Down the Darkest Road

by Kylie Brant

  Cady thought for a moment. “Shortly after his release here, he ended up in Hope Mills, where he was linked to a drug operation. Any chance that’s the hold he had on Fielding?”

  “She’s never failed a drug test,” the sheriff replied.

  “Does she have older kids? Husband? Other family?” Ryder asked.

  “Two daughters. Twelve and six. Suzanne’s divorced. Has been for a few years now. Her folks live in town. Her brother used to as well. He moved to Weaverville several years ago. Works in the IT department for a business there.” Noting Cady’s heightened interest, the sheriff nodded. “It would have taken expertise to get by the firewall to access those files. We got a warrant for her cell phone. She refused to give us the password, but Kathy, our IT gal, cracked it.” He half turned to reach for a phone on the table behind him. Set it on the desk. “Call log was deleted. Wouldn’t take the crime lab long to retrieve it, but who knows when they’ll get to it. She’s not going to admit to having had contact with a felon.”

  Cady eyed the cell. Since it might be a link to Forrester, the Greensboro lab would expedite the cyber forensics. “Maybe I can offer some context for further questioning,” she said grimly. “Let me brief you on the events of the morning.”

  Two hours later, Ryder and Cady were seated next door to the interview room, watching the proceedings on CCTV. Crawley was speaking. “Thank you for agreeing to come in again today, Ms. Fielding.” He nodded to the woman beside her. “Ms. Stanton.” He didn’t indicate the reason for the other woman’s presence, so Cady assumed she was Fielding’s attorney. “I just wanted to update you both on where we are in our investigation.”

  “As long as you realize there is no new information to be had here. My client has been as forthcoming as possible in our previous meetings.”

  Crawley asked, “Ms. Fielding, can you tell us where your brother is?”

  The woman looked shocked. “Tim? Why? He has nothing to do with this.”

  “You don’t know where he is?”

  “I . . .” She looked at her lawyer. “He’s in Vegas, I think. At an IT convention.”

  “How does he know Bruce Forrester?”

  Suzanne’s chair scraped as she half rose from it. “That’s crazy. What does Forrester have to do with any of this?”

  “We obtained a warrant for your cell phone.” At the sheriff’s words, the blood drained from the woman’s face, and she slowly sank back into her seat. “You deleted the call log. Figure you might have a reason for doing so. Doesn’t mean it can’t be recovered, of course. Folks in the state crime lab are pretty good with that sort of thing. You can make us wait however long it takes for the cyber forensics folks to tell us what you don’t want us to know about your phone. In the meantime, you got no pay coming in. No way to take care of your kids. And attorney fees on top of that. So how ’bout you just tell us now if the lab is going to find a call to or from Bruce Forrester on your cell.”

  “Who is this Forrester you’re referring to?” Stanton asked. “You understand it’s not my client’s primary concern to save your office time and resources.”

  “Bruce Forrester is a fugitive, ma’am. He has outstanding warrants for kidnapping and drug charges. And he’s wanted for questioning in three homicides.” Crawley let the silence stretch before adding, “He was also the inmate your client broke protocol for seven years ago or so. My question to Suzanne is, did you contact Forrester with information on Deputy US Marshal Cady Maddix?”

  “I need to confer with my client. Please show us to a secure room.” At Stanton’s demand, Crawley got up and rounded the table, and the CCTV feed went fuzzy.

  Cady pushed back from the table. Rose to pace the small area. “Why else would she be interested in my number and the Forrester files if she didn’t have some connection to him?”

  “Exactly.” Ryder’s tone was hard. “Given her employment, she likely knows the marshals serving this area of the state are located in Asheville. It would only take someone armed with your description to surveil the courthouse and follow you home. Or . . . it was Sunday when you went to the jail. Her brother wouldn’t have been working. She could have had him trail you.”

  Insulted, she snapped, “Like I wouldn’t notice a tail.”

