Читать книгу Truth And Consequences - Lenora Worth - Страница 11

TWO

David leaned against the back of the old Crown Victoria and waited for Officer Godwin and her K9 partner, Hunter, to return. The ambulance had left, and two other patrol cars were now leaving. The impatient passengers who wanted to continue their journeys were waiting inside the quaint little train station while the K9 officers inspected their luggage piled up outside. As far as he knew, none of them had witnessed the event or the two men leaving the train. Suitcase by suitcase, their luggage was cleared so they could board.

Maybe he should do that, too. He could keep drifting, forget his troubles and...try to find a normal life again.

But he wasn’t about to go anywhere until he knew Whitney was safe. Which was stupid, really. She was the one with a gun and a trained canine partner. She could certainly take care of herself, based on what Lucas had told him and based on what he’d seen here today. She might look like a cheerleader, but she was all business on the job.

According to Lucas, Whitney was stubborn and hugely independent. When they’d first met, Lucas had proudly explained that after a couple of years as a beat cop back in Tucson, Whitney had been accepted as part of a training program for K9 officers based here in Desert Valley. But he’d had concerns about the whole thing since he knew the work could be grueling and dangerous. They’d argued before he deployed, but after admitting that no one had stopped him from following his own path, Lucas had finally emailed Whitney and apologized, only to learn that she’d had to drop out of the program. David had no doubt that Lucas loved his sister.

“She had some trouble, but she’s gonna try again next spring,” Lucas had stated a few days before he’d been wounded. “That’s Whitney. She never gives up.”

Lucas had died a week later. That had been last summer.

It had taken David months to get here. After finishing his deployment and returning stateside, he’d fought against this quest. He hadn’t even been home to Texas yet, mainly because there wasn’t much left there for him. Now that he was here, he was pretty sure Whitney would be shocked and surprised that he’d followed through on a deathbed promise to her brother.

And yet he couldn’t leave her. He kept watching the shadows of her long ponytail, the silhouette of her moving through the train for one last search. He’d watched in amazement earlier as the sleek, powerful dog—a pointer, she’d told him—did just that, pointed near the seats where those two men had been. Hunter had stopped with his nose in the air, his tail lifted in statue-like stillness. Then he’d become agitated and aggressive, growling low while he pawed the floor by the seats.

After Whitney had encouraged Hunter to “Go find,” the big dog had sniffed and pawed. They’d found a package wrapped to look like a gift box that had slid under the seat when the bag had torn open. Obviously the two couriers hadn’t seen it when they’d dropped part of the duffel’s contents. But the lone package they’d left behind would create a lot more than birthday-party memories. Heroin. With a street value of hundreds of thousands of dollars per kilo, according to what he’d heard Whitney and some of the others discussing.

Hunter sniffed out a couple more spots, two sleeping car closets and two bathrooms. David heard Whitney telling one of the officers that drugs had obviously been transported in those areas, too, since he’d alerted on both.

“No telling how long they’ve been using this route,” she’d said to an older, distinguished-looking man she’d addressed as Chief Jones. “We’ll have to study the video cameras and the passenger manifest, too. Maybe pick up an image or establish a pattern.”

Now David looked up to find her walking toward him with another K9 officer she’d introduced as Ellen Foxcroft, a native of Desert Valley, and her K9 partner, Carly, a golden retriever specializing in tracking.

“Thanks,” Whitney said to her friend after they stopped by Ellen’s vehicle. “So we know based on Carly’s alert and Hawk’s detection of that dusty shoe print that they got into a vehicle here in the lot, as our witness reported.”

Ellen listened to Whitney and then glanced over at David and nodded. “And based on the partial plate your witness here was able to remember, we might be able to find that vehicle soon.” She nodded to David and then opened the door to her vehicle to let Carly inside the back. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Whitney. We’ll compare notes.”

Whitney agreed and then turned to give David a dark scowl, her blue eyes flashing aggravation. Aside from the frown on her pretty face, she looked kind of cute in her uniform. She was buff but she was also dainty, like a fragile flower. Only she was way too fierce to be a flower. One tough female. David’s heart beat an extra thump at the danger she had to put herself through in order to do her job.

