Holding the Truth Page 25
But Veri knew. He’d tried to get her to talk, but she wasn’t giving him what he wanted.
He’d asked her about the past. About a case they’d worked when she’d been all of twenty-something years old. How was she supposed to remember something like that?
Veri tended to not let herself think about the details of some of the things that had come through the TSP. Everyone in law enforcement coped in their own ways.
She had told Bert she’d send him an email with everything she remembered.
He’d told her not to. That she should just write what she remembered down on paper, not sign it, and give it to Bailey.
Only Bailey.
That man was seriously up to something.
She remembered the old days, corny as that sounded. Bert was up to something.
Veri stopped off at the bar to grab some dinner. It was owned by a childhood friend of hers, and while Veri didn’t much care for alcohol, the food was the best she could find in Value in the direction she was headed.
She had come to a realization. One she didn’t much like to think about.
If she was going to be a part of Bailey’s life—and Veri damned well was—then Bert was going to be around sometime, too.
Veri was just going to have to deal with him.
Chapter 92
She was older than Glen liked, but still had that sweet innocence about her. Naivete.
After the last woman he’d had the misfortune to date, Glen needed wholesome again. Now that the scratches on his face had healed.
She was close to the same age he was, with reddish-blond hair with only a hint of gray. Normally, he didn’t choose redheads, but she had a smile that reminded him of someone from long ago. She was prettier than many of the women he’d dated, even at her age.
His heart rate increased.
Glen sidled up to her side.
There was just something in the woman’s expression that told him she needed a friend in that moment.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“No, thanks, I don’t actually drink the stuff. I’ve seen too much bad come out of it.” There was a sadness in her—one that Glen half recognized in himself.
“I’m Glen,” He took the seat across from her. “Can I at least buy you some nachos?”
She looked up at him, shaking her head slightly. “Thanks for the offer. But I have to get going. Work in the morning. And it’s been a tough week.”
Glen studied her. She was clean; her nails were polished, but it was clear. Natural. She had on some makeup, but it was light, almost natural looking. If he hadn’t seen the wrinkles next to her eyes, he would have thought she was younger than he suspected she was. This woman had that look that would make her age timelessly. Much like Glen did himself. Her teeth were good, showed signs of proper nutrition. This woman took care of herself. He liked that. A great deal. And her hands were beautiful. Unlike the last woman he’d touched. “At least tell me your name—and whether I’ll be lucky enough to see you around here again?”
“I...look. I appreciate the interest and the offer, but I’m just going to head home. I’m not the woman you’re looking for. Have a good night.”
The redhead stood. Glen bit back the anger. He hated to be rejected. He looked around. People weren’t watching, at least. He wouldn’t have liked that at all.
He started to block her path when someone came up behind her. “Veri!”
Glen didn’t miss the relief in her eyes when she turned to the younger man.
“Hey, Jeff.”
“You leaving? I’ll walk you out.”
Glen turned, quick. The guy was the size of a small bull—and the green of his TSP uniform was unmistakable.
“Thanks. I’d appreciate it. I’m on again first thing in the morning. I need to get some rest.”
“Yeah. It’s been a tough one. Even tougher on Bailey and Clay.”
Glen quietly stepped away. The TSP connection was unmistakable.
He saw her again when he was in the parking lot.
She was in the car that drove right in front of him.
The TSP deputy who’d walked her out was standing next to truck, talking away with two other men nearby.
Glen took her as the gift she was; he followed.
When she stopped at a gas station and ran in, he slipped from his truck and drove his knife deep into her rear tires.
Foolish to even consider dating a woman connected to law enforcement, but Glen had never taken rejection well. And he knew it.
Then Glen slid behind the wheel of his truck and waited.
Chapter 93
Veri knew something was wrong ten minutes after she left the gas station. She’d stopped in there to buy some soda and something to microwave in the morning. She hadn’t had time to hit the grocery store yet. And she never had been into the stereotypical doughnuts that somehow always ended up in the break room.
Thunder cracked overhead. Veri shivered. She wasn’t a storm wimp, but she hated driving in it at night. And she was forty-five minutes from her home.
Veri had learned a long time ago to depend on herself. And to put on her big-girl panties and just deal.
When her car started shaking in that familiar pattern that told her she should have gotten her tires replaced months ago, Veri bit back the instinctive rush of panic.
It was wet, dark, storming, and her tire was most likely flat. And she was all alone.
No. She wasn’t stupid.
Veri pulled off the road in the first safe space she could find. It was the road to the old McGareth place. If she was stuck out there too long, she’d just hoof it to shelter. That little Lacy Deane may have even rented the place out by now. There could be people there.
But the first thing she needed to do was call someone and let them know where she was.
She thought about calling Jeff, but he was more than twice as far away by now no doubt. And on the clock.