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just throwing out one possibility.”

  She thought again of Larry Loomer. The guy was clearly a loose cannon with an alarming knowledge base. But even if it were plausible that he’d lied about his eyesight and had the will and concern for his nephew to follow them, he’d been tied up with the Cumberland County deputies until well after they’d left.

  The TV flickered to life again. Stanton was speaking.

  “. . . client has been under great duress, fearful for the lives of her loved ones. That factor has caused her to go to unnatural lengths, to take actions she’d normally never dream of, all in the interest of keeping her family alive.”

  “Tell us, Suzanne.” Crawley’s expression was sympathetic. “Have you been aiding Bruce Forrester?”

  “I . . .” The woman swiped at her eyes. “It’s Tim. He got in trouble years back. Drugs. He owed a lot of money to Forrester and then couldn’t pay it. Forrester threatened to kill me. Kill my kids unless he got the cash. I tried to help, but I just get by on my paycheck. My ex doesn’t work. I sold some furniture . . . I didn’t know what else to do. If word got out about Tim’s drug problem, he’d lose his job. Maybe even go to jail.” Her voice hitched.

  Cady’s mouth flattened. It was the same scenario with monsters everywhere. Exploit the vulnerable. Threaten their loved ones. And too often, fear kept the innocent from going to the police.

  “Then one day, Forrester calls and says I can work off the debt by giving him information when he wants it. Doing him favors.”

  The mask of sympathy had vanished from Crawley’s face. “What type of favors?”

  Fielding looked down at the table. “Alerting him to dispatch calls that might concern him. I don’t know what he was doing, what he was involved in,” she added quickly. “When he was arrested that time and wanted to be moved in with Byrd, it was really only the second or third time I’d spoken to him.”

  “And how often have you talked to him since?” The sheriff asked the same question Cady was wondering.

  “I’m not sure. A half dozen or so. All after that deal in Hope Mills.”

  “Did you always contact him, or did he call you?”

  She took a deep, shuddering breath, and her attorney placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “He’d reach out wanting updates on anything that came through the office concerning him. If I didn’t report back, he’d call again, making threats. I lived in constant fear. When Maddix came Sunday, I . . . I thought maybe I could wipe out my brother’s debt for good. Maybe we’d be safe at last.”

  “Didn’t give a thought to your safety, did she?” muttered Ryder.

  “You made the contact?” Crawley asked. The woman nodded miserably. “When did you delete the call information?”

  She moistened her lips. “After you talked to me the first time.”

  “What information did you pass to Forrester regarding Marshal Maddix?”

  “Just that a federal marshal was asking about him. I gave him her name and phone number, that’s all! I swear! And it was probably a work phone anyway, right? I . . . I might have said she’d probably be out of the office in Asheville.”

  “It’s like I’m a fortune-teller,” Ryder said smugly. Cady elbowed him.

  “Did you tell him about the kidnapping warrant out on him?”

  Suzanne shook her head at the sheriff’s question. “No. Just about the marshal, I swear.”

  “Clearly the circumstances of these communications were extenuating,” Stanton put in. “My client fears for her family’s life, now even more so. If Forrester learns she’s been found out . . .”

  “Maybe we make sure he doesn’t discover that,” Cady murmured. She straightened. “It shouldn’t ta
ke the lab long to get the number she dialed.” And with the number, they almost certainly could get a general location for Forrester. Adrenaline sprinted through her veins at the thought.

  “Do you think he’s in this area?”

  She considered Ryder’s question for a moment before shrugging. “He wouldn’t have to be, since he has eyes here. He snatched Zook from Bryson City.” That was an hour and a half from Marshall. Something was keeping Forrester in the state when it would be far safer for him to move away. Cady wondered again if that something was Dylan Castle. She returned her attention to the screen.

  “Do you have any idea where Bruce Forrester is?” Crawley asked.

  “No.”

  “Has he ever mentioned a place he’s been?”

