Chapter Twenty-Eight
Wade brooded about the conversation with his father, his predicament at work, and his feelings for Meredith.
He couldn’t resolve any of it.
His father claimed he hadn’t buried Cameron Pickett.
Although Wade didn’t trust Boyd Hendricks to be honest about past crimes, his words had held a ring of truth.
The mystery of the missing corpse haunted Wade.
How could the body disappear from the riverbank, only to reappear again at the burial site?
He supposed it was possible that Pickett had been unconscious, rather than dead, when his mother left the scene.
She wasn’t a reliable source of information, after suppressing the memory for thirty years, not to mention dulling her senses with drugs and alcohol.
Maybe Pickett had dragged himself upstream, only to expire underneath a tree a short while later.
The problem was the burial itself. Wade couldn’t believe that Pickett had lain out in the open, unnoticed, until the earth grew over him.
His thoughts drifted to the trouble at work. Wade was a man who valued his career above all things. He needed to figure out what to say to Nava, and how to protect his mother from prosecution.
Meredith, while safe at the moment, posed another challenge. He tried not to feel despair over the fact that he’d fallen hopelessly in love with her. Although she wasn’t in hiding anymore, their future was uncertain. He didn’t know if she would even stay in Lost Lake.
Wade hazarded a glance at her. She stared out the window at the rain. Chico, the only contented traveler in their trio, snored gently in her lap. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders in loose tangles, and the color had returned to her cheeks.
He focused his attention on the road. He wanted to take her in his arms and strip away the barriers between them.
He wanted to make her happy. His mind drifted back to the afternoon of their first date, when she’d tangled her fingers in his hair as he pleasured her with his mouth.
He pictured her underneath the tree on the riverbank, with her skirt hiked up and her breasts bare.
His blood thickened with arousal.
Then he remembered something else about their sensual interlude.
The carved initials in the tree trunk flashed at the edge of his memory.
He’d taken a photo of them. Keeping one eye on the road, he grabbed his phone, found the photo, and studied it.
The evidence was right there for all the world to see: EN + WN
Eric Nava + Wynona Nolan.
Frowning, he put his phone away. His mother had known Sheriff Nava since they were kids. But she’d dated Cameron, not him. Had Nava been involved with his mother? Someone with the initials EN had been to that swimming hole. What did Nava know about Cameron Pickett’s death?
“You mentioned a resemblance between me and Cameron Pickett,” Wade said.
She glanced away. “Yes.”
“Did you wonder how that came about?”
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
“It wasn’t an appropriate topic for a first date.”
“Oh, were we trying to be appropriate? I don’t remember that. I remember searching for a murder weapon and going down on you.”
Her lips parted on a huff of breath. “I didn’t want to cause more conflict between you and your mother, and it was none of my business. You’re the investigator, not me. It’s your job to notice things and ask questions.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “Are the similarities that obvious?”
“To me they are,” she said, “but I’ve spent a lot of time looking at your face and thinking about you.”
“Thinking about me doing what?”
She twined a strand of hair around her finger and didn’t answer.
Wade wondered if she fantasized about innocent stuff like kissing or imagined other wicked delights.
Instead of pressing her for details, he fell into a contemplative silence.
He wanted to make up with Meredith and move forward, but he wasn’t sure how to proceed.
There were emotions to sort through, and hurdles to overcome.
He was still in a state of shock from the events of the day.
What he’d discovered about his parents would impact him forever. He felt vulnerable and uneasy.
Meredith reached for his hand, and he held it. Love for her swelled in him, drowning out his second thoughts. They could make this work, somehow.
Wade was about to turn on the gravel road toward his mother’s house when his phone blared with a loud warning notification. He glanced at the screen. It was an all-points bulletin with a request for immediate backup. Cursing under his breath, he bypassed the turn and stepped on the gas.
Just what he needed. Another crisis.
“What is it?” Meredith asked.
“There’s a hostage situation in Lost Lake. All officers in the area have been called to the scene.”
“Where in Lost Lake?”
“The Crazy Horse.”
She stared at him in horror.
“Call my mother.”
Meredith scrambled to pick up the phone and press the call button. It went to voicemail. She used the voice app to write a text message to Wynona about avoiding the bar at all costs. She sent a second message. No answer.
“She’s probably drunk at home,” Wade said.
“Probably.”
They were twenty minutes from Lost Lake, but Wade arrived in less than fifteen. He stopped behind a row of wooden barricades about a half a block from the bar. Several other duty vehicles were parked in the area. “Stay here,” he said to Meredith, and removed his gun from the locked box.
“Be careful,” she said. “Please.”
“I will.”
“I love you.”
He paused, uncertain he’d heard her correctly. Her gaze met his, reflecting with emotion. Then he leaned in and kissed her tremulous mouth. “I love you, too.”
And that was that. Saying the words was easier than he’d expected. They’d needed an emergency situation with an armed assailant to prompt them to share their feelings, but so what? No relationship was perfect.
He jogged toward the Crazy Horse with his weapon pointed at the ground.
Police tape marked the perimeter of the scene.
Wade ducked under it. Sheriff Nava was crouched behind his squad car with Jackson and a small group of officers.
Several other first responders stood by, along with a firetruck and an ambulance.
The street, still wet with rain, reflected the flashing lights from the emergency vehicles.
“Hendricks,” Nava said, all business. “We have an armed perpetrator inside the bar with a minimum of two hostages. A tactical team is on the way.”
“Active shooter?”
“He hasn’t fired his weapon.”
“It’s Charlie Franklin,” Jackson said.
Wade glanced at the entrance to the darkened bar, where the huge front window had shattered. Several metal barstools lay in the street, and broken glass littered the sidewalk. “Anyone have eyes on him?”
“Not since he turned off the lights.”
