Without a Trace

by Amanda Stevens

  Fenton shrugged but the tension seemed to amp up a notch. “That was a long time ago. What happened between Rae and me has nothing to do with anything.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Tom said. “It gives you a motive.”

  And just like that, the polite veneer vanished, allowing a simmering bitterness to cast a shadow over the man’s features. He flexed his fingers as if to remind Tom that the shotgun was still within easy reach. “A motive for what? Maybe you’d better get to the point of this visit, Sheriff.”

  “You made some pretty bold accusations about Rae and her family. A broken engagement could explain why you were so keen to paint her in an unflattering light.”

  “I take it she’s the one who told you about our split?”

  Tom didn’t comment.

  “I don’t know how she presented things to you, but there’s always another side to the story. I won’t bother telling you mine. What’s past is past.” Fenton shrugged again, as if trying to free himself of an unwanted ghost. “Rae Cavanaugh could be an angel these days, for all I care. I came to you because I wanted you to know about the lawsuit. About their motives. If I’d known you’d try to turn it all back on me, I would have kept my mouth shut.”

  Tom waited a beat before he said, “You also didn’t tell me about your record. Assault with a deadly weapon is serious business.”

  He could see the man working to control his temper. “So you pulled my sheet. Before or after you talked to Rae?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “If you’ve done your homework, then you know the original charge was downgraded to a misdemeanor. I did nine months in a county lockup, but the arrest was bogus from the get-go. Guy came at me with a knife and I defended myself with a broken bottle. We both ended up in the ER, but he had connections and I didn’t. You know how that goes. The sentencing judge was removed from the bench and did time himself for accepting bribes. I was clean before that night and I’ve been clean ever since. Nothing in my past has a damn thing to do with why I came to your office.”

  “Where were you on Thursday night?”

  Fenton’s gaze narrowed. “On the night of the kidnapping, you mean.”

  “It’s a routine question,” Tom said.

  He could have sworn the man’s gaze strayed to the shotgun before he answered. “I was in Dallas. Pop is in the hospital again. I stayed with him for most of the day, took care of some business, and then I had a bite to eat with a friend. I got back to the ranch around midnight.”

  “Can anyone corroborate your arrival time?”

  “Like I said, Pop’s in the hospital, so there’s no one here but me. You can talk to him, I guess. I can give you my friend’s number if you insist, but I’d rather not get her involved.”

  “I may need her name,” Tom said. “But that’s all for now. I’ll be in touch.”

  Fenton walked him outside. “Have you talked to the Cavanaughs? Did you question them about their whereabouts?”

  “I’ve talked to a lot of people, but I can’t get into any of the details of those conversations.”

  Fenton’s tone turned grim. “I hope you find that girl soon, Sheriff. If the family didn’t set this up, she could be in real trouble. I keep thinking about Riley.”

  “We’re all thinking about Riley,” Tom said as he glanced around the property. He made sure Fenton remained in his periphery as he took note of the other outbuildings. “You’re right about one thing. You are isolated out here. Keep a sharp eye as you go about your business. You see or hear anything suspicious, give me a call.”

  Fenton put up a hand to shade his eyes as he, too, scoured the countryside. “Lots of abandoned houses and barns in these parts. People use them for all sorts of unsavory activities. I try not to snoop in the wrong places. I don’t want to get my head blown off. But I will keep an eye out. And next time you want to talk, maybe you should call first. Like I said, I arm myself before I leave the house. You can’t be too careful these days.”

  Tom nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Fenton closed and latched the barn doors before trailing Tom back to the house. He climbed the porch steps, but he didn’t go inside. Instead, he stood leaning against the railing as he watched Tom get into his vehicle. Tom gave a brief nod, but Fenton didn’t bother responding. He’d left his shotgun in the barn, but Tom had no doubt the man had more than one weapon at his disposal.

