48 Hour Lockdown (Tactical Crime Division Book 1)

by Carla Cassidy

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the G-men,” the chief said as they entered the building. “Come to tell us goodbye before you leave town?” He stood with two of his patrolmen just behind the reporting counter.

  “Just tying up some final things. Could we talk to you in your office?” Evan asked.

  “Sure, come on back.” He gestured for them to follow him into a small office with a desk and two chairs before it. “I’ll tell one of my boys to bring in a couple more chairs,” he said.

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Evan replied. “We won’t be here long.” He pulled the arrest warrant out of his pocket and tossed it on top of the desk.

  “What’s this?” Walter asked with a frown. He picked up the paperwork.

  “It’s a warrant for your arrest on a variety list of charges including conspiracy to commit murder and kidnapping, just to name a few,” Evan replied.

  “The hell you say.” Walter looked at him in shock and threw the paperwork back on the desk. “Is this come kind of a joke?”

  “It’s no joke, Walter,” Evan replied.

  “You aren’t taking me anywhere. This is all a big mistake,” Walter said, and then made a move toward his gun.

  Davis, Nick and Daniel drew their weapons. “Whoa.” Walter raised his hands above his waist. “I’m telling you this is all some kind of a terrible mistake.”

  “Walter, I need you to give me your weapon and your cell phone,” Evan said.

  “I’m telling you this is a load of crap.” Walter’s face flushed red. “I’m the chief of the police around here, not some damn criminal. You got this all wrong.”

  “You’ll have a chance to defend yourself in a court of law,” Davis said. He continued to tell Walter his rights under the law.

  “Walter, we can escort you out of here quietly without handcuffs, or we’ll do it the hard way. We don’t want to cause any drama in your police station, so why don’t you give me your gun and your phone and we’ll escort you out of here without the cuffs,” Evan said.

  Walter held Evan’s gaze for a long moment, and then sighed and appeared to crumple within himself. “Do you have any idea how much they pay me as a civil servant? I got tired of working my ass off to make small-town wages. Nobody was supposed to get killed.”

  He placed his gun and cell phone on the desk and then straightened. “I’d prefer to walk out of here without handcuffs.”

  They all walked out together, and Walter was placed in the backseat between Daniel and Nick. “I suppose Jacob is singing like a bird. I should have never trusted an idiot like him to begin with,” Walter said. “He’s the one who killed people...he and his crazy wife.”

  “We have agents in the area heading to your house to arrest your wife, as well,” Davis said.

  Walter straightened. “Please, she had absolutely nothing to do with this. I did it all. I knew she was friendly with Gretchen, and I knew Gretchen was married to Jacob. Rose didn’t do anything wrong. She was always trying to counsel Gretchen to do good things in her life, but Gretchen is a bad seed.”

  “Then your wife should be able to prove her innocence in a court of law,” Nick said.

  Walter fell silent and so did the others. Hendrick contacted Evan with a meeting point for other federal agents to take custody of Walter and take him to a facility where he would be arraigned and await trial.

  Once that was done, Davis dropped Evan back at Annalise’s place. He remained on the front porch for several minutes. With the crime completely cleared up, he had nothing left but his feelings for the woman who had been by his side throughout the whole ordeal.

  He had one final phone call to make, and then he knocked on her door and she opened it. “Thank God you’re safe and sound,” she said as she gestured him inside.

  “Everything went smoothly, and Walter and his wife are now in custody.”

  “So, your work here is done,” she replied as the two of them sank down on the sofa.

  “Not quite.”

  She looked at him quizzically. “What’s left?”

  He reached out and took one of her hands in his. “Annalise, you asked me if you could have a second chance, but I’ve been thinking and I’ve realized it’s me who should be asking you for a second chance.”

  He squeezed her hand tightly. “I screwed up, Annalise. I didn’t listen to you when you were telling me you were unhappy. I was too controlling because I was afraid I’d lose you. I was so afraid you’d be another person I loved with all my heart who would disappear and I’d never know what happened to you. I need you to give me a second chance to get it right. I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  “Oh, Evan.” She leaned forward and he captured her lips with his. This was the woman he wanted by his side. He wanted to brainstorm crimes with her. He wanted to cheer her on no matter where she worked or what she did, and he wanted to end each day with her in his arms.

  “We owe ourselves a second chance,” she said when the kiss ended. “There’s way too much love between us to let it go.”

  “I’m not letting it go. I’m not letting you go. I promise you this time around we’ll get it right. I’ll get it right,” he promised.

  “I’m going to hate telling you goodbye later this evening,” she said. “But at least I’ll be back in Knoxville for good in a couple of months.”

  “You don’t have to tell me goodbye tonight. I called Director Pembrook and told her I needed a week of vacation. So, if you’ll have me for the next seven days, I’ll be here.”

  She laughed, and her eyes lit with the sparkle that he’d always loved. “Oh Evan, I’ll definitely have you.”

  He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her once again, and in the kiss he knew he’d found his partner and his soulmate. This was one hostage situation he’d definitely gotten right for it had brought him back to the woman he loved.

