by Jo Davis
“Do it!”
At Carl’s yell, Ty slashed downward, slicing Drew’s right forearm. Drew cried out in surprise even though he’d anticipated it. Christ, it hurt. The gash burned and blood immediately began to soak the flannel shirt he’d worn to school just that morning.
The shirt he’d be wearing when he died.
Carl and Frank were laughing, calling Ty a chip off the old block. Ty stumbled back, and Drew began to shake.
He couldn’t believe his life was going to end, just like his dad’s. All because of this bastard. The truth finally settled in: it wasn’t Drew’s fault at all that his dad had gotten mixed up with these creeps. But now he was going to pay, unless someone found and rescued him.
Shane! Please come get me.
He’d given the man nothing but grief, and now he’d do anything for a second chance. Closing his eyes, he begged whatever higher power might be listening for just one more.
I won’t waste it this time. I’ll love my new family and cherish every day I have with them, for the rest of my life. I promise.
If he made it through this alive, it was one promise he fully intended to keep.
• • •
Daisy had never seen Shane so strung out. Not even in the aftermath of Brad’s death.
Drew meant the world to him, and if anything bad happened to that boy, she knew Shane would fall to pieces. They had to locate him soon.
But he was nowhere to be found. They checked all the usual spots—down by the river, all the local parks and fast-food hangouts, even the boys’ houses. Carl’s SUV wasn’t home, which they found interesting. Somehow she didn’t think Carl was out frantically searching for Ty.
When they’d exhausted the obvious possibilities, Shane was practically pulling out his hair. “What now? I can’t file a report either, even though I know something is wrong! Why the hell didn’t I push him until he opened up last night? Why didn’t I keep him home today until he talked to me?”
She put a hand on his thigh as he drove. “We’re going to find him. He’s going to be okay.” She prayed that was true. “We may not be able to officially file, but we can talk this out. Something tells me the answer is in front of us. And we have friends who can pull strings.”
He took a deep breath. “Right. Tell me what to do, honey. I can’t think.”
“Let’s go back to the station and run down what we know. Talk it out like we would any case.”
“Okay.”
When they arrived, they went inside and beckoned to Chris and Taylor to join them. Curious, the detectives followed them straight into Shane’s office, where she closed the door behind them and brought everyone up to speed. She told them Drew was missing, and about his weird behavior of late. That he was edgy and afraid. Then about his disappearance and Carl’s earlier visit.
Chris piped up with an idea. “Okay, here’s what we do. Let’s bring in a dry-erase board and diagram this out with all the players.”
“Great idea,” Daisy said.
“I’ll get it.” Taylor ducked out, moving quickly. In less than five minutes, he returned, rolling in the large white dry-erase board from the conference room. It barely fit in Shane’s small office, but it worked.
Chris picked up a marker and began to draw stick figures, labeling each one. “We’ll start with Drew and his dad,” he said, placing the two figures on the bottom half of the board.
“Why Brad?” Taylor asked.
“Because all Drew’s troubles start with his death.” Chris shot his cousin an apologetic look, but Shane agreed with him.
“That’s true.”
Chris continued. “So, after his dad passed away, Drew came here and these all became important people who provided his foundation.” Next, underneath Drew, he added figures labeled with the names of Shane, Daisy, Tommy, Shea, and himself. “That about right?”
“Looks good,” Shane said.
“All right. Now, above him, let’s add people who’ve become a part of his life, whether friends or not.” Above Drew, he added Ty and Carl. “Who else?”
Shane spoke up. “Frank Johnson. Both boys had to repaint his property.”
“Got it. And?”
“A kid named Alan,” Daisy interjected. “He knows Drew, but I’m not sure how well.”
Chris added Alan out to the side. “Is that all?”
The assembled group perused the figures. No one could think of anyone else.
Chris went on. “Now, let’s start connecting these folks and make a nice little spider web of who all knows who. From the bottom up.”
“Drew and Brad.”
Chris made the line connecting them. Then the rest as they were given to him.
“Drew and Ty.”
“Ty and Carl.”
“Carl and Frank.”
“Carl, Frank, and both boys.”
“Carl, Frank, and us,” Shane said slowly. “We’ve been trying to hang them for years.”
“Well, we’ve got a nasty pattern emerging here,” Taylor said thoughtfully. “But we’re missing something. What’s the missing link?”
“We’re missing a connection to Brad, not Drew.” Shane’s voice rose in excitement. “Brad connects to Sugarland before his death. That guy in the ditch off I-49, Larry Holstead, was connected to the drug that killed Brad. Holstead had traces of it on his clothing.”
Chris caught the thread, twirling the marker in his fingers. “Meaning what? Who’s missing?”
Daisy gasped in sudden realization. “What’s missing is where that drug originated! We need Brad’s dealer in the diagram!”
The color drained from Shane’s face. “Jesus. Good thinking, sugar.”
Quickly, Chris scribbled in that figure next to Brad, then added a connecting line to Carl and Frank with a question mark above it. “Is this possible? Does this mystery drug dealer connect with all of our characters in Sugarland, including Holstead?”
