There was a strange man holding her. Phoebe hadn’t gotten a good look at him, but she thought it was that brute, Tom Rutherford, who’d been harassing Phoenix for weeks. He certainly felt big enough to be Rutherford.
She felt his chest rumble as he spoke behind her. Felt his arms tighten around her yet again. He certainly was a large man. Strong.
Phoenix jumped to his feet and charged the cowboy holding her. The cowboy twisted. His arms tightened around her, almost protectively.
He jerked as her brother struck him on the side.
They almost went down, but the man was strong. Big and muscled…and royally ticked off.
He let go of her, and Phoebe scurried away. The man grabbed her brother. Within seconds he had Phoenix wrestled to the ground—and handcuffed. It was then that Phoebe saw the emblem on the side of the SUV.
Oh, hell. She’d just accosted the Masterson County sheriff.
Phoebe pushed Perci’s helping hand away. “Get inside, with Pan and the boys. I’ll deal with this.”
“Phoebe, let Dad deal with it,” her slightly younger sister said.
“No.” She’d deal. She’d made the situation so much worse; it was her responsibility to clean it all up. Phoebe rose to her feet and turned to the man now glowering down at her. She got her first good look at the sheriff.
Even in the light from the front porch, it was hard to miss the gorgeous cowboy in jeans and a white Stetson staring at her. If he wasn’t about to eat her for lunch, she would almost be tempted to stop and just stare at him.
“You.” He pointed right at her. Phoebe stood her ground and refused to look away…
Finley Creek Book 1
HER BEST FRIEND’S KEEPER
THE DESK HAD BEEN his father’s. The position, as well. Elliot Marshall Jr. never thought he’d do more than share a name with the greatest man he’d ever known.
His father’s murder had made sure of that.
The decor had changed in the ten years since his father had occupied this particular office with the Finley Creek post of the Texas State Police. But the desk…the desk was still the same one.
Elliot didn’t know how he thought about that. About how he’d handle the memories of what had been lost.
His father had been damned good at what he did, the best police chief the Texas State Police had ever had. It was what had gotten his father killed—along with Elliot’s mother, younger brother, and sister.
Or so the rumors went.
They’d never found the bastards responsible. Speculation was rampant that Elliot Sr. had run into a nasty and powerful man. The rumors spoke of bribes and kickbacks. Corruption. The very word had a particular stench all its own.
Good or bad, no one really knew the truth about his father. Had his father been fighting the corruption, or had he been a part of it? Questions were still whispered when the infamous Marshall Murders were mentioned.
No one seemed all that interested in finding the truth. There was no way his father had been a dirty cop. It went against everything the elder Elliot had stood for. Everything his father had taught him.
Sitting in his father’s chair hurt more than Elliot had ever thought it would.
He had his father’s old office now, a personal assistant of his own, and a whole hell of a lot of responsibility. The Texas State Police was the smallest law enforcement body in the state. The Texas Rangers outnumbered the TSP ten to one. The post where he sat was the second largest post of the ninety-two spread out across the state. Only the headquarters in Wichita Falls, fifty miles to the northeast, was larger.
He was going to run it as best as he possibly could.
Nothing would stop him. Hopefully, along the way, he’d find the answers he’d spent ten years searching for. Maybe then he would find peace.
“Will you be needing anything else, Chief Marshall, sir?” Officer Magda Journey asked. His assistant was an attractive young woman with an impeccable record at the TSP and a cool manner he respected. Professionalism was what he prized in his people. Everything else was secondary. She’d been temporarily assigned to him before he’d arrived in Finley Creek, but she’d impressed him with her efficiency fifteen minutes after he’d met her. It would be a permanent position if she wanted it. Elliot was rarely wrong in his assessment of people, and he’d peeked at her personnel file, as well. Very impressive for someone of her age. He hadn’t accomplished half as much when he’d been in his mid-twenties.
“I think I’ll be good for tonight, Magda. Thank you.”
He needed time to process the changes life had brought him.
His appointment to the position had come directly from the governor of Texas. His cousin Marcus, the governor, had told him it was a last-minute replacement, and he’d snapped up the appointment without thinking it through. Now he was starting to question himself and the why of the position.
He’d certainly never made any friends in Marcus’s office. He and the governor weren’t exactly the closest of cousins, let alone friends. The biggest question he had was why Marcus had put him there.
Why any of it at all.
And what in the hell was he supposed to do here in Finley Creek now?
GABBY KENDALL DIDN’T know what to do. No real surprise there; that was kind of what Gabby was used to—was known for even. It was just the way things always ended up for her.
But this…this was a bit scarier than she had expected. She was fighting off a full-blown panic attack and failing. Miserably.
It had been ten years, three months, and sixteen days since her world had tilted on its axis and made her afraid of every shadow in the room. She’d thought she’d gotten herself past all of it. Thought she’d convinced herself the world was actually a pretty safe place after all.
