Chapter 18
Chapter 18
S he woke sometime later to Cal petting her head. She sat up, blinking at him in the darkness. Did he find it odd to have her there?
“In Africa, grief isn’t solitary. It’s shared between friends,” she explained. He patted the bed beside him. She climbed over and lay down beside him. The room was dark. She couldn’t make out more than his silhouette.
“Can I bring you some food or water?” she offered.
He shook his head. His throat worked, swallowing convulsively with renewed memories.
“Can I hold you?” she whispered.
He nodded. She shifted, drawing his head onto her chest in a motherly gesture of comfort. The dam broke and he sobbed, clutching her close as he drenched her shirt with emotion. She hoped it would be enough, that it would all come spilling out and ease the ache inside him, but of course it wouldn’t. It would take time—days and weeks and months and maybe even years to purge all that was in his heart. Bailey didn’t speak a word, didn’t try to tell him everything would be okay or to let it go. She simply held on and let it happen, let the tears eke out of him little by little until he was spent and fell back asleep. And even then she didn’t let go. She held him until she fell asleep, their bodies clutched together like two halves of a whole.
In the morning when she woke, Cal was gone. She rolled out of bed and went to the kitchen where she saw him sitting at the table, staring at nothing. She made a pot of coffee and, when it was finished, poured him a generous cup and set it before him.
“Thanks,” he said on autopilot.
“What can I do?” she asked, pouring her own cup and sitting down across from him.
He shook his head. “I have to call my brother,” he choked.
“Would you like me to do it for you?” she asked.
“I should be the one.”
“You don’t have to. It’s going to be hard for him to hear it, no matter who gives him the news.”
“No, he’ll take it better from his wife.” He pulled out his phone and stared at it before handing it to her. “Her name is Maggie. Call her and let her tell him.”
“All right. Do you want to hear, or do you want me to go in the other room?”
He nodded toward the other room. Bailey took the phone and stepped away. She found the number for Maggie and pushed the button.
“Hey, ornery,” Maggie answered on the first ring, her voice warm and full of sunshine. Despite herself, Bailey smiled. “You up with the cows this morning or something?”
“Uh, hi, this is Bailey Dunbar, I work for Cal.”
There was a pause and then, “Is Cal okay? Is there a problem?”
“Cal’s fine, but there is a problem.” Bailey squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m sorry to tell you that Cal’s wife, Isabel, has died.”
There was a pause, and then Maggie’s voice returned to the line, shakier than before. “What happened?”
“She was murdered, presumably by a local cartel.”
“I…I…what?”
“I understand this is extremely shocking. I’m sure Cal will be able to fill in some details for you when he’s able. He’s, uh, having a difficult time right now. He was hoping you could tell his brother for him. He thought it might be easier coming from you.”
“Of course, absolutely. I just…wow. Okay. Sorry, I’m in shock. I’ll make flight arrangements. We’ll try to be there today.”
“I’m sure Cal will appreciate that,” Bailey replied.
“I should go tell Cam. Is there anything you need, anything we can bring?” Maggie offered.
“Your husband works for my father, doesn’t he?” Bailey asked.
She could almost hear Maggie blinking at the rapid subject change. “Yes. We both love and respect him a great deal.”
“I need to talk to him. I know it’s a bad time, but if you could have him call me when he’s up for it, I’d really appreciate it.”
“When he’s able, I’ll have him give you a call. Thank you for letting us know. I’m sure this hasn’t been an easy call for you to make.”
“It’s fine. I’m just incredibly sorry to be the bearer of such bad news.”
“I understand. Goodbye, Bailey. I’ll let you know our flight arrangements as soon as they’re made.”
“I’ll make sure to have someone at the airport to meet you,” Bailey promised.
“Thank you.”
They disconnected and Bailey called Sully. “I know you’re crazy busy right now, but I need a favor.”
“Name it,” he said, and so she did.
Two hours later, she, Jinx, and Sully stood at the entrance to the bunkhouse. The men stood warily before them. Since yesterday the mood had been silent, somber. Today it was worse because no one knew what she was about to say.
“I need to tell you that what’s about to happen here is all on me. Cal trusts you completely. He said you’re family to him. But that’s separate from me and my job here. If anyone feels bad about this, it’s on me, not him,” she said.
One of them raised a hand. “What’s about to happen here?”
Bailey looked at Sully who opened the door. A K9 unit entered with its handler. “Drug sweep,” she said. She expected a few protests, but everyone regarded her in silence. Maybe protests would have happened except yesterday pushed everything else out of everyone’s minds, even the unfairness of a surprise drug check.
The dog made its way sedately through the building, bed by bed, locker by locker. Bailey began to breathe easier, hoping she was wrong. And then, near the very end, the dog sat and looked at its handler. The silence in the room shifted from somber to stunned.
“Whose bunk is this?” Sully asked. No one answered. “Whose bunk?” he repeated, more forcefully this time.
