The minister began to speak and Carter was lost in the droning of his voice, deep in thought about Tamara, his dad, and his grandparents, when he detected movement and turned. It was Chelsea. As soon as she caught his eye, she mouthed something. Carter couldn’t make it out, but he didn’t want to show any outward signs, so he just raised one eyebrow slightly. Chelsea caught his expression and repeated it as Carter stared at her lips. Free? Breeze? Still not understanding, he watched again, and that time he got it: Trees. As he gave her a slight nod, she tipped her head back in the opposite direction. Not wanting to draw attention, Carter turned his back to the area she’d indicated and sent a quick text to Cruz: The daughter says there’s someone in the tree line to your right. When he turned back, he saw Cruz give him a glance that told him the message was received. The agent moved slowly but steadily, weaving his way through the crowd and heading to the left, then stealthily moving around to circle to the back of the tent where no one was standing. Carter knew he’d hug close to the tent and try to get a look at whatever Chelsea was seeing.
He’d never seen anybody sprint like that from a dead run, but Cruz’s long legs covered the distance between the tent and the tree line at a remarkable speed, and in seconds Carter and Sam both were on the move too, running as fast as they could toward the brush. It was all in vain. From a distance, Carter could hear the sound of a car door slamming and tires slinging gravel. They weren’t fast enough. When he reached the clearing on the other side, Cruz and Sam stood there, hands on their thighs, sucking in air. “Did you see the car?” Carter asked, breathless.
Cruz shook his head. “No. He was gone by the time we got here.”
“Damn it! So close …” Carter closed his eyes. No, no, no. They needed whoever it was.
“It’s okay. He knows somebody was on to him, and he’ll go back and tell whoever he’s working for or with. And that’s okay. We want them to know we’re looking. They’ll trip up and it’ll be easier to catch them. Good work, guys,” Cruz said and slapped Carter and Sam on the back.
They made their way to the tree line and stood there just at its edge, hesitant to disrupt the service any more than they already had. Sharla, Chelsea, and Lionel stood and dropped long-stemmed roses into the grave, and with the final prayer, the service was over. Attendees were shaking hands with the family and encouraging them, but Carter was concerned. Sharla’s drawn, ashen face looked totally and completely worn out. All he wanted was to get them back to the funeral home to pick up the food and then home to eat so they could rest. After telling Sam where the extra key was so he could drop Cruz off at the house, he gathered up Sharla, Chelsea, and Lionel and led them to the car.
He waited until he pulled out on the highway before he asked the question. “Chelsea, who did you see?”
“That was the guy who was doing the rally! I recognized him!”
“The one speaking and talking about arming yourselves?”
“No. This one was off to the side, but he was acting like he was running the show. I saw him telling the other guys what to do. And he was handing those bandages to kids to take around and pass out to people with the tattoos. There were copies of the tattoo, and he was giving them to people to pass out. It was like he was the boss or something.”
“Do you think you could describe him to a police sketch artist?”
She stared up at the car’s headliner for a few seconds before she answered. “Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know how that works, but I’d be willing to try it.”
“Okay. We don’t have one, but I know a few places that do. If I have to, I’ll take you to Nashville to get somebody down there to do it. We’ll find somebody, but anything you can give us will help.”
“Sheriff Melton? Who was that―”
“Carter. Call me Carter.”
The girl nodded. “Okay. Carter, who was that guy? The tall one? Dark hair? Very good looking?”
He hadn’t intended to tell the two college students, but he wasn’t going to let their question go unanswered. “That’s Cruz Livingston. He’s an FBI agent from Texas.”
Lionel sat straight up in the back seat. “FBI? Really? All the way from Texas?” Carter nodded. “Wow. This must really be serious.”
“It is. Two people died. That’s pretty damn serious. The blond man talking to me this afternoon? That’s Detective Curry from the Calloway County Sheriff’s Department. His wife used to be FBI, and she worked with Agent Livingston. She called him and told him about the case, and he wanted to help.”
“That’s pretty amazing, really, if you think about it,” Chelsea said, musing aloud. “To be so far away and be interested in coming here to help us.”
“Actually, he thinks this might relate to a case they’ve worked on,” Carter said as off-handedly as possible. No way did he want to answer questions about that.
“Oh. I see. Well, anyway, he’s here, and that’s great. And Mom, hey, he’s hot! You should get to know him!”
Carter glanced over at Sharla and saw her smile. “Nah. I’m already spoken for.”
Lionel spoke up. “What are you talking about? You haven’t seen anybody in years! That last guy, what was his name? Prick?” Chelsea started to laugh, and Carter couldn’t help but join in.
Sharla cried out, “No! His name was Pratt.”
“Well, he was a prick,” Lionel insisted.
“I’d call him more of a jerk,” Chelsea said. “Or a dick.”
“What are you laughing about?” Sharla almost yelled at Carter.
“Nothing. I’m not laughing,” Carter said, then busted out in guffaws again.
“It’s not funny! But he was kinda a dick,” Sharla grumbled.
Chelsea just wouldn’t let it go. “So go after Agent Livingston! What have you got to lose?”
Carter couldn’t help himself. “Me.”