The call from her stepfather had erased ten years of hard work in five minutes.
Gabby closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe again. To think.
It was just coincidence. If someone was gunning for her, they wouldn’t have far to look. Gabby had lived in Finley Creek almost her entire life. She was safe. They were not coming for her.
Of course…it could be because they hadn’t found her yet.
They hadn’t found her yet. If they were smart, they weren’t even looking. They’d probably faded into the evil-people sunset or been arrested on other crimes long ago. Maybe they had even been eaten by rabid coyotes or something.
Unable to make good on the promise to find her and kill her they’d made ten years ago.
Yeah, that was what she hoped. She’d just have to convince herself of that somehow.
Her partner pushed her own chair back and said Gabby’s name. Gabby looked at the redhead across the table from her. Brynna was staring at her. Again. Brynna stared at Gabby a lot. “What?”
“Something’s wrong. What?”
“Just some bad news from my stepfather. Nothing to worry about. Nothing that I can’t handle.” Breathe deep. Breathe deep. She didn’t have to have a total freak-out in the middle of the computer forensics lab.
Not exactly professional. And not exactly like it hadn’t happened before…even this week. She tended to freak out—a lot. Her teammates, at least, were used to it. And they had quirks of their own anyway.
“What is it? Tell me.”
Gabby thought about it and thought about not telling Brynna, but…Brynna was more than relentless when she was worried. It was the way her best friend was. “The Marshall killers may have struck again.”
Sara Marshall had been her best friend in the world all through junior high until they were sixteen—until Sara and three members of her family had been brutally murdered.
One night, when things had gotten particularly tough for Gabby, she’d broken down and poured out the entire story to Brynna and Brynna’s older sister, Melody. Their father had been friends with the murdered family. Mel and Brynna had been on their way to Sara’s house that night, too. It had been luck that their father had stopped at a gas station. If he hadn
’t…Well, that was something Gabby refused to think about.
Gabby had needed that connection at first. That shared understanding of what was lost.
Their friendship had grown since then.
Her stepfather, Art, had always kept Gabby safe, and today’s phone call was just another way for him to do that. “In Oregon, there’s been a case that’s similar.”
“Similar, but not a guarantee. We see lots of similar cases in this business.” Brutally frank—that was Brynna’s way. “It doesn’t mean anything yet.”
Brynna always spoke the truth.
No, there was never any guarantees, but she knew the truth—until they had the killers in custody and could compare forensics, they had no way of knowing if it was the same or not. She’d just be left wondering, and wondering. Probably forever, wouldn’t she? “Still, it was enough to have Art calling me. Warning me.”
“I see. What are you going to do?”
Exactly what she had done every time a similar case hit Art’s radar. Absolutely nothing. “I’m not sure there is anything I can do. The case has been cold for ten years.” Gabby had never understood that. With such a high-profile case, she’d have thought it would have been at the front of the TSP’s caseload every day since.
It wasn’t. And in the five years she’d worked at the Finley Creek TSP, it had never been. Even though a good portion of the people at this branch had been there when the Marshall murders had occurred, it was rarely talked about. That was one thing she and Brynna had never fully understood. They talked about it a lot—but not usually within the walls of the TSP.
“The new chief starts today.”
Gabby looked at Brynna again. Her friend had a habit of wild conversational jumps at times. Brynna was on the autism spectrum, and sometimes, Gabby had a little difficulty keeping up with how Brynna’s mind worked. When that happened, they talked about it so Brynna would have a chance to recommunicate her thoughts—and so Gabby didn’t miss anything. “So? I heard we were getting a new guy after Chief Blankenbaker’s retirement.”
The former head of Finley Creek TSP had taken early medical retirement to help his wife battle breast cancer and spend time with their teenage children.
Gabby had always liked working for him and hadn’t bothered to ask who the emergency appointment to the position was going to be. It wasn’t like her position came in contact with the chief that often. Most of her direct work was under Bennett Russell, chief of the entire Computer Forensics division of the TSP, not just Finley Creek. Most anything extraordinary that they dealt with had Benny’s name on it.
She and Brynna liked it that way. Gabby lived for anonymity, but Brynna just didn’t like people all that much.
In the four years since she’d been promoted from the IT department to the computer forensics department of the TSP, the chief had entered her office exactly three times. Gabby liked it like that.
People in authority made her nervous. People made her nervous. When she got nervous, she rambled. When she rambled, she said something royally stupid. When she said something stupid, she got embarrassed. When she got embarrassed, her skin turned beet red and her blue eyes watered. When she turned red and her eyes watered, she looked ridiculous. Not exactly how she wanted her career to go. Gabby would rather hide in the computer lab most days. Her supervisor could handle anything with people in authority that came her way, right? It had worked this long.
“I said, the new chief starts today.” Brynna was still looking at her with her pale brown eyes so serious. No surprise there, Brynna was serious most of the time. Brynna serious, Gabby freaked. Both of them a little bit more than weird.
