Chapter Five #2
“The truth is, your brother’s guilty,” Vance growled. “And the longer you defend him, the more you go down with him.”
The line went dead.
Cassidy set the phone back on the console, her knuckles white against the steering wheel.
Kincade didn’t say anything right away. He watched her, the tight set of her jaw, the way her eyes stayed fixed on the road like she was holding everything else back. “He’ll push Sheriff Moran to hunt Travis down until they find a body. One way or another.”
Cassidy’s hands tightened on the wheel. “And if we don’t get to him first…”
She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to.
The sun was just starting to dip behind the ridge as they rolled into the quiet neighborhood on the edge of Clear Rock. Houses were spaced wide apart, modest one-stories with dry patches of grass and chain-link fences leaning with time. Most of the driveways held old trucks or sun-faded cars.
Cassidy slowed in front of a beige house with blue trim. The blinds in the front window were closed shut, and a small Texas flag fluttered from a rusted pole on the porch.
Marlene Lang stepped into view just as they pulled to the curb.
She was dragging a trash can toward the street, her hair pulled back in a quick ponytail, still in uniform pants but a plain T-shirt now. The moment she spotted them, her body stiffened. Her hand gripped the edge of the trash can a little too hard.
She looked ready to run.
But she didn’t.
Cassidy got out first, calm and steady. Kincade followed, the backpack slung over his shoulder, his hand near the Glock tucked at his side.
Marlene straightened as they approached. “I can’t talk.”
Jericho stepped up beside them, holding out his phone. “Then maybe you’d rather explain this.”
He tapped the screen. The image lit up, grainy but clear. Her face, visible through the windshield. Her arm outstretched. A gun pointed directly at Travis.
Marlene’s lips parted like she might deny it, then clamped shut.
Kincade stepped closer. “We’re going to talk, Deputy. Your choice is whether it happens out here where your neighbors can listen in…” He let the sentence hang.
Marlene looked at them all, her jaw tight, then gave a sharp nod. “Inside,” she said, voice low. “Fine.”
She turned and led them up the short walkway, her movements clipped. Kincade followed, eyes scanning every angle, every window, ready for whatever she might try next.
Because Marlene Lang was a cornered suspect now.
And being cornered made people dangerous.
Marlene went to the front door with quick, jerky movements and pushed it open without looking back. They followed her inside.
The house was modest but well kept. The entryway opened into a small living room with clean beige carpet and a worn brown sofa.
Framed family photos lined one wall, mostly black-and-white.
Older generations, parents maybe. A floral-scented candle burned on a side table, its flame flickering in the still air.
She didn’t offer them a seat.
Kincade, Cassidy, and Jericho stayed in the foyer just past the door, a few feet from the living room. Marlene hovered near the hallway, arms crossed, chin lifted like she was bracing for impact. But she didn’t speak.
Kincade broke the silence. “You want to explain? Or should I call the Texas Rangers and let them haul you in for kidnapping and obstruction?”
Her jaw clenched.
“Marlene,” Cassidy said, her voice softer. “We need the truth. Now.”
The deputy’s eyes snapped to hers, full of something close to panic.
“Someone took my mother, Ginny Lang.” The words came out with a stream of breath.
“I don’t know who. I got home three nights ago and she was gone.
Door unlocked, her phone left behind. No sign of a break-in.
Then I got a message with no name, no number. Just instructions.”
Kincade narrowed his eyes. “What kind of instructions?”
She swallowed hard. “Get Travis. Bring him to the safe house. That was it.”
“Why you?” Cassidy asked.
Marlene’s shoulders sank slightly. She shook her head, but not like someone who didn’t know. More like someone who hated what the answer would cost her to say.
“I don’t know,” Marlene finally muttered. “Maybe because I was close enough to reach him.”
Her voice cracked on the last word. She swiped at her cheek as a tear slid down, jaw tightening like she refused to let herself fall apart in front of them.
“I had to do whatever it took,” Marlene said under her breath. “I had to get my mother back.”
Kincade’s feeling for this woman didn’t soften one bit. Because there were holes in her story. Big ones.
“Then tell me this, how did the person who took your mom know about the safe house?” Kincade demanded. “And why would they think you could get Travis there without a fight?”
Marlene hesitated. And that hesitation said more than any denial. “Travis and I… we had a thing. It wasn’t serious. Just friends with benefits. Off and on.”
Kincade’s stomach turned. Travis’s relationship with this woman, casual or not, had been twisted into a weapon. Used against him by someone who knew exactly how to exploit it.
Well, maybe. He didn’t know if everything Marlene had just said was a lie.
“And the safe house?” Cassidy pressed. “How did your mom’s kidnapper know the location? Why take him there?”
Marlene looked down at her hands, then back at them. “I don’t know how they found out. But some of the locations… they’re not exactly secrets. Sheriff Moran, he knows about a few of them. Ruby lets the department use them now and then for witness protection or temp holds.”
Her voice broke again, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. “I have to find my mother,” she whispered. “I have to get her back.”
Kincade watched her closely, piecing it all together. “Travis told me to meet him at the safe house,” he said. “Said it had to be face-to-face.”
Marlene gave a small, bitter nod. “I made him say that. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You forced him to lure Kincade there?” Cassidy snapped.
That caused Marlene to dodge eye contact. “The abductor told me exactly what to say. That if I didn’t follow through, my mother would die.”
Kincade’s jaw tightened. “But Travis could’ve overpowered you.”
“I think he knew that,” Marlene answered after a long pause. “He didn’t fight me. Not really. It was like he was… watching. Waiting.”
“For what?” Cassidy asked.
Marlene shook her head slowly. “To see how far it would go. Maybe to figure out who was behind it. Maybe he was hoping someone would slip up. I don’t know. But he didn’t run. He didn’t resist.”