  * * *

  Look for the next book in the

  Tactical Crime Division ensemble series—

  SECRET INVESTIGATION

  by Elizabeth Heiter.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Left to Die by Rita Herron.

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  Left to Die

  by Rita Herron

  Chapter One

  Keep running. One foot in front of the other. Don’t stop or he’ll get you.

  She touched her temple, where blood matted her hair. Her head throbbed. Her memory was fuzzy.

  The wind whistled, shrill and violent, through the tall pines, hemlocks and oaks. Tree branches shook and bent, cracking. Thick snowflakes blinded her as they swirled in the darkness.

  Where was she? How had she gotten here? Which way should she go?

  Why was he after her?

  She pawed her way through a cluster of pines. Everything looked the same. Endless trees so close together you couldn’t see past them. Snow. Fallen limbs. Wet leaves and brush.

  She pivoted, searching for a sign as to how to get to a road.

  Nothing but more trees. The mountains rising in front of her.

  Footsteps crunched behind her. Twigs snapped. A limb broke off and hurled to the ground in front of her. She stumbled and tripped over it, grasping for something to break her fall. Her hands hit the rough edges of an oak and bark scraped her already bloody palms. Her knees sank into the foot-deep snow. Her clothes were damp, freezing against her skin.

  She had no coat. No hat. No gloves.

  Shivering, she looked around for a place to hide. Some place he couldn’t find her.

  “It’s over!” a deep voice shouted. “You can’t escape.�
�

  No...she silently screamed. She had to get away. Instincts told her he’d kill her if he caught her.

  Ice clung to her hands and clothes as she shoved herself up. One foot. Another. She trudged forward. Ahead, a path wound to the left. Up a hill. Maybe it led to the road. Or at least to a shelter. A place to hide.

  An animal howled in the distance. A coyote? Bobcat?

  Bears also roamed these mountains.

  Another foot. Another. Her boot caught in a pile of weeds. Her ankle twisted and she lost her footing. She swayed and clawed for something to hold on to. Her nails dug into the bark of a thin pine, and she hugged it, gasping for breath.

  Another howl. Louder. Closer. A wolf?

  Trembling, she peered through the trees. There it was. A large gray wolf perched on a boulder ahead, its nose in the air, sniffing. Beady eyes darted across the land, searching for prey.

  Terror shot through her. If the man didn’t get her, the wolf might.

  Forcing herself to remain still so as not to invite an attack, she eased back a step. Clung to the trees. Footfalls light. Another step. Then another. No sound.

  Only the shrill wind again, and the wolf pawing at the rock.

  Tears clogged her throat. She had to stay calm. Breathe in and out. Keep moving. A few steps more, and she ducked behind a cluster of rocks to hide. Maybe she could wait him out.

  But the echo of footsteps crunched ice and brush again. She pushed up to run, but two gloved hands grabbed her. A big body behind her. Rough clothes. The scent of a man’s musky odor.

  “Let me go.” Determined to fight, she raised her arm and swung her elbow backward at an angle, but she missed.

  “I warned you that you couldn’t escape.” Something sharp and hard hit the back of her head. A gunshot followed, ringing in her ears.

  Pain ricocheted through her temple. Then the world went black, and she fell into the darkness.

  * * *

  ALL FLETCHER—FLETCH—MAVERICK wanted to do was enjoy a little bro time and then hit the sack. He’d been working double shifts the last two days. Ever since the big snowstorm had hit Whistler and the mountains, his search and rescue team had been on the clock.

  Warnings had been issued. People had been advised to stay in. Cancel their plans for hiking the trails. Stock up on food.

  That part the locals had listened to. The grocery stores had run out of milk, bread and bottled water. Battery pack phone chargers, generators, flashlights and batteries had flown off the shelves.

  Larry’s Liquor store had lines backed out the door.

  Still some people refused to stay home. As if the predicted five feet of snow and windchill temperatures below zero was propaganda the meteorologists had fabricated to stir up a frenzy at the stores.

  This time the weather forecasters had nailed it, though. Clouds started unleashing snow the night before, and it had been a constant downfall of white ever since.

  Trouble was weather forecasters missed so often that people didn’t pay attention or just blew them off. School closings for possible snow that turned into rain made the South a laughingstock in the national news.

  But this one was for real and had only just begun.

  Fletch sank onto a barstool at the high top across from his brothers, Jacob, Griff and Liam. He was so bone-weary he could barely muster a smile.

  “You look like hell,” the firefighter of the four, Griff, said.

  “I feel like it, too,” Fletch muttered as Liam poured him a beer from the pitcher on the table. Liam was with the FBI.

  Fletch’s mouth watered as his fingers gripped the mug. The beer was an IPA. His favorite.

  Jacob, the oldest of the four and Whistler’s sheriff, pounded Fletch’s back. “Good work finding those hikers yesterday.”

  Fletch took a sip from his mug, then snagged a wing from the platter and bit into it. “Glad we found them when we did.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Man broke his leg and needed medical assistance.”

