Down the Darkest Road

by Kylie Brant

  Chapter 50

  The task-force groups operated in tandem, efficiently working the houses on the road and going back to recheck the ones where the owners had been absent earlier. They’d covered the county blacktops perpendicular to each end of the road and then made their way a mile up the mountain to start anew on the next street. The team below them had cleared two unincorporated areas in the time since they’d all started.

  Cady headed back toward the Jeep with Miguel just behind her. She shoved her gloved hands deep in her pockets. The air seemed clearer at this elevation, crisper. The night sky was a velvet blanket pricked with diamonds, some of which seemed to have scattered across the hills below, accentuating the houses there. If she had time to admire views, she thought as she opened the driver’s door, there’d be far worse things than falling to sleep with one like this.

  Instead she’d be heading home, with nothing to show for their efforts today. She shook off the morose thought and started the Jeep as the others piled into the vehicle. The process would take time. And they were getting closer. She could feel it.

  Reaching for the in-dash radio, she contacted the rest of the team. “Let’s call it a night. We’ll start again in the morning. Those who want to stay in the area should be able to find accommodations in town. County sheriff units will be stationed on the bordering roads.” She replaced the radio and eased onto the blacktop.

  “Hate the thought that he might still be up there. Maybe notice the activity down here and get scared off.” Miguel sounded as disappointed as she felt as he fastened his seat belt in the front passenger seat.

  “The deputies will be stopping passing cars to ID the passengers.” The law enforcement net was as tight as they could manage. But it wasn’t foolproof. Miguel’s words were a reminder of that.

  Cady stopped at the end of the road and spoke to the deputies positioned there before pulling away. She gave one long glance in the rearview mirror at the homes hidden by the night and altitude. And tried to believe their security efforts were enough.

  Chapter 51

  Bruce Forrester tipped the beer bottle up to his lips, his gaze fixed on the entrance as the door pushed open. Hanging out in the type of dive bars Tina Bandy had once frequented was a helluva lot more pleasant than spending hours every day in a Food Mart parking lot. He carefully watched a dark-haired man with a couple of days’ growth of beard stumbling through the door. Bruce had gotten nowhere with the bartender or the other people he’d approached. He’d try once more before moving on to the next place.

  He waited for the bartender to approach the guy with his order before moving down a couple of barstools and holding up a bill. “I got this.”

  The stranger took the beer and looked over the rim at Bruce. “Thanks.”

  “I was wondering if I could ask you a question. I was supposed to meet this woman about buying her car for my nephew, but she never showed up. Tina Bandy. You know her?”

  “I know a Tina comes in here sometimes.” The man drank, then lowered the bottle to wipe his mouth on the sleeve of his denim jacket. “Fun gal, you get my drift.” He smirked, drank again. “You wouldn’t want her piece-of-shit car, though. One of them foreign jobs and rusted to boot.”

  A glimmer of excitement worked through him. Bruce lifted the bottle to his lips before answering casually, “Well, she ain’t askin’ much, and the kid will probably wreck his first vehicle anyway. I don’t remember what make she said it was, but it’s black, right?”

  “Brown.” The man belched loudly. “One of them Japanese cars. It won’t be worth much. No more than a couple of thousand, probably.”

  “You know where I can find her? I’d like to get a look at the car, but her cell is going straight to voice mail.”

  The stranger shook his head. “Sorry.”

  Bruce finished his beer and got up to leave, adrenaline pulsing through him. Finally, a lead. All he had to do was troll the parking lots of bars and the grocery stores until he found a matching vehicle and then follow that bitch home, where he’d have the whole family in one place.

  Sometimes, he thought as he made his way out the door and across the parking lot, it’s almost too easy.

  Chapter 52

  Fuck this shit. Eric Loomer surged from his seat at the kitchen table and paced across the room. Back. He was out of beer and patience. Why the hell should Bruce get to set all the rules? Pretty convenient that loose ends just happened to take him away on a Friday night.

