Holding the Truth Read online

  HOLDING THE TRUTH

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Holding the Truth (Small-Town Sheriffs, #1)

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Chapter 109

  Chapter 110

  Chapter 111

  Chapter 112

  Chapter 113

  Chapter 114

  Chapter 115

  Chapter 116

  Chapter 117

  Chapter 118

  Chapter 119

  Chapter 120

  Chapter 121

  Chapter 122

  Chapter 123

  Chapter 124

  Chapter 125

  Chapter 126

  Chapter 127

  Chapter 128

  Chapter 129

  Chapter 130

  Chapter 131

  Chapter 132

  Chapter 133

  Chapter 134

  Chapter 135

  Chapter 136

  Chapter 137

  Chapter 138

  Chapter 139

  Chapter 140

  Chapter 141

  Chapter 142

  Chapter 143

  Chapter 144

  Chapter 145

  Chapter 146

  Chapter 147

  Chapter 148

  Chapter 149

  Chapter 150

  chapter 151

  Chapter 152

  Chapter 153

  Chapter 154

  Chapter 155

  Chapter 156

  Chapter 157

  Chapter 158

  Chapter 159

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  Further Reading: Hiding

  CALLE J.

  BROOKES

  LOST RIVER LIT PUBLISHING, LLC

  SPRINGS VALLEY INDIANA

  EST. 2011

  Other books by

  Calle J.

  Brookes

  ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  PAVAD: FBI ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  Beginning (Prequel 1)

  Waiting (Prequel 2)

  Watching

  Wanting

  Second Chances

  Hunting

  Running

  Redeeming

  Revealing

  Stalking

  Ghosting

  Burning

  Gathering

  Falling

  Hiding

  Seeking

  FINLEY CREEK SERIES

  TRILOGY ONE (TEXAS STATE POLICE)

  Her Best Friend’s Keeper

  Shelter from the Storm

  The Price of Silence

  TRILOGY TWO (FINLEY CREEK GENERAL)

  If the Dark Wins

  Wounds That Won’t Heal

  Hope for Finley Creek (bonus novella)

  As the Night Ends

  MASTERSON COUNTY NOVELLA SERIES

  Seeking the Sheriff

  Discovering the Doctor

  Ruining the Rancher

  Denying the Devil

  SUSPENSE/THRILLER

  PAVAD: FBI CASE FILES

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0001

  “Knocked Out”

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0002

  “Knocked Down”

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0003

  “Knocked Around”

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0004

  “White Out”

  Calle has several free reads available at

  www.CalleJBrookesReads.com

  For my grandfather, the best man I have ever known.

  You will be missed.

  Oct. 2015

  For my grandmother, who gave me the courage to try. Without you and your love of romance, I never would have made it this far.

  Feb. 2016

  For my papaw, whose children loved him deeply, and will always

  miss him.

  Oct. 2017

  Calle J. Brookes is first and foremost a fiction writer. She enjoys crafting paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She reads almost every genre except horror. She spends most of her time juggling family life and writing while reminding herself that she can’t spend all of her time in the worlds found within books. CJ loves to be contacted by her readers via email and at www.CalleJBrookes.com. When not at home writing stories of adventure and wrangling with two border collies and a beagle puppy, CJ is off in her RV somewhere exploring the beautiful world we live in, along with her husband of she can’t remember how many years and their child.

  STS12019

  HOLDING THE TRUTH

  Copyright © 2019 by Calle J. Brookes

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, orga
nizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact:

  www.callejbrookes.com

  Book and Cover design by B. G. Lashbrooks

  First Edition: FEB2019

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  HOLDING

  THE

  TRUTH

  SMALL-TOWN SHERIFFS

  BOOK ONE

  CALLE J.

  BROOKES

  Yes, truly, for look you,

  the sins of the father

  are to be laid upon the children.

  Therefore, I promise ye I fear you.

  —William Shakespeare

  Prologue

  Sheriff Clay Addy sat by the hospital bed for hours, watching her sleep. Counting her breaths. Listening to the beeps and hums of the machines that told him the woman still lived.

