by Laura Scott
Thunder stopped for a moment, alerting on the base of a tree. Brody wondered if the guard had paused there to catch his breath.
“Good boy,” Julianne praised. “Keep going, Thunder.” She opened a bag of leaves for him to sniff. “Find.”
In the brief moment of silence, the sound of a tree branch cracking echoed loudly. Brody instantly spun north. Thunder reacted at the same time, heading in the same direction from where the sound had come.
Brody clung protectively close to Julianne. She wasn’t his responsibility anymore, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. She was still important to him, even after all this time.
He didn’t see how the guard could have gotten ahold of a gun, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances. For all he knew, they had weapons stashed somewhere on the property.
Sure enough, a loud boom echoed through the air, something hitting a tree branch above their heads. He jerked her arm, covering her body with his. “Get down.”
Julianne dropped to her knees as he fired back, hoping to make the guard seek cover. He knew very well Max and Zeke wanted to capture the guard alive, in order to question him.
There was more movement in the trees off to the east, and Brody was hopeful that Max and Zeke were also hot on the guy’s trail.
“Get up,” Julianne whispered, pushing him out of the way so she could stand. “We need to keep going, to help box him in.”
Brody didn’t want her anywhere near this guy, but he held his tongue. Silently, he prayed for God to keep them all safe.
Another boom rent the air, followed closely by a second shot. He instinctively stepped in front of Julianne, but there was no indication the bullet had come in their direction.
“I hit him,” Zeke shouted. “Fetch, Cheetah!”
He headed toward the sounds of Julianne’s teammates. By the time they reached the guard lying on the ground, the other two FBI agents and their K-9 partners were already there.
“He’s dead,” Max said in a grim tone. “Shot in the head.”
“I didn’t aim to kill,” Zeke protested. “See the wound in his thigh? That was where I hit him.”
“Then what happened?” Julianne demanded.
Max slowly rose to his feet. “Looks like he shot himself in the head, rather than risk being captured.”
For several long moments, they all simply stood there as the grim reality sank deep.
What kind of power did Dupree wield over his men that this guard would rather shoot himself than allowing himself to be interrogated?
And what did that say about Jake Morrow’s ability to get out of this mess alive?
* * *
The next morning, Julianne woke up feeling groggy. They hadn’t gotten out of Dupree’s house until well after midnight. Brody would be there around nine to pick her up for breakfast, so she dragged herself upright, smiling as Thunder simply lifted his head without moving from his place on the floor next to her bed.
“Come on, Thunder, we have more work to do.”
Her foxhound slowly rose and stretched languorously. Then he trotted over to the door, looking at her over his shoulder as if to say hurry up, already.
After snapping on his leash, she took him outside the small motel she and Max were staying in. Once Thunder took care of business and she finished cleaning up after him, she returned indoors. She filled Thunder’s food and water bowls then quickly took a shower and dressed in a clean casual uniform, khaki pants and a short sleeved polo with the K-9 logo on the upper left pocket.
At 0900 hours, she and Thunder stepped outside the motel room at the exact same moment Brody pulled his SUV into a parking space a few spots down from her doorway. When Brody slid out from behind the wheel, dressed sharply in his brown sheriff’s uniform, she was reminded that a big part of the reason she hadn’t slept well had been because she’d been taunted by memories of how close they’d once been.
Of how much she’d once loved him.
Before he’d pushed her away, choosing to stay here in Clover supposedly to help his buddy Nate Otwell find Lilly, instead of joining the FBI academy with her. Brody had refused to consider the possibility that Nate had something to do with Lilly’s disappearance, focusing instead on the runaway angle.
It still hurt that Brody hadn’t put any faith in her opinion. That he hadn’t trusted her. He and Nate had been best friends since their juvie days, but hadn’t their relationship meant more to him?
Obviously not.
Over and done with, she reminded herself. Sure, she cared about what happened to him the same way she cared about all of her friends in law enforcement, but that was it. Nothing more.
So why was her heart thumping wildly in her chest every time he came near?
Memories, that’s why. Julianne took a deep breath, and remained where she was, forcing Brody to come toward her.
“How are you?” he asked, his blue eyes raking over her as if she’d been injured.
She flushed, far too aware of his penetrating gaze. Granted, she had a few bruises from the activity the night before, but nothing serious. Zeke had been the one who’d been grazed by a bullet. Thankfully, his injury was nothing more than a flesh wound.
“Fine.” She willed her heart rate to return to normal, glancing over to the room next to hers. “When we’re finished Max wants to debrief.”
Brody shook his head. “There’s no time. I received a call from dispatch while I was on my way over. We have a report of bloody towels left behind in a motel room, a place called the Broke Spoke Motel. It’s off Highway T about twenty miles from here.”
“From our injured gunman?” she asked, trying to rein in her excitement. This would be a huge help: the towels would hopefully provide a decent scent for Thunder.
“It’s possible,” Brody agreed. “I figured you’d want to come with me to check it out.”
