Chapter Eight
Bradly Retreat
Billie knocked on the door of Charly’s cabin. Her SUV wasn’t parked in its usual spot, which likely meant she wasn’t back from shopping, but he still knocked. When she didn’t appear at the door, he dropped into one of the wooden rocking chairs on her front porch.
The conference call with Victoria and the team back at the office in Chicago had proven troubling.
He was grateful for what they had been able to find, but the facts recounted to him were even more disturbing than what he’d found on his own the past couple of days.
There was definitely something going on in the area.
The consensus was that his sister’s and her husband’s abductions were related to an ongoing trafficking ring.
An ache pierced his chest. He’d had his suspicions regarding the possibility right from the beginning.
But there had been no concrete proof. But now he couldn’t deny the mounting evidence.
He had to hand it to whoever was behind this nasty business; they were smart.
There were seven counties fanned around Marshall: Madison, Jackson, Dekalb, Etowah, Blount, Cullman and Morgan.
Madison and Marshall had the highest tourist activity.
Marshall because of Guntersville and Madison because of Huntsville.
Like most in the country, the other seven counties had an average number of disappearances annually.
Many were found; others were not. Those counties with large metropolitan areas had considerably more, of course.
Marshall County’s annual unfound missing stats were somewhat lower than average.
The part that bothered Billie was the fact that most of those not found fit into a certain profile.
White, female, light hair and eyes…like Briana.
Granted, it was the perfect location for having a wide range to choose from considering the number of tourists from all over the world who flocked here. Madison County was a close second except the bigger portion of those not found were victims of color with dark hair and eyes.
It was a sickening scenario, but Billie couldn’t ignore it. Even the Bureau was watching the growing evidence that something was off with these statistics. That was the trouble with bureaucratic red tape. It always took far too long to reach a conclusion and then to decide to do something about it.
Billie wasn’t waiting. He intended to act now.
Whoever was behind this operation was cherry picking victims, which could only mean one thing: He had scouts previewing those coming and going. The scout would snap photos and send them to whoever was in charge, who would in turn select the targets.
Anger burned in his gut. Someone in this town—someone people knew and possibly trusted—was the worst kind of monster. The kind who did bad things without ever getting his or her hands dirty.
Victoria had warned Billie to proceed with caution. He was in a jurisdiction where the agency had no influence, no contacts. He was on his own. They would do all possible to help get things moving at the Bureau and certainly if he needed backup, the agency would have someone en route ASAP.
At this time, that wasn’t necessary. Billie had the only backup he needed. He smiled in spite of the worry twisting inside him. Charly was a pretty damned good partner.
His cell vibrated and he pulled it from his pocket. She must have known he was thinking of her. Her name appeared on the screen. He accepted the call.
“Hey, I’m back and—”
“Billie, I… I’m…” She exhaled a big breath.
The fear in her voice had him pushing to his feet. Tension rushed through him. “What’s wrong, Charly? Where are you?”
“I’m on the…ah end of Bakers Chapel not far from Vince’s place. I need help.”
“Don’t hang up,” he said as he sprinted toward his SUV. “I’m on my way. Just stay on the line with me.”
When he’d turned the vehicle around and headed out of the retreat, he asked, “What happened?”
“I… I was driving home from the market and a black SUV came up behind me, almost hit me so I sped up to get away. I guess I went into the curve too fast, and I hit a pothole. The next thing I knew I was crashed in the ditch.”
A dozen knots had twisted in his gut. “Are you okay? Do we need to call EMS?”
“No, no… I’m okay. I think. Shaken. Just shaken.”
“Are you still in the vehicle?” He pressed harder on the accelerator. Needed to get there faster.
“No. I got out. Luckily, my door wasn’t damaged. I made my way up to the road.”
He spotted her in the distance. “I see you,” he said, the urgency nearly choking him now. “I’m almost to you.”
“’Kay.”
The call dropped off. He pulled to the side of the road and shoved into Park. He was out of the vehicle and rushing toward her without closing the door or shutting off the engine.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He held her by the shoulders and looked her up and down. No blood. No obvious sign of injury. He looked closely into her eyes. No dilated pupils.
