Tracking Justice (Texas K-9 Unit) Page 8

  His cell phone rang, and he answered as he studied Rinehart’s mug shot. “Black here.”

  “Austin? It’s Eva.”

  “Is Brady okay?” He set the photo on his desk, glanced at his watch. An hour since he’d left the hospital, and he hadn’t expected Eva to call at all, much less call so soon. There had to be a problem. A big one.

  “He’s fine.” She sounded distracted.

  “Do you need me to come back to the hospital?”

  “No,” she said too quickly.

  “You do need something, though, right?”

  “Not really. It’s just that Brady has been talking about the kidnapping. I thought that I should let you know what he’s been saying.” Her words were hushed as if she didn’t want her son to hear.

  “What’s that?” He grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, adrenaline pouring through him. He might be on administrative leave, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t jot down a few notes and pass them along to Slade.

  “There may be a third man.”

  “Brady said that?”

  “Yes. The two men who kidnapped him were arguing. That’s how he managed to get away from them. The guy with the red hair wanted to shoot Brady and bury his body in the woods.” Her voice broke, and Austin’s grip tightened on the phone. It was all he could do not to get in his SUV and drive back to the hospital.

  He wouldn’t. He’d left because he’d known he couldn’t stay and not start caring too much for Brady and Eva. He needed to stay away for the same reason.

  An image of little Anna Lynn flashed through his mind, her dark eyes and curly dark hair. Her chubby cheeks and excited laughter. She’d called him Uncle Austin, and he’d carried her picture in his wallet, flashed it around like a proud relative. In his heart, that’s what he’d been. He’d been best friends with Anna’s father since elementary school, and he’d known Anna from the day she was born.

  When he’d found her on the banks of a stream deep in the Lost Woods, a piece of his heart had torn apart.

  “What else did Brady say?” he asked, his tone sharper than he’d intended.

  “The dark-haired man said that he didn’t want any part of killing a child. He’d been paid to take the dog, not commit murder. The red-haired man told him that they didn’t have a choice. If they didn’t kill Brady, The Boss would kill them instead.”

  “The Boss?”

  “That’s what Brady said.”

  “Anything else?” he probed.

  “Just that the guy with the red hair got to yelling so loud that he forgot to hold on to Brady’s wrist. Brady took off. It was still dark, so he was able to hide pretty easily. He found the cave a while later and hid in it until you and Justice found him.”

  “Brady is a smart kid.”

  She exhaled softly. “I know. I just wish...”

  “What?”

  “That none of this had happened. I wish we were at home enjoying a quiet day together. I wish that I didn’t have to worry that someone was going to come after my son again.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said gently.

  “You can’t know that, Austin.”

  “You’re right, but I’ll do everything I can to make sure it’s true.”

  “You’re not even working the case right now.” She cleared her throat. “I probably should have called someone else. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

  He thought she did know.

  He knew.

  Austin didn’t believe in soul mates, but when he’d looked into Eva’s eyes at the hospital, he’d felt a moment of recognition so intense that he’d thought that they must have met years ago, been friends for a long time rather than simply acquaintances for a few hours. Something had jumped to life in the depth of her gaze. He’d seen it. Had known that she’d told him to leave because of it.

  Attraction, chemistry, he could stick any name to it that he wanted, and it would still be there. That didn’t mean he had to act on it.

  “We spent hours searching for your son together. That’s plenty of reason for you to call me, Eva.”

  “I just...don’t want to put you out.” She sighed, and Austin imagined her fiddling with the end of her ponytail and staring out the hospital window.

  “You’re not, and you did the right thing in calling me. I’ll pass the information on to Slade. He may want to stop by tomorrow to question Brady.”

  “He’ll have to stop by our place. The doctor came in a few minutes ago. He thinks that Brady will be well enough to go home tomorrow morning.”

  “That must be a relief,” Austin said.

  “It is. I think we’ll both feel better when we’re back at home.”

  “Just make sure you get the security company out to your place quickly.”

  “I have an appointment set up for tomorrow afternoon,” she confirmed. “The company can install the windows, locks and the security system. Hopefully, that will be enough to keep Brady safe.”

  “It’s a good start. You might also want to consider getting a dog.”

  “Did Brady pay you to say that?”

  “No, but I’m sure that he would have tried if he’d thought of it.”

  “For someone who just met him, you know my son well.” She laughed softly, the sound as warm as a sun-drenched spring day.

  “He’s not shy about his desire to get a puppy, so I guess I can’t take credit for a better-than-average ability to read people.”

  “Actually, I think you probably have a way better-than-average ability to do that. I’d better let you go. I’m sure you have a busy day planned.” No more humor in her voice. No more laughter.

  She disconnected, and he was left with the phone pressed to his ear, the pad of paper still sitting on the desk. He jotted a couple more notes, typed a quick email to Slade. He’d call him, too, but the information would be in the computer, and easy to access once the captain got his son settled down.

  Austin glanced at his notes and frowned, circling the words that interested him most.

  Paid to take the dog.

  The Boss.

  Kill them instead.

  If Brady had heard right, someone who’d had money and power had been calling the shots yesterday.

