Chapter Fourteen #2
A single white pearl hung on the delicate silver chain.
Goose bumps crawled over Charly’s skin. “They were here.” Her words were nothing more than a whisper…a thought spoken.
Billie nodded. “We should call the sheriff now.”
“I think that’s a damned good idea,” a voice growled.
Charly whirled to find Kerrick Rogers glaring at them from the open door.
Charly had never been afraid of anyone—Alex had said it was her one weakness. But right now, with Kerrick holding a rifle aimed in their direction, she was very definitely scared.
“We’ve been looking for you,” Billie said calmly as if he’d been expecting the man.
Kerrick glowered at him. “Call him,” he said to Charly, averting his eyes from the beam of her phone’s flashlight. “Call Malone.”
“We can talk about this outside,” Charly offered as she lowered the beam to his chest, or more specifically, to the rifle. “Or at your house.”
Kerrick’s head moved firmly side to side. “We’re all staying put until Malone gets here.”
“Make the call,” Billie said to her. “We’re not the ones who have something to hide.”
“What the hell does that mean?” The barrel of the weapon shifted fully on Billie.
Charly ignored Kerrick’s response and did what Billie said. She tapped the number. Sheriff Malone was in her contacts. Had been for years.
“It means exactly what it sounds like,” Billie said without answering the question.
The sheriff answered and Charly turned away from the other conversation to give him a quick overview of the situation, including the fact that Kerrick was armed. Behind her she could hear the low rumble of Billie’s voice as well as the more threatening tone of Kerrick’s.
She ended the call as quickly as she could and shifted back to the situation growing increasingly tense.
“I don’t know what the hell you two are doing here,” Kerrick warned, “but moves like this could get you killed. I could have shot you.”
Charly cleared her throat. “Sheriff Malone is on his way. Let’s just cool down and let him handle this.”
“Fine by me.” Kerrick leaned against the door frame but kept his rifle aimed on Billie.
Charly drew in a sharp breath and moved closer to him. She was not allowing anything to happen to him. No way.
Marshall County Sheriff’s Department
Blount Avenue, 6:00 p.m.
“IT WAS MY IDEA,” Charly insisted for about the twentieth time.
Tully Malone leaned back in the chair behind his desk, his hands resting against his flat stomach, fingers interlocked. “I’m sure you’re well aware of the laws regarding trespassing and breaking and entering, Charly. Your daddy was a sheriff for how many years?”
“I swear,” she argued. No way in hell was he putting this on Billie. She had to make him understand this one was on her. “How do you think he even knew about that cabin? I took him there and suggested we have a look.”
Damn it. Sheriff Malone had separated them as soon as he and two of his deputies arrived.
Sent Billie in the cruiser with the deputies while she was escorted to his vehicle.
Once they arrived here they had been put in different rooms. Billie in an interview room and her in the sheriff’s office.
Kerrick had been allowed to follow in his own vehicle and was God knows where.
“He says he found it via a special search app his agency has available.” The sheriff leaned forward, his forearms coming to rest on his desk. “That’s the thing about PIs, Charly. They don’t play by the rules. Now he’s dragged you into this and I know this isn’t your doing.”
She held up her hands. “How many times do we have to go over this? It was me.”
“You’ve never had any trouble with the law before,” he argued. “Why would you suddenly start now?”
She blew out an exaggerated breath. “Whatever you choose to believe, but I’m telling you I showed him where that cabin was.
It took me over two hours to find it. But that’s irrelevant.
What matters is that there are shackles and a cot in that cabin.
More important, there was a necklace belonging to Briana Willard.
That, Sheriff Malone, is what you should be looking into.
What you’re doing—” she glared at him more fiercely as she said the next part “—is wasting time.”
He heaved a big breath—almost as overblown as the one she’d expelled. “You, of all people, should know these things take time. And it doesn’t help when folks start causing a stir that I have to stop my important investigative work to look into.”
“Really?” she demanded.
He held up his hands in surrender. “The PI is trying to locate a photo of his sister wearing that necklace so we can confirm his allegation. Meanwhile, I’ll be interrogating Kerrick next.
Right now—no matter how much you want to believe I don’t know how to do my job—I’m letting him stew.
I confiscated his rifle because it was clear to me he’d been smoking weed. ”
“Well, thanks for that,” she said, not sounding all that thankful.
Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding because she knew.
She absolutely knew that Kerrick Rogers had something to do with Briana’s and Martin’s disappearances.
Not to mention Billie had no reason to lie about the necklace.
The whole confirmation thing was just another waste of time.
As a matter of fact, sitting here debating the possibility was a waste of time!
“Charly,” he said with a pointed look at her, “you need to step back and let us do our job.”
“Fine.” She pushed to her feet. “Then let us go home and get on with it.”
He stared at her for a moment. “Deputy Lathan will take you home. I still have some questions for Mr. Jagger. He’ll be here awhile longer.”
And then it will be dark and there will be no more searching. For one moment she almost decided to stay. But there were things she could do before dark if she left now.
“Fine. I want to go home. Now.”
He seemed surprised at her turnaround. She didn’t care as long as she was out of here and could do what she needed.
“Hang on a minute.” He stood, walked around his desk and out the door, closing it behind him.
Less than a minute later Cohen Lathan showed up, opened the door and poked his head in. “Let’s go, Charly.”
She rolled her eyes as she walked out to join him in the corridor. Couldn’t her ride have been provided by anyone else?
He put a hand to her back and guided her to an exit. When they reached the parking lot, he opened the front passenger’s-side door of his cruiser.
She settled into the seat and sat silently while he drove her home. He rambled on about how foolish what she and Billie had done was and that if they were lucky the Rogerses would let it go and not press charges.
She said nothing. Not one word. Not even when she got out at her cabin. He turned the vehicle around and drove away without her uttering a single syllable.
Shelly stood on the porch. “What happened?”
Charly had sent a text to let her know she would be late. “You don’t want to know.” She didn’t have time to explain. “I need your help, Shelly. Can you stay here and see after things until I get back? It might be late. I mean really late.”
She didn’t like leaving the property for long when there were guests.
“Sure.” The concern on her friend’s face warned she had questions, but she didn’t ask. Good friends didn’t.
“I just have to grab a few things.” Before going inside she glanced at the truck Vince had left her, thankful for the first time that he’d made the overture.
Shelly followed her into the kitchen. Charly tossed her shoulder bag onto the table, grabbed a flashlight, a bottle of water and her father’s hunting rifle.
“Charly,” Shelly said, her voice heavy with worry, “what’re you doing?”
“When Billie gets here,” she said without answering the question, “tell him I went back. He’ll know what to do.”
And then she left.