“Yeah, yeah. The airbag deployed so I’m kind of…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Shaken, I guess. But I’m okay.” She gestured to the ditch. “I have to get my supplies home.”
Then he looked down at her vehicle in the deep ditch. She’d slammed into a tree on the driver’s side. She could have injuries she didn’t know about just yet.
“We’re going to the ER just to be sure.”
She tried to argue but he ushered her to his SUV. No way was he going to just assume she was fine.
Not after a crash like that one.
She could have been killed.
Every instinct warned this was a direct result of their digging into his sister’s disappearance.
Someone did not want them getting any closer.
Marshall Medical Center North
8000 AL-69
Guntersville, Alabama, 1:00 p.m.
CHARLY WAS NOT happy with having spent so much time in the ER.
To set her worries at ease and because it was the right thing to do, while she suffered through the various procedures for ensuring she had no nonvisible injuries, Billie had gone back to her vehicle and lugged her purchases up to his SUV.
The task would have taken far longer but a deputy came along and spotted the trouble.
He’d helped Billie with the biggest part of the load, all the while asking questions about the accident.
Once the transfer was finished, the deputy had headed to the hospital to talk to Charly.
Billie had hurried to her cabin and unloaded the goods, refrigerating all that required that step. The rest sat around her small kitchen.
He’d gotten back to the hospital in time to await the visit from the doctor before she was released and to hopefully ease her frustration.
“Did the fruit seem okay?” She searched his eyes, hers overly concerned about something that didn’t matter in the larger scheme of things. “The bananas bruise so easily.”
“The bananas and everything else are fine.” He smiled. Decided to tease her a little. “A case of water may have flattened the boxes of chocolate.”
“Oh no.” She made a sad face. “That’s the best part of the fruit baskets.”
He laughed. “I’m kidding. Everything was fine. You couldn’t have packed it better for an accident if you’d planned it.”
She nodded. Seemingly satisfied. The nurse had allowed her to put her clothes back on instead of waiting in that less than comfortable gown she’d had to put on at first.
“That deputy who helped you,” she said, “came by and took a report. Not much good it will do. The guy was wearing that baseball cap, the bill pulled low so I couldn’t see his face.
All I know is that he was driving a black SUV.
” She shook her head. “He didn’t hit me, just scared the heck out of me.
Maybe he was just some guy in a hurry. I guess the accident was my own fault. ”
Billie didn’t see it that way. “If that pothole hadn’t sent you spiraling out of control, I feel confident he would have made another move.
Think about it. He drove away and left you in that ditch.
If he’d been some guy just driving along, surely he would have stopped or at least called the police. ”
Regular people didn’t leave someone possibly injured stranded in a ditch.
“Makes sense,” she agreed. “I forgot to ask. Did the sheriff have any news?”
“He wasn’t impressed with my suggestion about the potential pattern over the past sixteen years in his jurisdiction. I can’t believe he hadn’t already noticed but who knows?” He decided to leave out the part about the sheriff’s suggestion that Billie stand down and let him do his job.
“Deputy Lathan talked to me at the market.” She rolled her eyes, signaling it wasn’t exactly informative or constructive. “They have all sorts of ideas about the trouble you may be causing by nosing around in the investigation and making the locals look bad.”
He smiled. “Yeah. I got that impression from Sheriff Malone.”
She sighed. “I just wish we would get some sort of news. A sighting. Something. Surely, calls are coming in to that hotline the sheriff’s department set up.”
“So far, nothing they’re telling us about.
He told me this morning they’re running Briana’s and Martin’s photos on all the local channels as well as in a statewide bulletin.
Sounds like he’s taking all the usual protocols.
An FBI agent from the Huntsville field office is meeting with him this afternoon. ”
“Are you going?” She searched his gaze, hope in hers.
“No. Malone didn’t invite me and I didn’t push. I want him to believe I have complete faith in his ability to get the job done. Besides, my people will hear about the results anyway.”
“Deputy Lathan didn’t sound as if he or the sheriff trusted what you and your agency are up to.” She made a face. “They really hate that we’re looking into what happened. But what do they expect? She’s your sister for God’s sake.”
“Sometimes it’s best to leave that layer intact,” Billie explained. “The one that allows the other side to believe what they choose. But that doesn’t mean you’re doing what they think you’re doing.”