Chapter 23
“Where’s the phone?” Blaze asked, clicking on his flashlight with one hand while he held an evidence bag in his other. “And somebody better start talking.”
Beth gestured to the fence line across the bar ditch. “It’s partially covered in dirt. I don’t know how your guys missed it, honestly.”
He trudged across the bridge to where Beth was standing and pointing to a spot up near the trees. “Well, we’re not exactly top of the line detectives,” he grunted as he passed by her. He ignored the pain of thorns tearing through his jeans as he crossed the ditch. Leaning over, he scooped it up into the bag. “You probably already knew our department was trash though.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah, but shouldn’t the state be helping out?”
Blaze eyed her, and then met Garrett’s gaze, who was standing awfully close to her from behind. His hand rested on her shoulder in a protective sort of stance, but honestly, Blaze was over it. “Sheriff Myers hasn’t asked for their assistance.” He flipped the phone over in the baggy, and then tried to turn it on. “Dead. Figures.”
“Why wouldn’t he ask for assistance?” Beth watched him closely. “A homicide is rare in this county.”
“Yeah, but this seems isolated,” Blaze answered, the rarity of homicide in own his life very opposing of this county. “Sheriff Myers seems to think we can handle it.”
“Hmm,” Beth folded her arms across her chest. “Seems like a stretch.”
“Yeah, I’d say so,” Blaze huffed, rocking back on his heels. “And for the record, I’m not here on official business right now, so someone better tell me why you were down here, and why the two of you found a phone.”
“It’s going to sound crazy,” Beth warned him.
“With all due respect,” Blaze cleared his throat. “I’m not convinced that every person in this town ain’t a little crazy. I’m sick of the runaround. Tell me the truth, because believe it or not, I want to solve this case just as much as anyone else.”
“Okay, well…” Beth’s voice trailed off as she peered up at Garrett, who was stoic. “I found the phone, and then a truck came through here from that way.” She pointed toward the dead end.
Blaze frowned. “Strange. Did you recognize the vehicle?”
She shook her head. “Just a dark—probably black? SUV. Maybe a Chevy? Ugh. They all look the same these days. I didn’t see who it was that got out. They were on the other side, and honestly, I was worried I would make too much noise and catch their attention.”
“And why are you here?” Blaze asked Garrett. “Just for moral support?” He shined the light right in his eyes, and chuckled as Garrett threw up a hand to block it. “At least you’re sober tonight.”
“Yeah, anyway,” Garrett snapped, glaring at him. “I came because she called me, and of course, I’m not going to leave her down here alone. I don’t know what’s going on in this town, but it’s not good—whatever it is. They let the air out of her tire, and I don’t like her being down here any more than you.”
“Smartest thing I’ve heard come out of your mouth since we met,” Blaze grunted, gazing down at the phone in his hand. “I don’t know how we missed this. We went over this area with a fine tooth comb.” Intuition tugged at him, making him think he was missing something. However, he couldn’t put his finger on it. He just needed to get the phone back to the office and see what was there.
“Maybe you didn’t miss it,” Garrett said, his voice slow as he rocked his weight from one foot to the other. “What if someone tossed it here after the fact? Maybe they thought no one would come back.”
Blaze frowned, flipping the baggy over in his hand again. “Hopefully, we can get that from the phone company—whenever they decide to join the club and help us out.” He didn’t want to give either of them too much information, given that they had found the missing phone. But at the same time…
Maybe they really didn’t have anything to do with her murder.
“I know what it looks like,” Beth added suddenly, taking a step toward Blaze. “But I don’t think Garrett did it.”
“Says the supportive lover,” Blaze snorted, shaking his head and turning back toward his truck. “Y’all need to get out of here.” Blaze glanced at the tire on Beth’s truck. “I’m sure you two can handle that. I need to get this phone turned in. ”
With that, he left the two of them standing there on the bridge, while he walked back to his truck. He flung the door open and climbed inside, not even in his uniform anymore. He was hoping for a calm evening—a chance to mull over Daniel’s sudden recurrence in his life after years of silence.
Blaze tossed the phone to the passenger seat, and started the truck, throwing it in gear and turning around. In his rearview, he saw the shadowy figure of Garrett, walking over to Beth’s truck and retrieving the spare.
Am I leaving her with a killer? He thought it over as he headed toward town, his head spinning. Honestly, even if he was, he was certain that Garrett wouldn’t pull anything tonight. It would be too obvious… right?
“Where’d you say this came from?” Sheriff Myers asked as Blaze set it down on his desk, Dylan Myers standing in the corner of the office. All the Myers had the same gray-blue eyes, and Blaze had started to find himself unsettled by them.