Chelsea and Lionel both gave him the side-eye, and Chelsea squeaked out, “What?”
“Me. She’d lose me.”
The girl screwed up her face. “What are you talking about?”
“You want to tell them or shall I?” Carter asked, turning to look at Sharla there, her face red from stifling laughter.
“Oh, what the hell. Carter and I have been seeing each other.”
There was silence in the car. Finally, just as Carter was thinking he’d have to say something, Lionel said, “I guess you could do a lot worse.”
Two seconds later, they were all laughing so hard that Carter had to pull off the street and into a parking lot. “Wow, glowing endorsement you got there from Li,” Chelsea said through her laughter.
“Yeah. Don’t be too enthusiastic, Lionel, okay? You might hurt yourself,” Carter told him, still laughing.
“Oh, I’m just messing with you. You’re a pretty good guy, for a cop,” Lionel added, and the laughter started all over again.
“This was not how I’d planned to do this,” Sharla said as they all quieted down.
“Yeah, but it’s how it happened, so that’s just how it is. And I want you two to know,” he said, catching Chelsea and Lionel’s gazes in the rear view mirror, “that I love and respect Sharla, and I want to get to know both of you and have a good relationship with you because you’re important to her and you’re good people.”
Chelsea was the first to speak. “Mom, if you’re going to see somebody, I’m glad it’s Sher … Carter.”
“Yeah. I feel the same way,” Lionel threw in.
“Thanks. That means a lot to me,” Carter told them. “Now let’s get this food home and get you all settled for the evening. You need to get some rest. We’ll talk about the guy in the woods tomorrow.”
Twenty minutes later, everyone was safe and sound, the food was eaten and put away, and goodbyes were said. Sharla walked Carter to the car and when they reached it, she grabbed both sides of his belt and pulled him toward her. “Kiss me goodnight?”
“You bet.” His arms encircled her and he drew her in snug against him as he kissed her gently. “I love you, Shar
la. I hope I helped a little bit today,” he whispered against her cheek.
“It helped enormously. You can’t know how much. I love you, Carter. Thanks for everything. Talk to you tomorrow?”
“You bet. Get some sleep. Night.” As he pulled away, he looked back and could see Chelsea and Lionel watching out the window. They’d seen him kiss her.
And that was perfectly okay with him.
Chapter 7
His alarm went off like always, and Carter sat up. When he’d come in the night before, there’d been a note on the table: Gone on to bed. I hate flying. Talk to you in the morning. He’d stopped at the guest room’s door and he could hear Cruz sawing logs. Good thing the house was old and had thick walls.
He started a pot of coffee and made his way to the sofa. With the sound turned way down on the TV, he watched morning headlines on a news show on his streaming service, then checked his mail from the day before. Bill. Bill. Advertisement. AARP. They’d been pursuing him since he was twenty, and he wasn’t sure why. He was a long way from their membership requirements. Well, not a long way, but long enough.
“Mornin’,” a voice said in a Texas drawl and Carter looked up to see Cruz shuffle out of the bedroom.
“Hot coffee and donuts, as promised,” Carter said, pointing over his shoulder toward the kitchen.
“Thanks, man. Anything going on in the big wide world?”
“Nah. Auto workers’ strike. Middle Eastern country dropping bombs in another Middle Eastern country, and us planning to get right in the middle of it. So much for minding our own business. Oh, and somebody sent some white powder to the White House again.”
“Fucking assholes. They get everybody in an uproar and it turns out to be a hoax. Do they have any idea how much of the taxpayers’ money they waste with that stupid shit?” Cruz asked, and Carter chuckled.
“If they know, they don’t care.”
“Yeah. It’s all about them.” He heard Cruz take a slurp of coffee and since he didn’t spit it across the room, it must’ve been to his liking.
“Oh, by the way, I asked Chelsea if she thought she could work with a police sketch artist to get us a drawing of the person she saw yesterday. She said he was at the rally, and he seemed―”
“Stop right there. Didn’t want to say anything in front of everybody else, but I saw him and I know who he is,” Cruz said, plopping down on the sofa after setting his cup on the coffee table.
“You do?”
“Yup.” He took another slurping sip and set the cup down again. “Name’s Paul Angelico. Actually, Paolo. Funny name for Satan incarnate, Angelico. They call him Capo Paolo. Means Boss Paul in Italian.”
“I take it he’s the head of this La Tana del Lupo?”
“Yes. And if he’s here, there’s got to be a really good reason.”
“The rally?”
“No. More than that. It’s got to be big. Something very important.” Both men sat there, staring into their coffee cups. “I mean, I have no idea what, but he didn’t just happen to hold a rally here. Do you know if there have been any anywhere else?”
“We’ve had zero luck finding out anything about the campus group.” Carter took another sip of coffee and balanced the cup on his thigh. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know yet, but something’s bothering me. Let’s get to the office and let me dig into what you’ve got.”
They stepped into the office in less than forty-five minutes, ready for the day. Edwards and Durst were getting ready to head out, and Lewis and Watson were scheduled to come in at three. After introductions, the two deputies left and Carter and Cruz were alone to work.
