Fighting For Carly

by Deanndra Hall

  The hours were like steam from a teapot, curling up and disappearing. She had no idea what time it was, or how much time had passed. Would he come back for her? He’d said he would, but he was a man whose word meant nothing to her. And if anything happened to him, how would anyone ever find her? She closed her eyes and sent out a silent message: Ross, I don’t know where I am, but find me. Please? I need you. It was the best she could do.

  “Think. What’s near the area where her SUV was found?” Cruz asked a couple of the deputies.

  “Nothing, really. Just a few houses here and there. It really thins out that direction,” a Langostino answered.

  “Nothing? Think, guys. There’s got to be something out there,” Ross pressed.

  “Nothing,” Andy added. “Not a thing.”

  “Face it, he could be hundreds of miles away by now,” Ross said and dropped his face to the desk. Carly was gone. How they’d find her, he couldn’t imagine. There were too many places she could be, too many ways he could’ve gotten out of town.

  “I don’t think that’s true.” The voice was Trooper Davis Townsend of the Texas Highway Patrol. “Has anybody come up with an analysis of the blood found on the note yet?”

  “It was pretty diluted, but I’ve got our lab working on it,” Cruz answered.

  “Now, let’s think about this,” Townsend said. “He left a note. Two words—fuck you. Who did he leave that for?”

  They all looked at Ross. “You think it was me?”

  “He’s challenging you, McEvers. He’s saying, ‘Come and get her.’ He wants you to find her, most likely so he can kill you.”

  Ross hadn’t thought about that possibility. Cruz’s phone pinged. “They found some hair at the scene, and it matches Harlan’s.”

  “So he was there,” Dax said.

  “Yep. But whose blood was that on the note?” Cruz wondered aloud.

  “What kind of paper was it?” Townsend asked.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe some kind of writing tablet? It was just a scrap torn off the bottom, looked like.” Dax was talking to no one in particular, just ruminating out loud.

  Cruz’s phone rang. “Uh-huh. Hang on. I’m going to put you on speaker.” He laid the phone on the desk and hit a circle on the screen. “Okay, Clay. Go ahead.”

  “So I’ve thoroughly looked at this note. It’s written in pencil. But there’s a letter printed on it, and on one end, there’s a piece of glue, like it was ripped from a pad.”

  “I noticed that, but I rarely say anything. I let you guys work on it. You usually come up with the right answer,” Cruz said.

  “So this letter … If you looked at the pad, the letter would be about half an inch from the top of the pad, within about an inch of the right edge. I thought that straight edge was the bottom of the paper, but it’s not—it’s the side.”

  “So what is the letter?” Cruz asked.

  “It’s a lower case t. And it’s a gold color.”

  “Hmmm.” Cruz looked around at the men in the room. “Any ideas?”

  Everyone shook their heads. Ross drummed his fingers on the desktop and stared at the ceiling. If only he could come up with something. Glancing down, he noticed he was leaving fingerprints all over the desktop, and he tried to wipe them away. When he did, he hit a stack of papers and sent them flying. “Fuck. I’m so clumsy,” he mumbled as he tried to pick them all up. As he did, something fell out.

  It was a notepad, and across the top, in gold letters, it read, Bandera County Sheriff’s Department. He stared at it. No—it couldn’t be. Then he picked it up and held it up. “Guys? Guys, look.”

  All eyes turned to him and they all looked like they were going to pop. “Holy shit,” Dax whispered. “That’s it.”

  “What’s it?” Clay asked through the speaker.

  “Clay,” Cruz ordered, “run those blood samples from that note against the Anderson family.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.”

  The phone went dead and Cruz slapped the desktop with his hand. “What are the chances the sheriff carried notepads home with him?”

  “Pretty damn good, I’d say,” Langostino answered. “Hell, I’ve probably got half a dozen of the damn things at my house. I write a note and instead of tearing it off, I just put the pad in my pocket. Then I clean out my pockets at home, the notepad gets dropped on the table, and it stays. I don’t ever bother to bring them back. So the chances of having a lot of them at his house? I’d say good—very good.”

