by DiAnn Mills
“I’m wearing a badge.”
“Your allegiance to the laws governing this land are in question.”
Kevin blew out an exasperated breath. “I could say the same to you.”
“Is there any doubt how many FBI agents are actively working to unlock this case?” April said. “Now, are you on the side of right or a greedy sheriff?”
“Great question considering you’re taking the side of a fugitive.”
“Really? You’re not concerned your original crime scene investigation report has essentially disappeared and could have been tampered with?”
“My family’s lives swing in the balance.”
“We can arrange a safe house for them.”
Kevin stared at her, motionless. “If you can assure me my wife and sons will be out of the line of fire until this is over, I’ll help. I saw the broken window and did my part in recording evidence.”
23
THE SMELL OF A COW PATTY squashed between April’s toes rose in the confines of Miss Ella’s car. So out of her element. Jason drove and had the heat on, which made the odor permeate the Buick.
“Jason, you reek of manure,” Kevin said.
“It’s not him, but me.” April so appreciated the darkness. “I’m barefoot and stepped in it.”
“Where are your shoes?” Kevin said from the backseat. “Should you go back for them?”
Jason swung to her. “And why are you barefoot when you were wearing Miss Ella’s shoes?”
Embarrassment at the memory of what happened in the pasture swept through her. “. . . After I stepped in the manure, I vaulted the fence and ripped the side of Miss Ella’s skirt. For sure, we need the bull on our side.”
Laughter broke the wall of stress, and she felt it.
“You met Romeo,” Jason said. “He’s the construction crew’s mascot.”
“Just don’t get in his way,” Kevin added. “Better get rid of the smell before you return the car. Miss Ella treasures this Buick.”
Jason drove Kevin to his motorcycle parked about three quarters of a mile in the opposite direction of where he and April had left the car. In the darkness, the three discussed the transition of securing Kevin’s family in Houston. April had contacted Simon and arranged for a safe house. Thankfully he’d agreed without hesitation. An SUV was en route to Woodville, where agents would provide an armed escort to an undisclosed location.
She questioned why Kevin’s family were immediately whisked away while Jason hadn’t received a time for Isabella and his mother to be escorted to a safe house.
“I’m feeling better about the arrangement,” Kevin said after ending a call to his wife. “She’s packing and telling the boys they’re going on a little vacation with no school.” He paused, possibly thinking about the separation. Or perhaps his commitment to bring down Willis. At least April hoped those were his thoughts.
“She’ll leave a note stating she’s leaving and taking the boys. She’ll say something about finding out I was having an affair. I’ll keep the note in my wallet in case Willis wants to see it.”
April formed her words carefully. “I know his wife left him and took their son. If needed, use it as a conversation topic.”
Kevin breathed in and out. “He’s been a worse pain ever since.”
“You’ve made the right decision,” she continued. “I can’t imagine the worry you have for your family.”
“Their safety has been a huge burden on my shoulders, especially after Isabella’s kidnapping.” Kevin’s higher-pitched voice revealed his anxiety. “This whole thing makes me wonder if I’ve lost my senses. Willis never backs down.”
“Your family will be okay,” April said. “You heard me give the FBI your wife’s cell phone number. You simply stay out of sight until she leaves.”
April deliberated Kevin’s every word. Jason valued his friendship, but the skepticism of his friend’s loyalty weighed heavily. She would need to be wise in her discernment. “How many do you think are on Willis’s payroll?”
“I can only speculate. Possibly the deputy you met outside the hotel, Griff Wilcombe. Arrived in Sweet Briar about a year and a half ago. Lives in a duplex. No family. Sticks to himself.”
“Cal Bunion is parked near my parents’,” Jason said. “He could just be doing his job, following orders, though. Never saw anything out of him that pointed to breaking the law. Any others?”
Kevin shook his head. “This hasn’t exactly been a topic of deputy conversations.” He took a quick look at his watch. “Are Ted and Vicki taking Isabella to Woodville? Thought they could keep my wife and boys company.”
