Holding the Truth Page 23

  It was a woman with Addy.

  Bailey.

  No.

  Thunder shook overhead, followed by a flash of lightning that illuminated the blond ponytail, confirming his fears. Bailey.

  If she and Addy drove over that bridge, Lou’s daughter would be in just as much danger. What in the hell had he done?

  He had never considered that Bailey would be with Addy. Never.

  Addy never took Bailey out in the field, especially this late.

  Bailey shouldn’t be there with Addy. Not Bailey. Not his Bailey.

  Chapter 85

  The first thing they’d have to do would be to get the roadblocks they’d tossed in the cargo department of the Chevy Tahoe and put them in front of the bridge.

  But to do that from the opposite side they’d have to drive across it themselves. Clay swore. “I wish the county would close this damned bridge.”

  “No kidding. Remember the Rodrigo boy twenty years ago? I was six when he died out here.” Bailey’s voice was tight.

  Clay understood. He’d been sixteen; Tomas Rodrigo had been thirteen and in the same school system. He’d been riding his bike on the bridge on a bright sunny day three days after a massive rain storm.

  They’d found the bike.

  They’d never found Tomas. Speculation was that he’d been washed away when the water had rushed over the sides of the metal bridge.

  The lightning showed the bridge in perfect, split-second detail.

  Clay inched the Tahoe over the wood and metal. The bridge was far more wood than metal. And the metal that was there was old and thin and terrified Bailey every time she had to cross it. “Watch the water for me.”

  “What I can see.”

  “The spotlight is beneath the seat.”

  She grabbed it quickly.

  And shone it into the center of the bridge. “Clay!”

  He hadn’t missed it. He threw the Tahoe into reverse and backed them off of the bridge—just as a loud shrieking sounded—over that even of the storm.

  The bridge started to list to the left.

  “The water’s rising!”

  He heard the panic, the fear.

  Clay floored it, backing the vehicle down the gravel incline that led to the bridge, then turned the Tahoe around. Once he was certain they were far enough away from the bridge, he shoved the Tahoe into park.

  He shoved open his door and ran around the hood.

  She’d already opened her door. “Clay?”

  He didn’t hesitate. Clay pulled her free of her seatbelt and out of the Tahoe.

  “Clay?”

  “Shut up.” He couldn’t stop to put how he felt into words right then. And he didn’t want her to say anything. He just wanted to hold her. “Just shut up for a minute.”

  He scooped her close and wrapped his arms around her.

  Bailey’s arms clung to him just as tightly.

  ***

  Bailey wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His shaking shoulders. Clay kissed her once, then pulled back. Just far enough to rest his forehead against hers.

  If they hadn’t been alone, she never would have held him the way she was. But it had been so close.

  If the bridge had come down on them, it could have trapped them in the Tahoe. They wouldn’t have gotten out. She had no doubt about that.

  Clay had his hand under the long braid that fell down her back. His skin scorched hers, even though her uniform separated his flesh from hers.

  Her heart was finally starting to settle back in her chest.

  It had been so close. She had been able to see the water of Bracker’s Mill coming at them in the spotlight. Normally, the bridge was only about two yards above the water, and was only about thirty feet long. But when it flooded, water would quickly get several feet over the bridge. The creek would swell considerably, covering the entire area between Bracker’s Mill and one end of McGareth Road.

  But McGareth Road Bridge was far better taken care of.

  How he had managed to pull the Chevy Tahoe off the bridge at the last minute astounded her.

  Bracker’s Mill Bridge wasn’t a large bridge. It was at least one hundred fifty years old, on wood stilts barely wider than Bailey’s body. Wooden planks made up the thirty-feet distance between each entrance to the bridge. Wooden planks that their department checked on a monthly basis at the minimum. And the highway department did as well.

  There shouldn’t have been a large hole missing out of the center of that bridge.

  And while the bridge was old, she’d never seen the water actually push it to the side like it was now.

  She looked over her shoulder again, even though Clay protested. Finally, he let her go. They had to get out of the storm.

  Bailey looked at the bridge. “The bridge is going to go!”

  And it did. While they watched it happen, in the dark, with just the spotlight he now held. Three feet of the bridge in the very center just disappeared right behind where the hole had been. Then it was the front that went, directly under where the Tahoe had been.

  “We need to get the roadblocks up on this side. We’ll have to circle up to McGareth Road and cross the creek there. Then double back,” Clay said.

  Thunder cracked overhead. The night wasn’t over yet.

  Chapter 86

  Charlie’s place was closer than Lou’s tenement on Boethe Street. Lou didn’t know how he’d ended up there, but he had. He still hadn’t stopped shaking after what he’d watched almost happen.

  Knowing his baby was about to wash down the damned floodwaters right before his eyes was something Lou would never forget.

  He’d wept when he’d realized she was safe.

  Lou had stayed in the Chrysler until he was certain they wouldn’t see him, and then he’d driven away in the dark. It had taken him ten minutes to hit McGareth Road. Then he was in the clear.

  Except he’d passed Addy’s chief deputy in his patrol vehicle.