  After a decade in law enforcement, Tom appreciated the need for caution and self-defense. Drugs and human trafficking had created a dangerous situation in rural areas all over the state. Nance County was no exception. Gone were the days when people routinely left doors and windows open at all hours or when kids could roam the countryside without fear of being accosted or nabbed. Tom thought about his sister out there alone on the lake. Her place was secure, and she knew how to use a gun, but Tom still worried about her. Sometimes he thought they might both be living on borrowed time.

  He glanced in his rearview mirror as he drove away from the house. Blaine Fenton was still on the porch staring after him. Tom wasn’t sure how he felt about their discussion. On the one hand, Fenton had been forthcoming about the nature of his incarceration; on the other, he’d kept that information to himself until confronted. Tom had to wonder what else he might be hiding.

  He slowed as he neared the cattle guard. Before he could cross, another car whipped off the road and braked. Tom recognized Rae’s SUV. Rather than reversing to let her pass, he put the vehicle in Park and got out. Rae got out, too, and they met on her side of the grid.

  She looked shocked to see him and, unless Tom misread her averted gaze, a little guilty. Unease niggled as she approached him. “Tom? What are you doing out here?”

  The sun beat down on his shoulders as he gave her a long scrutiny. He could see freckles beneath her suntan and the dark purple half-moons of fatigue and distress beneath her eyes. “I think it’s best if you answer that question first.”

  She hesitated. “I guess you could call it an impulse.”

  “What kind of impulse?” The question came out harsher than Tom meant, but Rae didn’t seem to notice. Her gaze drifted to the narrow road behind him. Even though they were out of sight of the house, he imagined Blaine Fenton up on that porch staring back at her.

  A shadow passed across her features as if she’d had the same thought. “I keep going over our conversation yesterday and your implication that Blaine might still hold a grudge against me. I don’t think it’s true. The breakup was a long time ago. But on the slim chance you could be right, I wanted to see his face when I asked him flat out if he had anything to do with Sophie’s disappearance.”

  “You drove all the way out here to confront him? That’s not a good idea, Rae.”

  “Why not?” A frown flitted as her gaze turned defiant. “I’ll be able to tell if he’s lying.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” She wore her hair down today and the mild breeze that stirred the long brown tresses seemed to annoy her. She tucked the errant strands behind her ears with a jerky movement.

  Tom tried to keep his voice neutral without seeming to patronize her. “Just think it through for a minute. Aside from the fact that you haven’t seen Fenton in years, what if he really did have something to do with Sophie’s disappearance? What do you think will happen if he feels threatened? He’ll tie up loose ends and make a run for it.”

  She looked stricken. “Tie up loose ends? What do you mean?”

  “Leave no witnesses behind.” Tom hated being so blunt. “We can’t take that chance.”

  “Then why are you here? He’s bound to feel more heat from you than me. What makes you think he won’t panic and run after you talked to him?”

  “Because I’m the law. I’m asking a lot of questions of a lot of people. He’ll know that if he has his ear to
the ground. Given his history with your family, it would seem strange if I didn’t talk to him.” Tom tempered his tone as he gazed down at her, resisting the almost physical need to touch her. What was it about Rae Cavanaugh that had him wound up so tight? Why couldn’t he just do his damn job and keep emotions out of it? “You have to trust that I know what I’m doing. Just go home and let me handle this.”

  “I can’t go home, Tom. I can’t stand the waiting.” She turned to gaze off into the trees. “I was out all morning searching the woods around the Ruins and walking up and down the lake. I saw your sister. She said officers have been out there since sunrise. I know that’s your doing. Thank you for that. Thank you for not giving up.”

  “It’s way too early to talk about giving up.”

  She nodded. “I wanted to go inside the Ruins, but the doors are cordoned off.”

  “That’s standard procedure,” he said. “Not that tape is much of a barrier in a place like that. People are curious about such things. We don’t have enough manpower to keep them out.”