  “Right. That would mean he’s got her at the Anderson’s house,” Townsend said as everyone else nodded.

  Cruz nodded. “Exactly. But he’s waiting for Ross. That’s who he wants.”

  “So how do we give him what he wants and get her out of there?” Townsend asked.

  Ross sighed. “It’s really simple. Like you said, we give him what he wants.”

  They’d gotten the results, and Cruz’s guess had been correct. The blood on the note was indeed from a member of the Anderson family—Adelaide Anderson, to be exact. That meant Carly was there somewhere, and Ross couldn’t think of anything more horrifying for her than to be there in that house where her superior officer and his family had been killed by a man who wanted to steal her away.

  Everybody was gearing up to go to the Anderson’s. Ross looked around for anything he could wear. “Got an extra vest?” he asked one of the deputies.

  “You’re not going,” Cruz barked.

  “Yes. I’m going.”

  “No, you’re not,” Dax said to reinforce Cruz’s edict.

  “I most definitely am going. You can’t stop me.”

  “Actually, we can,” Townsend answered.

  Ross glared at the three men. “But you won’t. You need everybody you’ve got, and you know it.”

  “We also don’t need to get you killed. You need to stay here,” Cruz told him again.

  “No. I’m not staying here. I’m going. End of discussion. I’ll need a vest and a gun and―”

  “Would somebody please tell him he doesn’t need to go!” Dax yelled.

  What happened next was something Ross would never forget. Most likely alerted by all the shouting, Louie stepped into the room and walked right up to Ross. “Raise your right hand and repeat after me. I, Ross McEvers …”

  “I, Ross McEvers …”

  “Do solemnly swear to carry out the duties of the office of deputy of Bandera County, Texas …”

  “Do solemnly swear to carry out the duties of the office of deputy of Bandera County, Texas …” Ross could see Dax and Cruz’s mouths dropping open.

  “In limited scope and as a temporary deputy …”

  “In limited scope and as a temporary deputy …” It was all he could do to keep from laughing.

  “Until such time as my deputization is terminated.”

  Ross grinned. “Until such time as my deputization is terminated.”

  “So help me God.”

  Ross nodded. “So help me God.” Louie handed him a vest and a two-way radio. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Follow their lead and don’t get crazy out there. I’d hate to regret doing this, but I know Carly would appreciate it.”

  Ross held out his hand and Louie shook it. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I appreciate it.”

  The interim sheriff clapped his free hand on top of their joined ones. “Just find her and bring her back.”

  He slapped his free hand on top of the other three. “You know I’ll do my best.”

  “I do. I’m going back in here to see what the hell is going on in all four corners of this county. Good luck, gentlemen. That’s one of ours. Bring her home.”

  Dax gave Ross a dead-eyed look. “Okay. You’re in the back of our SUV. You’ll stay behind when we take the property. Only after it’s secured can you come in. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, sir. I do,” Ross nodded.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Dodging debris, downed power lines,
and emergency crews, the entourage headed for Chuck Anderson’s house. They stopped down the road a bit and parked on the side. “On foot from here,” Cruz told everyone with them. He turned to glance at Ross. “Remember what Dax said.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be right here until you tell me I can come.”

  “Good enough. Guys, around the perimeter of the property. Hand signals only. Let’s go.”

  Ross waited. God, it was excruciating. He needed to be there, needed to see what they were seeing and hear what they were hearing. Ten minutes drifted by, then twenty, and then thirty. He was fast losing patience when he heard his radio crackle. “All personnel, house is clear.” Did that mean he could go? “McEvers, if you can hear me, get your ass on down here,” a voice said, and he knew it was Cruz.

  Ross took off at a dead run. There were officers all over the place, and the doors of the house were wide open. “What? Did you find her?”

  Townsend shook his head. “No. She’s not here. I don’t know where she is, but she’s not here.”

