“Or she’s good,” Connor corrected. “Could be a woman out there pulling the trigger. Just saying.”
“Oh yeah?” Roy smirked. “You know any female snipers do you, you with your co-ed boot camp training?”
“Sure do. Isabella Ramos. She was an MP before she deployed. Check this out.” Connor wrangled his wallet out of his tight back pocket and pulled a silver Iraqi dinar from the inner folds of it. A neat hole pierced the three date trees on the face of the coin. He tossed it to Murphy.
“She did that?” Murphy examined the coin, his brow spiked. “What distance?”
“Far enough I couldn’t see it anymore,” Connor explained. “A couple of us guys were blowing off practice rounds one day. Up she comes and tells us to watch and learn. Then she trots out past our targets and sticks two coins into an old dead tree stump. We thought she was toying with us. Didn’t say another word. She came back, dropped to her belly in the sand, and pop, pop. Nailed both coins, one shot each. I’m telling you, she’s got the eyes of an eagle.”
“Oldest trick in the book.” Murphy chuckled. “Bet they already had holes in ’em.”
Connor rolled his eyes. “You think we’d fall for that? No way. My buddy, Jamie, ran all the way out there to make sure. She’s the real deal.”
“Man, I’d like to meet a cute gal who can shoot,” Roy agreed as Murphy passed the dinar for inspection.
“Maybe I ought to interview your girlfriend, see if Alex needs—”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Connor cut the banter short. He snagged the coin out of Roy’s fingers and tucked it back inside his wallet. “But let me tell you something in case you ever do interview her, which is highly unlikely. Don’t mess around with Izza. She’s tough as nails and she means every word that comes out of her mouth. If she says she’s gonna bust you one upside your hard head, get ready for a slap down. And don’t bad mouth female snipers either. She’s cute all right, like a baby rattlesnake is cute.”
“Sounds like you been bit by this particular baby,” Roy teased. It wasn’t often this particular junior agent let a cute gal get away from him. Connor was single and looking. There had to be more to the story.
“Let’s just say Izza won’t be friending me on Facebook real soon,” Connor muttered. The warm glow spreading over the younger man’s clean-shaven cheeks confirmed Roy’s suspicions.
Murphy turned the television volume up. Again, the media circus centered on frivolous details that had nothing to do with the actual investigation. Harley’s face flashed to the screen as Crosland Webster revisited more of the Stewarts’ personal lives.
“Man, I do not like Channel 16 reporters.” He turned the volume down.
“Yeah, Murph. What’s this guy got against Alex anyway?” Roy nodded toward the TV screen. “He and Webster have a history I don’t know about?”
“I guess,” Murphy said. “Damned punk thinks he’s got the right to drag a man’s name through the mud just because he carries a press card.”
“And who’s Mrs. Wilshire?” Roy leaned over his crossed arms on the table. That little nugget of information seemed to have blindsided everyone but Murphy. “I didn’t know the boss was divorced before he married Kelsey. Thought he’d only been married twice.”
“There’s a lot you guys don’t know about Alex.” That Murphy didn’t make eye contact when he answered told Roy the discussion was closed.
It almost felt good watching Whisper and Smoke roar around the backyard like a couple of happy dogs. Almost. The good feeling didn’t last. Everything, even the purpling wisteria twined in the arbor over and around the swing he was sitting on, reminded Alex that Kelsey wasn’t where she belonged. He’d failed her.
His backyard used to be nothing more than a patch of dried, dead grass with a bare dirt path from the back door to the dog kennel. She’d come into their lives and changed everything.
Those were her tulips, daffodils, and crocus in blossom against the foundation of the house, not his. Her French lilac stood heavy with buds in the corner and the pink Snow Fountain cherry at the backside of the kennel was her idea too. He could envision her at either tree with her face in the blossoms, drawing in a deep breath and smiling. She couldn’t seem to surround herself with enough flowers, maybe because of all she’d suffered. Hell, he didn’t know a single plant’s name until she came along.