  He reached for his beer again, but before he could take another swig, his phone buzzed on his hip. A quick glance at the number and he cursed. “Work.”

  His brothers traded grim looks as Fletch answered the call. “A family has been reported missing on the trail,” his boss, Captain Hanley, said. “I know you just got off duty, Fletch, but we’re slammed. Had two other calls. I need you to come in.”

  Fletch pushed his beer away, stood and clipped his phone back onto his belt. “Be right there.”

  “You have to go in?” Jacob asked.

  Fletch nodded. “Missing family.”

  Liam motioned for the waitress and asked her to bring a to-go box and a large sweet tea. “At least take some food with you. I know how these things go.”

  Fletch accepted the take-out food and tea, knowing his brother was right, then headed to the door.

  Thirty minutes later, he was geared up with his pack, and he and two fellow rangers, Todd and Danny, met at the beginning of the trail leading to Whistler Falls, where the family was supposed to be hiking.

  “Family’s named Patterson. A father, two boys, ages seven and nine,” Todd said. “They’re from south Georgia.”

  Where it was sunny and warm. They were definitely out of their element in this frigid mess.

  The family’s white Expedition was parked in the lot. The Appalachian Trail consisted of over two thousand miles of trails through the wilderness running from Georgia to Maine. Designated spots where hikers began their trek still required parking and hiking in. Throughout the states, lean-to shelters had been built to provide accommodations for emergencies, but were barely pieces of wood nailed together with one side open to the elements.

  Experienced hikers carried packs equipped with tents, food and water, emergency supplies, compasses, maps and tarps they tacked up over the open side of the shelter to ward off the wind when temperatures turned dangerous.

  Conditions were dangerous now. He hoped the Pattersons had had the good sense to come prepared.

  Danny pointed to the trail map, and they scrutinized it together. The areas had been marked with names and points along the way to guide hikers in planning their route and to keep them from getting lost and walking in circles. After a few miles, the trees and rocks all blended together.

  “There are two ways they could have gone to reach the falls from here,” Danny said. “East—”

  “Or west.” Todd gestured to the dark clouds. “Let’s divide up.”

  Fletch nodded. “You guys take the eastern section. I’ll head west.”

  They checked to make certain their radios were working, strapped on their packs, then pulled on gloves and hats and headed in opposite directions.

  The temperature was nineteen now and dropping, the precipitation from the night before freezing to ice. More snowflakes thickened the air, making visibility difficult. Protective goggles helped, but the fog of white swallowed the ridges and paths in the distance.

  Fletch used his flashlight to illuminate the ground, searching for footprints or signs the family had recently walked this way. An animal print here and there caught his eye, but no human prints.

  Every few feet he paused to listen for sounds of voices calling for help, and he yelled out as he climbed the hill. Wind howled from the ridges and peaks, the trees shivering as the gusts barreled through at record speed.

  His flashlight lit on something red on the ground. He stooped to examine it and decided it was blood. Could be from an injured animal.

  Or a person who needed help.

  He aimed his flashlight ahead and noted more blood dotting the snow. Enough to suspect the animal, or human, might be in serious trouble.

  Pulse pounding, he followed the blood trail up the incline and around a cluster of hemlocks. A branch lay on the ground, soaked in blood. He scanned the area, listening again. Nothing b
ut the shrill wind whipping through the forest and off the mountaintop.

  He panned the light in each direction, then spotted drag marks across the snow. Drag marks mingled with blood.

  His radio buzzed. “Located the Pattersons,” Todd said, his voice cracking with the static on the line.

  “Status?” Fletch asked.

  “Nine-year-old sprained his ankle, father has a bum knee, and the other boy is close to hypothermia. We’re warming them up, then going to get them back. I’ve already radioed it in. Medics will be waiting. Meet us at the car.”

  “No can do.” Fletch removed his battery-powered camera from his pack and snapped a picture of the blood trail and the indentations where the body had been dragged. “I found blood in the snow. Looks like drag marks from a human. I’m going to follow it.”

  “Dammit,” Todd said. “I’d help, but it’ll take both me and Danny to haul the family down.”

  “They’re our priority now. Get them to safety,” Fletch said. “I’ll let you know if I find something and need assistance.”

  “Copy that.” Todd hesitated. “Be careful, man.”

  “Always.” None of them liked to leave a coworker out here alone. But sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

  Besides, they’d trained for it. And no way could Fletch go home without determining the source of that blood and if it was human.

  * * *

  FACEDOWN IN THE SNOW, she roused from unconsciousness, dazed and confused. A dull throb occupied her head, making the trees spin.

  Wind knifed through her. Where was she? What was wrong with her?

  She mentally rifled through her fleeting memories for how she’d ended up here. But nothing made sense. Gunshots. Running. A fight. Blood...everywhere.

  Her name was... Wait, what was it?

  Panic seized her. What was her name?

  A sob caught in her throat. A foggy blur occupied the space where her memories were stored.