The Kidnapping of Cody Moss

by Sara L Foust

  Zach nodded even as he dialed Annalise.

  “Hey, Zach. What’s up?”

  “We need backup.”

  “Now?”

  “Sort of.” He explained the plan. “Wanna help?”

  “Yes, but I’m headed to Atlanta right now to meet a sketch artist. I can come to you as soon as I finish up. Probably around dinnertime tonight.”

  “That works. I’ll text you a list of supplies we need. The SMIF fund will reimburse you later.”

  “If this helps find Cody, I don’t care about being reimbursed.”

  He sighed. She was putting an awful lot of eggs in this one basket. “We don’t know if this is related yet, you know.”

  “I am aware of that fact.”

  Ouch. He hated her snappy tone. It reminded him of when they were kids and she was about to rat him out to their parents. “Lise, you okay?”

  “No.” Her softened tone told him if he pressed any harder, she’d be crying.

  “We’re going to find him. And figure out what that snake Jimmy Vern is up to in the process.”

  “I hope so.”

  “If nothing else, getting you up here in the mountains will be a distraction while TBI, hopefully, works some magic and figures out where Cody is.”

  “The lady I’m going to meet thinks she saw him the morning he was kidnapped. Once I get her statement and the sketch artist finishes, we can get the image out on the news and maybe another concerned citizen will know something.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It’s just...”

  “What?”

  “It feels like we’re already too late. Like I’ve already failed him.”

  “Listen to me, Annalise. I know you take things to heart. That’s part of what makes you so good at your job. But none of this is your fault. Whether we find Cody alive or not, it isn’t your fault.”

  “Yes it is.”

  “Whoever took him, that’s who we hold responsible. Period.”

  “You’re right.” She paused. “It’s my first kidnapping, Zach.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not sure I ever want to go through this again. Even in Memphis for those couple years, I didn’t have one single kidnapping case.”

  “I know. It’s got to be the hardest kind I can think of.” He understood, but if she became part of SMIF, there was a good chance she would. His earlier thought returned. He had to stop encouraging her to take the job. He cared too much about her to see her suffer through another case like this. “Be safe getting here.”

  She sniffled. “I will. See you in a few hours.”

  “THANK YOU FOR AGREEING to speak with me, Mrs. Marshall.” Annalise stepped into a modest home in the outskirts of Atlanta. Two young children, a boy and a girl, peeked at her from behind the flaps of a play tent in the corner. She smiled.

  “Oh, anything I can do to help.”

  The sketch artist extended his hand. “My name is Adam. I work with the police department. Do you have a table where I can set up my things?”

  Mrs. Marshall led them into a small kitchen, with green gingham curtains and apple-dotted wallpaper.

  “We don’t want to take up any more of your time than is necessary,” Annalise said as she sat at the table across from Adam and Mrs. Marshall. “But I was hoping you could go over, one more time, exactly what you saw.”

  “It was very early. Around five, I guess. We had to get home in time for my husband to go to work after a quick weekend trip up to Tennessee.”

  Annalise nodded.

  “My kids were both sound asleep, but while Mark pumped gas, I happened to look over. And this pickup pulled in. A man got out. He glanced around, but I guess he didn’t notice I was watching.”

  “Did you see any tattoos or birthmarks that may help identify him?”

  “It was awfully dark, and foggy. I think he did have some tattoos, because he had a few gray spots, but I couldn’t tell what they were.”

  “Do you remember on what part of his body they were located?”

  Mrs. Marshall pointed to the base of her neck on the left side. “Here. And one on his forearm. I saw it when he got the pump handle out.”

  Just like Jimmy Vern. “Okay. Great.”

  “Well, anyway, he opened the back door and there was this boy laying there.” She shook her head. “But he didn’t have a pillow or anything. And his head was all cocked to one side. He looked very uncomfortable. I cannot imagine how someone could sleep in that position.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “I just had this feeling, you know. Something was off about the whole thing. The boy never moved. Not so much as a twitch.” She wrung her hands on the table. “It was like he was drugged or something. I should’ve told someone then.”

