The Lawman Returns

by Lynette Eason

  “Come on, Sabrina.” She saw his battered face in the opening. She grasped the edges and wiggled into the hole. Hands clamped around her wrists and within seconds, she stood before a swaying Clay and a ragged-looking Jordan Zellis. She hugged the thin teenager. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

  “Well, I almost wasn’t.”

  “Where have you been? What happened to your face?” His right eye was almost swollen shut. His cracked upper lip sported a scab and he had nasty bruises under both cheeks.

  “I’ve been tied up in a barn. I just managed to get away a few hours ago.” He touched his face. “You might say I got beat up when I wouldn’t tell them what I knew.”

  “Why didn’t they just kill you?”

  “Because I knew where the pictures were.”

  “The ones in the book.”

  “Right.”

  She dropped beside the man who’d been in the cave with them. “It’s Lance,” she whispered. “Krissy’s husband.”

  Clay hit the ground beside her. He patted his friend’s face, felt his pulse. “Hey, man, can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  “He needs a doctor.” Sabrina ran her hands down the man’s chest and side and stopped when she felt a wetness. She held her hand up. “I think he’s been shot.” She cleaned her hand in the snow and then dried it on her jeans while sending up a silent prayer for Lance.

  Clay rubbed his temple. “All right. We’re going to have to move pretty fast.”

  “We can’t just leave him here. He’ll die.” Clay bit his lip and swayed. Sabrina caught his arm. “And you’re in no shape to go anywhere.”

  “I’ll be all right. I wasn’t planning to leave him here, but we can’t carry him. Let me think a minute.” He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he said, “He’s got his heavy down coat on and his gloves. He’ll be warm enough.” He looked at the teen. “You’ll have to stay with him.”

  “No way. I’m going to find my brother and sister.”

  “We’re going to take care of them,” Clay said. “But we can’t leave Lance alone, and we can’t take him with us. Once we get to a phone, help should be here within the hour.”

  Jordan hesitated. “What if he dies? Everyone will blame me.”

  “No. Just do your best, son. But the longer we stand here, the longer it’s going to take for Lance to get his help.”

  Jordan finally agreed.

  “I’m going to patch him up as best I can, but you may have to lie next to him and share your body warmth.”

  Jordan nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  Clay started working on Lance.

  “Who had you?” Sabrina asked.

  “Krissy Goode and that Stan Prescott. They wanted to know where the pictures were.”

  “The pictures in the book?”

  He started. “Yes, you found them?”

  “I did.”

  “I gave them to Steven. I saw him put them in the book, but I didn’t know what happened to them after he died.” Shame flooded his face. “I’m sorry I lured you out to the trailer. The voice on the phone said it was a joke and she’d give me fifty bucks. I now think it was Krissy who called me. But when I saw Steven’s wallet, I knew something wasn’t right.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Krissy when you called to warn me?”

  “I didn’t know she was involved in anything when I called you. I had watched that meth lab for a long time and she was only there once or twice, but I never saw her face and in the pictures, she’s kind of blurry. She’s the one who recognized herself.” He frowned. “But I don’t think she was worried so much about herself as she was the other people I’d caught coming and going. They’re her customers and if they find out they got photographed, they’ll kill her.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry.”

  Sabrina hadn’t had any trouble recognizing Krissy in the pictures. “Don’t beat yourself up about it—I’m fine.” She glanced down at herself. “Dirty, a little bloody, but very happy to be alive.” She stepped out of the cave and looked around. A world of white greeted her. Dread filled her even as the cold hit her. She shivered and tucked her bloodied, bruised hands into her jeans pockets. She hadn’t had on a coat when Krissy had forced her out the window.

  Clay dropped his coat over her shoulders as though he could read her mind. The instant warmth felt blissful. The instant guilt didn’t. “I can’t take this, Clay. You’re hurt.” She took the coat off and tried to give it back to him. He simply stared at her. He wasn’t going to take the coat back. Fine. She wrapped it around herself and huddled into it. When he dropped beside Lance to check him over one more time, Sabrina asked Jordan, “Why did Krissy and Stan come after me?”