  She’d died twice on the surgeon’s table. They’d brought her back. Thank God they’d managed to bring Bailey back.

  Her eyes opened, so blue they looked unreal, but they were clouded and unfocused. A small cry escaped her. Clay leaned over her so she would know that she wasn’t alone. “Bailey, honey, it’s ok. You’re safe now.”

  “Sheriff...you got them?” Her words were strained, but he still heard. He’d never thought he’d get to hear her again. “Is...Kyra safe?”

  “Yes, she’s safe now. With Agent Lake.”

  “She loves him. Could tell. Did you get the men? My father?” Her eyes closed as her small hand twitched on the blanket. Her small, cut, bruised, and broken hand. Clay brushed her fingers lightly, just above the plaster cast.

  He just needed to touch her for a moment.

  “Don’t worry about that now.” Clay would get the men who'd done this to her. Even if it took the rest of his life, he’d get the men who’d hurt Bailey. Including her own father. “You just rest.”

  “Don’t have to stay. Know you don’t want to.” Her eyes remained closed, her breathing deepened. Clay let out the breath he’d been holding. “Know you don’t like me very much.”

  “Of course I like you.” But she was already out. He stood, staring down at her for a long moment.

  Bailey was two weeks shy of her twenty-fifth birthday, but she barely looked old enough to vote. He’d known her since she had been nine and he had been twice that. Her hair was pale gold, with slight curl. Someone had washed her hair and braided it into two braids. Probably the redheaded nurse who was hovering nearby.

  When she’d been brought in, she’d been soaking wet and covered with mud and sludge of some sort.

  And blood.

  Clay would never forget Bailey’s blood. Or the words she'd written in her own blood and the dry Texas soil.

  Bailey made such a small lump under the thin blanket. Small and vulnerable and having barely survived hell.

  Not like her? Hell, that couldn’t be further from the truth. He felt so much more for her than that.

  Bailey Moore was the center of his world. And had been for months now.

  Bailey kept him centered, grounded. Reminded him of sunshine and hope. Without her, he’d simply sink into oblivion in his personal life and drown in his duty as the sheriff.

  He wasn’t stupid; he knew how he felt about her bordered on obsession. It scared him just how intensely he did.

  Clay had never felt for a woman the way he did this one. He probably never would another, either.

  He’d wanted nothing more than for some rancher to come and carry her off—carry her somewhere where she couldn’t haunt him with just a simple smile. Take her somewhere and make her happy. Give her everything she deserved.

  Someone had carried her off, and it had been her own bravery that led to her rescue.

  He had almost lost her.

  Chapter 1

  Bailey Moore was back.

  Clayton Addy, sheriff of Value, Texas—population eight hundred and nine—knew it from the first moment he walked into his office that ridiculously sunny Monday morning. Bailey was back.

  He could almost smell the shampoo she used.

  He dreamed of that shampoo sometimes. Dreamed of her shampoo, dreamed of her blue eyes, dreamed of her slightly crooked smile. The smattering of freckles over her smooth cheeks. The tiny dimple that flashed every once in a while when she was truly happy about something.

  That dimple had teased him from the very beginning.

  Clay also dreamed of finding her almost dead every damned night.

  Those were the dreams he could never get past. He had failed her. Through his stupidity, he had failed her.

  He never should have left it at one guard all those months ago. He should have known they were dealing with far too many unknowns. She had paid the price for his stupidity.

  First with a bullet, and then with hours of captivity at the hands of the one man who never should have let someone hurt her. Bailey's father and his friends were still out there somewhere. Clay hadn’t been able to find them yet.

  But Bailey...Bailey was back.

  And he had no idea how he was supposed to deal with her.

  Clay fell back on his go-to position. He looked out of his office toward the four desks that stood silently in the middle of the small bullpen. They had a total population of just over eight hundred, but that was mostly in the five-mile region surrounding the town. He still covered the entire Barratt County population, of nearly four thousand. He had three deputies on duty now at all times.

  He'd forgotten Jeremy had taken over the scheduling for him two months ago. Forgotten that Verity, the dispatcher, had made a point to remind him that Bailey was coming back today. She’d even provided cake and fruit punch. A welcome-back banner hung over the bullpen.

