by Kylie Brant
She seemed like she was about to object when her gaze fixed on something across the room. Her expression stilled.
Turning, he looked in the direction she was staring.
“The man in the picture . . . he’s the former sheriff?”
Ryder winced mentally as he looked at the side-by-side formal pictures of him and his dad. Stepping into the sheriff’s position in his father’s posthumous shoes had been a delicate situation when it came to staff. Butch had been respected by his employees. Change had to be instituted incrementally. After two years on the job, the only remaining photo of the man was in here. And Ryder wasn’t sure how much longer diplomacy would have him waiting to take the final picture down.
“Butch Talbot.”
Her eyes jerked to his. “Your . . . father?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t look like him.”
There was a note in her tone he would have liked to explore further. She’d seemed shocked when she saw the photo. But there was something else in her expression too. Something he didn’t have the time to probe.
“I favor my mom.” He opened the door and she moved through it faster than she’d entered. In a few minutes Ryder was going to be neck-deep in the newest details of the investigation again.
But a part of him was going to keep puzzling over Cady’s reaction to Butch Talbot’s picture.
Samuel
The car door opened and David Sutton slid inside, two fast-food sacks in one hand.
“You took your sweet time,” Samuel noted. Too many hours on the outside had been spent waiting on the man for one reason or another.
The other man reached for the controls to the heater. “Jesus. It’s fucking freezing in here. It took me a while to find you. Your directions weren’t the greatest.”
“I can only run the car for a few minutes at a time to warm up. I’m practically out of gas. And I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.” Samuel grabbed at one of the bags and dug into it. He’d taken some food when he’d packed up his things, but the supplies hadn’t lasted long.
David gave a nasty smile. “Guess you didn’t figure you’d have to live in ol’ Joe’s crappy car for a few hours.”
“A few?” The temper that had simmered in him since yesterday threatened to bubble over. After the owner of the rentals had come to talk to him, Samuel had known he’d have to move quickly. What he hadn’t figured on was waiting nearly twenty-four hours in this shitty abandoned farmyard for Sutton to get here. “I could have walked across the state in the time it took you to follow a few simple directions.”
“It took a while to make all new arrangements. We figured on you staying in the cabin for the duration. What happened?”
“Someone recognized me. I got out before the cops could arrive.” Samuel unwrapped a cheeseburger and bit into it.
“Okay, so I used my false ID and one of my cards to get you the rental.” David nodded at the two-year-old sedan vehicle he’d parked. “I found a secluded set of cabins in the Bryson City area. Farther into the mountains. I still think a motel would have been better. They might be looking at cabins in this part of the state since finding your place yesterday.”
“I’m not worried about it.” The first sandwich gone, Samuel began eating some fries. Food was fuel, but he knew it wouldn’t bring him back to full strength. It was impossible to know how much of his blood and organs had been removed while he’d been locked up. He could only be certain that the Takers had used the stolen material to strengthen themselves at his expense. That’s what he called those who would prey on his strength for their own purposes. Law enforcement officers were their helpers, which was how he’d been put away. His enemies would stop at nothing to rob him of his superior DNA. And there was only one way to rebuild it.
Wadding up the sandwich wrapper, he asked, “Did you bring it?” At David’s blank look, Samuel mentally sighed. The man had never been a genius. But it was his habit of thinking he was smarter than he was that was truly annoying. “My new ID. You said you used yours to acquire the rental.” He pointed to the car parked next to them.
“What? Oh yeah. I had to get my hands on some fake cards since you still won’t allow me access to the money you paid me.”
The man’s whining was as annoying as a mosquito’s buzz. Samuel didn’t necessarily trust him, but he understood him, and that was equally vital. Their monetary arrangement had been much like Samuel and Joe’s. The money had been put in an overseas account for David, but he couldn’t get at it until Samuel supplied the password. In return for David’s patient waiting, Samuel had provided other information David had long sought. But David was wrong if he thought their partnership was an equal one. “I’ll ask again. Did. You. Bring. It?”