  “We are glad you’ve come forward now.” Annalise reached across the table and patted her hands. “Is there anything else you can remember?”

  Mrs. Marshall shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve given us great information. Thank you. One last question, which gas station was it?”

  “Pop’s Gas ’n Go in Maryville. You know, right there on the main road?”

  “Great. Thank you. I’ll let you two get working then.” Annalise rose from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head on out. I have another lead I’ve got to follow. Adam, when you finish, if you could send the sketch straight to Captain Brooks, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thanks.” She shook Mrs. Marshall’s hand.

  The kids giggled as Annalise walked by. She smiled at them again and let herself onto the porch. “Captain Brooks, we need the video feed from the pumps at that little Gas ’n Go on the main strip.”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thanks. How’s Paul doing?”

  “He’s a great car washer.”

  Annalise chuckled. “At least feed him a good lunch for his volunteer time.”

  “Burgers at Little Senator do sound good.”

  “Anything new from TBI today?”

  “Not a word.”

  “Zach and Kirk called earlier. They want me to bring supplies and hike back on a trail they’ve found. Is that okay with you? I can use personal time.”

  “No need for that. I’m getting the feeling whatever’s happening up there in the mountains is related to our case too.”

  “I think they have to be. With the gun Cody stole, the murder of a man that’s part of the Moonshine Mafia, and now this strange stuff up in the woods, I can’t imagine it all being coincidence.”

  “Pigeon Forge and Cataloochee are directly across the mountain from each other. Sure wouldn’t take much to get from one to the other by horseback, would it?”

  “That’s a good point, Captain.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “You mind keeping an eye on Paul for a couple days?”

  “It would be my pleasure. The ex-wife has the kids on vacation this week anyway. Paul and I can stay here, and the boys at the fire station can show him the ropes.”

  “Sounds like fun.” It worked out well that their small town housed police and fire in the same building on occasions like these. School field trips were easy too.

  Next she dialed Dave. Last night’s restless sleep had been punctuated not only by fears for Cody but also inklings of a more sordid type about Dave’s whereabouts. “Hey, hon.”

  “Hey. Any news yet on the boy?”

  He’d remembered. Of course he had. It was all anyone in town could think about. “Maybe.” She couldn’t tell him the details though. That was something that always bothered her about her job. It made an impassable gap between them, like there was always something that kept her from being completely open with her husband. And she hated it. but she loved her job. “How’s the job going?”

  “Good. Should be home tonight.”

  “I’ll be glad to see you.”

  He cleared his throat. “I gotta run.”

 
A woman’s voice sounded in the background.

  Annalise couldn’t tell what she said, but her heart thudded to life. “Who’s that?”

  “The client. She has a question. I will talk to you later.”

  “Love—” The line went silent. “You.” Her sentiment floated over Mrs. Marshall’s lawn, alone and empty.

  She swiped sweaty palms down her thighs after tucking her phone into her belt clip. It was just a client. Just a woman Dave was fixing an air conditioner for. Innocent, harmless shop-talk. Her heart believed her, but her mind refused to relax.

  Chapter Twenty

  THE SMELL OF FRIED chicken reached Cody’s nose before the sound of Jimmy Vern approaching did. Cody pulled himself against the wall and held his breath. His face and head pounded at the thought of another blow.

  “Hey, boy. You hungry?”

  What did this new, friendlier tone mean?

  “I asked you a question. You want the food, you’ll answer me.”

  Jimmy Vern’s ugly, flashlight-lit face came into view.

  Cody’s eyes burned with the brightness. “Yes,” Cody whispered. “I’m hungry.”

  “Good. Brought you KFC.”

  That meant Jimmy Vern had left. Cody’s stomach dropped. He’d missed a chance at escaping. Not that he’d figured out how to get out of this stupid, wet, dark cellar.

