The Sheriff's Secret Read online

  Tina’s eyebrows relented their angry stance. “Me?”

  “Yes. Can you tell me if anything other than Lily is missing? A favorite blanket or doll. A diaper bag. Anything like that. Is there anything that should be here right now but isn’t?”

  “Everything,” she cried. “It’s all gone, as if he tried to erase her from existence. He even stripped the bedding from her crib. He took her toys. The spare outfits. Anything Mary kept in reserve for her is gone. All he left was this bear.” Her voice cracked, but she handed the animal over.

  West turned the plush toy around. The bear’s tiny T-shirt had bright golden letters that formed the word Thomas. “Thomas was your husband’s name.”

  She chewed her bottom lip roughly, never taking her eyes off the small brown bear.

  West considered the newest disturbing fact. The one who stole her daughter had left the bear named after Lily’s father. West was no profiler, but it seemed to him the person responsible for this probably planned to replace Lily’s father completely. No need to bring a memory of him along.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked in a whisper, pushing herself away from him. “I’m missing something. I can see it in your eyes. And don’t you dare hold back. I need all the facts right now, West. Don’t treat me like a stranger.”

  West stretched onto his feet and circled the room’s perimeter, deciding how to approach the conversation. If there was a bright side, he had to lead with that. Tina needed hope more than ever. “I think it’s good that the abductor took all of Lily’s things.” He opened and closed an empty drawer. “He needs all that stuff to take care of her. He wants Lily to have all the things she needs and loves.”

  Tina’s face brightened. “He plans to care for her.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That would be slightly more comforting if he hadn’t shot a man today. There’s delusion and then there’s downright dangerous.” Her face crumbled. “I don’t want my baby in the hands of a killer.”

  West returned to her and pressed steady hands to her quivering cheeks. “We don’t know who took her. We need to get all the facts before we lose focus. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Outside, the cry of an ambulance broke through the night.

  West dropped his hands. “They’re taking Mary to the hospital. Someone will be in touch when she’s able to answer questions.”

  Tina squared her shoulders, regaining herself. “Mary had a weak pulse, but it was there. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t look for the injury.” She cupped shaky fingers over her lips. “I left her on the floor. I kept looking for Lily. Oh, my gosh. I’m a terrible person.”

  West scoffed, then pulled her against him. “I don’t know a better person than you. No one blames you for leaving Mary. Not the EMTs, not Mary. No one. You were worried for your baby. What else could you do?”

  “Lily’s so tiny,” Tina choked out. “She’s so fragile. If he drops her. Or shakes her.”

  “He won’t,” West interrupted. He held her close and stroked her hair. “We’re going to get her back, and we’re going to find her in the same perfect condition you last saw her in. I swear it.”

  West’s gut fisted at the promise. He meant it, 100 percent, but he couldn’t will it to be true, and if he broke this promise, there was no coming back. He’d lose Tina forever. She’d survived a lot of things, but he didn’t see her recovering from the loss of her child. Everything about her said that Lily was her life raft. The reason Tina had kept her head up through it all, and someone had taken that from her. West couldn’t allow her pain to go on a moment longer than absolutely necessary. He wouldn’t.

  His heart blistered with empathy as a new round of Tina’s sobs broke against his chest.

  What was happening today? In his town? To his...his what? The mental shock jarred him speechless. Tina wasn’t his anything. He tightened his arms around her, hating the truth of the thought.

  Chapter Six

  Tina leaned against West’s side as they descended the farmhouse stairs. Her mind flooded with pictures of her baby crying in a stranger’s arms, frightened as he ripped her from her safe haven. The images were accompanied by horrific scenarios in which Mary had probably tried to save her by escaping through the back door, only to be violently incapacitated after Lily was wrenched from her hands.

  Unlike when Tina had arrived, every light in the house was now on, blinding her sore eyes and illuminating any nook or cranny where the most microscopic piece of evidence might have landed. A smattering of men and woman worked the crime scene inside and out, some deputies, some unknowns, all scouring the immediate area.

  Three men huddled near the porch looked up at them as they passed.

  “Does that jacket say FBI?” she asked.

  “Yes,” West answered.

  She struggled for a look at West’s face. “Why are they here?” Not that she didn’t appreciate the help, but... “Has something else happened?”

  He held her tight against his side until they reached his cruiser, cocked half in the driveway and half on the lawn.

  Tina nearly fell over when he released her in the driveway. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been relying on his strength, in every way, to keep going.

  He turned to face her, hands hovering as if she might tip over. His eyes busily scanned the dismal afternoon crime scene. “Child abductions are often handled by the FBI. My brother Blake is FBI. I’m sure the patrolling deputy reached out to him as soon as he knew Lily was gone.”

  “Blake?”

  “Yeah. He lives in town now with his fiancée, Marissa. Blake’s a damn good agent. Looks like he’s already rallied a few of his team members from Lexington.”

  Tina scanned the blue coats for Blake. He was always so much older. More grown-up. Her eyes landed on a near replica of West talking to a woman on Mary’s porch. He was a little broader than West, with too much hair, but that was definitely him. Her former surrogate big brother was now a federal agent. “I can’t believe he did that. That’s wonderful,” she whispered.