Alex stiffened his legs to stop the gentle sway of the swing. Every molecule in his body ached to know where she was. Helplessness engulfed him. He didn’t have one solitary lead, no ransom call, no threats, nothing. He’d pay anything. Everything!
God, I miss her!
The last twenty-four hours had overwhelmingly stomped the life out of him. And if that wasn’t enough, he had an endangered and missing agent on top of an already dangerous operation with his idiot friends, the FBI. The weight of his business world pressed down on him. Maybe Roy was right. Maybe every agent ought to be called back home to search for Kelsey.
Lost in deliberation, he almost didn’t see his black Shepherd. Whisper seemed to materialize out of nowhere, all of a sudden planted at Alex’s feet, his black-brown eyes fixed squarely on his unhappy master. The silver dog, Smoke, had settled beneath the swing content to be the more obedient dog. Whisper whined softly, content to be the one who didn’t believe he was a dog.
“You miss her too, don’t you?” Alex ruffled the big fellow’s head.
Whisper growled in his funny dog-speak that made Kelsey declare he could talk. The big oaf sounded like it. Funny thing, Alex could not recall Whisper talking until Kelsey. If he had to pinpoint the day Whisper found his voice, it would be the moment when Alex thought his dog had found a corpse on his cabin porch. Instead, he’d found both Alex and the crazy mutt’s reason to live. Neither of them had missed a day of total loyalty, devotion, and love since. Whisper hadn’t quit talking either.
He thumped a paw on Alex’s knee, offering one soft pig-like grunt.
“Whatcha want?”
Whisper persisted with growly dog-speak. He grasped his master’s forearm in his mouth. His growl became more anxious as he tugged Alex out of the swing.
“I give. What do you want?” With his arm clamped in the dog’s mouth, Alex was pulled to his back door. He was about to distract the comical brute with a ball or dog bone, when he saw the edge of a manila envelope stuck inside the locked screen door. Brushing Whisper aside, he unlocked the door and tore the eight-by-eleven sized envelope open.
Three Polaroid photos slipped into his hand. His breath caught. Kelsey. In the first, she resembled a crumpled ragdoll in the back of a blue pickup bed, the same one he’d seen parked across from his house. Still dressed in the tank top and bicycle shorts she had on last night, black bruises circled her biceps. Blood dripped across her forehead and cheek. White as a sheet with her mouth half-open, she looked dead.
“Oh, hell.” His heart sank in his chest as he focused on the next image. Laid out in the bottom of what looked like a freshly dug grave, her arms had been folded across her chest in the pose of a corpse. “What have they done to you?”
The third picture was the most revealing. A huge monster of a man stood with Kelsey, her arms flung wide with his hands gripped across her chest. The man made no effort to hold her carefully. She was just something the ugly fool had posed with.
Alex stared at the man’s face with total hatred in his heart. Who was he? The monster didn’t look familiar. Why had he stolen Kelsey? This ugly brute hurt her! She was bleeding. Anguish stabbed Alex. Years of experience and discipline flew out the window. The frustration of knowing nothing rolled over him in pulsing, angry waves.
He forced a deep breath. His own words came back to him. How many times had he asked it of his team? Think! Scrutinizing the third picture, he compartmentalized his rampaging emotion and opted for self-control. It was a wider shot taken last night, possibly in the beam of a vehicle’s headlights. There were trees and bushes in the background. The man stood in front of a small tent for
two.
There was obviously something wrong with him. Freakishly large, his head seemed out of proportion with the rest of his body. Elongated and rectangular, the man’s forehead jutted over the rest of his face, almost Frankenstein-ish in shape and size. One shaggy eyebrow stretched over both eyes, adding to the ledge effect of his forehead.
His size made Kelsey look smaller than she was. Despite his baseball mitt-sized hands, he did not appear to be groping her. As Alex analyzed with more logic and less rage, he realized the man might be mentally, possibly emotionally compromised.
The guy smiled directly into the camera. He looked proud and happy. All of his crooked teeth showed. It was an ugly smile, but the innocence behind it was apparent. Alex had seen this look before on adults with Downs Syndrome before. There was no way the man could have orchestrated the abduction. He might have been the brawn, but he was surely not the brain. That meant at least two people were involved, the compromised individual in front of the camera and the mastermind in the shadows.