  Maybe he was planning to grab another woman. Eric stopped and considered the thought. But the one in his bedroom wasn’t dead. Not yet anyway. And it’d be unusual for Forrester to bring another so quickly. Usually he was satisfied using the whores in the nearby towns.

  Thinking of the female Bruce had left behind, Eric strode to the man’s bedroom door. He’d made it clear she was for his use only, but Bruce wasn’t here. And it wasn’t like the woman was going to say anything. Eric unlocked the door and snapped on the light. Her wrists were tied in front of her, and her ankles were bound. The sight had warmth pooling in his groin. But closer inspection doused the sensation. Her eyes were vacant, like she wasn’t all there anymore. And the bruises around her neck, on her body . . . Jesus. Snapping off the light, he backed out of the room and locked the door from the outside. Forrester could be a madman.

  He pulled out his cell and checked the time. Bars were still open. Decision made, he grabbed his coat off the back of a chair, picked up the drugs he’d packaged, and carried them out to the garage and stored them behind the workbench with the rest of the product. He’d had plenty to drink today, so he’d be extra careful. He got behind the wheel of his car. He’d take gravel all the way to town and back.

  No way Forrester would ever know.

  “Blue Moon draft.” The female bartender shuffled away to fill Eric’s order. He let his gaze wander the nearly empty bar. It was well after midnight. The whores had already found their marks and led them out to their cars or to a cheap motel. He could wait and see if any came back in. Or maybe he’d cruise by the truck stop and see if he could find some action.

  The lady set the beer glass in front of him and snatched up the bill he’d laid out. Bitch wouldn’t bring back change, either. That’s the kind of place this was.

  But his irritation faded quickly. Coming to town felt like a big fuck-you to Bruce, and that was enough to keep Eric in a good mood. Bruce had his secrets. He knew that. The man told him only enough to keep their operation running. He took a long drink from the glass in front of him and lifted his gaze to a basketball game highlight showing on the TV above the bar. They were supposed to be partners, sharing in the responsibilities and profits fifty-fifty. Eric had long suspected Bruce liberally skimmed off the top of the cash take. He’d done it before in Hope Mills. If they hadn’t had to leave the area so suddenly, Forrester might have gotten himself killed by the supplier.

  But Eric had his secrets too. He’d been the one to teach Bruce how to turn their online Bitcoin profits into cash. How to navigate offshore bank accounts and transfer the money often enough to blur the trail. He smiled, raised the glass to his lips to drink. He also knew how to trace Bruce’s history on the computer they shared. He’d diverted part of every deposit Bruce had ever made into his own account. Screw or be screwed. That was life’s number one lesson.

  He lifted his gaze again, catching the bartender’s eyes on him. Something in Eric stilled. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, grabbing the rag and scrubbing the bar, moving farther away. She fetched a shot for another customer, but then she ducked away from the bar and was lost from sight.

  Eric tried to shrug away the paranoia filling him. The woman was gone less than a minute. But when she came back, nothing about her manner calmed his nerves. Especially the way she avoided his gaze.

  He couldn’t say where the surge of suspicion came from, but obeying it, he gulped down the rest of his beer and slid off the barstool. Walked swiftly to the door. After his years with Forrester, he had plent
y to be paranoid about. Eric pulled a ball cap out of his pocket after he left the bar and put it on, pulling the brim low. He walked quickly to the car he’d parked around the corner, got in, did a U-turn, and headed out of town. He’d take the same gravel roads home, even though they took him out of his way, higher into the mountains and down again to their place.

  Eric never saw the police cruiser that pulled up to the bar he’d vacated. Or the two cops who walked inside.

  Chapter 53

  The snuffling sound was getting closer. Something solid hit her hand, followed by a wet sensation. It wasn’t until a furry paw batted at her fingers that Cady opened her eyes. Then squeezed them shut again. “You look like a furry lamp,” she muttered. Hero put both paws on the edge of the mattress. Batted at her again.