Kincade felt a weight settle in his chest. That sounded like Travis. Calculating. Controlled.
And walking straight into something that could kill him.
Kincade stepped in a little closer, keeping his voice level. “What happened when you got to the safe house?”
Marlene blinked, clearly thrown. “You… don’t remember?”
His pulse ticked up, but he kept his expression neutral. “I want your version of it.”
She studied him for a moment, probably trying to figure out if he was bluffing. He didn’t give her anything.
Eventually, she exhaled and looked away, her voice softening. “It was late. Travis drove us out there.”
“And me?” Kincade asked. “Was I already there?”
Marlene nodded slowly. “Yeah. When we got to the safe house, I saw you. You stepped out onto the porch.” She paused, her hands fidgeting at her sides. “Just like they told me, I made Travis get out. He didn’t argue. But then—”
Her voice hitched.
“All hell broke loose,” she blurted. “Someone started shooting at us. Not warning shots. They were trying to kill us.”
Kincade’s pulse kicked up. The edges of it—gunfire, adrenaline—started to stir at the back of his mind.
“Travis dove behind a tree,” Marlene went on. “You ducked back into the house. That part I remember clearly. You moved fast.”
Kincade nodded, slowly. That tracked. That piece clicked into place. He remembered stepping inside and drawing his weapon, heart pounding, trying to get a read on the shooter.
“I saw you go in,” Marlene added. “And then I panicked. I took off in Travis’s SUV.”
Kincade’s eyes narrowed. “You just left.”
Marlene nodded, guilt flashing across her face. “I had to. If I got killed, my mother was gone for good. I drove back to my patrol car, hid the SUV on an old ranch trail and then got the hell out of there.”
Kincade clenched his jaw, frustration digging in deep. He remembered the porch. The shots. The burn of smoke in his lungs. But everything after that?
Still blank.
And that pissed him off. Because whatever happened after Marlene ran, that was when everything changed.
Cassidy stepped forward, her voice quieter now. “Have you had any more contact with the person who took your mother?”
Marlene’s eyes welled up again. She shook her head, then nodded as if she didn’t know which answer was right.
“They texted me,” she said, her voice cracking. “Just a few hours ago. Said my mom would be let go soon.”
She dug into her pocket, hands trembling slightly, and pulled out her phone. Her thumb hovered over the screen before she passed it to Cassidy.
The message was short. No signature. No details.
She’ll be released soon. Do nothing until you hear from us.
Kincade leaned in to look. Unknown number. No name. No thread history.
Jericho stepped up beside them. “I can try to trace it,” he said, already pulling out his phone.
Marlene shook her head, wiping tears from her cheek. “I already did. Ran it through every system I could access without triggering alerts. Burner phone. Whoever’s behind this, they know how to cover their tracks.”
That made sense. Whoever had orchestrated this wasn’t just some pissed-off cop or random thug. And getting a burner phone was an easy and cheap way to hide your tracks.
Marlene’s breath hitched. She looked between them, eyes wide and shining with panic. “Please don’t tell anyone about my mother,” she said, her voice shaking. “They said if word got out, if anyone else started asking questions, she’d die.”
Cassidy’s expression tightened, but she stayed silent.
“I told my neighbors my mom was visiting my aunt in Houston,” Marlene added.
“Even told the department she left early to beat the traffic. Nobody’s questioned it yet.
” She raked a hand through her hair. “I’ve searched every place I can think of.
Hotels, abandoned properties, friends of hers she hasn’t spoken to in years. Nothing.”
“I’ll do some checking,” Jericho offered, causing more alarm to shoot through Marlene’s eyes. “I’ll keep the search quiet,” he assured her.
Marlene let out a breath of relief. “Good. Because I’m barely holding it together as it is. I don’t want her in more danger.” She made a soft sob. “The bastard who has her insisted I go to work, that I find Travis. But I don’t know where he is. Do you?” she begged.
“We don’t know,” Kincade assured her, and he kept his gaze locked on the woman. “Travis was bringing me information. What do you know about that?”
Marlene hesitated. Her expression tightened, as if she wasn’t sure how much to admit. But she finally nodded.
“Yeah. He found something,” she said. “Said it was big. Said it proved Aaron Clegg didn’t kill his cousin, Alisha.”
“What was it?” Cassidy demanded.
There was another pause before Marlene continued. “Travis got hold of copies from an old external drive. Backup records. Something the department thought had been wiped years ago.”
Kincade leaned in. “And?”
Marlene squeezed her eyes shut a moment. “There was a statement. An anonymous tip from an unnamed minor who saw Alisha get into a dark SUV the night she disappeared. That tip was never filed. Never followed up. But the kid described the vehicle down to the sticker on the back window.”
She looked up at them, her voice lower now.
“It matched the SUV driven by Vance Harlan back then,” Marlene went on. “The same one he gave to his campaign manager two years later.”
Kincade felt the chill crawl up his spine. “Vance wasn’t the mayor back then,” he said.
“No, but he worked for the mayor and had access to both the county and Blanco Pass cops. Travis thought Vance was involved. Either he picked Alisha up himself, or he was covering for someone who did. That tip would’ve pointed the finger away from Aaron Clegg. And the info was scrubbed.”
Kincade exchanged a look with Cassidy, the same thought flashing between them both.
If Travis had proof that Vance Harlan was connected to Alisha’s death—maybe even responsible—then Daniel Harlan’s murder wasn’t about silencing a man.
Kincade frowned. This wasn’t some pissed-off cop or low-level thug. Whoever was behind it had resources, reach, and a reason to silence anyone digging too deep.
Someone like Vance Harlan.
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