  Veri’s doing, no doubt.

  It was one hell of a thirty-sixth birthday present for himself, and he knew it.

  Bailey Moore had no business ever setting foot in a Texas State Police building. Especially his. Maybe doing forensics, or something off the radar like that—if she felt like she needed to do this job for some reason.

  Maybe he could nudge her toward a transfer to nearby Finley Creek County. It was far bigger and had a much better forensics unit than he did. His entire unit consisted of one deputy who'd had forensics training. Bailey.

  Movement caught his eye.

  Blond hair in a high ponytail.

  He stood where he was and just watched her for far too long, feeling like a damned asshole. He should go out there and talk to her. Welcome her back, as her boss, at least. But he didn't. Eat cake, drink punch. Any of it. He hid.

  Because he didn't want her there, and they both knew it.

  She had known how he felt about her from the very beginning. He'd made no secret about it. And that had driven a wedge between them. A chasm he regretted, after what had happened to her.

  If she had trusted him more, she could have come to him that morning. He would have done his best to help her deal with what had been bothering her. And something had, but he’d never learned exactly what.

  If they had found Bailey an hour later than they had, she would have been gone. Possibly minutes.

  The doctors had lost her at least once that he knew of on the operating table.

  It had been four months and two weeks since that hell had happened.

  And now...Bailey was back.

  And Clay didn't know what to do about her once again.

  He just stood there and watched her.

  Chapter 2

  Bailey ran her fingers over the battered wood of the desk stationed far away from almost everything else. It was the desk she'd been assigned on her first day with the Value TSP. Sheriff Addy hadn't wanted her there then. She'd at first thought it was because he was a sexist pig. But he just hadn't wanted her around specifically.

  He was perfectly fine with other female TSP deputies who filtered through the area ever
y so often. Bailey hadn’t ever understood why.

  Unless it was a sins-of-the-father kind of thing. There were a few in the TSP who remembered her father and what he had been a part of. Some held him against her, even though she’d been only four when he’d been arrested.

  She had spent most of the last four months attempting to figure Clayton Addy out.

  Bailey was no closer to having the answers to him now than she had been when she'd first opened her eyes to see him sitting by her hospital bed—scowling at her.

  She wouldn't lie to herself; it had been one of the hardest things she had ever done, coming back here. Since the attack and abduction had happened, she'd done her best to avoid Value as much as she possibly could. Finley Creek was so much better...so less difficult for her.

  Her physicians had been at Finley Creek General Hospital. The therapy sessions she'd attended at Women for Hope After Violence had been right across the street. She'd considered leaving Value and everything about it behind her forever and finding a small place in the much larger city forty miles away.

  Bailey had a job with the larger TSP post in Finley Creek anytime she wanted it. The chief himself had guaranteed it.

  Value was all she had ever known. And leaving would make it feel so...unfinished. As if she’d given up.

  She was tired of feeling unfinished. Of everything just stopping abruptly and being abandoned.

  She'd felt that way since she was four years old and her father had been arrested for police corruption.

  That hadn't changed much in the twenty-one years since.

  Her desk wobbled dangerously when she dropped her bag on top of it. She looked down. She'd been using a thin, fifty-year-old romance novel to prop it up. Before.

  Someone had removed it and shifted her desk four feet to the left.

  Farther away from the other three.

  Separated again.

  She somehow doubted it was Jeremy, her closest friend on the small eight-person force, who had done it. It was probably the sheriff. He wanted no traces of her left anywhere in the post. She'd learned that early on when she'd made the mistake of bringing a small plant into the bullpen.

  He'd made it disappear within a week.

  She shot a glare toward his office. Bailey had no doubt he was in there. Probably watching her through the blinds on his door. She had no illusions where Clayton Barratt Addy was concerned.

  The man despised her.

  He thought she was weak and helpless and useless and not worth his precious time. Half the time she thought he resented the very air she breathed. He definitely wasn’t going to greet her with open arms.

  What in the heck was she doing here again?