33. Tactical Revival 3
JAXSON
CHAPTER 33
“You said your daughter is home visiting?” I ask, jotting down a few impressions on my notepad. The way the parents are behaving, the feel of the home we’re standing in. This one is nice and tidy, though well-lived in.
These people love their daughter, and it’s clear from the photographs adorning the mantle that she loves them too. Which means she didn’t just leave in the middle of the night, or walk out without saying goodbye.
Dread coils in my stomach, but I shove it down to focus on the facts.
“Yes,” the mother—Mrs. Finch—replies. “She got back home Thursday night since she has no classes on Friday.” She sniffles, her grey eyes red and glassy. “She’s getting her masters in physical education.” Her voice breaks. “I never should have let her go out for that run this morning.” She cries. “It was still dark. I should have made her stay.”
Her husband pulls her in closer and Sheriff Vick, who is dressed casual in jeans and a t-shirt today, reaches out to take her hand. “Millie, we’ll find her. I’m sure she just got turned around. Besides, she’s an adult. You couldn’t have made her stay.”
“I could have tried. She’s never been gone this long. Normally, she’s back an hour after leaving. She’s been gone eight hours now. Eight hours, Ray!” Mrs. Finch covers her face with shaking hands.
I leave Lance to ask the rest of our questions and turn my attention to the photographs. The cute blonde staring back at me has something familiar about her, though I can’t quite place what it is. She has the same grey eyes as her mother, her features soft yet refined.
She’s slender, a runner, and every photograph has her genuinely smiling. Occasionally in cases I’ve been called in on, you can tell that home life is little more than a fa?ade put on for social media’s benefit. But this family truly love each other.
That familiar sense of dread is back, so I beat it back down again. I spent too many years on the force. Too much time identifying the dead and breaking the news to family members all while promising to hunt down the killer who stole their loved one.
God, please don’t let this be another one of those cases.
Please, God, help me find her. Alive.
“Was anything amiss when she left this morning?” Michael questions.
“No,” her mother replies. “She got up, drank her smoothie, grabbed her bottle of water and left.”
“Without a cell phone?”
“Kleo doesn’t carry her phone often,” Millie replies, her voice shaky. “And never on runs. She doesn’t like to be tied to anything when she’s out. Our girl is all about living in the moment,” she cries.
“I get that,” I reply, offering them a kind smile. Unfortunately, even though I do understand it, it makes it even more difficult to find her. “Did she carry any form of protection? Pepper spray? A knife? A firearm?”
“She carries a knife,” her father replies. “After her twenty-first birthday I tried to get her to start carrying a firearm, but she said it weighs her down. She carries most of the time, but on her runs she sticks with the knife.”
I nod, then close my notepad and stick it back into my pocket. “I’m going to go walk the area. See if I can’t trace her steps.”
“We did that this morning,” her father insists.
“Sometimes a fresh pair of eyes helps,” I say, then offer Michael and Lance a nod, before slipping outside. They both know I do better with facts than people. Not that I can’t handle an interview, God knows I’ve done enough of them to be decent at it. But once I have the base facts, I do much better from a distance. Where I can be in the quiet of my own mind, re-tracing the final moments of a victim in order to discern what happened to them.
It’s a bright day, the temperature perfect for a t-shirt given our spring weather. I move down the front steps, then head out onto the sidewalk into the direction her father said she runs in. I don’t move much faster than a walk, though, because I want to make sure I don’t miss anything.
Even the slightest of details can lead to a break in the case.
Once, a single hair clip abandoned on the sidewalk led us to a woman who’d been missing for three days. And we would likely never have found her if not for the fingerprints on it.
So, as I walk, I look for Kleo Finch’s ‘hair clip’.
The sidewalk is relatively trim as I keep walking, the grass clipped short on either side of it. The road isn’t super busy, though enough so that if she were attacked in broad daylight, the likelihood of someone driving by and seeing the attack is high.
However, it wasn’t broad daylight when she attacked. It was five in the morning and I doubt there were many people out on the road then. No one to witness an abduction. That familiar dread coils in my belly.
I monitor the sidewalk for any scuff marks or anything that might allude to a struggle, while also keeping an eye on the houses. If anyone had been out this morning, maybe they saw something.
Definitely worth knocking on doors as I make my way back to the Finch’s home.
My phone rings, so I dig it out of my pocket and check the read out. I don’t recognize the number, but it could be Lance or Michael calling me from the Finch’s for whatever reason, so I press it to my ear. “Payne,” I answer.
“It’s about time.”
Every muscle in my body goes rigid and my stomach churns at the mere sound of her voice. “Rosalie.”
“So you do remember me. Here I thought that time in the hospital gave you amnesia.”
“What do you want?” I pinch the bridge of my nose and stop walking, knowing that if I continue, I won’t be paying near the attention I need to be.
“I want to talk to you. It’s all I’ve been trying to do for weeks now.”
“And I told you the last time we spoke that I had nothing else to say.”
“Jax,” she starts.
“No. Rosalie. I am working and this is hardly the time.”