“So? You’re going to have to elaborate, Bryn.”
“You know who he is, right?”
“No. I missed the memo…and the meeting.” Gabby tried not to feel too guilty. She wasn’t good when shoved into a small room with a bunch of people. She was better when they left her alone with her computer. Brynna was the same way. One of the reasons why the two of them got along so well. “I covered Benny’s calls. You were with Major Crimes that day.”
If people just left them alone to do their jobs, there pretty much wasn’t anything they couldn’t accomplish together—with the computers, that was.
The former chief and the rest of the officers and detectives they worked with understood that.
Hopefully, the new chief would be the same way.
“You know who it is, right? Gabby!”
“No. Who?”
“It’s Sara’s oldest brother, Elliot Marshall. Junior.”
Gabby just stared.
“Maybe he can help you.”
That was definitely something she never would have expected. Elliot Marshall was back in Finley Creek. Back. Wow. “Uh-uh. No way. Elliot Marshall wouldn’t have anything to do with the Texas State Police. Especially here in Finley Creek. I heard he quit almost five years ago to go to the FBI. And he definitely wouldn’t believe me. He always thought I was nuts. That I didn’t see anything that night. And he wasn’t all that nice to me before that.” Sara’s two oldest brothers, Chance and Elliot, had already been adults with their own careers at the time Sara and the rest of her family had been murdered. They’d both had sudden other plans the night their family was killed. It had saved their lives; Gabby didn’t doubt that at all. Chance was around eight years older than her, and Elliot was a few years older than him. She hadn’t known them well. They’d scared the timid kid she was back then.
“Well, a lot has changed in ten years. You have, right? Maybe he has, too.”
Somehow, Gabby doubted it. “I don’t know, Bryn. I guess I just need to think about what I want to do before I say anything to anyone else. Besides, Oregon, where this latest case was, is a really long way away. It was probably not related. I hope.”
“I understand. Just…keep your doors locked, ok? Statistically, these probably aren’t the same killers. But why play the odds? Why don’t you come home with me tonight?”
“No. I’m ok. If I start hiding with friends instead of facing things head on, I’ll never be able to live my life without the fear, right?” A hard lesson she’d had to learn over the past ten years.
“Sometimes I just don’t understand your reasoning. You’d be safer with us. Dad and Mel both have guns.”
“I know. But thank you for offering. It means a lot.”
If someone was coming for her, there was no way she’d want Brynna and Mel—or their younger sisters and father—in the line of fire. No way. She’d stick it out in her own apartment, with Bug the Cat and her panic attacks for company.
If someone was coming for her, she would never want her best friends standing between them. Ever…
Also by Calle J. Brookes
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
PAVAD: FBI ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Beginning (Prequel 1)
Waiting (Prequel 2)
Watching
Wanting
Second Chances
Hunting
Running
Redeeming
Revealing
Stalking
Ghosting
Burning
Gathering
Falling
Hiding
Seeking
FINLEY CREEK SERIES
TRILOGY ONE (TEXAS STATE POLICE)
Her Best Friend’s Keeper
Shelter from the Storm
The Price of Silence
TRILOGY TWO (FINLEY CREEK GENERAL)
If the Dark Wins
Wounds That Won’t Heal
Hope for Finley Creek (bonus novella)
As the Night Ends
TRILOGY THREE (FINLEY CREEK DISASTER)
Before the Rain Breaks
Lost in the Wind
Walk Through the Fire
MASTERSON COUNTY NOVELLA SERIES
Seeking the Sheriff
Discovering the Doctor
Ruining the Rancher
Denying the Devil
SMA
LL-TOWN SHERIFFS
Holding the Truth
SUSPENSE/THRILLER
PAVAD: FBI CASE FILES
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0001
“Knocked Out”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0002
“Knocked Down”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0003
“Knocked Around”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0004
“White Out”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0005
“Buried Secrets”
Calle has several free reads available at
www.CalleJBrookesReads.com
For my grandfather, the best man I have ever known.
You will be missed.
Oct. 2015
For my grandmother, who gave me the courage to try. Without you and your love of romance, I never would have made it this far.
Feb. 2016
For my papaw, whose children loved him deeply, and will always miss him.
Oct. 2017
Calle J. Brookes enjoys crafting paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She reads almost every genre except horror. She spends most of her time juggling family life and writing while reminding herself that she can’t spend all of her time in the worlds found within books. CJ loves to be contacted by her readers via email and at www.CalleJBrookes.com. When not at home writing stories of adventure and wrangling with two border collies and a beagle puppy, CJ is off in her RV somewhere exploring the beautiful world we live in, along with her husband of she can’t remember how many years and their child.
Buried Secrets: PAVAD: FBI Case File #0005 (PAVAD: FBI Case Files) Page 26
