by Carolina Mac
DARLENE’S HEAD THROBBED, and it felt swollen where that asshole had hit her with the butt of her own gun. She couldn’t remember anything after that. Where am I? This wasn’t Sid’s trailer. She was lying on dirt—a cold dirt floor in a dark place that stunk. Stunk like what?
She had to pee and couldn’t move. Her hands and feet were tied so tight they’d gone numb. Her arms were behind her back and she was laying on them. The one Sid broke, hurt like hell. The pain shooting through it brought tears to her eyes. Trussed up like a turkey with a broken wing—ready for the oven. Shit.
Her throat was parched and scratchy but she tried to yell anyway—no sound came out—just a muffled groan. Gag in her mouth. It smelled like an old gun cleaning rag from her daddy’s’ store and tasted disgusting. Hoppes oil, number nine. She was sure of it. She thought of her brother, Tommy and wished he was here to help her. He’d always helped her all through school when she’d started fights she couldn’t win. Her big brother would jump in and save her.
Who would save her now?
Would Rob try to help me? Probably glad I’m gone.
Where had Sid dumped her? Was this the building Rob had found? She tried to roll over and couldn’t move.
The door squeaked open and somebody came in. She couldn’t see him from where she was, but the chains clunked on his boots with every step. As he came closer, she could smell him. Did these assholes ever take a shower?
“Yeah, she’s awake,” he hollered. Then he laughed. “Time for some fun, Red.”
ROB HAD SMOKED half a pack by the time the black SUV rolled up in front of Grace’s trailer and parked. Two tall dudes in matching dark suits that could have been fuckin twins strode across the lawn like they meant business. “Your buddy is here.”
Grace brushed past Rob without a word and opened the door with a big smile on her face, “Anson, thanks so much for coming.” She motioned towards the living area. “Have a seat and I’ll get you a coffee.”
The guy she called Anson grabbed her in a hug and Rob wanted to kill him with his own gun. He could see the bulge under the suit. It would have been so fuckin easy. He rammed his right hand into the pocket of his jeans and gave his head a shake—this wasn’t Millhaven.
“This is my partner, Special Agent Valdez.”
“Nice to meet you,” Grace shook his hand, “This is my husband, Rob Eastman.”
Oh, fuck, Gracie.
Rob jerked his hand out of his pocket and shook with both men. The Prescott dude eyed him with interest as they all made themselves comfortable in the living room. Grace went into the kitchen for the coffee and Prescott followed her with his eyes.
Make a move on her, fucker, and you’re dead.
“Want to fill me in on your problem?” Anson gave Rob the once over, like all cops did.
The long hair, the tats—they all treated him the same way—less than human. It had always been that way. Grace was the only one who was different.
Rob related all the details he had, and when he told the story out loud it sounded a little sketchy.
Valdez mulled over the information and said, “You think there’s a meth lab in the woods across the river operated by a biker gang. And you think there’s corruption in the Dry Springs Sheriff’s office and certain officers are giving the bikers protection.”
Rob nodded. “That’s my take on it.”
“But you have no hard evidence.”
“They took Darlene,” Rob was on his feet. “That’s my hard evidence. She’s a cop and an aggressive one. She could already be dead.”
“Let’s go get her,” said Anson. He turned to Grace. “Do you have a spot where we could change?”
“Sure,” said Grace, “I’ll show you.”
“I’ll get our gear,” said Valdez and headed for the SUV.
This should be good. With these two TV cops watching my back, I might as well be alone.
JOEY SAT IN his high chair eating a cookie with an unhappy looking Grace sitting next to him. The agents emerged from the back bedroom, dressed in jeans, hiking boots and black nylon jackets with ‘DEA’ plastered across their backs in big white letters.
Rob kissed Grace and Joey and said, “Lock the door behind us, Gracie, and don’t let Ted out. He’ll follow me, and he’s already been shot once today.”
“They shot your dog?” asked Anson.
“The bullet grazed his ear,” said Grace. “He’s okay.”