  “No. We didn’t have conversations like that.”

  “Did you ever hear anything in the background while speaking with him that would give an idea of who he was with or where he was?” Fielding was shaking her head. “I need an answer for the record.”

  “No. I never heard anything like that.”

  “Just a moment.” Crawley pushed away from the table and left the room. A moment later, the door to their space opened. “Marshal. Do you want to talk to her?”

  “I do.” Cady followed the sheriff into the other room. Noted the emotions flickering across the woman’s face. Shock. Fear. Shame.

  “This is Deputy US Marshal Cady Maddix. She has a couple of questions for your client.” Crawley said to Stanton as he sat back down.

  Cady remained standing. “How many times have you seen Forrester face-to-face?”

  “I . . . Just the once, I guess.” Fielding looked down at her clasped hands. “When he was jailed here.”

  “When you contacted him, did he always answer right away?”

  The woman looked perplexed, then thought for a moment. “He did this time. Sometimes, though, he didn’t call back until the next day.”

  “Describe how he speaks to you. Does he repeat certain phrases? Are the threats always the same?” Knowing how he spoke to the woman might give Cady more insight into the way the man’s mind worked. Were the threats sexual in nature? Directed at the children?

  “Mostly he starts on what he’ll do to my brother. I mean, Tim makes good money in his job now and could pay Forrester what he owes him. But Forrester keeps tacking on interest, so it’s like no matter how much we offer, it’s never enough. Then he starts asking about the girls.”

  A trickle of revulsion snaked down Cady’s spine. Her mind flew to her conversation with Byrd. “Any one in particular?”

  She shook her head. “Both. He starts saying . . . sick stuff.”

  “Sexual?”

  “I . . . No. Like describing how he’d kill them. Horrific things. He always talks about how their lives are in my hands. I’m to blame if something happens to . . .” She broke down then, her words difficult to make out.

  Violence. Revenge. Control. They were recurring themes in what she’d learned about Forrester. Cady didn’t know yet exactly what the man was into.

  But she knew more than she had this morning. And Fielding’s phone might lead them right to wherever Forrester was hiding.

  Chapter 27

  When Ryder returned from putting Cady’s things in one of his spare bedrooms, she was standing in the family room looking as lost as he’d ever seen her. She was familiar with his house—she’d stayed with him before, although they usually spent the night at her place. But things were out of her control right now, and he knew exactly what that was costing her.

  He realized he owed her some answers about the files he’d found in his dad’s garage but couldn’t think of a worse time to broach the subject. It’d keep. He still didn’t know what it meant, those files not being in the system. He could follow that thread on his own for a while longer.

  Because he knew how much she’d hate it, he kept his concern for her to himself. “Lucky we stopped by the vet before heading to Madison County.”

  Mention of Hero, even indirectly, was enough to bring her around. “It was good to see him. I mean, the vet had said he’d probably be okay, but seeing for myself . . .”

  He nodded, giving Sadie an absent pat when she nosed his hand. “You can take him his toy tomorrow. That’ll probably make him feel better.” They’d had the car packed up when she’d gotten out and dashed back into the house for it.

  She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, you’re probably right. And I’m at the place where I’m okay with that.”

  The vet had been cagey when they’d tried to pin him down on a release date. Ryder privately thought that the longer the animal stayed under the doctor’s care, the better. Cady would worry more once he was back home. Or wherever she decided they’d be staying long-term. She’d been vague about her plans.

  But she was here now. And so was a dark sedan belonging to the surveillance team, parked in front of his home. It’d serve as a constant reminder of how close a call she’d had this morning. And of the danger that persisted until the shooter was apprehended.

  Habit had him picking up the remote and turning on the TV. They’d grabbed something to eat on the way back from Marshall. “What’s your next step?”

  Talk of work roused her, the way he’d known it would. “I called a task-force meeting for tomorrow. Crawley said he’d have one of his deputies deliver Fielding’s cell to the Greensboro lab today. Hopefully cyber forensics will be quick.”