  “Eat up. Want some soda?” Jimmy Vern held out a large cup.

  When Cody didn’t make a move to take it, Jimmy Vern sat it beside Cody. Why was Jimmy Vern being so kind? A pang shot through Cody’s stomach that wasn’t just the hunger.

  “Go on, boy. I ain’t gonna bite.” Jimmy Vern threw back his head and laughed.

  Cody wasn’t sure what was so funny. He tentatively picked up the red and white box and opened the top. His mouth instantly watered. No matter Jimmy Vern’s motivations, food was food. He tore off a juicy chunk of crispy-breaded chicken and barely resisted the urge to moan, following it with a long, cold sip of Dr. Pepper. The juice and salt stung his hand as it ran down. Once the first taste melted in his mouth, all his resistance evaporated. He had never remembered feeling so hungry or eating a meal faster.

  “There,” Jimmy Vern leaned back in smug satisfaction, “Ain’t that better?”

  Cody nodded, just barely.

  “I’m sorry ’bout yesterday. I lost my temper. I shouldn’ta struck you.”

  This was a trick. It had to be.

  “All’s I want is for you to tell me where the money is. Simple. Do that, and I let you go.”

  Maybe Cody should just tell Jimmy Vern about Paul. The jerk had left him and Braden behind after all. No. He was no snitch. He clamped his lips tighter together.

  “Don’t you want to get home to that sweet momma of yours?”

  Cody did not like the light that danced in Jimmy Vern’s eyes. Not one little bit. “Don’t you talk about my mom.”

  “I’m sure she’s real worried by now. Daddy too.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “You’ve been all over the news, don’t you know?” Jimmy Vern chuckled. “Well, how would you know? You’ve been stuck down here.”

  Again, Cody failed to find the humor. But he wasn’t about to tell Jimmy Vern that little piece of information.

  “Maybe I should just go pick her up too. I bet if I tossed her in here with you for a day or so, you’d both be about ready to talk. Eh?”

  Chills ran down Cody’s arms. The food he’d scarfed down threatened to make a reappearance. “I really don’t know where your money is.”

  “But you know who does, don’t you?”

  He pictured his mom’s face. Alone. Vulnerable. He had to do something. To point Jimmy Vern in another direction. “There was another boy with me.” He’d tell about Paul, but he wouldn’t throw Braden under the bus. Paul had Orrin to watch out for him.

  “And? What was his name?”

  “Paul. Paul Martin.” Shame burned his throat. If only he had a way to warn Paul. To tell him trouble was headed his way.

  “You think he took my money?”

  “I never saw money. I swear.”

  Jimmy Vern smiled.

  But it didn’t bring Cody any comfort.

  “I believe you. I really do. It’s too bad you had to go and take my gun, Cody. Now the cops have it, and they are gonna pin something on me I didn’t do.”

  Oh, yeah, like Cody believed Jimmy Vern was innocent. “I wiped it down real good before I dumped it. Didn’t want my fingerprints on it.”

  “Good. That was real smart.” Jimmy Vern sprang toward Cody and dropped to his haunches inches before him.

  Cody recoiled.

  “You’d better hope this Paul kid knows where my money is, or I may just decide to pay a visit to your momma after all.”

  WHEN SHE AGREED TO meet up with Zach, she’d forgotten, momentarily, about Dave. That couldn’t be a good sign. After seven years of marriage, her first thought should have automatically been to call and get his opinion. He wouldn’t be happy about her being on an overnight trip with Zach. Her stomach filled with lead as she dialed. He would be upset that she had to cancel on him again.

  When his voicemail picked up, she sighed. “Hey, hon. I’m sorry, but I won’t be home tonight. I’ve got to run over to North Carolina and follow a lead on Cody’s kidnapping.” What was it people said? An omission of full truth, but not a lie. “I love you. I’ll try to call you when I know more.”