“Still, it shows they’re violent and don’t want to be discovered,” said Valdez.
“Be careful,” Grace called from the kitchen.
As they started their trek across the back grass to the path behind Sid’s trailer, Anson asked, “How long have you and Grace been married?”
Here it comes.
“Five years at Christmas,” mumbled Rob.
Shit, he’s trying to figure it out.
“Five years? It’s odd she never mentioned you.”
“She never mentioned you, either,” said Rob, and took off down the path at a jog.
Rob stopped at the narrow footbridge over the Guadaloupe and waited for the agents to catch up. The way they were panting for breath, told him running wasn’t one of their usual day to day activities—pounding keys on a laptop was more likely. But he could be wrong—he’d been wrong before.
And look how that turned out.
“Watch your step. Some of the boards are rotting.”
“Okay, thanks,” said Valdez, and led the way across. On the other side of the river, Valdez stared at the solid wall of trees in front of him. “Which way from here?”
“Left,” said Rob. “I’ll show you.” Dusk was falling as he led the agents through the dense bush towards the meth lab. Swarms of mosquitos were out in full force, searching for an inch of human skin where they could draw blood. Dozens of frogs croaked in chorus along the river bank, and in the branches overhead, the cicadas buzzed over the lingering heat.
As they trudged through the woods, everything seemed the same and yet it wasn’t. Rob could smell the river and the pine trees, but that was all he could smell. Nothing cooking.
They came into the clearing and the two agents drew their weapons as they approached the building. “Feels deserted,” said Anson. “I’ll take the back.”
Valdez nodded. “I’ll wait until you’re in place.”
Rob stood to the side, the hair on his arms prickling.
Where was Darlene? Had they already killed her?
“Clear,” hollered Anson from inside. Then he opened the door and let Valdez and Rob in. “Nothing here. The place is empty.”
“Empty?” Rob glanced around in disbelief. Four walls and a dirt floor.
“These meth labs are fairly portable,” said Anson. “They know they may have to move any time, so they’re ready.” He waved an arm around. “Chances are good that they have an alternative location and are already up and running.”
“But why did they move today?” asked Rob, “They didn’t know you were coming.”
Anson tilted his head to one side, “That may not be exactly true. My boss might have alerted the local sheriff that he was sending a unit.”
“Oh, fuck.” Rob turned and walked away from them.
“Yep,” said Valdez, “but that gives a bit of credence to your theory, Rob. If they were operating yesterday and gone today, somebody knew we were coming and passed it along.”
“Get a local crime scene unit in here and see if they can pick up a trace of the girl,” said Anson. “I’m sure we can pick up a hair or two from her vehicle if there is anything in the building to match to.”
Rob nodded.
“We’ll secure the site,” said Anson, “You go back and stay with Grace, and as soon as the team arrives from San Antonio, would you show them where we are?”
“Yep.” Rob left the agents staring at an empty building with four blank walls.
WHEN ROB ARRIVED back at the trailer, Grace had dinner ready. “Where are Anson and his partner?” she ask
ed.
“At the building. The bikers stripped it down and took everything with them.”
“Any sign of Darlene?”
“Not a trace. Your buddy, called for a forensic unit and I’m supposed to show them where to go when they get here.”
“He’s not my ‘buddy’, Robbie. He’s a man who provided information for my last book. And that’s all he is. It’s not like you to be jealous like this.” Grace turned back to the stove and mumbled, “You know how much I hate it.”
“Sorry, baby. I’m going a bit nuts right now.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, and I’m worried about Darlene too, after seeing Sid Cowan in action.” Grace shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said that. Only makes you think the worst.”
“I never met him, but he was rough with you, and look how easily he killed your neighbor just to make a point.”
“Sit down and eat. It might be a long night for you.”
Rob blew out a breath and eased onto a chair at the kitchen table. “Yeah, I guess I could eat. What did you make?”
“Sheppard’s pie.”
