe Street.
Lou hadn’t been the only one to see Bailey on the street today. And when Glen had come up to Lou in the diner and took the chair across from him, it had been all Lou could do to keep from killing him right there. Lou could have done it, too. And kept Glen from hurting anyone else’s daughters ever again.
But like the coward he was, Lou had stayed quiet, not wanting to draw attention to himself. And listened while Glen detailed everything he would do to Bailey when he caught her.
Not if. But when...
Lou broke out a sweat again. He had to make certain Bailey got what she needed. And made certain she was safe from Glen.
He just didn’t know what to do first—take care of Addy or take care of Glen.
Lou looked at the package on the seat next to him. It was bloody and gruesome. He had to get rid of it. If he was stopped by the cops even his fake ID wouldn’t get him out of trouble if that package was discovered.
He headed toward Bracker’s Mill Road. He’d grown up out there. Had wanted Bailey to as well. At least in his mind he had.
In reality, Lou knew the truth. He hadn’t given his daughter much thought at all back then. Just been annoyed by the time and money a kid had required. He hadn’t been a very good father to her at all.
Bailey had been so small. Dainty, her mother had used to call her. Something that had baffled both of them. Both Lou and Kimberly had been well-built people. But Bailey...she had been so small. He hadn’t known what to do with a girl.
So he’d left her to Kimberly. And he hadn’t known who Bailey was becoming. How many nights had he lain awake in his cell and regretted that? Wished he had been a better man? Far too many.
He parked his Chrysler near the small turnoff that led down to the relic that was once Bracker’s Mill. He used to play in the area here. He dumped the fingers Glen had sent him to prove what he was going to do to Bailey—Lou almost puked when he thought about—down an abandoned well on the back of an old property connected to the Mill. He followed the creek back down to where he’d parked.
The water was rising. No doubt Bracker’s Mill was going to flood again.
Anyone foolish enough to be out here could be in for some serious trouble. He’d seen bodies washed right out of trucks in Bracker’s Mill Road when the water was rising like this.
Too bad Clay Addy couldn’t wash away just like that.
Lou got back into his Chrysler and took a deep breath. He’d have to get rid of the sheriff.
For Bailey’s sake.
Then he’d decide what to do with Glen Washington.
Chapter 82
Celia would never like storms like this. Or driving at night. Fortunately, she and Cameron rented a home from her brother-in-law Lamar that was pretty close to the center of the town. She’d have to drive over to Ronnie’s to pick her son up, but they could be home in fifteen minutes.
She was careful as she locked up the clinic, conscious that she was the only one there. And that it was almost ten at night. The parking lot and the road—almost the entire town—seemed completely deserted.
Thunder cracked.
Celia shivered.
Just as a van pulled in to the parking lot next to her.
Celia’s heart jumped into her throat.
Until she saw the handicapped placard in the front window and recognized the man at the wheel.
Jake pulled up right next to her. Celia forced herself to breathe deeply. He rolled down the window. “Hi, honey, you’re out late tonight.”
“I’m filling in for Claudia tonight. She’s ill. Normally I’m out of here by eight. When there are people around.” The rain was starting up heavier again. She pulled the hood of her rain jacket up higher.
He grinned at her. “You want a ride? This thing is my own version of the Batmobile.”
“What are you doing out here this late?”
“Historical society emergency meeting. They’re talking about a historical marker on Becca’s Ridge. But we need to find more information about it.”
“I’m not familiar with the story.” Lightning flashed. Celia gave an undignified squeak.
“Hop in, honey. I’ll give you a ride home.”
“I need to pick up Cam. He’s at Ronnie’s.”
“I’ll take you. I’ll be back in town by eight in the morning. I can pick you up and bring you back to your car.”
She wanted to say yes. But she also needed to stand on her own two feet. “I—”
“Ok. You don’t trust me. I’m a very scary man, after all. But at least let me follow you home. I’ll feel better, knowing you are locked up nice and tight. With what’s happened in town, just...humor me.”
