Chapter 24
Raeleen
Humming to myself, I cleaned up my office, putting everything away in its place so it’d be ready for me tomorrow. It was past closing time, and though I wasn’t going to be seeing Pyre tonight—he had some business going on with his MC—I’d spent most of the day thinking of him.
It’d been two weeks since the barbecue. Yet, it felt as though I’d known him all my life.
Like I’d been loved by him that long, too.
Not that either of us had said the L word just yet.
But I was already falling. How could I not?
He was perfect for me. I’d found him yesterday morning, still sleeping in my bed and Penny had been curled up next to him, soaking up his heat.
He’d stirred when I came into the room, glanced down at her, and just tucked her into his side more.
He’d fallen back asleep with his arm curled protectively around her. He slept with me the same way.
He’d sleep the same way with our babies, too.
Grabbing my bag, I turned toward my door, then froze as my cell phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket and answered. “Hi, Owen.”
“Hi, Rae. Listen, I’m sorry, I know it’s late and you’re probably on your way home, but I got a call out here at the old covered bridge for an abandoned vehicle. Came to check it out and found a body. I can’t get the tow truck out here until you come to do your preliminary examination.”
“That’s okay, Owen,” I told him. This was just a part of the job. I’d stayed late today to speak with a family regarding arrangements for their aunt’s funeral that was only a week away. Otherwise, I would be at home getting this call. “I’ll be out there as quickly as I can.”
“Thanks, Rae. The guys are here taking photos and gathering evidence now. They should be finished by the time you get here.”
I hung up the phone after saying goodbye and quickly changed into different clothes.
I wasn’t going to go out into the field to examine a body in my skirt and nice dress shoes.
And I didn’t greet families here in jeans and an old ratty college T-shirt.
I bent down and tied my sneakers, then grabbed my bag I kept on hand for just such calls.
I hadn’t asked if he suspected a homicide.
Calling me out to do an examination before a body was moved was standard procedure.
So was taking photos of the scene and gathering evidence.
We did this for every death that happened in Sentinel.
Well, except the man who’d died in his jail cell.
Since he’d already been detained, they’d just gotten him over to me as quickly as possible.
I made the drive out to the old covered bridge off Warren Road.
The condition of the dirt road the last few miles forced me go slowly, but otherwise I made good time.
It was one of those ridiculous roads that had the washboard effect, so either you drove real slow, or super-fast and wore out your car.
I chose slow. I was getting there right as the deputies were finishing up.
“Rae, how you doing?” a younger officer with a friendly smile asked as he packed up his camera equipment.
“I’m good, Chad, thank you. How are you?”
“Doing good. Sorry to drag you out here so late.”
It was around seven o’clock now. The sun would be going down in about an hour, not that the time or darkness mattered when there was work to do. I waved off his apology. “That’s alright. Just glad I can help you guys out.”
He grinned. “Well, there’s another call that just came in. Domestic dispute,” he said, “so the Sheriff’s got most of us heading back to town. Sheriff’ll be out here with you the whole time, though.”
“Okay, thank you.”
He tipped the hat he always wore. “See you later.”
“Bye,” I said, then smiled at the other deputies who came up to the line of vehicles.
I made my way over to where Owen was standing near the abandoned SUV. “What’ve we got?”
He looked over at me. “Rhett called it in on his way out to check his cows in his southernmost field. Said it wasn’t here yesterday.”
I nodded and motioned at the door handle, asking silently if I could open it.
“Whole thing’s been swept, so touch whatever you need. Bit messy in there,” he warned.
Pulling on my gloves, I nodded in acknowledgment and opened the door. He wasn’t wrong. Glancing over my shoulder at him, I arched a brow. “I don’t need to tell you this is a homicide.”
“Nope.”
I studied the blade with a frown. “There’s no brand on this knife.”
“We think the murderer made it himself, or had it custom made. It’s…unique.”
I nodded. “That would be my guess considering the lack of branding and the extensive embellishment on it. Whoever made it is talented.” The last was said to myself more than Owen.
I reached down into my bag and grabbed my own camera.
Even though the deputies already took their photos, I wanted my own.
I wanted to make sure I got the depth of the blade, angle of penetration, as well as the body’s positioning.
The knife could be jostled during transportation to my funeral home and that would throw off my autopsy results.
Taking a picture of the blade in his chest, I tilted my head and studied it. “There’s something written in the steel.”
Owen moved closer and leaned in to look. “Can’t make out what it says.”
“Too much is buried in his chest. I’ll make sure to let you know once I pull it out during autopsy.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you take fingerprints?”
“Yeah, his name’s Dan Channing. Lives over in Boise according to his license.”
“What’s he doing here?” I wondered out loud. “Taking a vacation doesn’t usually end in murder. Or involve Sentinel for that matter.”
“That’s what I’m going to try to find out.”