“Who are the hostages?”
“One of them is Elvira,” Jackson said. “The other is female, unidentified.”
“Is it my mother?”
“We don’t know,” Nava said. “To be honest, it could be, and you should probably go behind the line until we get more information.”
“Is that an order or a suggestion?”
Nava didn’t answer.
“I’m staying,” Wade said.
“I see movement,” Jackson said. “He’s coming forward.”
They all crouched down lower, waiting for the assailant to appear.
A voice shouted from inside the bar. “Sheriff, tell your guys to back off.”
Nava surprised Wade by standing up and walking into the open. “Charlie, let’s talk. You know me. We went to high school together.”
“Fuck you!” Charlie shouted. “Tell your guys to clear out.”
“Who’s in there with you?”
Charlie responded by throwing a bottle into the street. It smashed in a spray of brown glass and pungent liquid.
Nava ducked a little but didn’t run for cover. He signaled the fire chief to retreat. After the group of first responders left the area, Nava spoke again. “Let the women go, and I’ll come inside to talk.”
Wade was impressed with Nava for taking on the role of hostage negotiator instead of waiting for an expert to arrive. Lost Lake was a remote community without big-city resources. The decision to take action or delay response was a difficult one, and Wade was glad he didn’t have to make the call.
“I’m not talking to you,” Charlie said. “I want Hendricks.”
Wade’s blood ran cold. Nava didn’t respond.
“Send in Deputy Hendricks,” Charlie said.
“Why him?”
“I have a question for him.”
“I’ll go,” Wade said, standing.
Nava gave a curt shake of his head to deny the request.
“No guns,” Charlie shouted. “No shoes or shirt.”
Wade felt compelled to act, regardless of the sheriff’s wishes.
His mother might be inside. Wade handed his service weapon to Jackson, along with his phone.
Then he removed his uniform shirt and tossed it aside.
He wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest or utility belt. He kicked off his shoes, ready to go.
“Send out a hostage,” Nava said, “and I’ll send in Hendricks.”
“Done,” Charlie said. “But he’s got to come closer.”
Wade came from behind the squad car with his arms raised. He stood in the middle of the street in his khaki uniform pants and police-issue army-green socks. At the edge of the perimeter, a crowd had gathered.
“Stop!” Charlie shouted. “Roll up your pant legs and turn around.”
Wade followed his instructions. He turned around slowly, showing he didn’t have a pistol in his waistband or attached to his ankle.
When Charlie was satisfied, Wade stepped closer, his heart racing.
He could see two figures in the shadows by the broken window.
Charlie appeared to be holding Elvira by the hair, with the barrel of a revolver pressed to her side.
Rivulets of mascara bisected her cheeks.
“Your mother’s in here, Hendricks,” Charlie said.
Wade froze in place. “Send her out.”
“I’m not going,” Wynona called out from the bar. “It’s not a fair trade.”
Wade tried to squash his fear and summon calm. Sweat trickled down his back. His mother was a hostage. A drunk, uncooperative hostage. He spotted Nava’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar, waving at Wade to retreat. Wade didn’t retreat.
“Get your ass out there, Wynona,” Charlie said.
“I’m not going,” she repeated. “Send Elvira instead.”
Wade lost his battle with patience. “Goddamn it, Mom! Do what he says or I’ll shoot you myself!”
“You don’t have a gun,” Charlie said.
“Can I borrow yours?” Wade asked.
His attempt at levity didn’t work. Elvira whimpered, and Charlie growled at Wynona. “You’re on thin ice, Wynona. You’ve got five seconds.”
Wade kept his focus on Charlie, but he was aware of his mother in the periphery. She was wearing high heels that clicked on the floor tiles. Moving gingerly, she stepped over the broken window frame and onto the sidewalk. Glass crunched under her stylish shoes.
“Be careful,” she murmured as she passed by him.
Wade didn’t take a breath until she was clear of danger.
Then he moved forward with grim determination.
He had to convince Charlie to release Elvira.
Shards of glass clung to his socks as he entered the scene.
It was a mess. Tables were overturned and chairs were askew. Broken bottles littered the floor.
“Closer,” Charlie said, drawing him into the shadows.
Wade approached them with caution, his hands raised high. Elvira was trembling uncontrollably, but she appeared unharmed. “Why don’t you let her leave, and we’ll talk this out?”
“Shut up and listen,” Charlie said.
Wade shut up.
“She says you’re sleeping together.”
He glanced at Elvira, stunned by the accusation. “We’re not.”
“Are you calling my wife a liar?”
“I’ve never touched her,” Wade said. “That’s the truth.”
Elvira stared at him with wide eyes, too scared to speak.
Charlie bared his teeth in menace. “Maybe I’ll shoot you both and let God decide.”
Wade wanted to convince Charlie of his innocence, but he had to deescalate the situation. “We have a tactical team in the building across the street. You might be able to get off one shot, but you won’t get two.”
Charlie squinted into the distance.
Wade inched back a step. “Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his palms still raised. “Let your wife go first. Then we can sit down together. We’ll have a nice conversation and sort everything out.”
Charlie ignored this suggestion. He had the unhinged look of a man who was going to follow through at any cost. Elvira must have thought the same thing, because she panicked.
She yanked her arm free of her husband’s grasp and made a run for it.
She tripped over a chair and went sprawling across the debris-strewn floor.
Wade wouldn’t get a better opening. He lowered his shoulder and tackled his opponent, denying him the chance to shoot. They went careening into a section of mirrored wall. It shattered behind Charlie’s back.
Unfortunately, Charlie didn’t fall down. Wade did. He bounced off the broken mirror, stumbled sideways, and took a hard dive into a pile of glass. From that prone position, he couldn’t do much to defend himself.
He covered his head with his arms as gunshots rang out.