  “But the note―”

  Cruz sighed. “He could’ve picked up that notepad the other night when he was here and just carried it around.” The door to the garage opened. “Find anything out there?”

  Two deputies Ross didn’t know well shook their heads. “Nothing,” the taller one answered.

  She’s got to be here somewhere. There’s nowhere else he’d take her. He came back to the scene of the crime. Don’t they always say criminals do that on the TV shows? He knew that was ridiculous, but he didn’t have anything else. Then he thought of something. “What about a dog? A bloodhound?”

  Dax looked around at the group of men. “Are there S&R groups in town?”

  One of the men answered quickly, “Yes, sir. Three of them, and all with dogs.”

  “Then get one of them out here,” Dax ordered. “We can at least do that.”

  Twenty minutes later, a big lanky bloodhound named Keifer was sniffing around. When he was given Carly’s scent, he went into the house, straight into the kitchen, and stopped. “What does that mean?” Ross asked his handler.

  “Inconclusive. Was she here at another time?”

  “Yeah, the night of the murders.”

  “That’s what he’s picking up on, the residual scent. Based on his behavior, I’d say it’s not extremely fresh.”

  Ross nodded. That meant Harlan hadn’t brought Carly into the house. His thoughts were interrupted when Cruz said, “I think this is a bust. Might as well go back to the station and regroup.”

  Ross rolled his eyes. “I know she’s here somewhere.”

  “Unless they’ve got a secret room, that’s not the case,” Dax said.

  “But he was a sheriff. They probably have a safe room!” Ross blurted out.

  Townsend stepped up. “We’ll talk to the companies that build those around here, see if they have one somewhere in the house or around.”

  “I issued an APB for Harlan in Adelaide’s car. It’s missing from the garage,” Newsom reported.

  “Good. Maybe we’ll get something that way.” Cruz was looking around, and Ross knew he was trying to see anything that might give him a clue, but there was nothing. He was right—it was a bust. “And while you were outside, I got a call. There’s a David West who was shot just a little while ago. Firefighter.”

  Ross thought for a second. “David West …”

  “Pops. Fire chief. What the hell happened?” Townsend asked, his eyes round. Ross wanted to scream. How could the whole damn world be coming apart in the span of a couple of hours?

  “Don’t know, but I’m being asked to assist,” Cruz said with a frown.

  Ross’s stomach knotted. “You can’t just abandon Carly. She’s out there somewhere and―”

  “We’re not abandoning the investigation or Carly, Ross. We’re pretty resourceful. Townsend here will be a lot of help to you, and I’m not just walking away. This will spread me a little thin, but I can handle it.”

  Townsend nodded. “I definitely want to help. And we’re not finding anything here, so might as well pack it up and―”

  “THP unit twelve nineteen, THP unit twelve nineteen, this is central dispatch, over.”

  Townsend perked up. “Central dispatch, this is THP unit twelve nineteen. Over.”

  “Officers advise they’ve stopped a vehicle matching the description of the Mrs. Anderson’s car. Suspect in custody after brief chase. Lt. Guiterrez is transporting. Over.”

  “Roger that, central dispatch. Over.” Townsend grinned. “Well, we may not have Deputy Cross, but we’ve got Richard Harlan. Let’s go see what he has to say for himself.”

  Ross followed them. But as he walked out of the house, he looked back at the bloodhound. It stood on the back porch with its handler, staring out across the fields behind the house, its nose in the air. And he wondered what that meant, or if it meant anything at all.

  Chapter 19

  They could hear him all the way outside, yelling and cursing, as they approached the building. As soon as they stepped in, he wheeled in the holding cell and glared at Ross. “Well, there he is! I hate you, you hillbilly motherfucker!”

  “Feeling’s mutual, Cross. Or should I say, Harlan,” Ross spat in his direction.

  “Did he give you a hard time?” Cruz asked Louie.

  “He tried to run, but apparently he’s not familiar with a stick shift. Didn’t work out too well,” Louie said, laughing. “That Mustang Cobra was a little too much for him!”