“Whoever he is, if we’re on the right track, he sure as hell completes the missing link,” Shane breathed. Then he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. “My God, I never gave a thought to Brad’s dealer. I need the surveillance video from his estate. Who’s going with me?”
Daisy and Chris immediately volunteered to accompany him, while Taylor reluctantly agreed to remain on stand-by. In minutes the trio was on the road, Shane driving. The trip to the estate seemed to take forever, especially when they were so hopeful of turning up an important clue. As Shane finally pulled up to the gate and punched in the security code, they were all on edge.
“Jeez, I can’t believe the kid inherited this,” Chris murmured.
Driving through, Shane glanced at his cousin. “Wealth and fame ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Brad left behind a grieving son who has no use for all of this, and who would much rather have his dad back.”
“Sorry. It’s just overwhelming to see it up close.”
“No worries. Most people react like that.”
“What are you and Drew going to do with this place?”
“That’s Drew’s decision to make when he gets older. In the meantime, the groundskeepers maintain it. Personally, I’d like to see him sell it someday and purchase something else that’s just his.”
He parked around back, near the garage, and used his key to enter a back door near the kitchen. They waited as he jogged off to disable the security alarm, and Daisy goggled at the place. Her living room and bedroom would both fit in the huge kitchen. It struck her as kind of sad, the idea of Drew and his dad rattling around alone in a place this big. It appeared to be more of a showplace than a home.
Her opinion didn’t change when Shane returned and led them through the living room to the large study. The interior was about as warm and inviting as a museum, and Shane must’ve caught her expression of confusion and distaste.
“This isn’t who Brad was,” he said quietly. “It’s what he thought he wanted.”
“That makes sense. I don’t feel the man you loved like a brother i
n this house.”
“He was never here.”
Shane began a search of the office, beginning in the cabinet where the surveillance equipment was set up on shelves. The small monitors showed the live feed from several cameras positioned around the exterior of the house. There were none inside.
Next he opened a set of doors underneath the monitors where cases of DVDs were stored. As he flipped through them, he cursed anxiously. “Dammit! The ones for the weeks leading up to Brad’s death are missing.”
“The lead detective from the case probably has them,” Chris suggested. “Can you call him?”
“Yeah. It’s just an extra step I’d hoped to avoid.” Reluctantly, he placed the call and stepped from the office.
Daisy and Chris milled around while Shane spoke urgently on the phone, explaining the situation in as few words as possible. He seemed to have a bit of difficulty convincing the other cop to let them take a look, since they weren’t sure they had an official case on their end to warrant it. But in the end, the man relented.
“He’s going to let us come in and look at the feed,” Shane told them. “But only because he’s been trying to identify some people on the tapes and he’s hoping I might know them. Maybe it’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got.”
Shane reset the alarm, locked the door, and they left. Daisy was silently glad to be gone from the mansion and its lingering pall. Now that Drew had moved all his belongings to Shane’s, she hoped not to return in the near future.
Detective Lacey was waiting for them when they arrived and showed them into a room with a player and monitor. He was a nice enough man, professional but not so tight his ass squeaked when he walked. He didn’t have to show them a damned thing, but was smart enough to realize playing well in the sandbox frequently gained rewards.
“I don’t know what use this will be,” he began, seating himself in a rolling chair in front of the monitor. They took up chairs flanking him. “Our focus, of course, is the drug angle. We want the seller behind bars, and so does the media. I’ve narrowed down the feed to a few shots of visitors we couldn’t identify.”
He started playing the clips, giving them a verbal rundown. “Most appear harmless, but we know better than to assume based on appearances. Here’s one.” The feed showed a skinny kid placing a flyer on the front door. “This was a onetime visit. Anybody know him?”
They all shook their heads.
“He’s probably nothing. Just a kid who slipped through the gate, which is interesting, but I think he just placed the flyer so he could brag to his friends he’d been on an NFL star’s estate. Next one.”
They went through several. The footage showed a stream of visitors, all innocuous. A pizza delivery guy from Drew’s favorite place. The grounds people, whom Shane verified were OK. A worker from the power company. A cable man. A preacher.
“I didn’t think Brad was religious,” Chris said, squinting at the screen. “Hey, am I seeing things or is that . . .”
“Fuck me!” Shane burst out. “It’s Eastlake!”
“Who?” Lacey asked, eyes lighting up.
“Carl Eastlake, a scumbag we’ve been trying to bag for years,” Shane snarled.
“Why the hell is he dressed like a preacher?”
Shane waved a hand at the video. “It’s not like he would want to risk showing up frequently at a famous NFL player’s home looking like a drug dealer. He’s got to be the one who was supplying Brad with that shit. We’re finally going to get that fucker.”
“Maybe, but even though he shows up on the feed many times, the vids aren’t solid proof he was selling.” Lacey was practically vibrating with anticipation, though.
“I don’t need proof he was selling to tear him apart.” Shane’s fist banged on the counter. “It all makes sense now, why Drew has been acting so weird. Why he was so damned scared last night when I mentioned I might talk to Eastlake about him and Ty skipping school.”
“Catch me up,” Lacey said.