  “I should have the eTrace results for the weapon tomorrow. I’ll email them to you.” He’d submitted the weapon’s model name, manufacturer, and serial number into the ATF’s online site. A technician would trace the weapon to its first owner. “If the Edneyville lab fast-tracks the ballistics tests, they could forward the results to Greensboro. Maybe the recovered brass and bullets can be matched with the ones found in the Matthis and Bahlman homicides.”

  She still hadn’t sat down. Ryder could feel the nerves radiating from her. He crossed to the couch and dropped down on it. “Have you called your mom since this morning?” As guilt flickered in her expression, he mentally damned his words.

  “You’re right.” She drew her cell out of her jeans pocket. Checked the time. “I’d hate to have her hear about the shooting secondhand.” She went into the room where they’d put her things. Shut the door. Ryder flipped on a Duke game. By the time it was over, Cady hadn’t returned. He switched off the lights and TV and headed to the back door to let Sadie out for the final time. His mind wasn’t on the task. It’d been just after dawn when Cady had walked outside this morning on much the same errand. And almost wound up dead.

  His fingers curled. Between the shooting and the Fielding bombshell today, he knew her investigation had taken a giant leap forward. It remained to be seen whether it could be solved before another attempt was made on Cady’s life.

  The dog bounded back up the deck. He stepped aside and let her in, locking up. It took more restraint than he would have imagined to walk past that closed bedroom door. To climb into bed alone. He hadn’t expected to sleep. There were too many thoughts bumping and colliding in his mind, much like the clouds scudding in the night sky outside. But he must have. He had a sense that some time had passed when he came alert. The door to his room had opened.

  She stood in shadow, but there was no mistaking her silhouette. Blood pooled in his groin. Without a word, he reached over and flipped the covers back on the bed. She padded across the room and slid between them. Their embrace was desperate. Urgent. Cady was often an enigma. But right now, Ryder knew both of them needed the same thing.

  Chapter 28

  “What are you still doing up?”

  Dylan hid behind his back the knife he’d pulled from the drawer, feeling foolish. He hadn’t expected his mom home at—he snuck a glance at the clock on the stove—eleven o’clock. He’d been so shocked by the headlights in the drive, he’d immediately assumed the worst. That Forrester had found him. That Dylan had only minutes to live.

  His para
noia was probably made worse by that weird flashback he’d had on the way to shop today. Dylan had no idea if it’d been a real memory or not. But he assumed so, because he’d had a pounding headache like he always got when he thought too much about that night in the woods.

  Tina walked by him into the living room, and he snuck the knife back into the drawer he’d gotten it from. “I was just going to bed.” Surreptitiously, he eased the drawer closed. Followed her into the next room.

  She obviously didn’t realize he was lying. Or didn’t care. His mom dropped her purse onto the floor and sat heavily on the couch. “Christ, what a fucking day. I got cramps and a headache to boot. Get me some Midol from the pink purse in my closet, will you, baby?”

  Silently, Dylan did as he was told. He stopped in the bathroom for a glass of water. Handed both to her.

  “Thanks.”

  “I cleaned the house today.” He’d figured it would help to get his mom in a good mood. Which now looked like a waste.

  “You do the bathroom?”

  “Yeah.” It had to be the grossest job in the universe. As much as Dylan disliked school, if a diploma saved him from a job like that, it’d be worth sticking it out. His mom hadn’t seemed to care that Colton never made it through. Somehow he suspected it’d be different with him. Everything always was. “Do you have to work tomorrow?” It’d be a good time to try to figure out her schedule for the week.

  “No, thank God. Not till Friday. Then Sunday again, because that fucking manager hates me.”

  His heart dropped. But better to know up front. He’d been turning over possibilities in his head all evening. He could tell Grace he was busy for a while. Or . . . “I have to stay after school tomorrow. Probably the next day too.”