“Absolutely.” She didn’t hesitate for a second. The guy had already tried to kill her twice; the sooner they could get hot on his trail, the better. “Just give me a minute to let Max know we’re leaving.”
Brody gave Thunder a pat on the head, then fell into step beside her as she crossed over to rap on Max’s door. After a few minutes, Max greeted them. “Come in. As soon as Zeke arrives, we’ll start.”
“Actually, we can’t stay. Brody has a lead on the gunman.”
Max raised a brow. “That’s good news.”
“We’re going to head over to check it out, but I also need to know the status on my replacement vehicle.” She felt bad asking, knowing that headquarters wouldn’t be too happy about losing a car, but it was hardly her fault she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Max grimaced. “I’m working on it. The office in Houston isn’t thrilled, but they’ve agreed to provide something for you during the duration of your stay here in Clover.”
“Good. Any idea when I’ll be able to get the keys?” It wasn’t so much that she needed her own set of wheels, but she was desperate to avoid spending too much one-on-one time with Brody. Working this closely to him only reminded her of how much she’d lost when they’d broken up.
How much his refusal to choose her over Nate still hurt.
“Zeke and I can pick it up later today when we drop off the evidence we’ve gathered so far,” Max said. “The Houston office is going to ship everything we have to the lab in Quantico.”
“Would you be willing to send my evidence, too?” Brody asked. “Our state lab is severely backed up, and I need all the help I can get to find my escapee and the gunman who assisted in breaking him out.”
Max shrugged. “Sure, why not? Julianne is a witness, so finding them helps our team, as well.”
“Great, give me a minute and I’ll bring everything in.”
Brody left to return to his car, leaving Julianne a
nd Max alone for a moment.
“How’s Zeke?” she asked quietly.
“As good as can be expected.” Max watched Brody, then turned toward her. “If you need help with Kenner, let me know.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry, I can handle him.”
“Yeah, well hurry up and put this case to rest, okay? In the meantime, I’ll work with Zeke and Dylan to see if we can come up with additional information. I’m hoping that identifying the guards at Dupree’s compound will give us something to go on.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Julianne stepped aside, giving Brody room to hand off the evidence he wanted processed.
When he’d finished, she and Thunder accompanied him to the SUV.
Silence thickened as the vehicle rolled along the highway. Julianne had hoped to avoid rehashing the past, but it seemed there wasn’t much else to discuss.
“Did you ever find out what happened to Lilly Ramos?” she finally asked, bringing up the one subject that had started the rift in their relationship.
Brody’s expression hardened, and he shook his head. “No. I’ve kept her on our list of missing persons, but everyone else in this town believes she up and ran away.”
Julianne scowled. “You know as well as I do that Lilly wouldn’t have run away without telling me. We were best friends, Brody. The four of us—me, you, Nate and Lilly. We double-dated all the time. What possible reason did she have to take off without leaving so much as a note?”
Brody blew out his breath in a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. Lilly disappeared six months before graduation, and I’m confident Nate didn’t go back to his old ways until I left him here alone, to join the army, which was eight months after we graduated.”
Julianne didn’t necessarily agree. “You really think that Nate returned to his life of crime because you weren’t here to keep him on the straight and narrow?”
“Yeah, I do.” Brody’s blunt tone contained a hard edge.
“So you think Nate’s crimes are your fault.” Couldn’t he see how wrong that was?
“Not exactly,” he reluctantly admitted. “He chose to hang out with the old crowd. Partially because I wasn’t here. But maybe because he wanted easy money, too.”
She could easily believe that—Nate Otwell had always seemed to prefer looking for quicker ways to make a buck, rather than working hard to get what he wanted. Hadn’t she warned Lilly that Nate might not be as nice as he seemed?
But Lilly hadn’t listened, claiming she loved him. Then she disappeared. Brody believed Lilly’s parents when they claimed their daughter had researched Houston on her computer, that she’d run away rather than telling Nate they were through. But Julianne still thought that Nate had something to do with Lilly’s disappearance. Either their friend had found out something about Nate and had run off, or she’d told him they were over, and Nate didn’t like it, finding a way to shut her up for good.
No point rehashing the past, she told herself sternly. Right now, she needed to stay focused on finding Otwell. And the gunman.
The Broke Spoke Motel was a completely run-down establishment sitting right off to the east of the highway. Julianne had no problem believing that the injured gunman had been able to get a room without anyone asking any questions. It appeared the motel catered to a rough crowd.
The vacancy sign in the window was lit up, and Julianne was grateful she had a better place to stay. Not that the Clover Inn was a four-star motel by any means, but this place barely ranked one star.
And even that was being kind.
She slid out of the passenger seat and went around to open the back to let Thunder out. After snapping on his leash, she rounded the vehicle to join Brady.
“What do you have?” she asked, noticing the evidence bag in his hand.
“I stopped by the jail to get one of Nate’s T-shirts,” Brody explained. “I know you have that bit of cloth from the gunman, but I’m hoping Thunder can prove that Nate and the assailant are together.”