“Listen—” She sighs into the phone. “I want to see you so we can clear the air. I know you’re in Maine now, and I’m actually headed to New York in a couple of days for a conference. Can we meet up? I can come to you. See where you’re?—”
“No. There’s nothing to clear.”
“There is for me.”
“There’s not for me,” I repeat. “Goodbye Rosalie.” I end the call and take a deep breath. The phone rings again and I’m prepared to answer it and tell her just how tired I am of her constant phone calls, but the B&B’s number appears on my screen. “Hey, everything okay?”
“Hey, yeah, it is now. Silas came and handled it.”
Unease climbs up my spine. “Handled what?”
“Nothing important. Caleb showed up, Elijah sent Silas. Caleb is gone.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.” She hesitates a moment, as though she wants to say something else about it, but changes her mind. “Anyway, you know how you offered to help earlier?”
I smile. “Vaguely.”
She laughs. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind grabbing a paint can from Felix’s on your way back? I need to do some touch up paint later, but won’t have time to get it before the hardware store closes. If not, it’s okay, I can figure?—”
“I don’t mind.” I can’t help the stupid grin that adorns my face yet again, or the way I can picture her twirling the cord her office phone around her finger because she refuses to go cordless at the B&B.
“Really?”
“Really. We’re nearly done taking statements and I can pick it up for you later. If you show me what you need painted, I can take care of that, too.”
“Jaxson, you don’t need to do that.”
“I don’t mind. Seriously. Will Felix know what color you need?”
“He will. It’ll be waiting at the front counter. Thank you so much. Seriously, Jaxson. You are a lifesaver.”
“It is my job. See you later, Margot.”
“Bye.”
The call ends and I shove the phone back into my pocket. I’m just about to start walking again when I glance to my right and note a path of slightly bent tall grass. It’s still standing, but not nearly as high as the surrounding area.
All the distractions melt away and my hand goes to the firearm at my hip. I inch closer to the path, careful where I am stepping so I don’t disturb any possible evidence if there is something here.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as a prickling awareness that I’m being watched settles over me. I glance around, trying to see if there’s anyone there, but I spot nothing but houses.
No one is on the street. No one looking out the windows.
Still, I can’t beat back the feeling as I return my attention to the tall grass. Everything in my gut screams danger, but I press forward, not wanting to spare the moments I would need to make a phone call until I know exactly why it is I’m making one.
A few feet into the tall grass, hidden away just out of sight, a young woman is lying on the ground, wearing shorts, a tank top, and running shoes. Her blonde hair is streaked with sweat and matted with grass. But I see no blood. I rush forward and kneel at her side.
“Kleo, can you hear me?” I ask, checking to feel her pulse.
Her grey eyes flutter open. “I don’t—” She trails off, eyes rolling back into her head.
I monitor her pulse, noting that it’s far slower than it should be, then use the tactical flashlight I always carry to check the reaction of her pupils. She appears drugged, though uninjured. I pull out my phone and call 9-1-1. “This is Jaxson Payne, I found a barely conscious twenty-one-year-old female and need an ambulance.” After rattling off my location, I end the call and tap Lance’s contact. “You’re going to be okay,” I tell her as I wait for him to answer.
“Knight.”
“I’ve got her. About two miles up the road from her house. Ambulance has been called.”
“We’re on our way.”
After ending the call, I shove my phone back into my pocket. Kleo tries to sit up, but she falls right back down, so I offer her assistance while monitoring the way she reacts to movement.
“Do you know what happened?” I ask her, propping her up with my bent leg at her back, the other knee down to hold us both upright.
“No. I—” She rests her chin to her chest and takes a deep breath. “I was running and—I’m so dizzy. Why am I dizzy?”
Sirens wail in the distance. “Can you remember anything?”
“No. I’m so tired.” She starts to fall back, so I steady her as the ambulance pulls up right at the same time Lance’s truck and her parents small SUV stop at the curb.
“You’re going to be just fine,” I tell her, so thankful that it’s the truth. Thank you, God. Thank you for guiding me to this girl so she can get home to her family.
***
“Hypoglycemia?”
“That’s the one,” Michael says over my Bluetooth speaker. Since Margot needed me back at the B&B, I cut out as soon as I knew Kleo was going to be okay.
Once they got her stabilized, she was able to tell them everything she remembered, which wasn’t much. Apparently, she’d stopped to tie her shoe, and as she was kneeling got dizzy. Sherrif Vick believes she must have wandered into the brush and fallen over. It’s lucky I found her when I did.
While it’s the more likely version of the story, especially given that there were no signs of assault, there’s something about it that is still bugging me. Then again, it could just be my own case history sneaking into the recesses of my mind.
Unfortunately, there weren’t many cases in L.A. where the pretty missing girl was found unscathed.
“Is that something that happens to her often?” I ask.
“They were all surprised,” Michael replies. “So I’d say no. Doctor said it’s not uncommon, though. Especially for runners. And Kleo has apparently been preparing for a full marathon, and has been really careful of what she’s eating. Her mom thinks she wasn’t eating enough.”
“Man, well, I’m glad she’s okay.”
“Same. So, listen, Chad was at the B&B today.”