“We’ve made different plans,” Jason said.
“Moving Isabella the same night your family disappears would give Willis reason to enlist damage control on you,” she said.
“You’re right. Maybe they can catch up in Houston later on.”
Not until she and Jason knew without a doubt Kevin spoke the truth.
Kevin lifted the handle on the rear passenger side of the car with a click. “Thanks to both of you for persuading me to see things your way. I’m not ashamed to say I’m scared. Been used to Willis calling the plays for as long as I can remember.”
“Think district championship,” Jason said, and April wondered what he meant.
“How do we stay connected?”
“Pick up a burner.” She hoped her advice didn’t backfire.
“Probably more than one. If Willis suspects me, he’ll find a way to trace what I’m doing.” Kevin exited the car, and Jason turned on the engine and drove away, the sound of gravel kicking up under the tires.
She watched Kevin disappear in the darkness. “Do you trust him?”
“I want to. I’d like for him to think we have no reservations. You heard some of the conversation with Kevin at the construction office. Guess we’ll know soon.” He turned onto a tractor path.
“There’s a No Trespassing sign.”
“No worries.”
Miss Ella’s Buick bounced along the bumpy trail. “I’ll request Kevin’s cell phone records and hope I get them.” She yawned. “We can’t function well until we get some sleep.” She arched her shoulders to stay awake.
“I’ll sleep in my truck.”
“Is it well hidden?”
“Yes, and the property owner’s in a nursing home.”
The headlights illuminated a path through the woods. Creepy. “Don’t get Miss Ella’s car stuck.”
He chuckled. “Last words of advice?”
“Call me when you wake up.”
“I have spotty connectivity out here, so keep trying if I don’t answer. Texting may be best.”
“I should have additional intel to review by morning. Simon sent something to me when I was outrunning Romeo.” She faced reality. This could go south if I’m refused. Always been a rules girl . . . In the darkness she smiled into his face. “Don’t do anything stupid until we talk.”
“You sure are bossy.”
“I haven’t even gotten started. Be careful,” she said.
“Me? You’re the one who lost Miss Ella’s shoes and tore her dress.”
She covered her mouth, but a giggle slipped through her lips. Whether it be hysteria or sleep deprivation taking its toll, she laughed.
“Whoa,” he said. “Let me see your hands.” He flipped on the dome light. She reluctantly showed the scrapes she received climbing over the barbed wire. “You’re bleeding. Make sure Mom cleans you up.”
She jerked back her hand. His touch had been a little unsettling. “I’m a big girl, and I know how to use hydrogen peroxide and Band-Aids.”
“Right. Be careful driving back to Sweet Briar. If the FBI orders you to return to Houston, don’t argue.” He looked away, then back to her. “We’ve barely met, but I know enough to say I don’t want you hurt.”
April chose not to respond.
24
WHEN APRIL WAKENED ON SATURDAY, the shades in Isabella’s room were pulled tight, gi
ving no indication of the time. April had slept on a twin bed in the guest room wearing a borrowed gown from Vicki. Her attention whipped to the empty crib. She’d heard neither Isabella stir nor Vicki enter the room to get her. Blinking away the fog in her head, she rose to open the bedroom door and discerned Vicki talking to Isabella downstairs.
She breathed relief.
April crawled back into bed and reached for her phone on the carpeted floor beside her: 10 a.m. Exhaustion had sealed her off from the rest of the world. A quarter of the day wasted. Her phone contained no new texts from Jason or Simon.
She remembered Simon had sent a report about Willis last night. Leaning back on the pillow, she opened the document and scanned it for the most critical information. She’d prefer a jolt of caffeine before studying it, but not this morning.