  The guy had actually waved at Lou.

  Lou had forced himself to wave back.

  Charlie wasn’t home. Lou used the crowbar in his trunk to pop the door open easily enough. He was there waiting when Charlie’s old red Chevy pulled in.

  Lou didn’t know why he was there.

  He was just glad he’d gotten rid of those damned fingers. And Bailey was safe. His Bailey was safe.

  He refused to let the anger that Clay Addy had kissed her after they’d gotten out of the vehicle make him forget that.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” Charlie demanded the instant he was inside. “Did anyone see you on the road?”

  “Where have you been?”

  “In town.”

  No doubt watching over that girl of his. Lou understood. They had to do what they had to do to protect their daughters. It was what any good father had to do.

  Lou was going to be a good father from now on.

  And he’d make certain that when he finally took care of Addy, Bailey was nowhere near. Never again.

  “Stuff happened.”

  “Like what?”

  “That asshole. Glen. He sent me a box of women’s fingers.” Bile rose in Lou’s throat when he thought about it again. “And I saw him in town. He said...he told me what he’s going to do to her. To my Bailey. I got to stop him. But I got to make certain Bailey’s with Jake Dillon first.”

  “What you need to do is find a new place to lie low. I got an extra thousand, Lou. Take it and leave Finley Creek and Value for a while. You aren’t going to be any good to that girl of yours if you get yourself arrested again.”

  “I’m going to do what I got to do to take care of my girl. I owe her that. I’m her daddy. I’m supposed to fix the world for her. I got a lot of making up to do.”

  Chapter 87

  Celia was unsettled for most of the next day. It was compounded when she was back out at Jake’s. Her mind wasn’t on what she was supposed to be doing—she didn’t know if that was because of her attraction to Jake or be
cause Murdoch had finally called her.

  It had been one of the most awkward calls of her life.

  He looked so much like Cam and Anthony, but he did not have their easygoing personality. He used to. She remembered when he was the biggest jokester and prankster she'd ever met. Reserved, but tricky.

  He used to drive her and Ronnie and Becky crazy.

  She'd have to ask Ronnie why that had changed. Celia feared she knew the answer. It was because of her and what Charlie had done. Cam had let slip that everything had changed that night. That's when her mother started to slip a little bit farther away from reality.

  Her mother wasn't the same woman she had been back then. Not that Celia had expected her to be. But her mother...was almost a shell now.

  Celia remembered her mother as someone who could take care of everything. It was hard for Celia not to feel guilty over that.

  She should have googled her family at least once in the years since she had been missing. They may not have had the internet when she'd first been kidnapped, but in the decades since?

  She should not have hidden from the truth. If she had checked just once, things might've been different for all of them.

  Charlie would've been arrested, she would have been reunited with her family, and what had happened to Kyra and Bailey back in April might not have happened at all.

  If she had found her family years ago, she never would have had her son. How was she supposed to regret the greatest gift she'd ever been given? Celia didn't know. She could never regret her son. But the hurt everyone had else had suffered because of what Charlie had done threatened to overwhelm her—with guilt.

  She shouldn’t have been too afraid of what she would read to have never searched out exactly what had happened to her family. She just hadn’t wanted to read details of how the people she loved had died. She’d spent years imagining it all in her head—if what she’d read had been more horrific than what she’d imagined, it would have destroyed her. She knew herself well enough to understand that.

  Another clap of thunder boomed overhead, and Celia jumped. A masculine chuckle sounded behind her. She turned. Jake was there, leaning heavily on his crutches.

  Watching her.

  There was a worried look in his dark-green eyes.

  "You shouldn't be up on your feet. You're going to push too hard." Celia had his measure.

  He wasn't fooling her; Jake liked to push himself. He had the overachiever personality that almost demanded that he would do just that.

  She bit back the urge to fuss. Celia knew herself well enough to know she liked having someone to fuss over.

  It was one reason she'd stayed with her uncle. She had more than made enough to support herself and her son on her salary. But she had convinced herself that her uncle needed her far more than he actually had.

  He’d welcomed her, encouraged her to move in when she’d found out she was pregnant. For fifteen years Charlie had been all that she had. Then she’d had him and her son for another five. She’d been content. Looking forward to her future, hers and her son’s.

  Her life had been built on a lie. Celia would never forget that. All she could do was hope to find a way to make that future bright for Cameron again. Hopefully, one day she would find a way to make things right with Murdoch again. But for now, the man in front of her had her attention. Not that it was hard to look at Jake. His shoulders looked wider when he was standing. His chest was broad and strong. His hands were steady and sure. And the man drew her in ways she didn’t quite fully understand yet.

  "Seriously, Jake, take it easy. There's no need to rush anything."

  "I think you'll find that I know exactly when to rush things and when not to."

  His words hit their intended mark. His grin was far too wicked for her peace of mind.

  Celia’s cheeks warmed after his innuendo. Jake had flat out told her that he wanted to get to know her better. She knew that was a euphemism for him being attracted to her.

  What she was going to do about it—well, Celia wasn’t exactly good at dealing with confident men like this one.