“Your passport and ID?” David reached into the second bag and pulled out a sandwich. “I’ve got it in a safe place. I’ll give it to you when you’ve upheld your part of the deal. I’ve busted my ass for you. It’s time for you to show your gratitude.”
“David.” Samuel gave the man a chilly smile. “You’re my oldest friend. Where’s the trust?”
“I’ve been your errand boy for months now. I’d say I’ve done my part.”
“The cabin Joe rented was nice.” David looked confused by the change of subject. “Rustic, but peaceful surroundings, as promised. Details are important, don’t you agree?”
The other man took a huge bite of the cheeseburger. “Yeah. Sure.”
“I appreciate a friend who follows instructions specifically. It’s unfortunate you aren’t as keen on detail as Joe was.”
David had always had a hard time controlling his temper. “Fuck you. I’ve done every damn thing we agreed on. You wouldn’t be sitting here if not for me.”
“If that were true, Sheila Preston wouldn’t be lying in a hospital instead of in a grave.”
David looked like he was having a difficult time swallowing. “Bullshit. The explosion was all over the news. She’s dead, but her kids are at her sister’s. A sweet little twofer for you.”
“Sisters.” Samuel allowed himself a moment to contemplate the treat before tucking the fact away. “The idea is delightful. But your sloppiness isn’t. Preston isn’t dead. You should have made sure. You know how I feel about loose ends.”
“What the hell? The bomb I wired to her ignition was crude, sure, but there shouldn’t have been anything left of the bitch but pink mist. As soon as she turned the key in the ignition . . .”
Samuel sighed and reached into the bag on his lap to withdraw the remaining sandwich. “Either it malfunctioned or she had a remote start. You have some unfinished business to take care of. She’s at Charlotte Memorial. I’m a cautious and meticulous man. You should be as well.”
“How hard could it be to sneak onto her floor in the middle of the night and hold a pillow over the bitch’s face? She’ll be taken care of.”
“I hope so.” The second sandwich gone, Samuel held out a hand silently. Watched the silent war in the other man’s expression before he handed him the uneaten one from his sack.
“Tell me about the new arrangements.”
“I got a second rental from a different company. It’s parked at the motel I’ve been staying at. As for the other . . . a few more days and we’ll be ready to move.”
“Not a few more days. Two days.”
“I can’t be ready that fast.”
Samuel unwrapped the sandwich and bit into it. He chewed and swallowed before replying, “Forty-eight hours and then I’m out of this state and out of the country.” That should have been his first move once he was free. However, having to depend on others for assistance meant he wasn’t totally in charge of the timeline. “If you’re not ready by then, I’ll be . . . displeased.”
David took a long time to reply. “Yeah. Okay. I’m going to have to move fast, but maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. They’ve got an army looking for you.” He smirked. “I gotta protect my investment. I’ll drive you to the cabin I rented for yo
u and then walk back down to the road and call an Uber. Using one of my burners and a fake card, it should be safe enough. I’ll have them drop me at the casino and head to the motel room on foot.”
Samuel frowned as he dug in his bag for a napkin and wiped his fingers carefully. “After we part ways, make sure you walk a few miles through the woods before you find a road. If someone recognizes you, I don’t want you anywhere near where I’ll be staying.” His mood lightened when he saw David’s hand curl into a fist. The man’s temper had often gotten ahead of his good sense. But Samuel wasn’t concerned. David had too much to lose to cross him now.
“All right, then,” David managed finally. “Let’s get going before it’s full light.”
Cady
It helped to concentrate on the road. To remain focused on the drivers and the passing scenery. Then Cady wasn’t thinking about the picture hanging in Ryder’s office. The one he’d said was his father. Butch Talbot.
