Tracking Justice (Texas K-9 Unit)

by Shirlee McCoy

  Do it yourself, hon. Whatever it is you want to accomplish, make sure you don’t ever count on anyone else to help you achieve it.

  She could hear her mother’s words echoing from the past, and she walked to the bed, picked up the large, plush dog that Arianna had dropped there and placed it on one of the two chairs that sat near the window. It was just like Arianna to offer something so ostentatious. She enjoyed her status as benevolent benefactress when it suited her. Not that she wasn’t a good boss; she was simply a demanding one.

  “Nice dog.” Austin touched the stuffed dog’s head. “Food would be nicer. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. How about I get us both something from the cafeteria?”

  “I’m not very hungry.”

  “Which means you are a little hungry.” Austin smoothed his dark hair and offered a tired smile. He had circles under his eyes and the shadow of a beard on his jaw, and she could lose herself in his smile if she let herself.

  “You go ahead and eat, but I’m fine.”

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He left the room, left her just the way she’d thought she wanted to be—alone.

  It didn’t feel as good as she wanted it to.

  She lifted the big white dog, hugged it to her chest, fighting back tears that she had no business shedding. Brady was safe. The police had promised to make sure he stayed that way.

  They’d also promised to find her parents’ killer.

  She didn’t want to think about that, or about what it might mean if they didn’t follow through on their newest promise.

  She wouldn’t allow herself to imagine that Austin might somehow make things turn out differently than they had before. He seemed like a nice guy, a caring one. A person who could be depended on.

  That didn’t mean that she would depend on him.

  Brady was her responsibility—his well-being, his emotional health, all of it resting squarely on her shoulders. She couldn’t risk his life or happiness on the hope that someone would help them. Just had to keep going on the way she had been, doing the best she could on her own.

  SEVEN

  Austin nodded to the police officer stationed outside Brady’s door and walked down the hall. A bank of elevators stood across from the nurses’ station, and he pressed the call button, waiting impatiently for the door to open.

  He was hungry, tired and oddly anxious to return to Brady’s room. It might have had something to do with Eva’s misty green eyes and her soft smile.

  “Austin!” Slade McNeal called out, and Austin pivoted, saw his boss hurrying down the hall toward him.

  “I didn’t realize you were here.”

  “It’s where all the action is, so I guess it’s the place to be,” he said wryly.

  “How is your father doing?”

  “The same. Still in a coma but holding his own.”

  “I’m sorry, Slade. You know that I’m praying for him.”

  “I appreciate it.” Slade smoothed his hair, which was just beginning to gray. The captain had been through a lot in the past few years, and it showed, but his passion for his job and his son hadn’t changed. “Good job tracking Brady Billows. How is he doing?”

  “He’s exhausted and bruised, but there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him that time won’t heal.”

  “Glad to hear it. I got a call from internal affairs about a half hour ago.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You should get cleared to return to work late tomorrow or the following day. In the meantime, Lee will work any leads we get on your cases. He’ll keep you posted.”

  “Right now, Brady is the only lead we have. He witnessed the attack on your father and saw Rio being put into a van.”

  “My father said ‘bay’ before he lost consciousness. It’s possible that he saw Brady and was trying to let us know that there was a witness.”

  “Knowing what we know now, I’d say it’s more than possible. Was Lee able to find Jane Doe?”

  “She was transported to the hospital about an hour ago. Lee tried to interview her, but she’s barely lucid and says she doesn’t know who she is or where she’s from.”

  “You checked fingerprints and missing-persons reports?”

  “Her fingerprints don’t match anyone in the system. No one fitting her description has been reported missing. She may as well have fallen out of the sky.”

  “One more cog in the wheel, huh?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  The elevator door opened and they stepped in.

  “Are you heading home?” Austin asked.

  “I have to. My son isn’t doing well with Rio gone. He was up half the night crying, and the babysitter said that he’s crying again. I don’t feel right leaving him for too long.”

  “As soon as I’m given the clear, I’ll get back on the case, Slade. You know that I’ll do everything I can to find Rio quickly.”

  “That’s why I asked you to take the lead.”

  “Who’s taking the lead on the Billows case?” Austin queried.

  “Since Brady has been found, I’m letting Cunningham handle closing the missing person’s case. Eva has already been interviewed. We’ll interview Brady when he’s a little stronger.”

  “How about our deceased perp? Do we have an ID?”

  “The medical examiner is going to pull prints, and we’ll try to get a match. I’ll let you know if we get a hit.” They stepped off the elevator and walked to the exit. The sun shone bright beyond the glass doors, but clouds loomed large on the horizon. The rain would arrive soon, washing away scent trails and evidence.

  Austin watched as Slade made his way across the parking lot, wishing he could have offered his friend more than words. He’d hoped to find Rio within an hour of getting the call that he’d been stolen, but they were eighteen hours out from the crime, and all he had was a dead perp, a description of another one and a seven-year-old witness.

  More than he’d had the previous day, but not enough to make an arrest or to return Rio.