  “I thought you were on leave, Austin. Shouldn’t you be home catching up on some sleep?” Valerie Salgado said.

  The newest member of the Sagebrush Special Operations K-9 Unit, she came from a long line of police officers and seemed more than capable of following in the footsteps of her family. There was a softness about the rookie cop that surprised Austin, though. An openness that he hoped wouldn’t be changed as months on the police force turned into years.

  “I was heading that way. I just stopped in to see if the medical examiner had ID’d the deceased perp.”

  “Did he?” Valerie asked.

  “Yes. The guy’s name was Jeb Rinehart. He’s served time. Was just released a few weeks ago.”

  “Probably would have been better for him if he’d stayed in jail.” Valerie tucked a strand of long red hair behind her ear and lifted the mug shot, then leaned over Austin’s shoulder and read the notes he’d written.

  “Who’s that?” She jabbed at The Boss.

  “Brady Billows says that The Boss was calling the shots on Rio’s theft and on Brady’s kidnapping.” He filled Valerie in on the information that Brady had given Eva, and she frowned.

  “The victim is seven?”

  “Right.”

  “It’s easy for a kid that age to confuse information that he hears. Especially when he’s under stress.”

  “True.” But the story Brady had told was detailed, and Austin couldn’t imagine that it was a product of confusion.

  “But you don’t think he’s confused?”

  “No,” he said.

  “If he’s not, then we’ve got a big problem. The only way to solve it is to find the second kidnapper.” She glanced at him. “What was Rinehart in jail for? Maybe we can search the database for guys who match the descrip
tion you gave this morning and who have similar rap sheets to his.”

  “Drugs. Selling and possession.”

  “In that case, we might want to check with Parker.”

  “Check with me about what?” Parker Adams called from his desk.

  “You’ve got some good ears, you know that, Parker?” Valerie responded.

  “Only when my name is being mentioned. Who’s the perp?” Parker joined them in Austin’s cubicle, his dark hair slightly mussed. An undercover narcotics detective with the K-9 Unit, he knew most of the drug dealers in Sagebrush and had an ear to the pulse of the drug underground.

  “Jeb Rinehart.”

  “I know the name. We put him away two years ago. The guy is—”

  “Was,” Austin cut in, and Parker frowned.

  “He’s your dead perp?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m surprised that he was involved in something that he was willing to take a bullet for. He was a small-time thug who was more interested in where he was going to get his next fix than in anything else.”

  “According to his kidnapping victim, Rinehart was afraid for his life,” Austin explained, offering the information that Brady had provided.

  “We need to find the guy he was working with. Pauly Keevers may be able to help us on that. Want me to put the word out on the street that you’re looking for information?” Parker asked.

  “If you think that he has information about Rinehart’s friends, then, yes.”

  “Is there a criminal in Sagebrush who Pauly doesn’t have information about?” Valerie asked. A good question. A street thug who liked to play both sides of the fence, Keevers was in the business of exchanging information for money.

  “Probably not, but Keevers and Rinehart live in the same apartment complex. If I know Keevers, he knows everything there is to know about the people who live in his building. Friends. Family. Secrets. He’ll know who Rinehart hung with, and he’ll know who he might have been working for. For a price, he’ll share that information.” Parker sounded excited, and Austin had to admit, his adrenaline was pumping, too. They finally had a name, a face, a little bit of information that might lead them to more information.

  “Sounds like a plan, Parker.”

  “Now that I’m thinking about it,” Parker continued. “There’s another guy you might want to talk to. Name is Camden West. He was arrested the same time as Rinehart. Booked on possession, distribution and possession of an illegal firearm. He’s doing nine years in the state prison. He and Rinehart were high school buddies. Next-door neighbors.”

  “Cell mates?” Valerie asked.

  “Doubtful, but if anyone knows what Rinehart was involved in, it’s Camden West.”

  “I’ll pay him a visit,” Austin cut in.

  “You’re forgetting that you’ve been put on leave, Austin,” Valerie reminded him.

  “Not forgetting. Just choosing to believe that I’ll be off it soon.”

  “If not, I’ll make the visit for you. Speaking of which, I’ve got to do a follow-up interview with Susan Daphne.”

  “Brady’s babysitter?” Austin wanted to be the one to interview her. Wanted to be deep into the investigation rather than heading home to catch up on sleep.

  “Slade thought Brady might have mentioned something to her or that she might have heard something around the time she sent him out to walk her dog. He asked me to handle interviewing witnesses until you’re reinstated.”

  “Thanks,” Austin said, but he wasn’t happy about letting Valerie or anyone else handle any part of the case he’d been assigned. He didn’t start something and stop. He kept going until he found what he was looking for.

  Rio. Brady’s kidnapper. The Boss. Answers.

  Lots of answers.

  He turned off his computer, grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and walked outside.

  Thick clouds covered the sun, their steel-gray color matching Austin’s mood. He needed to get home, catch a few hours of sleep. Tomorrow was a new day, and it would bring its own set of problems.

