Chapter 11
11
T ravis swung by his office and picked up a new cell. The old one needed to be fished out of the bottom of the lake, but nothing could happen right now. Thanks to tech wizards, his data had been transferred to the new phone, meaning he got to keep the same number. He double-checked to ensure the info was transferred. Scrolling through his contact names, the list appeared to be complete. His text messages were there, too. His home screen had the same everything, including the background picture.
He pocketed the cell and then moved on to his next task, getting updates from his secretary, Margie Banter. Margie was creeping up on seventy years old and refused to retire unless asked to. And then, it was questionable. She might be old and not possess tech skills, but she made up for it by digging into people’s backgrounds and finding out information only a handful of folks knew. She had what Travis’s mother would have called the gift of gab. That gift had ferreted out more lies and confirmed more truths than any national database ever could. Her methods might be old-fashioned, but they worked. The classes she’d taken at the community college to learn the basics of using a computer were enough for her to get by.
“I need you to check into a background for me,” he told Margie after calling her to his temporary office as acting sheriff. She’d kept quiet about his former boss until he was caught. As it turned out, Margie had been keeping records for the past couple of years of her suspicions. The information she’d provided would keep the criminal locked up for a long time to come.
“Okay,” Margie said with a twinkle in her eye. She always got that spark when it came to doing investigative work. “Who am I checking on?”
“Beaumont Sturgess the Second has a mother out there somewhere,” he said. “I need to know if she is alive and if there is anything else you can dig up—address, phone number, place of employment. Plus, I need to know if she has a criminal record.”
Margie smiled. “If she has so much as been caught jaywalking, I’ll be sure to make a note for the file.”
“I’d like to speak to her as soon as possible,” he said after a nod. “See if she’ll agree to a meeting.”
Needles of rain tapped harder on the glass.
“You better head home,” he said. “This can wait until the weather blows over.”
Margie compressed her lips into a frown. “You’re probably right.”
“I know I am,” he said. “It’s getting worse out there fast. You don’t want to get behind this one.”
“What about you?” Margie asked.
“I’ll be right behind you,” he said. “Sandy’s on shift tonight.”
Margie wagged her index finger at him. “You shouldn’t be here right now.”
He put his hands up in surrender. “I’m not here right now. You’re looking at a ghost.”
The comment made Margie smile. “Good. You can hold the door open for me on my way out after I grab my purse.” She disappeared down the hallway, her step a little lighter. She would have made a solid deputy in her day. Her husband had taught math at the high school before hitting it big on a stock as a hobby day trader. They’d bought a nice RV and traveled the country until Wayne’s untimely death five years ago. Margie wore her wedding ring on a chain around her neck and made plenty of jokes about it. But she’d loved her husband. After Wayne’s death, she’d asked the former sheriff for a job to pass the days until she could be with Wayne. Ten years later, she was as mentally sharp as anyone Travis knew. When he’d taken over the role temporarily as sheriff, she’d come to him to ask to keep her job. Travis said the job was hers as long as she wanted it. Her smile had been ear-to-ear. She’d told him that he wouldn’t regret the decision to keep her on.
No question there. He’d worked with her for years as a deputy. Margie was the best. Period. She also noticed little things others missed, so he was glad nothing had come up about Chloe.
It was becoming more difficult to tuck his true feelings about her away.
Phone. Wallet. Keys. And laptop.
Travis checked to ensure he had all three. Yep.
Walking out of the office, he turned off the lights behind him. True to her word, Margie waited at the reception desk, where she spent most of her time while at the office. She had her handbag tucked under her shoulder and a smile on her face.
The door automatically locked behind them since the building had direct access to the jail. Employees needed a badge to get in. Visitors needed to be buzzed in.
“Drive careful,” Margie said after he walked her to her vehicle.
“You know I will,” he responded.
She paused before getting inside. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m proud of you. I think you’re going to make a good sheriff.”
The comment caught him off guard. He took it as the compliment it was meant to be. “Thank you, Margie. Means a lot coming from you.”
She tapped on the top of the opened car door and smiled before taking the driver’s seat.
Travis smiled as he walked to his vehicle. Once inside, he swung by home to pick up an overnight bag. The overpasses were already starting to ice over. Not a good sign. Sandy was in for a rough night if folks didn’t heed warnings and stay off the roads.
The bad weather would give Travis and Chloe an opportunity to regroup. Both could rest and bounce ideas around. He also wanted to find out the whereabouts of Grayson’s father. The band’s movements shouldn’t be too difficult to track.
As soon as he pulled up to his two-bedroom bungalow on Swisher Street, he parked and then fired off a text to Margie with a request to dig into the band to find out where they’d last toured. Chloe had mentioned Blake Swindell had been drugged-out three-plus years ago when she’d first told him about the pregnancy. Had he cleaned up his act since then?
The timing of Blake’s band coming to town and the events happening to Chloe struck Travis as notable as he pulled out of his drive. There didn’t appear to be a motive to harm Chloe in any way. Did the man want her back? Was he trying to scare her into running back into his arms? Or was this jealousy talking?
Who else besides Blake knew he had a three-year-old child? Travis wanted to have a conversation with all of Blake’s inner circle once he established the band was in town. Or, at least, a few members or road crew.
Since a photo had run of the Sturgess family at the funeral, Travis should ask Harrison Guidry if there would be any other surprise kids. Beaumont’s best friend and lawyer was most likely his confidant as well. Guidry might have information about mistresses. But would he be willing to share the knowledge?
A subpoena might change the lawyer’s mind if needed. However, Travis would need a reason beyond a hunch for a judge to sign off on the paperwork.