Willis Lennox had been elected for two consecutive terms as sheriff of Sweet Briar, taking office at twenty-eight years old. Young for a sheriff. Three reports of misconduct during his tenure as deputy and then sheriff with charges dismissed. Wife and son at unknown address. The report read like an employer background check. She could have obtained this with a Google search. What elements in Houston were keeping the brakes on?
Blowing out her irritation, she moved on to what Simon had sent regarding Jason. If her involvement had been approved, she was sure she’d have received clarification and in-depth information. She enlisted patience when working hostage negotiation, but she had little of it when needing critical data. She read on.
Jason Snyder’s ranch held no mortgage. He’d lived in Sweet Briar since birth. Widower. One child. No military service. No arrests. The background lined up with what he’d told her and she’d found out on her own.
What Simon hadn’t said about the case spoke louder than his instructions to send all her findings to him. He wanted her in Houston. She pressed in Simon’s number.
“Mornin’, April. Are you on the road?”
“Still in bed. What’s the verdict? I saw the sparse report on Willis and Jason.”
“You walked into a hornet’s nest. There’s more to this case than what you’ve uncovered. At this point, I’m obtaining intel about what’s going on with Sheriff Lennox. As of right now, you haven’t received clearance. But as a favor, I’m working on it. The SAC headed to DC last night with our supervisor. Said they’d get back with me on Monday. Sit tight.”
“Monday?” What was going on? “Are you’re confirming this is about Willis’s illegal activities and Jason is innocent?”
“The matter is under investigation. We’ve learned Sheriff Lennox neglected to file Snyder’s release from jail. It’s the sheriff’s word against Snyder’s. Give me time to talk to the agents working the case. See if I can expedite clearance. Stay safe and watch your back. Take a walk. Rest. Go fishing. Agents will be in contact to take the Snyders into protective custody early afternoon. Probably around 2 p.m.”
“Thanks for arranging it. Talk to you soon.” She definitely planned to go fishing, but not with a pole.
The call ended, and she received a text with additional info on the crime scene investigation report, which had come from Willis’s office. Two bullets were fired. One hit Russell Edwards’s shoulder. The bullet killing Edwards was fired into his chest. Ballistics indicated it was most likely fired from a Smith & Wesson 640, but not at close range, and the weapon hadn’t been located. According to Jason, the two men were standing together when the shooting occurred.
She read further. No claims of a broken window. Signed by Sheriff Willis Lennox and Deputy Kevin Viner. She wanted a signature comparison for Kevin. What happened to the original report? Obviously destroyed, but who’d gotten rid of it? Willis? Kevin? Or another person?
She’d risk a “no” from Simon and request a list of those who’d run against Willis in the elections. Even if she had to wait until Monday for the results. She typed swiftly, asking for the details about the charges filed against him and dropped—looking for insight into his intimidation methods. Her need for info kept her fingers flying. Now to find the time to research it all and hope her leave in Sweet Briar became a sanctioned investigation.
She called Jason. He answered, groggy. “This is crazy. It’s after ten,” he said.
“I’m behind too,” she said. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a man who’d been up for too many hours.”
She smiled. “I learned a few things.” She told him about some of her conversation with Simon.
“Kevin said when he asked to see the report, Willis denied him. But you said two signatures were on it.” He paused. “Have you received backgrounds on every deputy?”
“Nothing yet. Griff Wilcombe is a mystery man here.”
“I’d never met him until Russell’s murder, when he showed up with Kevin. I have lots of work to do.”
“You aren’t stepping foot from your hideout without me.” She shook her head at his assuming power over the investigation. As soon as she could shower and track down something clean to wear . . . “I’ll let your parents know about the protective custody arrangements. What can I bring you?”
“Clean jeans and a shirt—Dad’s will do. I’d appreciate coffee and something Mom’s made to eat.”
“Easy enough.” Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of the same need. “Anything else?”
“Call or text first in case I’m carrying out my own search for evidence.”