  Jordan dropped his gaze. “Because of me. Or rather my pictures.” He gulped. “Steven was like a dad to me. He pulled me out of trouble one day and gave me an option. Straighten up or go to jail. Asked me what my dreams were and then bought me a camera. I’d never really had anyone care about what I did, so when it looked like Steven was different, I was determined to straighten up. I had the big idea that I could become a cop like him, so I decided to bust the meth ring he was looking for. I was at the meth lab, not Stan’s trailer but another one. Someone saw me taking pictures and came after me. I’d managed to get away, but I’d been lying low. Trey started asking me questions about why I wasn’t around so much and what I was doing. When I told him, he laughed and told me I was a loser. Then not too long after that, he was all buddy-buddy again.”

  “To keep your trust and see what you knew?”

  “Yes. Apparently.”

  Sabrina exchanged a glance with Clay. She thought he looked ready to keel over. He’d been knocked in the head hard twice in a very short period of time. That couldn’t be good. “I saw the pictures, Jordan,” she said. “They had just Krissy in them and a couple of other people at the meth lab. There weren’t any of me. Why would they come after me?”

  “There weren’t any printed pictures of you. Krissy found the ones on the camera. The ones of you and Steven exchanging the book. I saw you guys at the café sitting outside and I snapped a picture. I didn’t have one of him....” He shrugged. “I looked up to Steven,” he whispered. “He was my hero.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, when she saw the picture, she thought you had it.” He slapped his head. “If only I hadn’t said they were in the book. If I’d just said I burned them or gave them to someone, they wouldn’t have come after you.”

  “But they would have killed you.”

  “Probably.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Clay listened to Jordan talk even while he focused on his friend. The dizziness had mostly passed, but the stabbing headache nearly blinded him. Lance lay still and quiet. Did he know about Krissy? Had he known what his wife was doing? That she was a murderer?

  Clay couldn’t see it.

  She’d left him to die in the cave, too.

  He made a mental note to make sure they came back and gathered up the C4 Jordan had removed from the cave.

  Assuming everything resolved in a favorable way.

  As he finished patching up Lance, Clay offered up a heartfelt prayer. God, I haven’t relied on You much lately. Been kind of mad at You, to be honest. You let them kill Steven, and that’s been hard to deal with. But...I’m sorry. I’m not one for hit-and-run prayers though, so I figure it’s just better not to ask for anything rather than constantly ask when I’m not giving anything back. Weakness wanted to take over, but Clay refused to give in. He thought of his mother and how she continued to be faithful and trust in God even in her grief. I’m asking now, God, that You spare my family and those innocent children. Don’t let Lance die. And help me keep my feet under me when we start moving.

  Would God listen?

  Yes. Clay had no doubt He would.

  Would He answe
r the way Clay wanted?

  That remained to be seen, but Clay would go forward as though He would.

  He felt Lance’s pulse once more. “Hang in there, buddy,” he whispered, praying his friend could hear him. He was satisfied he’d done everything he could do. Now it was up to God—and Clay, who had to get him some help.

  He tuned back in to what Jordan and Sabrina were talking about as he used Lance’s belt to secure the makeshift bandage over his friend’s side.

  “So you’re saying they saw the picture of me and Steven exchanging the book. But I was giving it to him, not the other way around.” Clay didn’t have to look at her to hear the frown in her voice.

  “Yeah, but they didn’t know that. And I had told them that the pictures were in the book before they saw the one with you and Steven.” He sighed. “I didn’t know they’d find those pictures on my camera, make the assumption you had the book and come after you. I thought they’d just look for the book. When I realized they thought you had it, I tried to tell them you didn’t, but they didn’t believe me.” He walked a few more steps, then looked sideways at her. “Krissy killed Trey and Steven, didn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  Tears filled the boy’s eyes. “Yeah.” He swiped his free hand across his face. “Well, Trey turned out to be not such a great friend anyway, didn’t he?”

