Doing exactly as he was told, Brody drove to the Jacks Bluff. When his vehicle rolled over the cattle crossing guard toward the main house, which had probably been there since the ranch was founded in the mid-1800s, he turned off his headlights and got out.
The house was dark. He stayed away from the outside lights, each illuminating a large area. Everything seemed in order.
The reflection of the tall, stately oil derrick that watched over the ranch headquarters made him almost laugh inside. He was too young to have seen Granny Johnson standing out on the porch-wrapped house, which looked like it’d come straight from a Southern plantation, with a Winchester rifle across one arm and the other on her hip, telling the oil field supervisor that they could pump all the oil they wanted out but they would not take down the derrick. It served as a reminder from where she came from to where she was at that time.
Brody returned to his vehicle, made a U-turn, and went straight to town, as fast as he could and stay within the law. Hell, he could be charged with trespassing, too; however, he worked for the county and most of the Jacks Bluff was in Bonita County.
No doubt Scott didn’t have his sights on Tommy as a possible suspect or he would have never allowed Brody to be involved in any part of the investigation, even the search. Or did he and didn’t want Brody to know? Was it possible the chief deputy had a hidden vendetta against him for being an undercover cop?
As Brody turned onto his sister’s street, he switched off his headlights. The only car at the house was Tommy’s, which meant he was home, although there had been a lapse of several hours since he’d left the sheriff’s department. A dim light came from the living room.
Winnie and Stanley would already be at work. Since adding on a full-fledged barbecue café to their bakery a year ago, it took both of them to keep the business running. Their day began at four or five in the morning and didn’t end until sometimes six or seven in the evening.
Parking several houses away, Brody walked back to the Mitchell house, in the shadows of ancient cottonwoods and Siberian elms that nature had planted decades before.
He pulled out two evidence bags, his knife, and a piece of paper wide enough to get some imprints of the tire. Squatting on the dark side of Tommy’s car, he’d retrieved a sample of the dirt in the tire treads. To his skilled eye it didn’t appear to match that on the side of the highway where Deuce had disappeared. He’d have plenty of time to compare the two, as he’d taken a sample from where the tire tracks were found, without Scott’s knowledge. He also took the print of the tire, as best he could, plus pictures with his iPhone.
The car being there didn’t serve as proof Tommy was.
A dim lit room certainly didn’t mean anything.
Brody knew he’d feel better if he saw the sorry, no-good jerk in the flesh, but daybreak was sprinting across the eastern skies.
Time wasn’t on Brody’s side.
With all the evidence securely stowed away, he walked to the side of his sister’s house. He was just tall enough to get a good view inside the living room.
Tommy Mitchell lay stretched out on the sofa with one shoeless foot touching the carpet. His mouth was open, and he jerked a little as if snoring.
Brody took notice that Tommy didn’t have on the same shirt he had worn at the sheriff’s department but now sported an old, wrinkled, dirty T-shirt.
His eyes were half-closed, but he was breathing, at first in shallow bursts but then more deeply. A scenario Brody had seen too many times.
If there were any signs of a drug overdose, Brody would have called for medical help. But it didn’t take a physician to see the kid was sleeping very heavily.
For all it might be worth, Brody took a couple of pictures. They could never be used as evidence in court, but he wanted them to remind Tommy what drugs do to a person, if he in fact was stoned. However, without physically examining Tommy’s mouth, eyes, and coordination, there was no way for Brody to know if he was stoned or sleeping soundly.
Hopefully, he was sleeping soundly, because all-in-all, the kid was anything but stupid except when it came to his associates and drugs. Credit where credit was due, he was a hard worker and did attend college, but the drugs tore a wide patch of destruction within him.
It was a short trip back to the square and Winnie’s café, the Ol’ Hickory Inn. Knowing the front door would be locked, Brody parked in the rear next to the huge barnlike structure. Before he entered the back door, he hollered out to his sister and her husband, making sure they were aware he was coming in the back way.