  Cady propped herself on one elbow and reached out to pet the animal. She could tell from the sliver visible around the border of the shades that the sky outside had lightened. She needed to be up. Swinging her legs over the bed, she grabbed a T-shirt from the floor and slipped it on. Picking up her cell from the bedside table, she checked it for messages and then tried to shake off the remnants of sleep as she padded to the kitchen, the dog at her heels.

  Bacon. Cady stopped in her tracks and inhaled deeply. The aroma was even more heavenly than coffee. Hero trotted over to pick up the clown he’d left for a few seconds. His gait was smoother. He was moving a bit easier. She almost didn’t even mind the clown anymore as long as he continued to improve.

  Well, she amended, seating herself at the counter bar. She wouldn’t mind until he was fully healed. Much.

  A bare-chested Ryder was tending two skillets, one with bacon and the other with eggs. He flinched when the meat fizzled and snapped.

  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to cook bacon partially nude?”

  He put down the fork he’d been wielding and approached her. “I don’t think the topic ever came up. But now that you mention it, that’s my shirt you’re wearing.” He bent to press a lingering kiss on her lips, his finger curled in the neckline of the tee. “I need it back.”

  “Funny guy. Finders keepers. Tell me there’s coffee.”

  He poured a fresh cup and set it in front of her before grabbing the spatula to flip the eggs. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a short-order cook.”

  She sipped the coffee, her eyelids closing in pleasure. “You’ll need to put in for combat pay.”

  “You got in late, but you must not have found Forrester last night.” Her eyes popped open again at his words. “Surveillance car is still there. And here you are, up at the butt crack of dawn again this morning.”

  “A charming description. Absolutely poetic.”

  He grinned at her over his shoulder, and tendrils of heat unfurled in her stomach. Ryder Talbot really was a fine-looking specimen of manhood. And the sentiment was only partially due to the fact he was about to feed her.

  Between sips of coffee, she described the events of last night, ending with, “We had to quit the door-to-door around nine thirty. But I got a message about one a.m. from Boone PD. Loomer was sighted at one of the bars there.” He paused in the act of lifting a piece of toast to his lips. She shook her head. “He was gone by the time the cops arrived, and there was no vehicle description.”

  A hard fist of frustration clenched in her stomach. If he’d been scared off by the bartender’s behavior, he could have alerted Forrester. They both could have fled. And Cady would be no closer to finding Cassie Zook or putting both men behind bars.

  She glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was just after six. Although she’d gotten only a few hours’ sleep, Cady felt refreshed. Or would after a shower. “We left county cars stationed at the ends of all the roads where we’d been. Every vehicle going by would be checked. I’m not familiar enough with the area to know how he could have evaded them. Maybe we don’t have the right parameters.”

  Ryder turned off the heat for the burners and expertly transferred the food to plates. “And maybe he never saw the cops. Has no idea he was ID’d.” Setting them on either side of the counter, he fetched forks and sat down, sliding one to her.

  A Pollyanna attitude, she thought, but she found herself clutching at the possibility. She crunched on a piece of bacon before digging in to her eggs. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten. Reaching for the milk, she said, “We’ll find out. We continue the search for the cabin today.” And hoped like hell they found it, with Cassie Zook still alive.

  Hero came to her side and sat politely, one paw on her bare knee. She looked from him to Ryder. He was firm about not feeding Sadie human food. But still . . . the dog looked so pathetic. And he really had tried to save her life. With a deft sleight of hand, she transferred a piece of bacon from her plate to the animal.

  Sadie barked once, then stared hard at Ryder, as if using powers of doggie hypnosis. “See what you did?” He broke off a bit for the other dog and tossed it to her.

  “I can’t help it. He’s been through so much.”

  Ryder’s lips curved. “I never would have figured you for a softy.”

  She wasn’t. At least she never had been. But then, she’d never had a pet before, either.

  The image of the dog’s gunshot wound and her gut-wrenching fear for his survival would take a while to fade from her memory.