  “Then it’s okay if I go inside?”

  “Why would you want to? We’ve been all through that building, including the basement and boiler room. If anything besides Sophie’s phone had been left behind, we would have found it by now.”

  “You mentioned symbols yesterday. I want to see them for myself.”

  “Why?”

  She seemed at a loss. “I don’t know why. Maybe I’m curious about such things, too. Maybe I’m wondering why Sophie would willingly play a game that trivialized Riley’s disappearance.”

  She looked so distraught standing there gazing up at him. So earnest and desperate, and Tom felt dangerously protective even though Rae Cavanaugh could take care of herself. She was worried, yes. Scared, yes. But there was a dauntless quality to the way she held herself, a steely resolve to the set of her jaw and chin when she didn’t want to be told no. Her intrepid nature made him want to protect her all the more, which made no sense. His feelings for Rae Cavanaugh made no sense. He’d known her for most of his life. Had admired her good looks from afar since they were kids, but never once had he thought about her in that way. She’d been off-limits. A prickly nemesis who had kept him and most every other man in Nance County at arm’s length. But not Blaine Fenton.

  A vision crept around Tom’s subconscious, unnerving him in the morning heat. He wasn’t jealous. That would really be pushing boundaries. But he didn’t like thinking about Rae and Blaine Fenton as a couple. He didn’t like imagining them together or wondering if she’d told him the real reason she’d shown up at the Fenton ranch so early in the morning.

  He especially didn’t like all those gnawing doubts.

  She looked distressed as her gaze moved back to the road behind him. “Do you think he can see us from the house?”

  “No. Those trees block the view.” Tom glanced over his shoulder anyway. They couldn’t be spotted from the house, but her question prodded him. “Let’s get moving. We’re standing on Fenton property and your ex-fiancé could head this way at any minute with his shotgun. I’d rather not find out how willing he is to use it.”

  “Tom?” Her eyes held him enthralled. “I was never in love with Blaine Fenton. I’m not sure why, but I want you to know that.”

  * * *

  TOM FOLLOWED HER as far as the arched entrance to the Cavanaugh ranch, and then with a honk and a wave, he headed back toward town. Rae drove only a short way before she pulled to the side of the road and cut the engine. Her hands shook. She lifted them from the wheel and observed the tremor in her fingers. Tom Brannon had done that to her. Unsettled her. Intimidated her. Made her want to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him until all her dark thoughts fled.

  Lowering the window, Rae drew in the pungent air. She’d parked in deep shade, and the breeze blowing through the pine forest felt cool against her overheated face. She told herself to buck up. She couldn’t let the family see her so rattled. They needed her. She’d always been the steady one, a rock in times of crises, but at that moment, she’d never felt less in control. Sophie’s disappearance had leveled all her defenses, and her unwelcome attraction to Tom Brannon had only intensified an already desperate situation.

  She chided herself for the weakness. How could she feel anything at that moment except frightened? The kidnapping had her all knotted up inside and yet somehow Tom Brannon had managed to pierce through her fear. Maybe it really was as simple as needing a friend, a strong shoulder, and if anyone could understand her angst, it was Tom.

  Still, she had to be careful. He was a lawman trained to look for nuances and tells. The more time she spent in his company, the greater the chance she’d let something slip. She hated keeping secrets, especially with Sophie’s life on the line, but the kidnappers had left her no choice. Call the police and she dies.

  After receiving that message loud and clear the night before, Rae had raced back to the ranch, calling on the way so that her father and brother wouldn’t be alarmed when she turned up at the door. They’d huddled around the kitchen table, downing shots of whiskey as they discussed the next step. Jackson had wanted to take charge of the kidnappers’ phone, but Rae refused. The burner had been left in her house. The threat had been made directly to her. For whatever reason, she’d been designated the point person.

