Hell Or High Water (Lost and Found, Inc.)

by Jerrie Alexander

  Nate parked in front of the small office space he’d rented in Richardson, a Dallas suburb. He opened the truck door and stepped out, freeing himself from the confines of his pickup.

  “Damn,” he muttered when his joints cracked and popped as he stretched his torso. The rapid round of fire shooting through his knee got the blood flowing to his brain.

  He locked the door behind him, dropped the AC to sixty degrees, and then fired up the motel-size coffeepot.

  Note to self, next time rent an office closer to a coffeehouse.

  The small front lobby with an office to the side was perfect for his needs. If this place had a shower, he’d live here. Eventually, if he decided to do more than government contract work, he’d pick a name as Tyrell suggested and hang a sign out front. For now, he was content the private detective business was up and running.

  After the incident in the morgue parking lot, he’d driven the Harley to his office and parked it inside. Leaving it outside unprotected wasn’t an option. When he wasn’t riding the Hog, he’d prop his laptop on the handlebars and use the bike for a desk chair. He’d buy more furniture one of these days.

  He used the bathroom, splashed water on his face, poured a coffee, and then slung his leg over the bike. When his computer booted up, he dug out the information Tyrell had given him and ran a search on Hank Walsh. Kaycie probably had intel, but Nate didn’t figure she’d be open to sharing with him. Didn’t matter. He preferred to do his own fact-finding. Know your enemy better than your friends. Safer that way. He’d research the dead girl’s family next.

  For thirty bucks, Nate had subscribed to a service that allowed him to access the details of nearly anybody’s life. It required nothing more than a few keystrokes. The Walsh name provided him with tons of financial facts. Hank’s dad, being a transportation and logistics mogul, drew plenty of media attention. On the board of two major charities, a library, and a children’s hospital, Anthony Walsh’s wealth could buy a lot of silence. Kaycie was convinced the girl had been murdered. The old man had probably spoiled his kid to the point he believed himself to be above the law.

  Hank’s background read like a rap sheet. In and out of drug rehab, traffic tickets for DUI, kicked out of college for cheating. His current employment showed to be Walsh FasTrak Transportation, a division of Walsh Enterprise, Inc.

  Works for Daddy. Imagine that.

  The kicker was his current probation. He’d pled out on an attempted sexual assault charge three years ago, trading jail time for a healthy fine and five years probation. Anthony Walsh’s baby boy would have the rest of his sentence tacked on if found guilty of rape within the next two years.

  However, if found guilty of murder, Hank would hang around on death row for years while his appeals ran their course, but the state would eventually give the victim’s family closure—via lethal injection. Seemed like a waste of time and money to Nate. Thirty-eight cents for a bullet was cheaper and quicker. Any man who’d hurt a woman didn’t deserve more.

  If Nate proved Hank had hurt Kaycie, the state might not have to pay for a trial.

  Next, he read up on Leann Vaughn and her family. A hard-nosed Baptist preacher, Harold had spoken to all manner of media after his daughter’s disappearance. No keeping her name a secret, her picture had been on every newspaper and TV in the state. Leann’s mother stood next to her father in every picture, clinging to his arm. Eyes sunk back in her head and lips turned downward, Patricia Vaughn appeared to be on her last leg.

  With all his research, Nate saw nothing to indicate Hank Walsh was anything more than a sleaze-bag rapist. Human trafficking or murder would be a hard rap to hang on him.

  A dead girl. Two attempts to kidnap Kaycie. Hell, none of it made sense. If she had learned too much, why snatch her? Why not just kill her too? One well-placed shot and their problem would be solved.

  Nate turned his attention to locating Marcus. Finding his phone number didn’t take long. Always the quiet one of the group, Marcus hadn’t changed in that regard. He wasn’t forthcoming with his personal information, but he readily agreed to help out. Through the entire call, he didn’t mention his dead wife and neither did Nate.

  Nate rubbed sleep-deprived eyes with the heels of his hands. He hadn’t planned on looking up Kaycie. The past was better left dead. Those days were gone, just as he would be when the next job came in. Until then, he was her bodyguard.