“Margot told me.”
“Oh?” His tone leaves little to no room for accusation, but it makes me uneasy anyway. The last thing I want is for him to think I’m moving in on his younger sister. “She called me earlier to ask if I could pick up some paint for the B&B. She mentioned that Elijah sent Silas over when he caught Chad on the camera.”
“So glad we got that facial recognition update to the cameras. Not that Elijah wouldn’t have recognized him anyway. I put his face up like a BOLO.”
I laugh. Mainly because Michael showed Chad’s picture to each of us when the guy left town. “Same. She okay?” She’d sounded fine when I spoke to her earlier, but it’s possible she was just trying to put my mind at ease. Would she have told her brother if she’d been left shaken by the visit of her ex?
“You should know, you clearly talk to her more than I do.” He laughs. “Just kidding, yeah, she’s good. Anyway, Reyna and I are headed to Boston for the weekend, you need anything before we head out?”
“Nope. You two have fun.”
“Great. See you Monday morning.”
“See you.”
The call ends just as I’m pulling in front of Felix’s hardware store. Climbing out, I take a moment to stretch and breathe in the salty sea air. Living in L.A., I was near the ocean, but it was never like this. The air was never quite as crisp, the weather as perfect.
Here, the ocean feels like the center of this town, whereas in L.A., the ocean is merely a small part of the big city. You can feel completely alone even as you’re in the center of a crowd. Not in Hope Springs, though. Everyone knows everyone here, and you never feel alone.
“Hey, Mr. Payne!” Lanetti Ester, the newest waitress at Hope Diner now that Lilly is on bed rest, jogs up the sidewalk toward me. Her smile is bright, her blue eyes shining with interest.
I’m at least ten years older than her, but the age gap clearly doesn’t sway her from the interest she seems to have taken in me.
I plaster a friendly smile on my face—but not too friendly—and offer her a wave. “Hey, Lanetti. On your way to work?”
“I am. You coming in for dinner tonight?”
I wish I had other plans. But as of now, I’ve got nothing. And the last thing I want to do is assume I’ll be eating dinner with Margot and Matty. “I am.”
“Great.” She grins and begins to toy with a silver cherry blossom on a chain around her neck. “Well, I’ll see you later then?”
“Sure thing.”
She offers me another smile, then starts back down the sidewalk, looking back over her shoulder as she does.
I wish I could find a way to kindly tell her I’m not interested. That even if we were closer in age, I’m still dealing with drama from my ex-wife, and a relationship is just not in the cards for me. But I have no clue how to do that and not completely crush her, so I sigh and head into the hardware store.
Felix glances up from some papers he’s reading behind the counter, and a smile graces his aging face. “Hey, Jaxson, how’s it going?”
“Not too bad. Margot said you have some paint for her?”
“I do.” He sets the papers behind and reaches down to lift a gallon of paint from the floor. He sets it on the counter, along with a wooden paint stick and two brushes. “She doing okay?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I saw Chad earlier. He was headed into the diner.”
“He there now?”
Felix shakes his head. “Alex said he left a few hours ago.” Alex is married to Felix’s daughter, Lilly, and the two of them own the diner. “I just want to make sure she’s okay. Chad was always a troublemaker, but him leaving she and Matthew like that—I wish we could ban him from town all together.”
Chuckling, I lift the can of paint. “Maybe someday,” I tell him. “Thanks for this.”
“So, listen—” Felix trails off, so I set the paint can down again. He runs a hand through his grey hair. “If you’re interested in Margot like that, you should know that we’re all really protective of her.”
I’ve been expecting a talk like this ever since I accepted her invitation to move into the maintenance apartment at the B&B, though to be honest, I expected it to come from Michael rather than the hardware store owner. “I’m not moving in on Margot,” I tell him. “I’m not looking for a relationship. Fleeting or otherwise.”
Felix runs a hand over the back of his head this time. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume, I just—I don’t want to see her hurt again.”
“I get it.” I smile so he knows I take no offense, then lift the paint, stick, and brushes. “Thanks again. See you around.”
As I set the paint and supplies down in my truck, I stop and stare out at the ocean again. I wish I could have told him that I had no feelings for her. That my not moving in on her is because I only see her as a friend rather than my own fear of commitment after the divorce that stole nearly everything from me.
The truth is, I feel a lot more for Margot than I should.
And it’s getting a lot harder to bury those feelings.
Maybe it’s time to find a new place to live.
A detective struggling to put down roots. A single mother fighting to make ends meet.
Former homicide detective Jaxson Payne knows a thing or two about starting over. His marriage imploded after he broke his back serving as a Marine overseas. He was told he’d never walk again. However, he was back on his feet within months, proving his resilience is only outmatched by his faith.
After moving to Hope Springs for a fresh start, he’s hoping to finally close the door on his past. But it seems the ghosts that still haunt Jaxson have followed him here, bringing danger to his front door.
Margot Anderson had her entire life planned out. Then her husband left her and their thirteen-year-old son. She’s spent the last year holding their lives together with prayers and a positive outlook, and then a former Marine moves into her B&B.