“I love that,” said Rob. “Sorry about earlier. I freaked when you told the agents my real name.”
“Did I?” asked Grace. “Didn’t realize I did. Sorry, baby.” She circled his neck with both arms and kissed him. “I would never do anything to hurt you. You’re my life, sweetheart.”
“I know. And I’ve been touchy. All I can think of is Darlene lying dead somewhere—and it’s my fuckin fault.”
“Not true. You didn’t make her investigate on her own. She made that decision herself.”
“Still, she wouldn’t have been here if she never met me.”
“You tried to make her go back,” said Grace as she took hot biscuits out of the oven.
“Hard-headed cop mentality,” he muttered.
“Should you call her brother? You mentioned him once—where you bought the gun?”
“Fuck, yeah,” Rob set his fork down, “I’ve gotta call Tommy Steele.” He stepped away from the table and called the number on the gun receipt. It was still in his wallet.
He got an answering machine that told him the store was closed for the day. He explained who he was and left a number. When he returned to the table, he pushed his plate away. “Sorry, Gracie, I can’t eat.”
Grace stroked his hair. “Something will turn up in the building, if she was there. I’m sure of it.”
“If she went into Sid’s trailer, like Ted said she did, they should check there too.”
“Anson will think of that.”
“Jesus, Grace, by the time those assholes follow the book and get something done, I might fuckin lose it.”
Grace kissed his neck and tried to placate him. “Let’s have a beer and try to relax.”
“Yeah, I’ll have a beer with you, baby.” He took Grace in his arms and kissed her. “I’ve been neglecting you the past couple of days. I’ll make it up.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. “That might be the forensic’s people,” said Grace, breaking away from Rob.
“Shit, I almost forgot they were coming,” he winked at Grace. “I’ll take them to the lab.”
Rob introduced himself to the man and woman carrying kits and told them the DEA agents were waiting on the scene. “Do you have flashlights?”
“Yep,” said the male who called himself, Jeff. “We’ve got just about everything.
Rob turned on his light, rounded Grace’s trailer and showed them the way.
THE TWO DEA Agents, Prescott and Valdez, had turned on every light inside and outside the steel building. Valdez stood outside the door smoking while Anson Prescott paced.
Stress showed in Prescott’s face, but he held out a cordial hand to the techs. “You made good time. Thanks for coming.”
“No problem,” said the female on the team, “what have we got to work with?”
“Not a helluva lot,” said Valdez. He pulled the door open and a keening sound bit through the air. “Help yourself.”
Rob left the cops there and retraced his steps over the Guadaloupe and back to Grace’s trailer. On the way past Sid’s trailer he hopped up the two steps at the back and tried the door. Unlocked.
He thought better of barging in unprepared, wiped the knob with his shirt tail and went next door. Grace came down the hall from Joey’s room to let him in. He stood on the step and asked, “Do you have any latex gloves I could use, babe?”
“For what?”
“I want to look around Sid’s trailer.”
“You can’t break in. What if they find out?”
Rob whispered, “The back door is unlocked.”
“Uh huh. Let me check the bathroom. I might have a pair.” Grace returned with a blue pair she used for cleaning. “Be careful. Do you have your phone with you?”
Rob nodded.
“If Anson comes back here, I’ll text you and you come home.”
“Okay, thanks.”
ROB DIDN’T RISK turning a light on in Sid’s trailer in case it could be seen from the road. He poked around in the dark, using his flashlight only when he had to.
He wrinkled his nose as he walked the length of the trailer. It smelled dirty and musty—a bad mix of smoke, beer and dirty bikers.
The front room looked like a war zone. Table upside down, dirty dishes and beer bottles littered everywhere. A fight had taken place here—a big one. Darlene was hurt. He was sure of it now. What had Sid done to her? How many more were with him?
Rob pointed the light down at the green linoleum, looking for blood. Didn’t see any spots or splashes. He needed daylight. Try again in the morning.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ROB TOSSED AND TURNED most of the night. He dozed off a couple of times, but couldn’t settle. Every time he rolled over, Grace stirred. Shit, he was going to wake her up. He stole out of bed and padded barefoot to the kitchen.