  He saved everything he’d found on the Walsh family and the Vaughn case to a flash drive. Having second thoughts, he made hard copies then tossed the lot into an old leather briefcase.

  He dragged his tired ass out to his pickup. He’d driven away from Kaycie’s apartment worried. Now it had blossomed to full-blown concern for her life. He drove away with a gnawing foreboding in his gut.

  Chapter 6

  Most of Kay’s neighbors had left for work, leaving the parking lot with only a few cars. So why, standing under the morning sun, did she feel like a bug under a microscope? If she whirled around, would somebody be right behind her?

  She dropped her hand to her hip. The Glock 22 riding there gave her a measure of comfort.

  She hurried to catch up with Holly, who waited next to her car. Holly wore blue slacks with a matching blouse. Red parrots dangled from her neck and ears. Her blond hair, tied in a ponytail, sported a red streak coordinated to match the birds. Kay glanced down at her gray slacks, ivory short-sleeve blouse and lightweight black linen blazer. The word drab came to mind. Her only jewelry, the Saint Jude medallion, rested hidden above her breasts.

  “I’m not sure we should go to this funeral,” Holly protested.

  “I have to. Stop making me feel guilty for dragging you along with me.”

  “Like Tyrell said, where you go, I go.”

  “And I appreciate you. Really. But you shouldn’t have to be my private taxi. After the funeral, I need to stop by the police station. I’ll call Tomas. Ask if he can drive me.”

  Holly dug her car keys out of her ten-gallon purse and shook them at Kay. “Get in.”

  Kay almost laughed at her friend, because secretly Holly was probably getting a kick out of being the boss. “Tyrell should call you Little Mama, not me.”

  “Thanks, but I’d rather he called me to bed.”

  Normally, Kay would’ve laughed at the innocent blue eyes behind such a sexual innuendo. Would she ever find anything funny again?

  “If you want him, do something about it.”

  “No need to get pissy. You want us to fall in love. I’m only interested in his body.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I should never meddle in affairs of the heart.” Kay didn’t want to argue. Romance seemed like a really inappropriate topic today.

  Her skin prickled suddenly. No doubt about it this time. Somebody’s eyes were trained on her, giving her the weird sensation of being naked. Kay did another visual sweep of the parking lot. Nothing. Damn. Between Tyrell and Holly, Kay was jumping at shadows.

  She’d reassessed her situation over the weekend. Admittedly, she’d been careless at the morgue. Since then, she’d been on high alert.

  Kay had barely buckled her seat belt when her cell buzzed. Einstein’s picture on the tiny screen smiled up at her.

  “Hey, Papa. I hoped I’d hear from you today.”

  “Morning, Kaycie. You visit your folks this weekend?” His tone gave no hint of his ruling on Leann’s death.

  “I didn’t. Ran out of time.” She hated to lie to him. She didn’t tell him about almost being kidnapped in the morgue parking lot. He would only worry himself sick.

  “I think if you’d make the first move, your dad will come around.”

  He wanted the riff repaired between Kay and her dad, Papa’s son. It was one she didn’t know how to fix short of bringing her twin brother, Kevin, back to life. This conversation was repetitive and futile.

  “Apparently, you worked too.” She moved off the subject. “The body was released yesterday afternoon. Her funeral’s
at ten this morning.”

  “You were in a hurry for answers. I got everything I needed from the girl. Saw no need to make the family wait.”

  She leaned back in the seat. The quickening of her heartbeat thumped under the medallion while she waited for the news.

  He continued, “Preliminary lab results confirmed your young woman had traces of ketamine in her system. Not something she’d be given by her doctor and not a drug we’d normally have tested for. I wouldn’t have looked if you hadn’t doubted that she’d committed suicide. Therefore, my ruling is homicide.”

  The stomach acid churning in her stomach rose to the back of her throat.

  “It’s of no comfort, but she didn’t realize what was happening. Someone slashed her wrist after the drug was administered.”

  Kay’s throat clamped shut. The ugliness and the horror of the crime flooded her with guilt and anger. “Oh, God. She was just a kid.”