  Sabrina squeezed his hand, then let go. “I overheard one of them say something about a ‘boss.’ Do you know who that could be?”

  Jordan shrugged and shook his head. “No. Sorry.”

  Clay stood. Dizziness hit him, and he closed his eyes to let it and the nausea pass. He swayed, and Sabrina placed a hand on his arm. “Is Lance going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve done the best I can to stop the bleeding and bind the wound. My T-shirt isn’t exactly sanitary, but I figure it’s better than letting him bleed out. He needs medical help pretty fast.”

  “Then we need to figure out what we’re going to do,” Sabrina said.

  “Clay?” Lance whispered.

  Clay felt relief sweep him. “Lance, you’re awake.”

  “The pain’s sort of interrupting my nap,” he rasped.

  “Can you walk?” Clay asked as he dropped beside his friend again.

  “Maybe. With some help.”

  “The bullet went straight through. I couldn’t tell if it hit anything terribly important on its way out.”

  “I guess the fact that I’m still alive says maybe not.”

  “Who shot you?” Jordan asked.

  Lance’s pained face doubled. “Not sure.” He looked at Clay. “There wasn’t any domestic disturbance. When I got to the address, I stepped out of my car and got hit. Next thing I know, you’re bending over me and I feel like someone’s run a hot poker through my side.”

  Clay and Jordan helped Lance to his feet. The man groaned but stayed upright.

  “Where’s the nearest phone?” Sabrina asked.

  “The Nelsons’ convenience store is about a mile ahead,” Clay said. “I worked there one summer when I was in high school.” The snow wasn’t deep. Yet. But it was cold.

  “If there’s any power,” Jordan muttered. He glanced around. “Look at the ice on the trees.”

  Clay looked at Jordan, then back at Lance. “We need to get Lance help and we need to get to a phone to call Ned as soon as possible.” His brow furrowed. “I’d send Jordan to call for help while I head for the ranch, but that’s going to take him a while and I don’t want to leave Lance here by himself.”

  “You can leave me. I’ll be all right.”

  “No way,” Clay said.

  “I could stay with him,” Sabrina said. “But I’m not sure you’ll make it to the ranch by yourself. What if you pass out or something?”

  Clay closed his eyes, having a hard time getting his brain to work. “And I don’t think I can help Lance by myself. I need Jordan.” He pressed a hand to his head and looked at the three of them. “I think our best plan is to stay together.” He glanced at his watch, then the darkening sky. “I would also say the party at the ranch is probably winding down and time is of the essence, so we need to go.”

  Lance grunted. “What’s the deal? Why are you guys up here?”

  Lance didn’t appear to know anything about his wife’s duplicity. “You’re not going to want to hear the truth.”

  His friend frowned. “About?”

  Clay sucked in a deep breath and caught Sabrina’s frown and slight shake of her head. “Looks like Stan Prescott and a partner are behind the meth lab. But we’re not going to worry about that now. We need to get you some help.” Clay and Jordan helped Lance to his feet and took a few tentative steps. “You going to make it?” he asked Lance.

  “Guess we’ll find out.”

  * * *

  The snow continued to fall as Sabrina watched the three men start walking. She looked at Jordan. Might as well ask the question she knew was foremost on Clay’s mind. “What happened the day Steven died?”

  “I had called Steven and told him I had evidence about a meth lab. Steven said he’d come get the evidence.”

  “Was that your pipe in your room?” She told him about seeing it the day she went to visit him and his siblings.

  “No way. I was done with that stuff. Trey gave it to me that day. I was going to throw it out, then thought it might be used for evidence. Trey was working with Krissy—”

  “Krissy?” Lance stumbled to a stop. Jordan and Clay held him upright. “What are you talking about?”

  Sabrina grimaced. “Krissy is Stan’s partner,” she told him quietly.