  Keeping that phone close, Rae had gone out at the crack of dawn to search for Sophie. Maybe that was the wrong thing to do. Rationally, she knew the best way to help her niece was to sit tight. They had the money and they had proof of life. The rest was a waiting game. But Rae had never been strong on patience. The futile search had been more for her benefit than Sophie’s. She couldn’t sit around drowning in despair. Taking action, no matter how pointless, kept her focused and grounded, which was why she’d gone out to the Fenton ranch.

  She didn’t really believe Blaine could be involved, but what if he was? She needed to see his face, stare deeply into his eyes to know if there was anything left of the old Blaine. Even as kids, she’d always been able to tell when he lied. He’d been an open book. Or so she’d thought. But how well had she ever really known him? They’d drifted together because of the proximity of their family ranches and a common upbringing. He used to say that East Texans were a different breed, a mixture of Southern gentility and backwoods cliquishness, so they had to stick together. He was one of the few people who understood her, one of the few people who had never tried to change her. Undemanding and uncomplicated, Blaine Fenton had been an easy man to like, and for a time, Rae had tried to convince herself that she could love him. That hadn’t worked out. Maybe she wasn’t the marrying kind. Or maybe she’d sensed something even then, hunkering down deep inside him.

  Taking out the burner, Rae studied the photograph of Sophie. She looked so young and helpless and scared. Tenderly, Rae traced the girl’s battered features with her fingertip. The gag was hard enough to witness, but the scratches and bruises that marred the smooth cheeks tore at Rae’s heart.

  She’s alive. That’s all that matters. Just do as the kidnappers instruct and this will all be over soon.

  Rae desperately wanted to believe in a positive outcome. Sophie wasn’t Riley. This could still work out if they all kept their cool—

  A cloud of blackbirds lifted from the woods in a flurry of flapping wings. Rae’s head snapped up as she scoured the countryside. Something had startled them from the treetops, but everything else had gone silent. On any given day, at any given time, the forest teemed with life, but the rabbits and squirrels had scurried to the safety of their hidey-holes.

  Into that deathly hush came the sound of the kidnappers’ ringtone. The burner phone vibrated in Rae’s hand. Several clicks went by before she pressed the accept call button. She put the phone on speaker and the grating sound of that mechanical voice filled her vehicle.

  “You talked to the cops.”

  She suppressed a
gasp at the accusation. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t talk to anyone.”

  “You talked to the cops.”

  “I didn’t! I saw Sheriff Brannon this morning, but I didn’t say a word and I won’t.” She gulped back her panic. “He’s investigating Sophie’s disappearance. He has questions. If we don’t appear to cooperate, he’ll get suspicious—”

  The call dropped.

  A moment later, the phone dinged an incoming text. Rae clicked the message icon and a video appeared. Her thumb hovered over the arrow before she pressed Play. Sophie came into view. She was tied to a chair with a high window behind her, but not much light filtered in. Either the video had been shot in the dark or the grounds outside were in deep shadow.

  Rae tried to take note of the surroundings, but her gaze remained riveted on her niece. She looked terrified but determined as she struggled and strained against the bindings. Then she went suddenly still. Her head pivoted as if someone had entered the room. The sound of a gunshot startled Rae so badly she screamed, and then the video ended.

  Numb with shock, she stared at the screen in helpless fear. Then she shook the phone as if she could somehow bring Sophie back.

  “No. Please, no...” Please, please, please, please...

  A split second of mindless panic crawled by before Rae realized the gunfire had come from the woods and not the video. Another flock of birds had taken to the sky in alarm. Someone was out there.

  Leaning forward to peer out the windshield, she reached for the ignition and then her hand froze. Was Sophie nearby? The gunshot had been a warning, but if the weapon had been fired from the location where Sophie was being held—

  Rae was out of her vehicle in a flash, standing in the middle of the road with her ears trained on the woods. Conjuring a map, she tried to recall any nearby buildings, old barns and farmhouses where the kidnappers might hold Sophie. Where are you?