What the hell could he do to speed things up?
He pulled back the blue drapes on the front window and the sight of the orange Jeep sitting there in the gray light of dawn, made his heart pound. Fuck, I wish this wasn’t real.
Wonder if those dicks found anything in the building? Should I go out there?
Rob hadn’t heard him cross the room, but Ted brushed against his leg. “Need to go out, boy?”
Ted wagged and started towards the door.
“Wait until I grab a pair of jeans.” Rob picked up his clothes and dressed silently in the bathroom so he wouldn’t wake Grace. At the door, he stuck his feet in the new runners that were almost wrecked already from the bush and the mud of the river bank.
He snapped Ted’s leash on his collar and closed the front door quietly behind them, making sure it was locked. Six a.m. and already warm outside. The early morning dew had almost dried as they trudged across the grass behind the two trailers.
Shit, I need to cut the fuckin grass. What kind of a husband am I? Not a good one, that’s for damn sure.
Once on the path, Ted’s sensitive nose was close to the ground. He homed in on a scent and picked up speed. “Hey, wait for me, boy. I don’t want to run.” Rob pulled up on the leash, stopped and coughed. “Jesus, I was in better shape in fuckin Millhaven.”
Ted mounted the bridge without hesitation and tugged Rob across to the other side. The path to the building was worn down, and seemed wider with all the traffic of the past couple of days. Branches were snapped off and strewn in the path, leaves littered the ground and covered the thick bed of pine needles underfoot.
The meth lab was deserted. Sealed all the way around with yellow tape and abandoned.
Wonder if they found anything? Guess they don’t feel the need to tell me.
Rob and Ted circled the building and stopped at the spot where he’d seen the bikers loading the four-wheeler. He peered into the bush looking for a dirt track that led away from the building.
They had to get the goods out of here somehow.
Rob d
ropped Ted’s leash to begin his search deeper into the trees. Ted ran back to the corner of the building, sniffing around, tail wagging. He began digging with his front paws and shooting dirt out behind him like a mad dog.
“We got no time for digging, Ted. Rob searched behind the building, pushing branches aside and getting swatted in the face by prickly pine branches. His discomfort paid off. He found a worn-down two-track that appeared to go nowhere.
“Let’s follow this trail.” He turned around, looked for Ted and Ted had something in his mouth. Rob took it, wiped off the dirt and the dog slobber and realized what it was. An ID Badge from Mineral Wells—Darlene’s badge.
Rob bent forward and fought back the urge to hurl. “Jesus, Ted, she’s fuckin dead.” He straightened up and patted Ted’s head. “Good boy.” He shoved the badge in his pocket and blew out a breath.
What did those fuckers do with her? Did they bury her, like her badge? Nope, they’d use her first—all of them. For how long? Days maybe. That was the part he didn’t want to think about.
“Come on, Ted. Let’s go for a walk.” Rob headed into the trees to follow the track. Ted seemed to be up for it and had more energy than Rob. The dog took the lead and ran way out in front. “Slow down, Ted. I’ll lose you in here.” They started off at a jog, and after the first mile, slowed down to a walk. “Shit, how far is the nearest road, Ted?”
Ted’s only answer was to keep pushing forward.
Another mile, the woods thinned out and the trail ended at what looked like a laneway through a farm. Fenced on both sides and well-used. Wide enough for a tractor or truck.
The field in Rob’s view held a herd of cattle. He didn’t know if they were cows or bulls or something in between.
Wonder who owns this property?
He called Ted and headed back the way they’d come. “Now we know how they were getting their product out, Ted. Next, we need to find where in hell they moved their operation.”
GRACE HAD BREAKFAST ready when Rob and Ted returned. He kicked his mud-encrusted trainers off at the door and plunked down on a kitchen chair.
“Where were you guys?” asked Grace.