  “We’ve got a good network. We’ll find her, Tina.”

  Tina envied the pride in his voice. She longed for a day when she could feel proud of her family. With a runaway mom and father in prison, she’d be waiting a very long time.

  Blake jogged down the porch steps and cut across Mary’s muddy lawn, now lined with nosy neighbors.

  “West.” He stretched a hand out to his brother. “Tina.” He nodded in her direction, eyebrows crouched between sharp blue eyes. It was much the same look Cole had given her outside her office after the shooting.

  “Got anything?” West asked.

  Blake stared into his brother’s face for several long beats, unable or unwilling to answer.

  A pile of gruesome thoughts clogged Tina’s mind once more, and she curled frozen arms around her middle to keep from falling apart all over again.

  West slid immediately out of his sheriff’s jacket and pulled it over her shoulders. He snaked a broad arm around her waist and dragged her to his chest. “Do you want to sit in the car? I can turn on the heater.”

  Tina’s heart broke at the gesture. To be cared for was wonderful and amazing, but to be so vulnerable was terrifying and nearly intolerable. She pursed her lips and shook her head. What she needed was a way to get in control of her frantic emotions before she went wholly insane from the severity and endless confliction.

  West rubbed the chill from her arms and back with one broad palm. “What?” he prompted Blake, who still hadn’t answered his question.

  Blake walked away, moving slowly toward the back of West’s cruiser. West followed, pulling Tina along beneath his wing.

  Successfully distanced from the other investigators, Blake leaned his backside against the car’s bumper and lowered himself into Tina’s line of sight. “I called in a favor and got
some background information on the two members of your group who were missing during the shooting. Your guy Tucker has a long history of addiction problems and erratic behavior.”

  Tina chewed her bottom lip. She’d never seen that side of him, but survivors were like that. Either they wore the pain around their necks like an albatross, or they hid it so well no one would ever suspect what they’d been through. “That’s not uncommon for someone like Tucker,” she said, snapping into business mode. Law and order might be in the Garrett blood, but advocacy ran hot in hers. “PTSD patients often look for a way to escape the pain. Drugs and alcohol make easy and unfortunate outlets for folks trying not to deal with their past. Why are you bringing this up? Do you think he fits the profile for this, or are you suggesting he’s on a bender?”

  “I’m suggesting he’s got a history of instability. Sharing facts. Nothing more. It’s still early.”

  West released Tina to stand on her own again. “What about Carl Morgan? Find anything on him?”

  Blake raised his heavy brows. “You like him for this?”

  “I don’t like him at all.”

  “He wasn’t surprised to hear Steven was shot,” Tina blurted. “It’s been on my mind, niggling in the background, since we spoke with him.” She’d wanted West to follow the facts, not her paranoia, but it felt good to finally voice the concern.

  “She’s right,” West agreed. “I thought the same thing. I assumed the lack of response could be a side effect of his mental health issues, but he didn’t even pretend to care about the victim.”

  Tina cast a pleading look at West. “I’m not accusing him of anything. I just wanted to put it out there.” Carl didn’t normally talk much. Whether that was because he’s ashamed of the stutter or just hiding his demons, she couldn’t say. Either way, he might not have reacted to Steven’s death because he simply didn’t make a habit of reacting. “Indifference doesn’t mean he’s a murderer. Right?” She slid her gaze from West to Blake. She knew the answer. Indifference could mean many things to a troubled heart and mind. Though, the more she thought about it, she wasn’t sure which specific problems Carl attended her group to resolve. He’d mentioned abuse during his entrance interview, but he’d been stingy with the details. Still was. In group, Carl preferred to be an encourager while others shared, and he watched Tina closely when she spoke. Given the circumstance, she couldn’t help wondering if he might’ve misconstrued her interest in his well-being as personal interest in him. Romantic interest.

  Could Carl Morgan be a stalker? A child abductor? And what about Tucker Bixby? Had she somehow given one of them the wrong idea?

  Blake shifted his weight. “So far we know Carl grew up in Pine Hurst. That’s about ten miles from here, just outside the Cade County lines. He moved to town about sixteen months ago when his mother went to live in the nursing home downtown.”

  West yanked his phone from his pocket. “Pine Hurst’s a pretty good-sized place. They’ve got a police department over there. I may not have cause to petition for psychiatric records, but police reports are public. Let me see if they’ve got him in the system, and if so, why.” He stepped away from Blake and Tina.

  Tina threaded her arms into the too-long sleeves of West’s coat. The material was still warm from his body heat and scented by his cologne and body wash. She zipped the front to cover the chill left in his absence.

  The rain had stayed at bay since the morning’s storm, but wind continued to beat against the trees and everything in sight. Thick gray clouds hung low in the murky afternoon sky.

  Tina lifted her eyes to Blake. “Do you think Carl or Tucker could’ve done this?” She struggled to put the quiet, guarded men she knew into the context of child abductor, someone obsessed with her and possibly also a murderer. Could either man have created silent fantasies about making her dinner or being the father figure in her little family of two?