A name to go with a face in the snippet of memory that occasionally surfaced in her consciousness before receding, as if withdrawn by an invisible tide. Another flash from the past. Cady was never sure if they were real or imagined.
But the emotions accompanying those bits of recollection were genuine enough. Confusion. Fear. And . . . shame? For what, she’d never been certain. But seeing the image had hurtled her back to her childhood. She’d been five or six. Padding out of bed when she heard a noise. She could still feel the cold plank floor beneath her bare feet. Cady could see the girl she’d been standing in the doorway of the kitchen. It was a different house every year, it’d seemed like, but the details remained the same. Cracked linoleum. Sagging countertops. A refrigerator that didn’t keep much cold.
And that night, a man sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, with her mom on his lap. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and his hand was inside her mom’s shirt. Shock had held Cady rooted in place.
Her mom had tried to rise. The man’s arm tightened around her, preventing it. “Go on back to bed, baby.” Hannah had brushed the hair back from her face and tried to smile. “Get, now. I’ll see you in the morning.”
But she hadn’t moved. Couldn’t.
“You heard your mama. Get.”
The man’s rumbling tone had held a command, one the child in her recognized and obeyed. She’d run back to her bedroom and dove under the covers.
Her subconscious had long mimicked the action. Every time she’d remembered the scene, the man’s features had been blurry. Indistinct. She recalled a uniform of some sort. But a bolt of familiarity had twisted through her when she saw the picture in Ryder’s office. The stranger had Butch Talbot’s face.
That troubled her on some level, although she wasn’t sure why. Cady slowed until she could pass the driver in front of her, who was moving with the dedicated speed of a tortoise. There had been other men. Hannah Maddix was the type of woman who’d needed someone to lean on. And the times when there wasn’t a man in the picture often corresponded to those periods they’d had to live at Alma’s.
The thought of the time they’d spent at her aunt’s had Cady’s mind shuttering. She wasn’t up to examining those memories. One jolt from the past was enough for the day.
There were few things in her childhood she really cared to dwell on.
“Gracious, this is just so exciting!” Madeline Grayson Carson showed them into a sleekly furnished living room. Cady sat gingerly on a white sofa decorated with throw pillows in black and scarlet. The space looked like something out of a home decorator magazine. Although their background check revealed Grayson had two children, their immaculate house showed no signs of them.
Since Carson lived in Asheville, Cady and Miguel had decided to stop here first before proceeding to the hospital in Charlotte in the hopes of talking to Sheila Preston. Somehow Cady didn’t think Preston would be as excited to see them as Madeline appeared to be.
The other woman sank on the edge of the sofa and clasped one knee. “This is a coincidence. I just ran into Aurora’s daughter in the grocery store yesterday. It was such a shock.” The woman’s hand fluttered to her chest. “She’s the picture of her mama. I had no idea they’d allowed the girl to go free.”
“She’s the one who gave us your name. How long did you know Aurora Pullman?”
“We met a few days before college classes started our freshman year. But we’d been communicating the whole summer. The university gives roommates each other’s name so they can start to get acquainted, and we hit it off right away.” The woman smiled. “All of my favorite college memories involve Aurora. Except for the ones involving college boys.” This was accompanied with a sidelong glance at Miguel.
Cady managed, barely, to avoid rolling her eyes. She and Rodriguez had worked together long enough to recognize which of them was the more likely to elicit information from their subjects. And it was pretty clear he was up in this situation.
“Did you room together all four years?” he asked the woman.
“We did. Aurora’s parents died when we were sophomores. She was absolutely devastated, but it was their demand she live in the dorms. After they passed . . .” Madeline lifted a shoulder. “We moved into a house near campus with two other girls. And Aurora got a bit wilder. Maybe we all did. She was sort of the sun in the group. We moved in her orbit.”
“Is that when she met David Sutton?”
Madeline leaned toward Miguel conspiratorially. “I don’t recognize the name. Aurora went through men like tissues. I never bothered learning their last names, because none of them were around long enough to make the effort worth it.”