  Lance swayed. “No way. I don’t believe it.” He turned pained eyes on Sabrina. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because it’s true. I found evidence.”

  “What kind?”

  She told him, and he fell silent, his expression shattered. Sabrina’s heart broke for the man.

  Jordan’s gaze flitted between her and Lance. Lance pinned Jordan with a look. “Go ahead and finish what you were saying about Trey and Krissy working together. I want to hear it all.”

  Jordan bit his lip, then said, “I didn’t know it until later when they had me tied up in the barn and were talking about stuff. I even asked them questions and they were willing to fill me in.” He shuddered. “Even laughed while they told me stuff.” Terror crossed his face at the memory and Sabrina wanted to comfort him. “Before all that, I told Trey I was going to tell Steven about the meth lab. I told him I didn’t know who all was involved, but I had pictures.” He shifted Lance’s weight. Lance groaned but didn’t seem to have the strength to do more. Sabrina could tell he was getting weaker by the step. She wanted to lend her support but was afraid she’d just get in the way.

  Jordan said, “Trey came over just before Steven got to the house.”

  Lance groaned again and fell to his knees. Clay landed beside him and put his head in his hands. Jordan kept a tight grip on Lance to keep him from landing face-first in the snow. Sabrina grabbed him by the upper arms and lowered him gently to the ground.

  She knew the basics of first aid thanks to her social work training. She placed her fingers on Lance’s wrist. His pulse beat faint and unsteady. How was he even still conscious? “Are you going to be able to make it?” she asked softly.

  “The spirit is willing, but I’m afraid I may pass out.” His erratic breathing worried her, and Clay’s obvious weakness scared her. She tried not to worry about what might be happening at the Starke house. As long as there were still guests there, the family and the children should be all right. Krissy and Stan would bide their time, striking when they thought they wouldn’t get caught. The thought wasn’t much comfort. The time was passing quickly, and the temperature was dropping fast.

  “Help me up,” Lance
said. “We can’t stop now.”

  Clay got to his feet and pulled Lance’s arm across his broad shoulders while Jordan did the same on the other side. Sabrina felt helpless. “What can I do?”

  “Just stay close in case you have to catch one of us,” Clay muttered.

  Sabrina didn’t think he was joking.

  As they started off again, Jordan said, “When Trey showed up at the house, Steven hadn’t gotten there yet. Trey asked me if I still planned on talking to Steven. I said yeah, so when Steven got there, I told him everything and I gave him the pictures of the meth lab. He put them in the book he had in his pocket. Then Trey said he had to be somewhere and needed a ride. He suggested Steven take him while they talked.”

  “He didn’t have his truck?” Clay asked. Sabrina heard the thin thread of pain in his voice.

  “No. I’d picked him up on my motorcycle. Steven and Trey got in his car and left. I know Steven dropped Trey off because Steven called and told me he had to take Trey somewhere the next day and couldn’t meet me.” He gnawed on a fingernail and shook his head. “I think Trey must have set him up, told someone—probably Krissy—and she killed him,” he whispered. “I heard he was dead and I couldn’t believe it. I tried to find Trey but he was missing.” They were all listening to Jordan talk. Sabrina thought his story helped propel them onward through the falling snow, through the fatigue and the desire to just sit down and give up.

  Lance stumbled against Clay, who almost lost his balance. She thought Clay looked even more pale than he had five minutes ago. “Are you all right? Do we need to stop for a minute?”

  “I’m not feeling great, but I’ll make it.” Anxiety and worry for his family and the children were plainly etched into his handsome features. Sabrina knew exactly how he felt.

  On the next step, Clay tripped, caught himself and paused, swaying, his grip on Lance never lessening. Lance didn’t make a sound, just cringed. She wasn’t sure how he was staying vertical. Sabrina grabbed Lance’s arm and put it over her shoulders. “Let me do this for a while. You definitely have a concussion.”

  “No doubt about it, but there’s nothing to do about it until we make sure my family and the kids are safe.” Clay frowned at her. “He’s too heavy for you.”