“It was found by the Hollow Creek Bridge, laying against the fence.” Blaze kept it short and concise. There was no point in adding specifics.
“Who found it?”
Blaze’s jaw ticked. “Your son.”
“What the hell was Garrett doing down there?” Dylan exasperated, cutting in on the conversation. “There ain’t nothing for him down there.”
“He was with Beth,” Blaze found himself saying. “And no, I don’t know what they were doing. For all I know, they were just rehashing the past or something. Hasn’t taken much for me to figure out the two of them have quite a history.” He sighed, fatigue pulling at him harder than ever. All he wanted to do was fall into bed. But here he was, another long night with more questions than answers.
“I’ll talk to him about it,” Sheriff Myers said, and then gestured to the phone. “Get it plugged in.”
“Shouldn’t we submit it to evidence? Dust for prints?” Blaze asked, his eyes bouncing between the two men standing there.
“You touch it?” the sheriff barked at him. “It doesn’t matter whose prints are on it. We can’t prove anything. For all we know Garrett and Beth touched it, too. Inadmissible in court.”
Blaze stared at the two of them, knowing for the sake of right and wrong, he should argue, but chose against it. “Okay. I’ll take it and plug it in. See what we can find on it. It’s probably going to have a passcode though.”
“If it does, we’ll figure it out,” Sheriff Myers huffed. “You can give it to Dylan. He’s on shift right now. You need to get on home. Get some rest. You look rough, Blaze, and I don’t want to go start asking questions about what you’ve been up to.”
He blinked a couple of times. “Working.”
“So you say,” he scoffed. “Seems like you’ve been trying to pull some strings behind my back. We got the preliminary report sent over here on Sarah, and it had the name of some hot shot FBI agent out of Dallas on there. Ain’t nobody I know, so I figured it was you.”
“He’s an old…” Blaze couldn’t come up with the word. “Acquaintance.”
“Sounds suspicious as hell,” Sheriff Myers spouted. “Get out of here—and relay a thanks.”
“Got it.” He spun on his heels and headed out of station, just grateful Sheriff Myers hadn’t asked for any further explanation from him.
Blaze pushed through the glass doors, stepping out into the chilly evening. He headed toward his truck parked in the front row, and as he did, caught an ear of an engine idling. He kept moving, making it to his driver’s side door, and only once it was open, did he scan the parking lot. His eyes landed on a dark blue Ford truck, newer than Peter Young’s, but not by much.
It was parked at the back, facing him. The windows were tinted, making it impossible to see who was sitting inside. His hands began to sweat as he moved to put his hand on his gun, but as he did, he realized he didn’t have it. His belt was hung on the rack inside his apartment. He’d gone in blind to Garrett and Beth. And now, here he was, staring down a suspicious vehicle with no way to protect himself.
I really am sleep deprived. He stared at the truck for a few more seconds, unnerved that he couldn’t make out who was inside. Is this the vehicle Beth had seen? No, he shook his head and climbed into his truck. She had seen an SUV. He blew out a sigh and ran his hands over his face, before tossing his cowboy hat to the passenger seat. He started the engine and backed out, keeping an eye on the truck.
Its headlights clicked on, blinding Blaze momentarily. He blinked as he straightened up the wheel of his own vehicle and put it in drive. The blue truck roared out of the parking lot, cutting him off and speeding down the main road.
Don’t follow it, an inner voice chimed. But Blaze eased his foot down on the gas anyway, exiting the parking lot and turning in the same direction. He had learned over the years of being a paranoid drifter to listen to his gut, but…
Who was behind that wheel? A knot formed in his throat as he followed, searching for the taillights. However, it was like the moment the truck had taken off, it had disappeared. The old thing was nowhere to be seen, not even down the side roads or alleys. Giving up, he reached for his phone, dialing Agent Malone’s number again.
“What do you want?” he answered on the second ring, but then continued before Blaze could say anything. “This is the third time we’ve talked in twenty-four hours, after years of silence. I wouldn’t have broken the streak had I known?—”
“I need you to do me another favor.”
“No,” he snapped. “Absolutely not.”
Blaze ignored him. “I need you to speed up the processing on a firearm I submitted to the state for testing in regard to the Armitage case. It’s really important. I need to know that’s not the gun that killed her.”
Daniel was silent for a few beats. “You got the autopsy report already? Seemed like I just got the preliminary over to you… Was there anything found to even test it against?”
“I don’t have anything. We don’t have the full ME report back,” Blaze grumbled. “I know it’s a long shot to speed it up, but nothing gets done around here without someone pulling strings, and you’re the only string I have to pull—and the Sheriff is thankful for it.”
He let out a mix of a groan and sigh, his frustration clear. “Yeah, okay. You know what? I’ll see what I can do…Even if it’s just to make you go away.”