  Her relief was short-lived. On its heels more doubts than ever. Something was wrong with Dave. Something was wrong, and in the pit of her heart she feared she already knew what it was.

  She shook her head and drew her focus back onto the horrible, death-defying road before her. How on earth did people bring campers down this road? How did whoever brought that horse trailer in do it?

  A text from Captain Brooks had come in just before she started the descent into the Cataloochee Valley. The APB had gone out on the truck and a description of the man, along with the sketch. Lord, please let someone recognize them. Please give us something substantial to go on. Strengthen Brian and Celine while they wait. And, Lord, please, I beg you, keep Cody alive until we can get there.

  Zach and Kirk were the campground’s only occupants.

  She pulled into the parking space and waved. She checked her email but found she had no signal. Too bad. She wanted to see the sketch. It would probably have to wait until she got to the top of the mountain.

  Zach’s mouth stretched into a broad grin. “’Bout time you made it.”

  She stepped from the truck, and Zach immediately pulled her into one of his famous bear hugs. The tension she’d brought with her from Tennessee melted from her body and drifted away on the summer night’s breeze.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” He planted a kiss on top of her head.

  “Yeah you are. I brought food.”

  “Precisely.”

  The three of them worked together to unload the gear she’d brought. They whipped up a quick dinner of roasted hot dogs and baked beans and sat around the dying fire munching Oreos. Tomorrow would be a beast, and who knew what would happen with either case. But for the moment, Annalise relaxed into the camp chair and shut the worry-wheel down for the night.

  ZACH COULDN’T SLEEP, though he knew he desperately needed to. The way Annalise had softened into his arms when she arrived brought back memories of their childhood. Since she’d married Dave, something about their connection had changed. Obviously. But he missed her trusting him completely with every problem she had. Missed being the one to make it better, or if he couldn’t fix it, at least make her smile.

  His best friend was hurting, and she was only a few feet away. The only thing between them a few sheets of canvas and Kirk. When this case was over, whether Annalise joined the task force or not, he would be a better friend. Would be more available for her. Something told him she was going to need that more than ever before.

  Four a.m. came before he was ready for it. But the alarms o
n Annalise’s and Kirk’s phones sounded, and he knew the time for fighting to get sleep was over. In a way it was a relief. He should sleep like a rock tonight.

  They each packed their tents and added them to their packs. Kirk took the lead, and Zach hung back with Annalise. “What’s Dave think about all this?”

  “Don’t know. Haven’t talked to him.”

  “Think he’ll be mad?”

  “I’d like to say no, but I have a feeling he will be.”

  “When did he start hating me so much?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Ouch. I thought you would at least say, ‘He doesn’t hate you, Zach.’”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t say that, because I honestly just don’t know what’s going on with him.”

  “Do you think—” he shook his head. “You know what, never mind.”

  “It’s crossed my mind, I’m not gonna lie.”

  How could Dave even think about leaving someone like Annalise?

  “So, what do you know about this whole thing?”

  “We know the truck doesn’t have plates and the horses went in a direction where there are no marked trails, by foot or horse.”

  “Have you looked at the map?”

  He zipped his pack. “Not really. I mean, I know in my head where we’re at.”

  “Directly, almost a straight line, across from Pigeon Forge.”

  “That right?”

  “I don’t know what to expect, but my gut is telling me Jimmy Vern found a new location for his moonshine operation.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  WHAT DID THE DRIED corn mean? The little individual kernels had dotted the path for about half an hour. Had the guys noticed them? Food for the horses, maybe.

  Or fodder for the whiskey.

  “Zach?”

  “Yeah?” He stopped right in front of her and took a swig of water.

  “Look down.”

  A yellow kernel lay next to his right boot. “What do you make of that, Annalise?”

  “Corn whiskey?”

  “Think this is the supply route for the still?”

  “I’d say it’s a good bet.”

  Kirk had finally noticed their lag and returned. “What’s up?”