He needed some answers...answers without asking questions.
Likely it wouldn’t be what he learned but what he wasn’t told that could make a break in the case. The Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in him wanted to put the little jerk back in the big house, while he hoped to clear him, if he was innocent. There was no doubt in Brody’s mind that any DA in America would conclude Tommy had threatened the sheriff.
That was undisputed and would automatically revoke Tommy’s probation, if it got before a judge.
But now the sheriff was missing!
Brody tapped on the screen and walked on in. “Is there still some coffee for your raggedy ol’ brother?” Brody enjoyed seeing the smile on his sister’s face when she pulled her hands out of the soapy water and hugged him. The liquid didn’t bother him in the least. Any time he could get a hug from his only sibling, he’d take it.
“Of course.” She reached up and pulled his special mug from the top shelf over the sink. “There’s always coffee for my big brother.” She handed him the coffee cup, which bore his name. She had bought it for him as a gift years ago. “I saw you at the festival yesterday, but we were all so busy, I couldn’t even break away long enough to find you.”
Brody filled his cup to the brim. “I know the way you’re looking at me that you don’t care much for my pirate look.”
“I’m just happy to see you in the flesh regardless of how you look!” She shook her head and went back to washing a big cook pan. “But, if it weren’t for his size and good looks, I probably wouldn’t have recognized you.” She looked up at her big brother and gave him a quirky little sisterly smile.
Brody leaned against the cabinet and eyed the freshly baked cinnamon rolls, but unfortunately, pastries weren’t what he’d come for. “So how have things been going with your new family lately?”
Her smile was replaced with frown lines. “Okay. It could be better....” She dried her hands and glance toward to entry way to the dining room before she added, “But that’s how it is when you’re running an eatery. Get up early and stay late. Lots more dishes to wash than we had when I had just the bakery, but bills have to be paid.”
Winnie looked over Brody’s left shoulder, confirming his suspicions that her husband was listening to every word.
Quickly changing the subject, Brody said, “I know you all put out fantastic barbecue, especially the ribs. That’s what I hear everywhere I go.” He took a big sip of coffee and tried another approach at finding out what he wanted to know. “It smelled really good yesterday. I’m sure it meant a lot to have Tommy helping you guys.”
Her brows knitted into a frown. “We were certainly tired when we finished up. Weren’t we, Stanley?”
Brody played along and made a slight turn toward Winnie’s husband. “Hi, Stan, didn’t know you were behind me. Figured you were out putting on some briskets or some of those great ribs in the smoker.”
“Winnie, if you don’t get your ass in gear, we won’t have rolls by lunch.” Stanley guided Brody to the dining area.
Before they could even sit, Stanley began. “What in the fu—”
Brody cut him off. “Why so hostile? I just came by for a cup of coffee and to visit you guys.”
“Then I’ll say it this way—what in the hell, if that doesn’t harm your delicate cop ears, do you want? Trying to catch Tommy
doing some little minor thing so you can be the one to let the world know that you put away a kid who was caught with only a tiny bit of marijuana? So you can be the big man…the big lawman?”
Stanley put his cup in the dirty dish tub behind the counter. “Tommy hasn’t done anything but stay out of trouble and help us, so let him be.” The tone of Stanley’s voice was unmistakably harsh and accusatory.
“It’s apparent you think I can’t even come by and have a cup of coffee with you and my sister without an underlying purpose.” Rage roared in Brody’s ears. “I’m not accusing anybody of anything, but since you brought it up, where was your little brother last night? I didn’t see him at your BBQ truck or at any of the evening festivities.” Brody stayed clear of saying he hadn’t seen him at all…especially at the sheriff’s department. He took a sip of lukewarm coffee.
Safe is better and better is safe went through his mind again and again.