“Drew had to have seen Eastlake come and go from the house, and he’s not stupid. He must have known the man was his dad’s dealer. Drew’s been having all these mood swings, having trouble coming to terms with his dad’s death.”
“He’s been feeling guilty,” Daisy realized. Her heart broke for him. “He feels responsible for not telling anyone that his dad was using. That poor baby.”
Shane picked up the thread. “Then he moves in with me and meets Ty at school. The two become friends. But Carl is never home, so it takes time for their paths to cross. When they do meet—and now I believe that’s what took place yesterday when they skipped school—he’s terrified. And Carl instantly knows Drew has made him. The boy is now a threat to him. A witness.”
“Now he and Ty are missing,” Chris muttered. “Jesus Christ. I suggest we track Drew’s phone, ASAP.”
“That asshole has my boy, and when I catch him, he’s going to wish he’d never been born.”
The cold rage in Shane’s stormy eyes made Daisy shiver.
Carl had better run. Because there was nowhere in the world he could hide from Shane.
15
Chris’s suggestion was a good one.
Shane paced his own department’s conference room, agonizing over how long it was taking to track a damned cell phone. So they wouldn’t have to get permission from the brass and delay things, the obvious answer was to use the TrackMyPhone app to locate his boy fast.
But Chris’s face as he approached didn’t signify good news. Shane loped out of the conference room to meet him.
“Cuz, it’s not good.” Pulling out a familiar phone with a patriotic rubber cover, Chris looked grim. “We found it in the back parking lot at the high school.”
He stared at the device, at first not comprehending the magnitude of how very bad this was. The phone wasn’t with Drew; it had been left behind. No doubt at the scene of his abduction. An animalistic roar erupted from his chest and he turned, picked up a chair, and sent it flying. It crashed into a desk, and three nearby officers scattered. He was reaching for another, might have torn the station apart, if it hadn’t been for Daisy.
“Honey,” she whispered. “This won’t help him. The only way we’ll save him is if you keep your head.”
Arrested, he stared at her. She was a calm river in the storm that had been his life since Brad’s death. Regardless of the stares it gained them, she cupped his face in her hands. And placed a very sweet, gentle kiss right on his lips.
Gradually, the world began to make sense again. Until he was centered. Had a purpose—to protect his family. He’d sworn he would, and he would not rest until Drew was safe. Giving Daisy a kiss in return, he walked over and righted the chair, muttering apologies to the officers he’d startled.
Chris got his attention again. “I was about to tell you that the cap approved tracing Ty and Carl’s phones. We’ll turn up something soon, buddy. Try not to worry.”
Easier said than done. But he was glad the guys were on it, because he was useless at the moment. Now he knew firsthand why there were rules forbidding coworkers who were life partners from being on the same shift. Even working for the same department was discouraged for this very reason; when loved ones intersect with the job, cases could get messy. It’s why he was never paired with his cousin, unless it absolutely couldn’t be avoided.
Drew wasn’t his coworker, but he was family. An innocent who’d had the misfortune to intersect with one of their cases. Daisy was family, too, in every way that mattered.
“Shane,” Taylor called. He and Chris were jogging toward him, waving a paper. “We’ve got a location on Carl’s phone. It was tracked to a location east of town, in the hills not far from Frank Johnson’s place.”
The captain was right behind them. “You four go, but be careful. Carl and Frank could be together, and they’re like rattlers when they’re cornered. Neither of them are the type to take prisoners or to let themselves be brought in on felony charges that’ll put them away for
good. I don’t give two shits about them, but I won’t have my best detectives getting hurt.”
“Thanks, Cap. We’ll take care.” Shane managed a smile at him. They were damned lucky to have the man as their superior. If he didn’t go and have a heart attack on them from the stress in his life, they’d be doubly blessed.
They took two of the department’s SUVs. One was to escort what the others hoped would be their prisoners, though Shane didn’t much care if Carl survived to be arrested. The other was for retrieving Drew and Ty. Taylor rode with Shane. The man was his partner, and even if he’d rather be with Daisy, he wouldn’t jeopardize their case by not following procedure.
“Isn’t there an old distillery and a cabin out here?” Shane asked, glancing at Taylor, who was driving.
“Yes. The signal seems to be coming from that area. There’s not much else around, so that would be my bet.”
“If Carl does have them, I can’t believe he was stupid enough to think he wouldn’t get caught.”
“He’s that arrogant,” Taylor mused. “I doubt he was planning on us figuring out that he was connected to Drew and Brad. That will be his downfall.”
“Oh, he’s going down all right. I just pray he doesn’t take my son with him.”
Taylor glanced at him. “You really think of him as yours, don’t you?”
“He is mine,” he said fiercely. “I’ve known him since he was a baby. I’ve changed his diapers, taken him to ball games. Fixed his skinned knees. I’ve loved him and taken care of him while Brad was off making a name for himself, for as long as I can remember. Hell, since I was younger than Drew is now.”
“I keep forgetting Brad was something like eight years older than you.”
“Yeah. When I was Drew’s age, Drew was three years old. He’s always been my little buddy, and now he’s my son. I’m going to kill Carl Eastlake for trying to take him from me.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that last part.”