The small storage area turned conference room was all Carter had, so they spread everything out on the table and started going through it piece by piece. When he got to the robbery, Cruz stopped him. “So do you know where these guys are?”
“Yeah. High sec, fed lodging, Pennington Gap, Virginia.”
“Life?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you requested their records?”
That hadn’t even occurred to Carter. “No, but I will.”
“Don’t. We’ll go there. O’Fallon, Missouri?” Carter nodded. “We can drive there, right?”
“Yeah. About three and a half hours.”
“Good. We need to do that. Call them and let them know we’re coming and what we’ll need.”
“Will do.”
“Okay. Keep going.”
It took another hour, but Carter got through everything they had. “Oh, and I got this last night.” He pulled out the business card and held it up. “Professor at the university. He said he might have some information on the group.”
“That’s good, seeing as how we have nothing up to now. I’ve been thinking about it, Carter.” Cruz stared him in the eyes, and Carter was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like what the agent had to say. “We need to let everybody know I’m here. We won’t get anywhere if I ruffle feathers.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that. I’m also afraid you’re right.”
“I’ll let you handle that. We can have a get-together and you can introduce me, or you can just let them run into me as we go, but they need to at least know I’m here.”
“I’ll handle it. I don’t want to put you in a difficult position.”
Cruz smiled. “They won’t like me being here, but they’ll have to live with it. As long as we figure this out, I don’t care if they like me and want me here or not. Doesn’t matter. I’m here to do a job. But there’s no quicker way to make an enemy than to blindside somebody.”
Carter nodded. He’d hoped to keep Cruz as his ace in the hole, but the agent was right and Carter was just being juvenile about it. Yeah, they were looked down upon by the “big boys,” but he was confident in his ability to do his job and do it well. Why should he care what they thought? “I’ll shoot out an email, let everybody know you’re here and what your role will be. I’ll also call the police department in O’Fallon and let them know we’re going to be coming to go through the records.” As he spoke, he wondered how he was going to do everything he needed to do as sheriff and still work on the case.
He hadn’t realized he was sitting still and silent when Cruz’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Carter?” Lifting his head, he let Cruz catch his gaze and hold it. “Listen to me. I’m here to help. While you’re working on this, you’re also the sheriff of this county. You’ve got deputies depending on you, and you’ve got the residents of a county who expect you to be on your toes. I’m not going to lock you out of anything or keep anything from you. Anything I learn, you’ll know about. Can you do that?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Carter felt like his head was going to explode. So much to do, so little time, and he felt so pressured.
“Good. I’ll go to the university and talk to the professor. Call him and tell him you’re sending me, and I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. While I’m gone, call O’Fallon. Also, check to see if the prison where those guys are will let us visit because after we read their records, we may want to go there.”
“True. I’ll call them.”
“Now, do me a favor. Call Sharla and take her to dinner. Try to relax a little. Have a couple of drinks, dance, and have a pleasant evening. I’ll call you when I finish with the professor, and then I’ll make dinner plans with Sam and Dahlia before I come back. I’ll be back long before you are and, trust me, I can entertain myself. Do it, Carter. Take a deep breath. We’ve got this, bud.”
The kindness in Cruz’s eyes was a salve to Carter’s battered soul. It was okay. Things were going to be fine. Someone besides him and Sam was taking up the torch, and it would all be okay.
An hour later, he’d been told by the prison that they could announce their intention to visit as late as six hours beforehand, and the O’Fallon Police Department said they’d welcome the two law enforcement officers anytime. Maybe they’d get some answers soon. He remembered Sharla’s face from the day b
efore, tired and puffy. That was how his brain felt.
But he was pretty sure everything would be fine in her arms.
“I’m so tired. Can we just stay in?” Sharla whined into the phone.
That made Carter sigh. So much for having a fun, relaxing evening. Then he realized if they did that, they could sit around in pajamas. That would be very relaxing. “Okay. Want me to come there, or do you want to come here?”
“Can I come there? I won’t feel so pressured to run the washing machine or empty the dishwasher.”
“Sure. Bring clothes so you can go straight to work. That’ll save you time, babe.”
“I will. I’ll be there in a bit. Love you, Carter.”
“Love you too, baby. Be careful.”
Carter thought about it. Would it bother Cruz for Sharla to be there? Probably not. They were all adults. What did he need to do before she got there? Nothing. There were coffee cups in the sink and his sheets needed to be changed, but other than that, the house was in good shape. He paid Angie Proctor to clean once a week, and she’d always done a good job. It was almost time to go home, and he wrote up notes for the guys leaving and those coming in. Everything was almost done when the door opened and he looked up.
Penny Tadlock. Well, fuck me, Carter thought. “There you are, Sheriff Melton! I haven’t seen you in forever!” she cooed as she waved to him.
Carter got up from the big common desk and went to the counter. “How are you, Penny?”
“I’m fine! Thank you for asking! And how are you?”
“Quite well, thanks. What can I help you with?”
“I was wondering what you were doing next Tuesday. I’m having a little get-together at my house, and thought you might want to come.”
“I doubt I’d be able to, but thanks for inviting me.”
Shelter for Sharla Page 12