  The thought of going home didn’t thrill him—the empty Victorian about as appealing as a steam bath on a summer day. Justice was there, of course, but talking to a dog wasn’t the same as talking to a person. Someone who asked questions, exchanged ideas, wanted more than a game of fetch, a bowl of dog chow and a belly rub.

  He hopped into his SUV, tempted to drive to the hospital and check on Brady one last time. Only Brady was fine. He had an armed guard stationed outside his door, a mother who would give her life for him, a K-9 unit searching for his kidnapper. As long as he stayed in the hospital, the potential for danger was minimal.

  So maybe Eva was really the person Austin wanted to see.

  Her soft green eyes and softer smile. Her quiet laughter and guarded heart. Vulnerable but tough. That appealed to him more than he wanted it to. She appealed to him.

  He’d admit it, but he wouldn’t act on it.

  Not now.

  Probably not ever.

  Because his life was about his work, his focus on his job. He couldn’t be any other way, and that wasn’t something that the women he’d dated had ever been able to understand.

  Candace had been the last woman that he’d tried for. After her, he’d decided that casual dating was easier than long-term commitment and planning for the future.

  But it was also emptier. Lonelier.

  He frowned, turning up the radio and trying to drown out the thought.

  He had a good life. A great one. He’d been blessed to have a mother who’d raised him by herself, but who’d known the meaning of sacrificial love. He’d learned a lot from her example, and he’d been determined to pull himself out of the poverty that he’d been born into, to make something of himself, to contribute to the community and to the world. It had taken time, hard work and dedication, but he’d done it. If his mother had lived, she would have been proud.

  She’d also have told him that there was more to life than work. More to happiness than a job or financial success.

  She’d have been right, but Austin’s course was set, and he didn’t plan to veer from it.

  No matter how tempting Eva might be.

  NINE

  Maybe another night in the hospital would have been best, Eva thought as she chopped onions for soup stock. Brady sat silent and morose at the kitchen table, his skin so pale it was almost translucent.

  “You need to eat some of your sandwich, sweetie,” she said, tossing the onions into the pot.

  “I’m not hungry, Momma.”

  “I know that you don’t feel hungry, but the doctor said you need to eat. If you don’t, you might end up back in the hospital.”

  He sighed and took a tiny bite of sandwich, the bruise on his forehead deep purple. The scratches on his cheek looked raw, and his battered knees peeked out from beneath faded pajama shorts. He hadn’t wanted bandages, and she’d let him have his way. They were both grumpy from too little sleep, and choosing her battles had seemed like the right thing to do.

  She tossed diced carrots in with the onions, threw celery in on top of that. A big pot of chicken noodle soup would last most of the week. A good thing since money would be tight for a while. The security system and new locks had cost a small fortune, and despite her coworkers’ donation, Eva hadn’t been able to afford new windows. She’d have to pinch pennies in order to have them installed, and that’s exactly what she planned to do.

  She also needed to write a thank-you note to her coworkers and bake some cookies to bring in for the café’s staff on Wednesday. But all she really wanted to do was get through the day, tuck Brady into bed, lie down beside him and sleep until the sun came up.

  She glanced at the clock.

  Three in the afternoon.

  They had a long way to go before either of them would be going to bed.

  “I think that I’m finished, Momma. May I go play with my blocks?” Brady slid his plate away, the sandwich barely touched. She’d made h
is favorite, too. Grilled cheese with ham.

  “As soon as I finish this.” She placed a large stewing chicken into the pot and poured water over it.

  “I can play in the living room by myself, Momma.” Brady scowled.

  He was right.

  Logically, she knew it.

  But she hadn’t been logical since she’d walked into his bedroom and seen his empty bed and open window.

  “I know you can, but how about you give me a hand, instead? Find the big lid that we use for the stew pot, okay?”

  He moved like an old man, crossing the small kitchen and bending gingerly to look through the cupboard next to the stove.

  “Never mind, buddy. I’ll find it.” She crouched beside him, touching his forehead, his cheek, his scratched-up hand. “You go ahead and play with your blocks. Just make sure that you stay in the living room. No going outside or anything.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” He offered a tiny smile, nothing like the full-out ones he usually gave, and limped from the room.

  She had to force herself not to follow.

  He’d be okay in the living room, the curtains pulled closed over the windows, the door locked, a police cruiser parked at the curb in front of the house.

  Slade had promised twenty-four-hour protection until Brady’s kidnapper was caught, and so far, he’d followed through. He’d had two patrol cars escort her home, a police officer walk her inside and search the entire house.

  Eva shouldn’t feel as if Brady could disappear at any moment, but she did.

  She peered into the living room, watching as Brady dumped a small plastic container full of blocks onto the floor. He looked so little, so vulnerable.

  An image flashed through her mind. Brady at the hospital, cradled in Austin’s arms. He’d looked safe there. Protected.

  She shoved the image away, stalking back to the soup pot, adding salt and pepper and digging the lid out of the cupboard. She turned down the gas, left the stock to simmer. A few hours and she could remove the chicken. If Brady was up to it, he could help her peel chicken from the bones.

  The doorbell rang, and she jumped.

  “Don’t answer it, Brady!” she yelled as she wiped her hands on a dishcloth and ran into the living room.