She didn’t want to divert one of her boys when they were needed on the roads. She knew how strapped her county was.
She dialed Bailey. The girl would be off work by now—and the closest to where she was. The Dillon place was not that far away as the crow flies.
She’d spoken with Bailey herself at almost nine thirty, telling the girl to go home. What she and Clay were working on could wait a bit. The girl needed to rest. Clay had agreed, then argued with Bailey and sent her home, promising to go himself.
Her girl hadn’t liked it, but Bailey had gone.
She was just going to tell Bailey what had happened and where she was.
Veri had worked law enforcement long enough not to be stupid with her own safety. Anything could happen to a woman alone alongside an empty highway this late at night.
And there was a killer out there. Veri bit back the panic again. Panicking had never gotten her anywhere before.
Bailey answered on the first ring.
Chapter 94
Bert knew when the girl grabbed her keys that she was going out into the storm. She wasn’t in her uniform, so it wasn’t on the clock. She’d only been home about ninety minutes, damn it. Bailey didn’t need to be going anywhere.
“What’s happened?” Bert asked as the house shook from thunder overhead.
“Veri’s had a flat tire. She’s out on McGareth Road fifteen miles from here. I’m going to go help her change it.”
“Like hell you are.” Thunder rumbled again. Bert checked the clock quickly. It was close to damned midnight. They had a killer out there. He wasn’t letting Bailey go anywhere alone—but he wasn’t leaving Veri out there, either. “I’ll leave a note for Jake.”
“Bert...do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Veri will just have to get over it.” Bert wouldn’t stand for that kind of stupidity. But he wasn’t about to have those two women out there in this damned storm alone.
Or out there with a killer on the loose.
Five minutes later he had the engine running and Bailey was climbing
in, phone pressed to her ear. No doubt she was talking to Veri.
Something had his eye twitching. Something in the air. It didn’t feel right.
“Where did she say she is?”
“Near mile marker twenty-seven. McGareth Farm Road, just off of 237.”
“You keep her on the line, honey. And tell her she is not to step foot out of that car until I get her myself. Whether she likes it or not.”
It was a long fifteen minutes—Bert didn’t doubt he was driving a bit too fast—until they pulled onto McGareth Road and crossed the little bridge that ran over a tiny tributary of Bracker’s Mill Creek.
“A few more miles,” Bert said. “Damned woman. Why does she live way out here? She’d be better off in town.”
“Why do the two of you not get along? She’s always so tense when your name comes up.”
Bert bit back a curse. He didn’t like to swear in front of his kids. “Veri and I were friends way back. Before I was arrested. Things...went...I had to make some hard decisions back then, Bailey-girl. Choices that were the right ones to make, but ones that cost more than I realized at the time.”
“You mean with the TSP.”
“Yes.”
“Did you do it, Bert? What they said?”
He hesitated. Two years ago, he’d have vehemently denied it. But now? Now he just didn’t know.
“Did I do what I was convicted of, honey? No. I didn’t. And that’s got to stay just between us.”
“Why? Do Jake and Kyra know?”
He’d never talked about the details with his kids. And he wasn’t about to start. There would be time for that someday. After.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Elliot Marshall asked me not to mention a word. And I’m going to ask you to keep it between us. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t know you already knew about Marshall’s task force.”
“You’re a part of it.”
“Let’s just say that Elliot Marshall knows how to use the resources at hand. But that’s between us, baby. I won’t be much good to him if people suspect I was framed all those years ago.”
“Were you?”
“Yes. And the judge was in on it. He would have targeted Veri if I hadn’t talked as fast as I did back then. But she never knew what happened. And she’s not going to. No sense in it now. It would just upset her and bring up far too much that needs to stay buried.”
“But the two of you...”
“Some people are just meant to rub each other the wrong way, Bailey. And I make her nervous. I always have.” And he always would. But there were personal parts of their history he would never share with anyone.
He’d wanted to tell Veri what had happened, but they’d ended up in bed together.
Veri had never forgiven him for that. Probably more than him betraying her the first time. That had been on the job, but what had happened between them in that bed had been as personal as it could be.
He fought the tension in his gut, knowing she was out there on a damned dark road at night. Alone.
Waiting for him.
Just like it had been between them before.
Chapter 95
Glen followed her, making certain there was plenty of room between them. His body had tightened in anticipation at what he was going to do with the pretty strawberry blond. Maybe she was older than his last few dates, but hell, Glen was older now, too.
A woman of a certain year, who cared enough to take care of herself the way this one probably had, was going to be a nice change for him.
A palate cleanser, perhaps.
And she would learn not to reject a man like him again.
That’s what had happened the first time he’d been serious about a woman. She’d been five years younger than he was, and just not ready for a relationship. Or so she’d said.