  He grabbed a couple of sandwiches from the cafeteria, threw a couple of bags of chips on the tray with them. He grabbed a banana and an apple and tossed two packages of cookies in with the mix. Brady might like a snack later.

  The cashier smiled a little too brightly as she rang him up, her bleached-blond hair brassy and her makeup just on the wrong side of subtle.

  “You’re a police officer, aren’t you?” she asked as she slowly punched in the code for the banana.

  “That’s right.”

  “I knew it. Guy doesn’t need to wear a uniform for me to recognize when he’s in law enforcement. I’m intuitive that way.”

  “I’m sure you are,” he muttered, and her smile broadened.

  “Must be an exciting job, being a cop.”

  “It has its moments.”

  “Maybe we could get together sometime? You could tell me about it? I love everything that has to do with law enforcement.” She beamed at him. “I’m always watching those true-crime shows at home. You know the ones I’m talking about?”

  “Yes.” He handed her cash and mentally hurried her through the process of counting out his change. A few years ago, her invitation would have flattered him, and he might have been tempted to take her up on it. He’d grown up a lot since his relationship with Candace had ended. Grown up and realized that a surface relationship with a pretty woman who liked his job more than she liked him was not what he wanted.

  “So, what do you say? Want to get together after my shift? I get off at—”

  “I’m sorry. Things are hectic right now, and my schedule is full.”

  “Oh.” She handed him his change, looking more confused than upset. As if she couldn’t quite figure out if she’d been rejected. “Maybe another time.”

  He didn’t respond. Just thanked her and walked away.

  Since he’d broken things off with Candace two years ago, he hadn’t spent much time pursuing his old dreams. Family and forever tucked away in the old Vic
torian he’d spent the past five years restoring. He’d bought it planning to fill the rooms with kids and happiness, but work took him away more than any family deserved, and he’d given up the thought of having what he’d missed out on when he was a boy.

  He knocked on Brady’s door and pushed it open with his foot. The chair near the bed was empty, but Brady was exactly where he’d been when Austin had left, lying under thick blankets and sleeping deeply, his arm stretched above his head. He looked tiny and helpless, swallowed up by the bed and the room, and Austin felt the same softening of his heart that he’d felt earlier. He steeled himself against it the same way he had dozens of times before. Getting involved wasn’t an option, but he couldn’t seem to make himself put the food down and leave, either.

  “You’re back.” Eva stepped out of the bathroom, her hair pulled into a high ponytail that showed off her slender neck and high cheekbones, her face dewy as if she’d just washed it.

  Beautiful.

  Very beautiful, and Austin’s heart did more than soften, it burned hot in his chest.

  “I told you that I would be.” He dropped the food on the table, studied her pale face. The whole seemed greater than the sum of its parts. Large misty eyes, high cheekbones, a slightly-too-long nose speckled with freckles. Sharp chin, widow’s peak and perfectly arched brows just a shade darker than her pale hair. She should have looked austere and unapproachable. Instead, she looked like the girl next door, everyone’s best friend. The kind of person anyone would want on his side.

  “People don’t always do what they say. I’d think that someone in your line of work would know that.” She shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with the end of her ponytail and avoiding his gaze.

  “And I’d think that someone dealing with a person in my line of work would expect something different from him than what she’d expect from most people.” He turned his attention to his sandwich, almost felt her relief, the sigh of her easing tension.

  “Police are just like everyone else. We both know that.” She smiled to take any sting out of the words. Nice, but guarded, that was the impression that Austin got, and he wondered what it would be like to push past the wall she’d built. See what lay on the other side of it.

  “You’re quite the cynic.” He handed her a sandwich and settled into a chair beside the bed. He didn’t have to work, so he might as well be there.

  “Not really. I’m just a realist.” She took the other chair, smoothed the covers on the bed, laid her palm against Brady’s cheek.

  “Because of what happened to your parents?”

  “What about what happened to them?” She unwrapped her sandwich, a frown line marring the smooth skin of her forehead.

  “Their murderer was never found. Maybe you blame the police for that. Think that we didn’t work hard enough to find the killer. Maybe that’s what’s made you such a...realist when it comes to guys like me.”

  “I was a realist way before my parents’ murders. Besides, you weren’t part of the case at all, and the officers who were investigating did the best they could with what they had.” She sighed. “Do I think they could have done more? Probably. But my father wasn’t the kind of guy who endeared himself to law enforcement. I’m not sure they cared all that much about getting justice for him. I’m not sure I can blame them for that, either.”

  “What about getting justice for your mother?”

  Her smile fell away, and she set the sandwich on the table. “What is it you want to know, Austin?”

  “Nothing really.” But he was curious about her family. About her criminal father and her mother. About the people who had made her the woman she’d become.

  “Then why bring up my mother?”

  “Someone mentioned her today. An officer who worked the case.”

  “What did he say?” She lifted the top piece of bread off her sandwich and tossed a pickle into the trash can.

  “That she was a nice lady who got caught up with the wrong man and could never quite free herself from him.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  He raised a brow. “What’s your way?”