I continued my examination of the body, speaking into my recorder and taking photos as I needed. “I’m just about done,” I told Owen, forty-five minutes later. Twilight had set in, so I pulled my flashlight out of my bag to make it easier to see inside the interior of the vehicle.
“Perfect,” he said, jerking his head toward the road. “Looks like the tow truck is finally here. I’m going to go speak to Scott. Let him know where to drop this vehicle off at. Then we’ll get the body onto the stretcher and into the van.”
Owen had one of the deputies drop off the removal van—the vehicle they transported bodies in—once he’d realized someone was in the SUV. “I can bring you back out for your Tahoe afterward,” I offered.
He grinned at me as he walked backward toward the set of lights. “Thanks Rae. I appreciate that.”
Turning back to the SUV, I leaned in to check the knife’s positioning one last time. A shout had my head jerking up and I spun and gasped as I heard a gunshot and watched Owen crumple to the ground. “Oh my God!”
I ducked down below the hood of the SUV.
That wasn’t Scott’s tow truck. It was coming closer toward where I was hiding behind the vehicle.
My eyes darted to where Owen was still lying, motionless.
“Please don’t be dead,” I whispered. I ran to the back of the SUV and waited until the truck passed, then did a crouch run over to the removal van.
A quick look inside told me the keys weren’t in the ignition.
Owen probably had them in his pocket. I tried the radio but it apparently wouldn’t work without having the keys.
Not that it was a good idea to turn the vehicle on to get the radio going anyway.
I ran toward Owen, praying I wasn’t going to find him dead.
I added a quick prayer in there that I wasn’t about to get shot in the back.
“Fuck! That’s three now,” an angry male voice shouted.
The sun was down and as long as I moved quietly, the rapidly darkening skies would work in my favor.
“Who the fuck keeps offing our damn people?” another voice asked. “Dolan’s going to be pissed. This fucker was supposed to bring this shipment back to Boise and give it to Smitty.”
“Shit. The shipment.”
I stopped next to Owen, kneeling in the dirt and checking for a pulse.
My flashlight was still in my hand, though I’d turned it off as soon as I heard the shot.
Sighing in relief as Owen’s pulse thrummed against my fingers, I thought about what to do.
I couldn’t pull him off the road because then they’d know someone was out here.
And I wasn’t sure I could move him on my own anyway. Owen was a big man.
Grabbing his radio from his belt, I squinted down at it.
He’d shown me as soon as he took over as sheriff how to use it and how to call for help.
That was something Denison—the former sheriff—had never bothered to do, and Ainsley hadn’t been sheriff long enough for her to think of it.
The radio was already on, but I turned it down.
Pushing the red button at the top, I spun the dial.
Owen had explained that doing that would put the distress call out onto all channels.
I pressed the radio to my ear, flicking through the channels until I heard the sheriff office dispatcher calling out to whoever had put the call out.
I pressed the button and whispered into the mic I’d taken off of Owen’s shoulder.
“This is Raeleen Moore. I’m out at the old covered bridge off Warren Road with Sheriff Ward. Some men showed up and shot Owen.”
I was watching the men rip through the SUV, looking for something, whatever the driver had been carrying, as I spoke. I released the button on the radio and listened as the dispatcher put the call out to the others. Deputies began answering that they were on their way.
My heart was hammering against my chest because even though help was on the way, they were at least fifteen minutes out, even going as fast as they could.
There was no way the four men who’d crawled out of the truck were going to be busy with that SUV for that long.
I looked around, frantically thinking about what I should do.
I couldn’t leave Owen out here on the road.
He was bleeding, though it looked like the bullet had just grazed his temple, but he was out like a light.
If I left him on the road they could shoot him again, or run him over.
I clipped his radio to his belt, then put my flashlight in the empty loop I found next to it.
There was no other choice. I stood slowly and grasped him under the arms. My father had shown me and my brothers how to do a cradle drag way back in the day.
My brothers had laughed at me hysterically as I tried to drag their huge asses even a few feet across our yard.
Hooking my elbows under his arm pits, I began to pull and yank on him.
My relief was instantaneous as I began to drag him inch by inch off the road.
It was slow going. Even if I could have done it quickly—which was impossible because Owen weighed a ton—I’d need to go slow so I didn’t catch the men’s attention.
I was huffing and puffing long before I managed to drag him over to where the land began to slope downward toward the river.
As soon as we hit that spot things went a little faster and I dragged him down under the bridge.
I grabbed his gun from his holster, my hands shaking, saying a silent thank you to my father for teaching me so many things.
When I was a young woman I thought it was ridiculous that he insisted I learn how to do some of these things, like shoot a gun.
Now I was so grateful I was going to kiss his cheek the moment I saw him again.
I will see him again.
It wasn’t going to be long now before these men noticed Owen was missing and came searching for him. I was going to do everything in my power to make sure we both made it home.