“Good idea.” Julianne had the bag with the bit of cloth Thunder had brought back after chasing the gunman. She opened the bag and held it out for Thunder.
“Find, Thunder. Find.”
Thunder buried his snout in the bag for a moment, then wheeled around to put his nose to the ground. Julianne let her partner take the lead as he followed a trail toward the line of motel rooms that only he could see. Or smell.
Thunder sniffed along the base of the motel room doors, coming to an abrupt stop at room number six. He walked back and forth, jerked his head to the side, scratched at the ground then sat down on his rump right in front of the door.
“That must be the one,” Julianne said with satisfaction.
“Let’s get the manager.” Brody lightly snagged her arm, steering her toward the lobby/office.
The manager was an old guy with a large belly hanging over his belt and a filthy cowboy hat on his head. When Brody flashed his badge, the guy quickly handed over the key.
“I don’t want any trouble, Sheriff,” he drawled. “I run a clean business. When I heard on the news you was lookin’ for some guy who’d been wounded in a shoot-out, I called right away when the maid complained about the bloody towels.”
“Did you leave the room exactly as she found it?” Brody asked, pinning the old man with a fierce glare. Julianne tried not to roll her eyes—the old man was likely to lie rather than risk Brody’s wrath.
“It’s okay either way,” she spoke up. “If the maid started cleaning before finding the towels we just need to know what surfaces she touched.”
The old man’s gaze bounced between them. “Yeah, uh, okay, I’ll ask Becky to come talk to you.”
“Thanks.” Julianne flashed a smile as Brody took the key.
“You know he’s not really running a clean place, here, right?” Brody asked under his breath as they returned to room six.
“You know you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, right?” she countered. “You were scaring the poor guy to death. We need the truth, not something fabricated to avoid being arrested.”
“Hmph.” Brody gestured for her to get up against the wall, as he used the key to unlock the door.
“Thunder, heel,” Julianne commanded, as Brody pushed the door open. Holding his weapon at the ready, he quickly scanned the room before crossing the threshold.
She pulled her service revolver out and went in behind, backing him up. She made sure to check behind the door, as Brody approached the bathroom.
“It’s clear,” he said, returning his gun to its holster. “And I found the towels.”
Julianne stayed near the door. She let Thunder sniff the evidence bag again, then pointed. “Find, Thunder. Find.”
Thunder dropped his nose to the floor and alerted instantly. The carpet around the bed, all the way into the bathroom where the towels were lying in a discarded bloody heap on the floor.
“Good boy.” She gave Thunder a quick rub.
“Would you start again, only this time with Nate’s shirt?” Brody asked.
“Of course.” She took the bag with Nate’s shirt and went back outside the room. The maid, Becky, was hovering outside, looking nervous.
“You wanted to see me?” she asked.
“Just to verify what you did or didn’t clean in this room.” Julianne gestured to room six.
“Nothing. I always clean the bathrooms first, but when I saw the bloody towels I was upset so I went to complain to Mr. Jenkins. I didn’t sign up for this.”
Jenkins must be the rotund man with the dirty cowboy hat. “Okay, thank you. That’s all we wanted to know.”
Becky bobbed her head and hurried away. Julianne wondered if the girl would tender her notice or stick with the job that likely paid little more than minimum wage. She’d been clear
ly shaken by the bloody towels left behind.
Not her problem, and at least now, they could dust the room for prints. Of course, cross-matching the blood on the towels to the blood found in the woods would be nice, too.
“Julianne?” Brody called.
“Coming.” She opened the bag holding Nate Otwell’s shirt. “Find, Thunder. Find.”
Thunder took a nice long sniff, then put his nose to the ground. But he walked up and down the motel room doors without alerting on anything. When she took him inside the room, he didn’t alert on anything in there, either.
“Doesn’t look like Nate has been here,” she told Brody, who watched Thunder with an intense gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” Brody shrugged and glanced back at the towels. “It seems odd that the gunman didn’t even try to hide his presence here, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, now that you mention it...” Julianne frowned. “Obviously he must be long gone by now. The maid didn’t even start to clean the room, so we should be able to get some decent fingerprints.”
“I’ll call a team to meet us here,” Brody agreed. He made the call, then disconnected from the line, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression grim. “I don’t like it, Julianne. Something is off about this. It’s too easy.”
She nodded, respecting Brody’s cop instincts since her own gut was also screaming at her. Thunder didn’t seem to be sensing any danger, though, so maybe they were overreacting. “I get the same sense of this being a setup. Let’s head outside to wait for the deputies.”
Brody walked outside first, momentarily blocking Julianne’s view. She sighed, annoyed with his constant attempt to protect her, when suddenly she caught a glimpse of something round that rolled quickly down the sidewalk directly toward them.
“Grenade!” Brody shouted. He scooped it up and in a graceful continuous movement swung his arm up and threw it toward the large open field located across the highway mere seconds before it exploded into tiny pieces, rocking the earth beneath their feet.