  “She fell in love with a man who was abusive and cruel, and she stayed with him until he killed her.” Her words were cold, her eyes icy.

  “You think your father killed your mother?” If so, it wasn’t a theory he’d heard mentioned before.

  “I think his crime got her killed, and I think that’s pretty much the same thing.” She took a bite of the sandwich, then wrapped it up again.

  “Finished?”

  “I’ve lost my appetite.” An easy thing for Eva to do when she thought about her parents.

  Two years, and she could still see her mother lying in a pool of blood, her eyes open and blank. Could still smell death, the scent of it filling the trailer where Eva had grown up. Still see the flies swarming in thick clouds above the bodies.

  She gagged, nearly lost what little of the sandwich she’d eaten.

  “Hey. It’s okay.” Austin pressed a cool palm to the back of her neck, urged her head down between her knees.

  “I’m okay,” she mumbled, but she wasn’t sure she was. It had been a long night, and she hadn’t slept, and his cool palm felt like it was the only thing holding her to the world.

  “Here. Drink this.” He poured water from the pitcher and handed her the glass. She took a sip, flinching as he pressed a cold, damp towel to the back of her neck.

  “That’s cold.”

  “That’s the point.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Tired eyes and such dark blue that Eva thought they were exactly the color of the sky at midnight. They pulled her into their beauty just as easily, made her want to search for something more than the things she’d spent the past seven years striving for.

  “Thanks.” She nudged his hand away, holding the towel herself and crossing the room to stare out the window. She needed a little space to clear her head because he was starting to get to her. Starting to make her notice things that she hadn’t noticed in a lot of years, that she hadn’t ever planned to notice again.

  Brady cried out, the sound breaking through Eva’s thoughts, pulling her back to the room and her son.

  “Brady?” She brushed soft hair from his forehead, smiling as his eyes opened. “How are you doing, buddy?”

  “I had a bad dream.”

  “Did you?” Had he forgotten that it was all real? Did he think that everything that had happened was a nightmare? She almost hoped so. Would almost rather him believe that he’d had a nightmare than have him relive the terror.

  “Yes. I dreamed the bad man came for me again. I dreamed he climbed right in the window and took me, and this time you didn’t find me.”

  “I won’t let that happen, Brady. I promise.” She lifted his cold hand and smiled, but his attention was on Austin.

  “I thought you left,” he said.

  Austin shook his head and stepped close to the bed. “Not yet.”

  “I’m glad. That bad guy won’t come in the window while you’re here.”

  “Even if I wasn’t here, no one could get in the window. We’re too high up.”

  “We are?”

  “Sure. Want to see?”

  “Okay.” Brady pushed aside the covers, his little arms trembling, his movements uncoordinated. Bruises peeked out from under the cuffs of his pajama pants, the long scratch on his forearm angry and red.

  “You need to stay in be—”

  She didn’t have a chance to finish. Austin lifted Brady from the bed and carried him to the window, rolling the IV pole beside him.

  “See that? We’re four stories up. The only way for the bad guy to get in this window would be for him to fly, and no one can do that.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Brady frowned, his head resting against Austin’s shoulder, his eyes shadowed. He looked comfortable, his body relaxed, and Eva thought he might drift to sleep again. Right there in Austin’s arms. Her palms itched to pull Brady away. Her mind
screamed that she’d be making a big mistake if she didn’t.

  She wasn’t the only one who could be hurt if she let Austin deeper into their lives. There’d been a time when she’d wanted nothing more than to know that her son would have a father and a mother raising him. She’d believed with everything in her that she and Rick were going to get married, that they’d have a beautiful house and a beautiful family.

  That was before she’d learned that Rick was married.

  Such a silly childish dream, and she’d outgrown it a long time ago. Still, seeing Austin and Brady together made her heart ache for all the things that might have been.

  “You need to get back under the covers,” she said, her voice husky and tight.

  “I’m not tired, Momma.” But his eyes were closed again.

  Austin eased him back into bed and tucked the covers up around his shoulders, the gentleness in his face adding to the ache in Eva’s heart.

  “You should probably go,” she said, and he looked into her face, his expression unreadable.

  She thought for a minute that he would find an excuse to stay, but he just nodded, dropped his business card on the table near the pile of food he’d brought. “If you need anything, call.”

  He walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.

  Alone again. Eva and Brady. Just the way it was supposed to be. So why didn’t she feel happier about it?

  “Did he go, Momma?” Brady whispered.

  “Yes,” Eva murmured.

  “I don’t feel safe when he’s not here.” A tear slipped down his cheek, and Eva wiped it away, tried to tell herself that he’d be just fine. That she could be enough for him. That they didn’t need anyone or anything but God and each other.

  Somehow, though, that didn’t seem quite as true as it had been the previous day.

  EIGHT

  Jeb Rinehart.

  Austin stared at the name, tried to match it to the body that had lain in the stagnant pool near the cave. Twenty-seven. Red hair. Brown eyes. Sallow complexion. Three convictions on drug charges. Time served for the third one. Released from prison a month ago.

  Dead by Austin’s hand.