  “I’ve informed the appropriate parties of my finding. Her case is with the Dallas Homicide Unit.”

  She shifted the elephant sitting on her chest to the side. “Thank you for working all weekend. I know exactly who killed her. After I prove it, the state of Texas will stick a needle in his arm for murder.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he barked out the admonition. “This girl was murdered. Step back and let the police earn their keep.”

  His words sounded harsh and flat, but Kay understood he wasn’t angry with her. He dealt in death every day. He honored and respected the people who unfortunately found themselves on his table. However, Papa was a realist. He had to separate himself from the pain and despair families of the deceased went through.

  He was wasting his breath lecturing her. She’d never step back as he suggested. Not on this case.

  “I knew this girl was too strong-willed to have killed herself.” Relief washed over her. “Thank you, Papa. I owe you big time.”

  Kay disconnected before he told her how she could repay him.

  “I’ll ask one more time,” Holly said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Kay glanced out the window and discovered they were parked in front of the church. She’d gotten so lost in her own misery she’d blocked out the drive.

  ****

  The lush green grass and full-leafed trees gave the cemetery an eerie feel. Kay couldn’t help but compare the vivid colors with the dry, brown leaves of summer seen elsewhere in the city. She stopped just outside the blue tent covering the coffin.

  “Tell me again why we’re here,” Holly whispered. “The church services were hard enough on you. Coming to the cemetery is above the call of duty.”

  Holly’s words barely penetrated Kay’s subconscious. She’d sat in the back of the church, unable to face the lifeless body of the young girl who’d given Kay her trust. Coward.

  “I didn’t have the nerve to give the Vaughn family my condolences. I’ll do it now.” Kay stepped closer. Her hand paused at her belt. She’d locked her gun in the glove box before entering the church. Even though it was legal to carry in her position, she’d never been comfortable wearing it. Now, she missed the weight riding on her hip.

  After she paid her respects, she’d casually take a look around. It wasn’t uncommon for the perpetrator to show up at the cemetery to enjoy watching his kill being buried. Some sick bastards fed off the grief and loss they’d inflicted on the victim’s family. Yeah, a discreet check for someone lurking, watching from the background was in order. If nothing else, she’d snap a few pictures with her cell and share them with police.

  A wave of whispers drifted across the small group when a chair toppled backward and Leann’s mother rushed from under the canopy toward Kay.

  “How dare you show your face,” Mrs. Vaughn screamed. Her expression was a study in anger. “Go away. You’re not welcome here.”

  Stunned into silence, Kay felt her jaw drop. She’d never been this dumbfounded. Harold Vaughn rushed to his wife, gathering her in his arms just as the woman collapsed. His red-rimmed eyes and trembling chin reflected his pain.

  “I’m sorry,” Kay managed to whisper, welcoming Holly’s arm around her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”

  “This is your fault.” Mr. Vaughn held his sobbing wife closer. “Our daughter wanted to forget what happened, wanted to move on. You pressured her, convinced her to testify. You’re as guilty as the bastard who took her from us.”

  Hate radiated from his every pore. Kay’s heart caved inside her chest at the agony gushing from him. She couldn’t find words to convey her feelings. Holly’s grip tightened, and Kay allowed herself to be led away from the gathering crowd.

  “I hope you burn in hell,” Mr. Vaughn screamed.

  Kay fished out her sunglasses, anything to help hide the shame.

  The Vaughns’ anger was appropriately placed. Kay would carry the burden of the teenager’s death forever.

  A chill slammed into her. Again, somebody’s eyes on her sent a shiver up her arms. She whirled.

  A black Harley was parked down the block. She paused at the rear of the car and stared at the rider. Odd that he’d parked away from the funeral crowd and watched from a distance. Damn, the black visor didn’t stop the burn as his gaze bore down on her. Her breath caught. Was this the man who’d saved her? Wearing a black leather jacket and matching helmet, the man remained motionless.

  She started toward him, and the rider stepped off the bike. If this was her ninja, she’d demand answers after she thanked him. He turned his back to her and then removed the helmet. His fingers wound through shoulder-length black hair, tying the strands together with a piece of leather. There was something vaguely familiar about him. His movements. His shoulders. His hands.