  She struggled to swallow the acidic burn of bile rising up her throat.

  “Maybe.” Blake watched her carefully, seeming to scrutinize her every breath, as if deciding whether or not she was a suspect in his investigation.

  “What?” she snapped, sounding exactly as impatient as West had minutes before.

  His eyes flicked to West, busily speaking with someone from Pine Hurst on his phone, then back to her. “How long have you and my brother been talking again?”

  She looked at her watch. “About five hours. He came to the office after the shooting.”

  “What about before that?”

  “You probably heard about the time before that.” Her chin inched higher, prepared to defend herself for the inexcusable behavior. She had been wrong not to open up to West about her reasons for leaving back then, but she was also very young and broken. She’d needed more than a boyfriend to heal her pain.

  “You bought a home here,” Blake said. “When did you move back?”

  “About two years ago.” She struggled to remember the exact date, but Blake was clearly looking for more. “A few months after Dad went to jail, I guess.” Her father should’ve gone to jail long ago, but he was making up for it with ten to life now. His drunken outbursts had finally hurt him almost as much as his victim.

  Blake’s eyes jumped again to West. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Shame and guilt plugged her throat. According to police reports, someone half her dad’s age had mouthed off to him at a bar, and her dad couldn’t let it go. He lit into the guy, but age and alcohol had slowed him, and for once his victim wasn’t afraid. When the young guy got the best of him, her dad had hit him with a broken bottle, then stabbed it into his side. The victim lived, but he pressed charges, and somehow every call the police ever made to her childhood home came crashing down on him, sealing her father’s fate with a maximum sentence.

  Tina had come home when her mom stopped answering the phone. She’d worried about the frail woman who’d spent most of Tina’s life hiding in bed, nursing fresh wounds delivered by the hands of her husband. Sadly, without her father to hold her hostage, her mother had fled. Tina had laid down new roots in Shadow Point, praying for her return.

  West pocketed the phone and turned back to Tina and Blake. “Pine Hurst PD is willing to cooperate. They’re searching their database for anything they have on Carl. They’ll get back with me as soon as they have something.”

  Blake nodded. “We’re looking for the pharmacist. He wasn’t home or answering his phone.”

  West widened his stance and crossed his arms. “All right. Anything else?”

  Blake’s eyes were locked on Tina. “West said your husband was in a hunting accident?”

  Tina’s mouth opened, but words failed her. Rehashing the loss of Thomas was more than she could manage, and she felt her mind shutting down.

  Blake dragged his pointed gaze to West. “Shooter used a 30-06 today.”

  Tina slid her eyes closed. A hunting rifle. Like the one that killed Thomas. Her world shifted beneath her. “That was more than a year ago,” she said, fear and panic churning in her soul, cracking her voice and composure in one fell swoop. “What you’re suggesting is impossible. I’m not stupid. I haven’t been stalked for a year.”

  Blake was watching her when she opened her eyes. He didn’t speak.

  Tina covered her mouth, muffling a strangled sob. The ache in her throat spread to her eyes and pounded in her head. It couldn’t be true. Her husband’s death couldn’t have been murder. It was an accident. Wasn’t it? She clenched her fists to stop the tremor rocking through her hands, and willed her legs to hold her upright as the weight of the revelation did its best to knock her down. “Why is this happening?”

  “Garrett?” a distant voice called. Someone in a blue jacket waved one hand overhead.

  Blake walked away.

  “We don’t know,” West said. “This is the part where we run down every scenario. Even the ugly ones.” He gui
ded her to his passenger door and helped her inside. “Let’s get Ducky and head to my place for the night. You can stay there for as long as it takes us to find the person who’s doing this. I guarantee you no one will come near you there.”

  Tina swung her feet inside, and the door shut hard enough to rattle her teeth. He grabbed the bags from the passenger side of her unlocked car and tossed them onto his back seat. She’d never seen West angry before, but he looked fit to kill, and she didn’t doubt his promise of safety for a second.

  * * *

  WEST PULLED INTO Tina’s drive, ready to collect her puppy and get her to safety. The deputy hadn’t had a chance to process and sweep Tina’s home. He was still on Mary’s lawn talking to federal agents. It was just West and Tina now.

  “Listen,” he said, “I’m sorry about Blake. If he made you uncomfortable. I can only guess what he was saying while I was on the phone. If he overstepped, you have my apologies. He’s not thinking like an old friend right now. He’s thinking about nailing the son of a gun who took your baby.”

  “Blake was fine,” she said softly. “He didn’t say anything about our past, if that’s what you mean.” She tugged the cuff of her sleeve, fidgeting with an invisible thread. “I am sorry, though. About the way I ended things.”

  He angled to face her in the warm front seat. “Then why did you?”

  “I loved you,” she said. “That was never the problem. I left because my family was a nightmare, and I thought I was destined to be one, too. You deserved better, and I needed out. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

  West bit back his opinion on the way things should have been. “That was a long time ago,” he managed. “I’ve never held a grudge.”

  “No. You wouldn’t.” She deflated against the back of the seat. “None of this day feels real. It’s like the worst dream ever.”