For the first time, hope fluttered. With the genius of his techies to help unravel the photos, Alex had a way forward. There was work to be done. He was in possession of evidence in an active police investigation. There might be fingerprints. Should he call Detective Hemmings? Should he wait for the police to show? Depend on others?
Hell no. Sonofabitches haven’t helped so far.
Energized and swearing a blue streak, Alex retrieved his fingerprint kit from his truck and carefully dusted the back doors, the gate, and everything in sight including the porch swing. Thinking like a detective instead of an emotional husband, he placed the envelope and photos in a plastic evidence bag. Hope created energy. He could find her.
Before he headed back to his office, he tossed Whisper and Smoke an extra treat on their way back into their kennel. Even that simple act reminded him of the woman missing from his life. He’d never used to buy dogs treats. Of course, Smoke snarfed his before it hit the ground. He was a dog, after all. But Whisper dropped his treat, and barked one short grumbled dog word.
Alex’s heart sank and hope went with it. What was he thinking? Even on a normal day, Whisper wouldn’t eat until he caught sight of Kelsey. That dog biscuit would lie on the ground until Smoke helped himself to it, and Whisper would let him. His black Shepherd was pining away.
Alex dropped to one knee and gathered the big fluffy armful of dog hair into his arms. His eyes brimmed with tears while Whisper whined and licked his face. All the evidence in the world did not change the fact. Kelsey was gone. Whisper knew it. God, Alex knew it.
Reality sucked the hope out of him. Hell, he didn’t know if he was holding proof of life or proof of death in those evidence bags. He’d gotten excited for nothing. Maybe all that was left of her was the flowers and his dogs. He buried his face in Whisper’s mane thankful to be hanging onto something Kelsey loved.
Whisper laid his head over his master’s shoulder. The dog pushed into Alex, nearly knocking him backward on his butt. Normally, that was just the way of dogs, but today it felt like something more. He adjusted his knee to counterbalance the dog’s hug.
A soft growly whine rumbled out of Whisper’s chest.
Alex could have sworn he just heard, ‘Hurry!’
“Look at me,” he whispered. “I’m talking to you like you’re human. She’d be so proud of us, boy.”
Seven
Raymond couldn’t resist. He was hungry and alone and bored. His stomach gurgled like when he was back in the city. And his face hurt. It hurt a lot. The old woman had been gone a long time. The sun was sinking lower in the afternoon sky and it was gonna get dark again soon. He was sure of that. He’d be out here in the scary forest without a truck to sleep in.
When he couldn’t take it any longer, he ambled back over to the blue tarp and plopped himself at the edge. Lifting the cover, he was surprised to see the pretty woman doing push-ups. She scrambled to her feet the moment light filled the pit.
It looked like she’d been doing some digging too. There were little holes in the soft part of the earthen wall, plus her hands were dirty and her nails were black. A smudge of dirt lined the side of her nose, and her face was red. Most people on the street got that same look when they saw him right before they’d walk in the opposite direction. He started to lower the tarp.
“Don’t go. Please stay.” Her voice was a little cheerier despite being out of breath. “I was hoping you’d come back, Raymond.”
“Oh. Okay.” He flung the cover aside and settled to the ground with his legs dangling over the edge.
“What’s my name?”
He froze. Was she trying to trick him?
“It’s all right if you forgot. I forget things all the time. Might forget my head some day if it wasn’t screwed on.”
Ha. What a funny picture! “Nobody’s head is screwed on.”
“You’re quite smart, aren’t you? Look at this nice hole. You did a good job.” She looked around her deep, dark pit.
His chest swelled with pride. “Ah huh, I did. I made the corners extra square and pointy, ya know, because, ah... because...” He stopped talking. Why was it important to keep the corners pointy?
“Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t get to eat, would you?”
“Wow. Does you know everything?” He had to ask. It seemed like she could see straight through him.
“No. Some days I don’t think I know anything at all. How about if you call me Kelsey?”