They’d argued, in the kitchen of his home, after he’d driven her there once his shift at his job had ended.
Things had changed for him that night.
He waited. It would just take him being patient. He had always been a patient man.
He didn’t have a gun with him. He wasn’t stupid enough to risk a weapons violation so soon after gaining his freedom, so he’d have to wait until the woman got out of her car.
No skin off his teeth. He’d waited on dates before.
Women liked to keep a man waiting, after all.
Glen turned his lights off several miles behind her. He liked the challenge and adrenaline rush it gave him. And it was easy enough to follow her lights, even in the storm.
He hadn’t had much excitement in his life in eight years, except a few dates or so.
The woman pulled off the road but left her lights on.
She never got out of the car.
Glen just waited.
And waited. She couldn’t stay there forever. Eventually people became impatient. Made stupid mistakes.
Until a large farm truck rolled by. With more than one person inside.
His odds had just changed considerably. And not in a good way.
Glen ducked down, even though he doubted they could see him in the dark and rain.
He watched as she finally stepped out of her car—only to be greeted by the burly driver of that truck.
Glen wouldn’t want to tangle with that man anytime soon.
An easily recognizable blonde stepped out of the truck next. When she passed in front of the small car’s headlights, Glen confirmed what he’d thought—it was Lou’s daughter, of all people.
And she could arrest his ass, end his friend all right now.
No.
There would be no date for him tonight.
He waited until they were long gone before pulling out. And finally turning his lights on.
Chapter 96
Bailey stared at the rushing water of Bracker’s Mill Creek. It was still four or five feet above its normal surface level, but it was receding. The bridge leaned against the rocky shore beneath.
It was bent and crumpled like aluminum foil. She and Clay had been very lucky.
The state inspector approached and identified himself. Bailey was in uniform. Clay had been called to the southwestern corner of the county again, to help with a possible drug bust—again—but would be meeting her there when he could.
“Tell us what happened,” the inspector ordered. “What were you doing out here that night?”
She didn’t miss the suspicion on the older man’s face. He’d taken one look at her badge and his face had drawn up. “There really isn’t much to tell. We’d gotten a call that the creek was rising. With all the rain we’ve had, we wanted to be cautious. We grabbed the roadblocks from the garage on First Street. It was around midnight then. Our plan was to close the western end first, then the eastern, before heading back to town.”
She walked to the end of the road, where the bridge had once started. The inspector followed her. “We pulled out onto the bridge about ten feet or so. Enough to get our entire vehicle on the boards. I had the spotlight pointed at the water and I panned it over the bridge to ensure we didn’t have wildlife on it again. We’ve had that happen before.”
The investigator stared at her, until Bailey wanted to squirm. “You’re Moore’s daughter.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry about what happened to you. I was there when he was arrested. I wasn’t certain it was you at first.”
“It’s me. We turned the spotlight on the bridge.” Sweat slicked her palms, but she wasn’t going to look weak in front of this man. She had no clue where he was going with this.
“Glad to see you’re back on the job. What happened in April shouldn’t have.” He stared at her for another moment. “So you and the sheriff were about ten feet in the bridge.”
“We saw the hole. Just as the water started rising. Clay—the sheriff—pulled the Tahoe back, and clear of the bridge. Then it collapsed. The front portion—where we’d been located—went first. Then toward the middle.�
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The far end of the bridge was still intact.
“You were lucky.”
“I know. If we hadn’t had the spotlight, we would have driven into that hole.” Bailey looked at the remains of the bridge. “What I want to know is how it happened to begin with.”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.” The inspector pulled his hat down over his head against the August heat. “Because we have evidence a damned saw was used on some of the support beams. We’ll have to wait until the water goes the rest of the way down before we can get to it.”
Bailey turned to the bridge again. Nothing he’d said had made any sense. She stepped closer.
“Careful. No one’s going down there until the floods recede. Evidence will keep at this point.”
She nodded. “Someone cut through the bridge. The hole was deliberate?”
“Most likely. I’ll know more later, of course.”
“Any idea why someone would do that?”
“My guess? Kids being assholes, not knowing what could happen or some wack job trying to make some obscure political statement that only him and the aliens telling him to do it will ever understand. I’m just glad no one was hurt.”
Bailey just nodded. “Anything you find, can you send to the Value TSP? I’m sure the sheriff will want to know all about it. Will this be our jurisdiction?”
“State. Rangers have already been called.”
She shot one more look at where she and Clay had been. Their tire impressions were still in the wet clay.
She followed them back a good two hundred feet.
It was then that she saw the second set, still in the wet mud. Bailey turned toward the inspector, who stood watching her. “There are clear tire impressions here. Finley Creek TSP’s got the best forensics team in the area now. You might give them a call.”
“Thanks. We’ve got things handled from here.”