“You listen to me. I’m the agent here, and neither Simon nor Willis is happy with us. If you’re no longer in the picture, Isabella doesn’t have a daddy, and I’m in this alone. Let me remind you I’m risking my career. While the word is I’m taking a few days’ leave, that could change to rogue agent.”
“April—” his tone measured calm—“I promise you I’ll be careful. I have more at stake here than you do.”
“Just sit tight. I won’t be long.”
“My priority is finding out who replaced the glass at my office. I use two vendors for glass installation. I doubt Willis would use either of them. Too easy for me to follow up. But I’m contacting them first to see if they can offer any insight.”
“If Willis paid an installer—and I assume well—would they be forthright?”
“Not everyone is motivated by money. The two vendors are friends.”
“You must spend every idle moment thinking about how to stop him. You, O country boy who speaks Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic, have an investigator’s mind.”
“Everything important to me is riding on this case. I’ll do whatever it takes. If you think I’m thinking like an investigator, you’re way off. I’m attempting to think like Willis.”
“First requirement of an FBI agent—empathize with the bad guy. We’re hitting one roadblock after another. Why not join your mom and daughter and let the FBI finish this?”
“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
“Problem is, will you live through it?”
He huffed. “I’m doing my best.” He ended the call.
25
APRIL STOOD FROM THE BED, and a flash of the previous night after her arrival at the Snyders’ home swept across her mind. Miss Ella didn’t appear to be concerned about her shoes left in the cow pasture or her torn dress. Fortunately, her hat and car were in good shape or the woman might have rolled up her sleeves for a fight. The barbed wire had taken a toll on April’s hands, which didn’t escape Vicki’s or Miss Ella’s scrutiny. They cleaned the wounds, and April fell asleep before Miss Ella left the Snyder home.
April groaned. She’d forgotten to check the floorboard mats for manure.
She peered out into a sun-filled day. A car drove past and she recognized the Ford—belonged to a Houston FBI agent. Must have been assigned to watch the Snyder home. April hadn’t been abandoned, merely uninformed. But why? What was the security level on this case? Monday seemed a long way off.
She opened the bedroom door and made her way down the hallway and stairs to the kitchen. Isabella was playing on the fl
oor, while Vicki flipped through a Southern Living magazine.
“Feeling better?” Vicki had the same dimpled grin as Jason. She laid the magazine down, open to a pic of Thanksgiving table decorations.
“Oh yes.” April greeted Isabella and kissed her irresistible cheek. The baby babbled on.
“Starved? Coffee?” Vicki said.
“Both.”
“I have some breakfast casserole from this morning.”
“Perfect.”
Vicki stood from the table and gestured to April. “Have a seat. I’ll get you a pod of coffee now, and you can be drinking it while I grind beans and brew a fresh pot.” She pointed to a small machine. “Ted bought us a Nespresso for those times when we want just a single cup. It’s a spoiler.”
“No need to wait on me. Just point me in the right direction.”
“My kitchen. My rules. Once you get to know me, you’ll learn I’m fierce about my kitchen. Sit down and I’ll get your tummy filled and caffeine flowing through your veins. Ted’s working in the yard and is available if you need him. By the way, the car you drove here has been replaced with a Chevy Malibu.”
“Good.” She’d given her word to the desk clerk, and Simon had kept his.
Soon the humming sound of the Nespresso coffee machine and the intoxicating smell of coffee swirled around the kitchen. Vicki handed her a cup. “Cream or sugar?”
“Just black.”
“Like Jason. He says he likes his coffee the color of oil.”
April breathed in the first cup of the day and took a sip. Exactly as she imagined. “This is heavenly.”
Isabella crawled to April. Definitely a positive sign. She pushed her hot cup beyond reach and lifted Isabella into her lap.
Vicki reached into a cabinet and pulled out an orange Fiesta dinnerware plate. “I’m amazed at how fast she took to you. As I said yesterday, she’s very particular.”
April felt the same way, although she’d tried to guard her heart. “Thanks for all you’ve done for me.”