  “Figure I’ll tag along today. In an unofficial capacity.” Ryder was working through the food on his plate in record time. “I’ll call my mom. See if she can watch the dogs again.”

  “I’m not going to turn down extra help.”

  Hero gave a polite woof. It took more effort than it should have to ignore him.

  “Okay.” Ryder got up and rinsed his empty plate and put it in the dishwasher. “I knew there was a reason I couldn’t sleep in today.”

  Cady shoveled in the last few bites of eggs before getting up to clean her plate as well.

  “First I need a shower, and I have to stop by and see my mom before we leave town.” She felt a familiar tug of guilt. She wouldn’t be able to spend time with her today, as was their custom. Alma would be perfectly happy about that, but Cady was achingly aware that opportunities for her and her mom’s outings were dwindling.

  “Will she be up?”

  Cady straightened. “She will be by the time we get there.”

  “Okay. I’ll drive.”

  She headed for the guest bathroom so Ryder could use the master one. The words on her father’s USMS report danced across her mind. Deliberately, she tried to shove them aside. She grabbed a towel from the cupboard and stripped, wondering again what her mother’s reaction had been when her husband had used her toddler daughter as a human shield.

  And how she’d ever let the man back in her life after that incident.

  Chapter 54

  “Not a bad breakfast for a first timer.” Uncle Teeter shoved the last bite of toast into his mouth. His scraggly hair was still uncombed, but he always woke up with an appetite no matter how much he’d drunk the night before.

  Dylan was pretty impressed as well. The sausage links hadn’t been difficult, and he already knew how to run a toaster. But T had shown him how to fry the eggs just right. And he’d broken the yolk on only one of them.

  “Tomorrow I’ll teach you to make perfect pancakes.”

  Although he was full, the idea sparked interest. “That’d be cool.” He could use all this cooking stuff. Once Teeter was gone and things went back to normal, he could make himself some hot meals when his mom was gone. Ones that didn’t come from a microwave.

  “Are you cleaning up, since I made breakfast?”

  T’s chair scraped the worn linoleum when he pushed it back. “Hell no, I was instructing you the whole way. When you do it on your own, then I’ll wash up. I’m going to take a shower.”

  When he left the room, Dylan swiftly cleared the table and threw away the paper plates. He waited until he heard the sound of the water running before he dug the cell Grace had given him
out of the pocket of his hoodie and checked it.

  Ps woke me up early w/ great news! They’re leaving for Charleston til 2MORO nite!

  A hard knot formed in Dylan’s stomach. There was no way he was going to be able to slip away from T. He stayed up later than Dylan did. And Grace was going to think he was lame. Another week and this project was over. Then there’d be no reason for them to stay after school together. How long before she got sick of being with someone who could never fucking go anywhere?

  Her next message read, I no u cant shake uncle. But if u figure a way I’ll pick u up!

  The shower had turned off. Casting a quick look over his shoulder, Dylan texted back, Cool! Maybe I could drug him or something.

  LOL

  Hearing the bathroom door open, Dylan shoved the cell back in his pocket and hurriedly started scrubbing the skillets.

  “Hey. You guys got any Tylenol? I couldn’t find any in the bathroom.”

  Dylan turned his head and immediately wished he hadn’t. He didn’t need the sight of T wearing only a skimpy towel around his waist seared into his retinas. He’d emptied the bottle last night, but he wasn’t going to tell T that. “Let me see if I can find something.” He went by Teeter, giving him as wide a berth as he could. Going into his mom’s room, Dylan crossed to her closet and went through her purses again. He remembered some bottles in a couple of them from the time he was looking for the gun.

  But all he found was a container of Midol. He took it back to Teeter, averting his eyes as he held it out. “Found this.”

  “Hell, boy, I ain’t having a period!”

  Dylan flushed. “It says it has a pain reliever in the ingredients.”

  Teeter turned the bottle so he could read it. “Huh. Well, I’ll try it. But after I get dressed, I’m going to town to get the real stuff.”