“If you just have to know, he was home sick. Still in his bed when we left. Has a cold and took something I got him at the GreenMart. Something for allergies, if you need to know that, too.” His words were cold as an ice storm in the Arctic. “Guess you want a receipt, too.” He didn’t wait, just barreled on. “Now that you got all of your answers, I’ll let you out the front door. I’ll tell Winnie that something came up and you had to leave without saying goodbye. We’ve got work to do, so we can stay in business.” Stanley unlocked the door and walked him out. “And if there’s anything in my family you need to know, rest assured I’ll send word to you.”
“Thanks for the coffee and company.” Brody put on his lawman’s face and handed his cup to Stanley. “I almost forgot to leave this. Be careful, it’s very special to me.”
When Brody turned the corner toward his pickup, he heard the crash as his mug hit the concrete.
Chapter 7
Brody slammed the door shut on his vehicle. It took all of his restraint not to peel out and let gravel fly everywhere, particularly along the side of the steel barn he’d parked near.
No words Brody could think of fit how much fury ran through him. And, he’d heard more than his share of profanity in his career. He hammered his hands on the steering wheel and hoped the pickup would outlive his anger. Not that he gave a rusty rat’s ass, since it was paid for by shared forfeited money seized as evidence in drug cases from the Joint Task Force.
Now he had a bigger problem on his hands than he had first thought. From seeing Tommy at the sheriff’s office, then lying on the couch only a few hours later, there was no doubt of the kid’s involvement with the disappearance of the sheriff.
No matter how hard he tried, deep inside he couldn’t figure out the time frame and put all the pieces of the puzzle together. Nothing fit like it should. Could the lawman side of his brain be conflicting with his love for family and mixing up his emotions?
One thing for sure, Tommy had been snooping around in the Jacks Bluff barn. But what in the hell had Tommy stolen or planned to steal? There was always the possibility of drugs, but they were locked up tighter than a drum in the tack room. Conflict again churned in Brody’s stomach. Tommy had to have had a reason to be out there on Mesa’s families’ ranch.
At least once Deuce was located and back in the saddle again, Brody could lift the huge burden off his chest. The sheriff would retrace Tommy’s steps, ask questions in his capacity as chief lawman, and pick up the little bastard. But first they had to find Deuce.
While Brody trusted Scott to cover his back in the field because he’d want Brody to cover his, Brody trusted the chief deputy about as far as he could throw a couple of hundred pound bags of grain when it came to competition within the department.
He drove to the courthouse and came in the rear entrance. Locking himself in the back conference room, he took out a legal pad and began to jot down notes, as any good investigator would. He folded the pages, with the intention of giving them to Deuce when he was located. Brody locked the notes in his gun safe before returning to the parking lot and driving away.
Just on the other side of the Dairy Queen, he saw Lola Ruth Hicks, the longtime housekeeper at the Jacks Bluff, driving his way. As they passed, he raised his hand to say hello. She waved back, not in her regular acknowledgement way, but a “pull over to the side” gesture.
The last thing he needed was to answer questions, and, with the helicopter flying overhead, he was certain she had plenty.
Before he could get on down the road, she made a U-turn.
Well, now he had no choice but to stop.
Pulling to the side of the highway, he put on his emergency lights as a precautionary measure, got out and walked back to Lola Ruth’s car.
“Good to see you, Miss Hicks. I was so busy yesterday at the festival helping out Deuce that I didn’t even get over to your and Miss Johnson’s booth and get a fried pie.”
“Well, you know you’re always welcome to drop by. And, if I know you’re comin’, I’ll make sure you have a couple of fresh ones waitin’.” She grinned up at him. “Glad to see you. I know you don’t spend much time here since you moved to Amarillo, but I’m sure happy to see you found time to come and help at the festival.” She continued to clutch the steering wheel and look up at the baby blue Panhandle sky with a light scattering of wispy clouds.