  The last thing she—or her son—needed right now for her to get involved with another man she really didn't know. Celia didn't exactly have the best track record at seeing through a man's lies after all. "Jake! You can't say those things; not when I'm working."

  "So I can say them when you're not working? Well, you’re not working right now. You’re visiting with a connection of your brother. We’re almost family—kissing cousins. Come here and give me a big kiss.”

  She didn’t feel threatened or overwhelmed or pressured. She just felt happy. It had been months since someone other than her son had been able to make her feel anything close to that emotion.

  Celia laughed.

  Just as the sound of a truck driving by reached them where they stood on the porch. She turned.

  They both watched as the red truck sped down the highway in front of Jake's home. Celia stiffened.

  She’d seen that truck before.

  "That wasn't someone I recognized," Jake said, the teasing humor that had been in his expression just a moment ago disappearing. Suddenly in its place was a warrior of old.

  Instead of the cerebral-scholar type that she'd originally thought him to be.

  Jake carried a gun in a holster on his waist when he wasn’t at home. She knew what it was there for. And after the events of last April, it didn't surprise her one bit.

  "I don't know who that is.” She shivered. Celia stepped closer to him. “I've seen it before. It's been behind me several times in the last few days, too. And I've seen it parked outside the clinic when I'm working there as well. It's even driven down my street. It did last night. While you were there.”

  Jake shifted the crutch in his right hand. It clanked against the porch rail, and then his hand came up and cupped her cheek. Celia looked into his green eyes.

  He was worried—for her.

  "Do you think he's been watching you? Because if so, with what's been going on in town, you need to speak up right now. This is not a time to second-guess yourself. You’re a blond woman, a damned-fine-looking one at that. We’re both smart enough to know that that could be trouble right now."

  Celia nodded. She wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what he was getting at—and she’d thought about that herself. "It scared me, but I tried not to make a big deal out of it. Everything scares me anymore. But...I saw that truck was at the playground at eight o'clock at night. And I had my son with me. And it drove down my street last night. It’s probably a neighbor that I don’t recognize. I don’t know everyone in Value."

  Jake's fingers slipped over to her chin, and he tilted it up. Celia let him. Until she could look into his green eyes. Could see the sincerity there. And a bit of anger, for her. The caring.

  It had been a long time since a man had looked at her just like that.

  Before she knew it, Celia was cuddled up against his broad chest. And was being held by a man she was attracted to for the first time in six years. And she didn’t want to let go.

  Chapter 88

  Charlie just about swallowed his tongue when he drove by the Dillons’ place for the second time and saw the woman in Jake Dillon’s arms.

  That wasn’t Lou Moore’s daughter. Bailey was too tiny of a thing.

  Charlie would recognize that blond hair anywhere, too. He slowed, keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror instead of the road where it belonged. Celia stepped away from the man. Slowly.

  And Jake was holding her cheeks in a way that told Charlie all he needed to know.

  Charlie was going just slow enough to see the look of heat the guy shot at her. Jake Dillon had it bad.

  And it wasn’t for Lou’s daughter.

  That concerned him. Both for Celia, who had been hurt far too much. And because Lou wasn’t going to take the news too well.

  Not that that mattered to Charlie, provided Lou stayed the hell away from Celia.

  Charlie knew his li
ttle girl well. She wouldn’t be there kissing Jake Dillon on his front porch if she didn’t have some extremely strong feelings for the man.

  Charlie knew Jake. Knew him well. He had to admit, he’d always liked the other man. He’d be a good fit for a sweetheart like Celia.

  And he’d be a good father for Cameron.

  As long as Lou didn’t do something stupid to ruin it for her because of some bullshit idea that Lou’s daughter was made for Jake Dillon.

  Charlie was going to have to find a way to rein Lou in. Let Jake and Celia take things naturally between them. Jake wasn’t interested in Lou’s girl. If he was, they’d already be together.

  Charlie wouldn’t have seen her with the sheriff through the front window of the TSP if little Bailey had been involved with Jake.

  Bailey and Clay Addy were heating things up between them on their own. It was obviously what that girl wanted. Lou’s daughter didn’t seem the type to mess around on the man in her life. Not that girl.

  Bailey had always been a real sweetheart. Charlie regretted what he’d let happen to her each and every day. He wished there was a way to make it up to her.

  Charlie wasn’t going to let Lou screw things up for either Celia or Bailey.

  But he was going to have figure out a way to get through to Lou. Before the idiot actually hurt somebody.

  Chapter 89

  Clay walked next to Bailey as they headed into the forensics lab at Finley Creek. The supervisor of the lab had called Bailey personally and invited her to come take a look at the forensics results.

  No doubt because that supervisor and that jerk Marshall were convinced Bailey was going to transfer up there.

  Everyone greeted her like she’d never left. He’d noticed the same thing when they’d been there before. Bailey would be welcomed here. The lab was state-of-the-art, air-conditioned, and modern. Sleek.

  Bailey looked hot, tired, and sweaty already. She belonged in a place like this. She wouldn’t have to leave the lab at all. Never step foot into the field.