She nodded.
She hadn’t even thought about that. “Thank you.”
He followed her to her sister’s and waited patiently while she collected Cam. And then he followed her home.
Once they were in her drive, Celia shocked herself by asking him to come in for just a little while.
“I’d like that very much. Especially if you have cookies.”
He used his crutches and walked right up her walkway and into her home while she carried her son.
Just as she was about to close the door, a truck passed beneath the nearest streetlight.
A red Ford truck, exactly like the one she’d seen before.
Celia shivered.
She was very glad she wasn’t alone tonight.
Chapter 83
She was looking at him differently. Clay could see it in her eyes. He didn’t like the space she’d put between them at the table. For some perverse reason, he wanted the world to know that he was there—with her. He wanted to be able to put his hands on her whenever he wanted, like his cousin did with Mel. Screw the uniform, and the waitress, and anyone driving by.
Clay wanted to be with Bailey. Primitive, but true.
Family legend had it that when a Barratt man found the woman he could love, he became a total idiot over her. And would be until the day he died. He hadn’t believed it before.
But he had no doubt he’d be an idiot over this woman until the day he died.
He just happened to live in a time when carrying his woman off wasn’t exactly something a man did. Not a smart man, anyway.
Houghton excluded, of course.
Whether anything eventually came out of how he felt, it wouldn’t change the truth. Like the Barratts who had come before—he wanted his woman.
Clay would give anything to just scoop her up and take her to Houghton’s place in Mexico for a week—or two. They’d figure out what to do together once they were down there.
"Sheriff," the dispatcher's voice came over the radio. "Hate to disturb you and Bailey right now but we've got a call about Bracker’s Mill Road. Already flooding over. Best to get over there, get things taken care of. You taking Bailey with you?"
Clay bit back the curse and grabbed the radio. He’d have to get the roadblocks up before someone drove over the bridge. The county really needed to close that bridge permanently. "Dispatch. We’ll head that way now."
He turned to the woman next to him. "Looks like you're going to be banking some comp time tonight. You ok with that?" She nodded as he tossed a ten and a five on the table to cover the desserts.
“Let’s go. Before someone does something they shouldn’t at Bracker’s Mill Road.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Chapter 84
Anticipation tightened Lou’s gut. In just a few moments, he was going to make c
ertain that Bailey got who she needed. Damn that Addy for even thinking of screwing it up for her.
Lou was only doing what a good father would do. He was preparing her for the rest of her life. Setting her up with a man who would actually take care of her. He loved the idea of her with Jake Dillon and that little baby. Loved knowing she’d have people to love her when Lou couldn’t.
And Bert—Bert would watch over her. No matter how conflicted Lou felt about the other man, Bert would take care of Bailey the way a good father-in-law would.
Lou liked to think he would have been a good father-in-law, if circumstances had played out differently than they had. He and the librarian could have talked about something they had in common, even if that was just Bailey and Lou’s grandkids.
The tools that had been in the back of the Chrysler he’d purchased with the five hundred dollars he’d borrowed from Charlie a while back had come in handy tonight.
It was the first time he’d been able to use them.
He saw the headlights of the approaching vehicle. It had to be Addy. It would be the sheriff’s job—or the chief deputy’s—to block off the road out here. Lou knew that probably hadn’t changed much in the years since his arrest. And Clay Addy was always patrolling this late at night. It was a part of the younger man’s routine.
The Tahoe turned down the small entrance. Lou had hidden the van well. He didn’t think Addy would see him. And if he did?
Well, so what?
Addy would be dead sometime soon.
It wasn’t the most efficient way to kill someone, but he needed it to look like an accident. He’d spent the last two hours with a damned saw to make certain it looked like an accident. The river would do the rest. A passing moment of remorse hit him, but Lou shoved it away.
It was for Bailey. It had always been for Bailey.
Lou waited until Addy had passed by, then parked. He watched with his binoculars as two shadows got out of the Tahoe. Lou’s heart rate tripled.
Holding the Truth Page 22