Jinx stepped forward. “It belongs to Corrie, my son.”
All eyes swiveled to Corrie who began hedging away. “There’s nothing in there,” he said, putting his hands up. Sully took his hands and cuffed them.
“Let’s check then,” he said.
“You can’t,” Corrie said. “That stuff’s mine.”
“It’s Cal’s property. We need his permission, not yours,” Sully said.
“Cal didn’t give permission. She just said so,” Corrie replied, indicating Bailey with a nod of his head.
“I’m the foreman here. I give permission,” Jinx said. “Open it up.”
Sully did a quick sweep of the locker and came away with a baggie of what looked like fine brown powder. The dog’s handler took it and held it up to the light. “Heroin.”
“That’s not mine,” Corrie said, his tone turning desperate. “Someone planted that there.”
“Who?” Jinx barked.
Corrie’s head swiveled desperately around the room, finally landing on Bailey. “Her. She did it.”
“Why would she do that?” Sully asked.
“Because, uh, she wants to get us in trouble for Isabel’s death. She probably killed her. Everyone knows she threatened her.”
“You think Bailey killed Isabel, hacked her to pieces, planted her on the front walk for Cal to find, then planted heroin on you?” Jinx asked, his tone disgusted. “Boy, at least have the guts to admit it when you done wrong.”
Corrie swallowed convulsively and looked away, fastening his gaze on the far wall. Sully sighed, something he had unconsciously been doing all day, and read Corrie his rights.
The handler and dog departed, along with the heroin. Sully led Corrie outside, followed by Jinx and Bailey.
“Jinx, could you please go to the house and sit with Cal a while? I’d feel so much better if I knew he wasn’t alone,” Bailey said.
Jinx regarded her with a stare. She held his gaze. At last he nodded once. “How long should I plan to stay there?”
“An hour,” Bailey said.
Jinx disappeared. Bailey turned to Sully. “I need to talk to him.”
“He’s a prisoner in my custody,” Sully said. “I can’t just give him to you.”
“Of course not. But I know you have a lot of paperwork to fill out. Maybe you could use Cal’s office for about an hour while I keep watch for you.”
Like Jinx, Sully gave her a solitary nod.
“Could you switch his cuffs to the front for me?” she asked. “Make him more comfortable like.”
Sully complied, cuffing Corrie’s hands in front of his body instead of behind. Then he turned and walked toward Cal’s office. “Wait, what’s happening? Where are you going?” Corrie called. “Sully, don’t leave me alone with her. Come back.”
“Come with me,” Bailey said. She grasped Corrie’s bicep and frog marched him to the tack room, closing and locking the door behind them. She had set up a small table with a couple of chairs, just in case, and now she used them, positioning Corrie in the seat across from hers.
“I want names, locations, details of your contacts,” she said.
“I don’t have any contacts. I told you I don’t know where that stuff came from. I don’t even do drugs.” He was clearly lying. Now that she was looking, she could see the twitchy eyes of a user. It had probably been a while since his last fix, and he was coming down, needing to refuel. That worked well to her advantage.
“I’m going to ask politely one more time. I want names, locations, and details of your contacts.”
“I don’t know anything,” he insisted.
Bailey reached across the table and snapped his middle finger. He roared with pain, tears springing immediately to his eyes and rolling down his face.
“Now, I can snap that back in for you easily. All the pain will be forgotten. In fact, you’ll get such an endorphin rush it will make the high you get from opium seem like child’s play. Or you have nine more fingers. What happens next is up to you.” She pressed her palms to the table and leaned forward. “I want names, locations, and details of your contacts.”
“I only know my supplier’s name,” he yelled. He held his hand aloft, staring at his oddly bent finger in horror.
Bailey reached across the table and snapped his finger back into place. For a moment she thought he was going to pass out with the relief of it, but then he seemed to settle down and come back to his senses. “Start talking, and if I don’t like your answers, you’ll feel it.”
They talked for an hour, and then she released him back into Sully’s hands, weepy and shaking, clutching his fingers possessively to his chest. Almost as soon as she finished with Corrie, her phone rang.
“Hi, Major Dunbar, this is Cameron Ridge, Cal’s brother.” His voice sounded slightly hoarse with suppressed emotion, but otherwise he seemed able to carry on the sort of conversation they needed to have.
“Lieutenant Ridge, I’m so very sorry about your sister-in-law, sir.”
“Thank you. I had no idea the situation was so serious down there. Is Cal in danger?”
“Everyone is in danger until the situation is resolved,” she said.
He must have read something in her tone because he paused before he answered. “I take it you have a resolution in mind, Major.”
He didn’t have an accent at the beginning of the call, but with those last words the twang began to seep in, and he sounded like Cal. “Yes, sir. But I’m going to need a few things.”
“I’m listening,” he said, and Bailey filled him in on her plan.