  “I want five minutes alone with him. No monitors,” Ross ground out through gritted teeth.

  Louie shook his head. “Can’t let you do that, McEvers, and you know it.”

  “Where’s Carly, you piece of shit? We know you have her!” Ross screamed at him from across the room and pounded the bars on the holding cell.

  “You’re never going to see her again. I might’ve let her live if you’d shown up so I could kill you, but now here we are. And she’s not getting out of there.”

  A hand grabbed Ross’s shoulder. “Come on,” Louie whispered in his ear, so he followed the tall man out into the front office.

  “Okay, he said she’s not getting out of there. That means she’s in something. You two,” Louie said, pointing to Danvers and Newsom, “I want you to check records at all the self-storage places in town to see if he had a unit.”

  “On it,” Danvers called back and took off with Newsom right behind him.

  “You,” he said and pointed to another deputy named Richmond, “check to see if there are any places that rent those portable storage building or trailers and have rented one to him.”

  “Yes, sir,” Richmond said and headed toward his desk.

  “Did anybody check the trunks of the cars out there? Or Harlan’s car?”

  “No, sir, but I’ll call out there and have whoever’s still there do so,” Deputy Langostino answered. “But we know the Mustang’s trunk was empty.”

  “Right.” Louie sat there, and for a second, he and Ross side-eyed each other. Surely they’re not ready to give up, Ross told himself.

  “I’m going back in here to talk to fuckstick,” Ross said.

  “You’re not getting anything from him,” Louie warned.

  “I don’t care. Maybe he’ll say something that’ll give me a clue.” The other men were still working as Ross made his way through the big double doors.

  Harlan looked up and sneered. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the man who stole my wife.”

  Ross’s voice was a lava-infused growl. “She’s not your wife, and I didn’t steal her. Why don’t you just resign yourself to the fact that she’s never going to be with you again, especially after this?”

  “Never is a long time, asshole.”

  “Yes. It is. That’s why I used that word.” He pulled up a chair and sat down barely over an arm’s length outside the cell. “So why don’t you just tell me where she is and be done with it?”

  “Not happening.”

>   Ross stood and wandered toward the door. “I hope you rot in here,” he muttered as he went.

  “Like she’s going to rot right where she is.”

  White hot fury coursed through Ross’s veins. Plus something else was bothering him, something that was making him feel very unsettled, and he wasn’t sure what. Maybe he’d figure it out.

  But right that minute, he just needed to be near something of Carly’s. Without another word, he headed out the front door and to his truck. He was going to her house, if for no other reason than to sniff her scent on her pillow.

  It was all he had.

  Carly woke again, and the dizziness was almost overwhelming. She was totally disoriented there in the dark, and she knew she was fast dehydrating. She’d peed her pants in her sleep, so that was a loss of fluid too. Why hadn’t he come back?

  She’d worked and worked to loosen the ropes binding her hands and ankles, but it was useless. They were tied too well, and she had to believe he’d done something similar before. How could she have been so wrong about him? He was a charmer, that was for sure, but at least she knew the truth. Didn’t matter. If something didn’t happen soon, she’d die there in the darkness.

  All she wanted was Ross. His arms. His lips. His skin against hers. Just to hear his voice and feel his touch, that was all she wanted. She’d thought maybe, just maybe, she’d die at a ripe old age in his arms, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. The dizziness took over again, and she groaned as she closed her eyes and tried to make it go away. She’d been down there too long, she knew, and she was slipping away. And she couldn’t even leave him a note.

  Please, let him know how much I love him, she thought. It was all she had left.

  He drove through town and looked at the devastation. Half of Tarpley was gone. It looked like it had been run through a blender. Trees were shredded, power lines were down, houses were destroyed. Debris was everywhere. And when he pulled up in front of the house, he was stunned.

  Carly’s home had been leveled. All that remained was the foundation and a wall wobbling back and forth. There was a piece of wide red tape tied to a stake in the front yard, and Ross knew what that meant. The fire department had been there and knew there was no one inside. Everything was destroyed.