“I’m back working in Kasota Springs full time.” Brody tipped up his Stetson with his thumb to see her expression better. One thing for sure, he didn’t dare mentioned that he did UC work or was on the joint task force unless he wanted everyone in the county to know about it. Miss Hicks was a wonderful and pleasant person, but some things in police work had to be kept undercover as much as the UC himself.
“That’s great.” She smiled . “Are you gonna stay in Amarillo? Are you gonna drive back and forth? You know how high gas is, but I heard it’s goin’ down. You’d save money if you stayed at your ranch. What does your sister think about all this change? I’m sure Stanley had plenty of advice to give. And, of course, you need to take the winter weather, when it comes around, into consideration. And, tornadoes—”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lordy, Lordy that woman zipped questions like bullets she thought he could catch on the fly.
Brody’s desire to muffle his ears with his hands overwhelmed him. He tried to be kind to the older woman, while becoming more impatient to get back to the scene where the search was taking place. He’d also forgotten that he didn’t have anything but his personal phone with him and definitely needed to check in with Scott. The jackass would bitch if Brody was gone longer than necessary.
“I’m so excited you’ll be here all of the time to protect us. You know I’ve always liked you and never thought you should have gone to work for the Amarillo police.”
Brody smiled to keep from shaking his head.
“By the way,” she continued, “do you have any idea what’s goin’ on over at FM208? I’ve been hearin’ a helicopter above us for quite a while.” She looked up at him with eyes that screamed, And you better not lie to me, young man!
“Sorry, Miss Hicks. I was just on my way back there myself. The last I heard there was someone who ran off the road and got lost. There’s a lot of land out there to try to find them in the dark, so now they have some light to help out. I did a drive-through around your headquarters before daybreak to make sure everything looked normal.”
She pressed the palm of her hand on her chest and said, “Thanks. You guys always look out for us.” A worried expression crossed her face. “I hope whoever is lost knows how to handle a rushin’ bull or a coyote with a mouth full of goat head stickers. Now, don’t forget to come and have a pie or two with me. It’s Farmer’s Market day on the square. Not many vegetables coming off yet, so gotta get there early if I want anything.” She said good-bye, rolled up her window, and pulled away.
Brody watched her make a U-turn and head toward town before he returned to his unit.
/> The closer he got to the search site, the tighter his stomach clenched. Luck had been with him when he ran into Lola Ruth Hicks. Generally, if anyone started a conversation with her it was like wringing the neck of a rooster, swinging it around and around, until either his neck snapped or everyone gave up and headed home, not planning on having chicken for supper.
Now, Brody had a reason to be gone so long, if Scott were to ask. The more time he had, the better he could decide how to handle the information he’d picked up while he was in town.
Hopefully, Deuce was okay and they’d have an opportunity to come up with a strategy tomorrow. Whether Brody should have been at his sister’s house investigating on his own or not was open for legal interpretation, but he didn’t want to compromise the case—if there was one against Tommy Mitchell.
As he neared the search site and saw the ambulance, fire truck, and most of the volunteers gone, the worry that had followed him since last night seemed to have dissipated somewhat. For the first time he felt like he could breathe. However, his years as a lawman told him that things were never as they first appeared.
By the time Brody got out of his pickup, Scott had rushed up. “I’m sorry, man, I forgot that you don’t carry a department phone and since I had to call in the relief dispatcher and she didn’t have your private number, Thelma didn’t know to keep you updated.”
Brody stopped him with a raise of his hand. “I don’t care about that. I presume you found Deuce. How is he?”
As if the floodgates of emotion had just been breached, the look on Scott’s face changed to anger mixed with fear. “Damn it, Brody. You were the last person I wanted to have to tell this to.” He swallowed hard. “He was airlifted to Northwest Texas Hospital in Amarillo by Lifestar, once the DPS chopper located him.” Scott shut his eyes and curled his right hand into a fist. “He must have slipped into a pretty steep ravine.”
“Damn it to hell, tell me how he is.” Brody planted his legs wide apart and crossed his arms over his chest.
Out of a Texas Night Page 7