“Oh, yeah. You is Kelsey. I remember now. I not so dumb.”
“I need a favor,” she announced.
He’d do anything to keep her talking. “What do ya want, huh Kelsey?”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“You what?” The smile dropped off his face like a ton of bricks off a ten-story building. He didn’t know nothing ’bout how a woman used the bathroom. How was he gonna help her do that? His skin got all sweaty thinking about it, and his face felt hot. Raymond shook his head at the impossibility of such a thing. “I never... ah, no, I never...”
“It’s okay.” She had the prettiest smile. “I just want you to help me out of this hole. Hurry. I need to find a tree.”
Oh. Hmm. Just like he did first thing every morning. Okay then. He could help her find a tree, but he’d learned one lesson very early in life. Never help anyone unless they help you back. “Whatcha gonna do for me?”
“I don’t know. What do you want me to do?”
“I hafta think about it.” He scrunched his entire face so Kelsey would know how hard he was thinking.
“Think about it while I go to the bathroom. Help me up. Hurry.”
“’Kay. I’ll git the ladder.” In a minute, he’d thumped it down into the pit. “Only be careful it don’t pinch your hand, cuz it mashed me a good one. Wanna see my blood blister?”
When she scrambled up the ladder, Raymond stepped back. A flush of embarrassment warmed his entire body. Wow. She was a fairy princess in navy blue shorts, her big brown eyes all trusting and kind. Maybe he should run away before she could speak another word. Maybe the earth should swallow him whole. A tear welled up.
She took a step toward him, looking at his dirty hands. “Let me see it.”
“See what?” He took another step back, afraid she meant the tear.
“Your thumb. I want to see the blood blister. I bet it really hurt, didn’t it?” She closed the distance between them, and he forgot he was embarrassed because by then he could barely breathe. This pretty girl was actually coming close to him. On purpose.
Kelsey took his hand, and he was amazed. He could scarcely feel her fingers on his dirty hand, but when she looked at his face, her expression changed. The sun was up now. She’d stepped into his shadow. Her eyes widened. His heart pitched. She was gonna run for sure.
“Oh, Raymond. Honey.” She reached for his cheek instead of screaming. “You poor thing. You’re hurt. What happened?”
“She hit me,” he bawled, feeling sorry for h
imself but very surprised too.
Kelsey didn’t run away. Instead, she stroked his sore cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Is there any water around?”
He pointed to a plastic bag near the entrance to the tent. “She keeps bottles of water over there only don’t take the last one cuz she’ll be really mad if you do.”
Kelsey grabbed a bottle of water and some napkins from the bag. Dousing the napkins, she returned to him. “Sit down so I can reach you better. This might sting. Can you be extra brave for me?”
He plopped to the ground at her feet and tensed his shoulders into the bravest muscles he could, squeezing his eyes shut too. He was ready. He could take it cuz he was really big. She poured a little water over his eyes and wiped the crusted blood away. Ha! He started rocking again. Didn’t hurt at all. He was the bravest man ever.
Folding the damp napkin, she cleaned under his eyelid, then smoothed over his forehead and down his cheek. His stupid noisy heart nearly stopped beating because she leaned in so close, and she didn’t even punch him. Not once. Her hair smelled kinda like flowers. He opened his one good eye to look at her.
“You have the prettiest baby blue eyes.” She winked at him and ran the cool cloth over his cheek one more time. “At least one is blue. The other is kind of black and blue.”
Something about her hand cupping his cheek made him want to wiggle. Her breath on his cheek sent a shiver through him as she gently wiped his face.
“Hmm. Some of these cuts are deep. If we were in town, I’d take you to a doctor for couple stitches.”
“What’s a couple stitches?” He wished she’d never stop talking.
“Stitches are the same as the threads that hold our clothes together. Doctors stitch cuts to help them heal faster and keep them clean.”
He chuckled at her good joke. “Stitches in a person. Ha.”
She took a step back. “There. That will hold you for a while.”
Raymond couldn’t wait to ask his very important question any longer. “Did you know I saw a bear last night?”
Harley (In the Company of Snipers Book 4) Page 6