Cady took the picture she’d run of the photo from Cisco’s and handed it to the woman. “This is Sutton.” She tapped his image.
Madeline sent her a sidelong glance. Good manners kept the woman from asking about Cady’s face. But she hadn’t been able to conceal her avid curiosity. She leaned closer, comprehension dawning in her expression. “Oh, the hunk. Romeo, we all called him. Aurora fell hard for him.”
“How long were they together?”
The woman pursed her red-slicked lips. Cady couldn’t help but think it was for Miguel’s benefit. “They started dating our senior year sometime. And then we graduated, and I moved to Asheville. Aurora stayed in Charlotte, at least for a few years. She’d gotten hooked up with the art community there. I know she and this guy—Sutton—broke up for a while, because every time I visited her she had someone new on the line. Then, once when I saw her, they were back together, and she was head over heels again.”
“Is he Eryn Pullman’s father?”
Madeline shrugged at Cady’s question. “Truth? I don’t know if Aurora could be sure. Like I said, her and guys . . .” The rest of her words trailed off. “But I don’t think so. She got pregnant several months after we graduated, and they’d broken up then. I’m still close with our friends from college. None of us really knew.”
“Do you remember any of David Sutton’s acquaintances?” Cady took Aldeen’s photo out of her coat and showed it to her.
Madeline’s eyes went wide. “Not the man who escaped a few days ago? No, heavens, of course not. Why would you even ask?”
“Because we have reason to believe the two men were friends.” Miguel took over again. “And since Aurora dated Sutton, she probably knew Aldeen.”
The woman shuddered. “I hate to even consider that. But I certainly never met him.”
“What about other friends of Sutton’s?” he pressed.
“I didn’t really run in the guy’s circle. I only saw him when he and Aurora partied with us.”
This was going nowhere fast. “Why did Aurora move back home?” Cady took the picture the woman held out, folded it, and put it back into her coat. “You said she was involved in the art scene. Why would she leave?”
“Well . . . Aurora said it was to provide Eryn more structure. But I wondered myself. She hated that house. She always said it. But maybe it was different without her strict parents the
re running her life. I sort of thought . . .” Madeline hesitated for a moment. “Something happened in Charlotte. I don’t know what, but it scared her, and believe me, Aurora Pullman didn’t scare easily. I talked to her on the phone every couple of weeks. But I never saw her after she moved back for at least a month, which was weird. We didn’t live far apart. And when we did get together she seemed . . . rattled. Same old Aurora on the outside, but nervy under the surface.”
A few more minutes of questioning didn’t elicit any further details, so after writing down the names and contact information for Aurora’s other closest friends, Cady and Miguel took their leave.
“I can’t help but believe we can interview every single one of these women”—Cady shook the list she held in her hand—“and we still won’t be any closer to a lead on David Sutton.” Reaching the car, they both slipped inside it.
“I’m too much of a gentleman to say I told you so.”
“When did that change?” she muttered, buckling herself in. “Let’s hope we have better luck at Charlotte Memorial Hospital.”
Cady’s boots rang hollowly on the hospital’s polished tile floors. The policeman stationed outside Preston’s room wore the CMPD uniform. “Maddix and Rodriguez.” They showed their credentials. “What’s the latest on Preston’s condition?”
The cop, Tom Lockhardt, according to his nameplate, shook his head. “Doctors have made their rounds but didn’t say a word to me when they left. I heard the nurses mention Preston’s condition had improved, though.”
Cady and Miguel exchanged a glance. This might be the only chance they were going to get, at least for the foreseeable future. “We need a few words with her.”
“So does the department. More than a few.” Lockhardt looked toward the nurses’ desk. “You’d better make it quick.”
Cady slipped inside the door, then stopped dead when she caught sight of the woman in the hospital bed. Only when she felt Miguel bump into the back of her did she remember to move.