Before Travis realized it, he was close enough to the trailer park to make out a single vehicle sitting at the keypad to unlock the metal gate. He recognized the vehicle as belonging to Chloe.
What were the chances they were arriving at the same time? A knot formed in the pit of Travis’s stomach as he got close enough to realize the back bumper of her car had been struck, the engine was still running, and the driver’s seat was empty.
He roared up directly behind her and came to a stop. After cutting the engine and snatching the key, he exited his truck. Wind nipped at his coat and caused his breath to come out like an exhaled drag of cigarette smoke.
Needles of hail pricked the exposed skin of his face.
Where was she?
Teeth chattering, Chloe hadn’t stopped running since Linebacker had exited the vehicle behind hers. Thankfully, she knew the area like the back of her hand, and she assumed that was the main reason she’d left Linebacker in the dust. The advantage wouldn’t last long in the woods around the trailer park.
Her right foot caught on underbrush, causing her to faceplant. Even with eyes adjusted to the darkness, it was difficult to see more than two feet in front of her. Thankfully, she ate weeds instead of slamming her face into a tree trunk.
After standing up, she stopped and listened. Heavy footsteps fell a few yards behind her, maybe more. Linebacker was too close for comfort, possibly even gaining ground.
When she’d heard his engine roar, she wrongfully assumed he had taken off. Instead, he’d followed her and then parked on the side of the road before hopping out on foot.
Branches slapped her in the face and chest as she picked up running again. Could she circle to her vehicle? Which way? In the cover of the night, she was turned around and confused.
And the heavy footsteps kept coming. Was he gaining on her?
She couldn’t tell.
Panic gripped her at the thought someone would kill her out in these woods, dumping her body and making Grayson an orphan. No way could she allow that to happen. Adrenaline thumped through her, numbing her from the bite in the air.
Without her cell, she had no way to call for help. Plus, the flashlight app would’ve proven helpful in navigating the woods once she’d lost the sonofabitch who’d come at her. Her thoughts immediately snapped to the serial killer dubbed the Reaper, who’d stalked Kade’s now wife. Chloe had also been abducted and narrowly escaped with her life. The recent events had made her wary of her own shadow. Parking her brother’s truck outside her trailer only went so far as to detour a criminal from breaking into her home for theft or other purposes—purposes that made her skin crawl when she let her mind wander.
Could she wait this guy out? Should she stay right where she was and let him run past?
What were the odds he would be able to track her exact movements?
A small glow coming from behind said it would be easier with a light. Was he using his cell?
Fear caused her to shake, but she refused to give in as she crouched down low. She felt around on the ground for something to use as a weapon. Anything. A rock. A sharp stick.
Her fingers closed around a rock the size of a brick. Could she use it as a distraction? Because the glow was coming right toward her. It wouldn’t be long before he was right on top of her. Considering his size and the fact he had a weapon, she was at a severe disadvantage. The element of surprise would help.
What else could she do?
Without hesitation, she acted the moment an idea popped. Gripping the rock in her right hand, she flung it as far to the right as she humanly could. It landed with a loud thunk .
The light beam immediately shifted to the direction of the sound. Those heavy footsteps redirected, too.
Chloe held her breath. The deafening sound of her own heartbeat in her ears drowned out every other noise. She could do this. She could stay quiet. She could make herself small. All she had to do was stay in this position a little longer while Linebacker headed in the wrong direction. She’d let him get far enough away for her to double back to her car.
Without so much as a peep, she stayed in position. Her calves cramped, and her nose started to run from the cold, but she refused to move a muscle, not even to sniff. One ill-timed breath could turn Linebacker’s attention to her actual location.
The light stopped. Slowly, she exhaled before drawing in another slow breath. Making herself as small as humanly possible, she held tight to her knees…and waited.
An eternity passed in those few minutes as Linebacker stayed put, the light searching for her as he must have been listening to figure out where she’d taken off to next.
Could she get away with throwing another rock?
Her body shook so hard from being cold that she feared the sound would give her away.
The light shined in her direction. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth and stop a gasp.
Hold on.
Memories of hiding in cupboards when Beaumont was on a tear slammed into her. The helplessness of being a child hiding from an adult as he threatened to tear the house apart had filled her with terror—as she was now.
Waiting her father out had been her specialty. Hiding had helped her survive. Because once he’d calmed down, the punishment had become more reasonable. Her early memories were of Kade stepping in the line of fire. She hadn’t realized he’d been drawing the fury toward him and away from her when she’d been a young child. It wasn’t until years later that she’d figured out her brother hadn’t been a glutton for punishment by baiting Beaumont; he’d been protecting her.
A few more intense moments passed.
Chloe had no idea how long she’d been hunkered down, or in the woods for that matter. However, it was long enough for her fingertips to go numb along with her cheeks. If she didn’t warm up soon, Linebacker wouldn’t have to kill her.
Linebacker moved on. Chloe waited enough time to ensure the man was gone.
And then she headed in the opposite direction. Was she moving toward home? Deeper in the woods?
At this point, she was too turned around to tell the difference.
More of those branches slapped her face, arms, and torso as she booked it as far away from Linebacker as she could.
Should she do something to ensure she wasn’t running around in circles? Mark a tree trunk? Leave a torn scrap of clothing?
Chloe stopped. She’d been running a good ten minutes. Still in the woods. Still with no idea how to get out. Still without any means to protect herself.
The sound of a twig snapping to her left sent a shockwave through her body. She suppressed the urge to scream.
She was no longer alone.