  He turned to face her, and her heart rate hit the ozone.

  “Hello, Kaycie.”

  Ten years of missing Nate Wolfe boiled over. He was here. Really here. She sprang into his arms, clutched his broad shoulders and leaned into his hard-as-a-rock chest. God, his scent, a mixture of leather, woodsy cologne and virile man washed over her. Damn. Her body betrayed her by melting into him.

  “Nate,” she whispered into his neck. “You saved me.” Her flesh heated when his large hands flexed against the small of her back and drew her closer.

  “Come hell or high water,” he whispered, his warm breath sending heat streaks across her skin.

  A split second passed before memories of his lying tongue using that same phrase so many years ago hit her. A volcano of heartbreak erupted and spewed forth.

  “Don’t touch me,” she spit the words at him while scrambling out of reach. “And don’t you dare say that to me. Ever.”

  “You hugged me.” His eyes went wide, and he held his hands up in surrender.

  Damn him and his Cheshire cat grin. Kay plowed her right fist into his jaw. God, pain shot up her arm. His head barely moved. Still, she relished the snap of his teeth. He rubbed his scruffy jaw while that sexy little smile inched right back up his cheeks.

  “Why are you following me?” Her knuckles hurt like hell, but he’d never know.

  “What?” He held his hands in front of him, palms up. “No ‘good to see you, Nate’? No ‘how you been?’ No nothing.”

  “I’ll try this again, slower. Why. Are. You. Fol—”

  “We need to talk.” The fun had left his gaze. The sparkle dimmed to seriousness.

  She stepped further away and sent him a glare designed to blister his flesh from head to toe. Unaffected, he picked up the cell phone earpiece she’d knocked off and reattached it to his ear while never taking his navy-blue eyes off her.

  “No, we don’t. Thank you for saving my life. Now do what you do best. Go away.” She spun on her heel. Rubbing her now-swelling hand, Kay stalked straight to her waiting friend.

  “You okay?” Holly asked over the top of the car before she slid behind the wheel.

  “If I didn’t break my fist on his cement jaw, I will be.” Kay stabbed her seat belt a second time b
efore fastening it properly. She cursed the tears welling. Cursed the feel his warm body imprinted on her breasts. Cursed the memories that sent her heart spinning.

  Holly dropped her .380 in her purse.

  “Did you take that into church this morning?”

  “Hell yeah. God knows I carry. And the law gave me a permit. Glad I had it, because I didn’t know what the hell was going down when you hit him. Who’s the hunk?”

  “Nate Wolfe.”

  “Holy shit. The guy from college?”

  “The same. He’s been watching me. I’m sure of it.”

  “I should’ve shot him.” Holly punched the gas pedal, ignoring the speed bumps.

  “Thanks for having my back. And for getting the concealed carry license.”

  “I’m never without protection. Or a gun.” Holly chuckled at her own joke. “Where to?”

  “Home.”

  ****

  The cemetery wasn’t the place to argue, there’d be plenty of time for that later. Nate threw his leg over the Harley and let Kaycie and her blond friend drive away. Hell or high water had popped out of his mouth. First time in ten years the phrase had crossed his mind. He’d made matters worse by pulling out an old memory. Who knew she’d react violently?

  Made no difference. Somebody intended her harm, and he’d be there to prevent it.

  From the corner of his eye, he detected movement. The Mercedes that had followed her from the church was pulling away from the curb. No way was this bastard tagging along after the women.

  Nate rode up beside the car at a stop sign and knocked on the window. He doubted the occupant would start trouble out in the open.

  “You wouldn’t be tailing those two women. Would you?” He spoke to the dark-tinted glass. “Why don’t I tag along with you for a while?”

  The driver drove backward a few hundred feet, executed a U-turn, and then drove off. Nate was right behind. After a few miles, he sped down an exit, leaving the Mercedes with no idea where Kaycie had gone. Problem was, he didn’t know either. At least her blond bodyguard was with her.