Same as her brother.

“Why are you still here?” she asked, suspicion lacing the question. “We’ve cleared the scene, and I have to file an official report. I have your contact information. You’re free to go until we call you in to look at mug shots.”

“I’m waiting on you,” he said, thinking if he told her he’d stayed behind to keep an eye on her, she’d laugh in his face. David didn’t think right now would be a good time to explain that her late brother had sent him here.

“You really don’t need to worry about me,” she retorted. Glancing back at the train and then at her alert partner, she said, “We didn’t find anything else during that last sweep. But we dusted for prints on the seats where we found the one package, and we found some shoe prints, so maybe those clues will turn something up.”

David waited while she gave Hunter water and food from two tin buckets she had clipped inside his wire kennel in her police car.

“You did a good job, Hunter,” she mumbled in a sweet voice that tickled at David’s senses like butterfly wings. “Such a good boy.”

Hunter gave her a grateful stare and started gnawing on a rope throw that David guessed was his chew treat after each find. David gave her an appraising glance and realized how tough she was underneath that porcelain doll skin and sunshine-blond hair.

Satisfied, she turned to David. “Where are you headed?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I’m on some R & R right now, meandering around the West, taking in the sights. Maybe volunteering to help here and there. Thought I’d find a place nearby for the night.”

So I can stay near you for a while.

Her suspicions hit like sunspots all around him. “There’s a bed-and-breakfast in town. The Desert Rose, right off Desert Valley Drive. You might find a room there. Just until you decide which way you want to go.”

Then she gave him a no-nonsense stare. “Of course, you need to stick around anyway in case you can help us identify those two. I’ll talk to the chief and see if we need to call you in to the station tomorrow.”

He nodded, taking advantage of the intro. “Why not now? I can go to the station tonight since I’m in no hurry.”

She checked her watch. “We’ve put out a bulletin on any dark SUVs matching your description, but drug couriers are notorious for switching up vehicles or changing license plates. Look, it’s late, and I have to be somewhere. First thing tomorrow, okay? But if you remember anything before then, here’s my card.”

In spite of everything that had happened, David was almost glad he had a legitimate excuse to stay in town. He pocketed her business card, also grateful for the contact number.

“I did some searches online when I decided to take this trip. I found some information about the Desert Valley Clinic. One article mentioned the need for more funding and more doctors. They use volunteer doctors, physician’s assistants, and nurses for the free services they offer.” He’d have to sign a waiver to get a temporary license to practice at free clinics in the state. “Thought I might volunteer there while I’m here. Don’t want to get rusty.”

“And exactly why are you here when you could be anywhere in the world right now?” she asked, her eyes scanning the train again before she whipped her gaze back to him. “Because I’ve never heard of anyone wanting to spend downtime in Desert Valley or wanting to volunteer to work with Dr. Pennington.”

David braced himself and stored up her pointed notations for future reference. He’d have to be careful with this one. Whitney would keep digging until she had him figured out. “Well—”

But Whitney Godwin was no longer listening to him. She held up her finger and then, giving Hunter a silent command, drew her weapon and took off in a crouched run toward the empty train.

* * *

A man scurried toward the train like a lizard, his head down and his back hunched. He wore a burgundy hat and dark shades.

Whitney spotted him when she glanced back while talking with David. She’d have to figure out the medic’s angle and his story later. Right now, she intended to nab two criminals. With her gun drawn and Hunter waiting for her command as he trailed along, she hurried around the stopped train and looked up and down the tracks.

Nothing. No one. Had she only imagined seeing someone? No, she’d seen the man, and his description had fit the one David Evans and Mr. Gallagher had given her. She hadn’t slept much last night, but she wasn’t imagining things. Fatigue weighed on her like a blanket of dry heat, but she kept her cool and went on with doing her job. Being a rookie meant she always had to go the extra mile. Being a female police officer meant she had to work twice as hard as the men around her.

She checked the front of the stopped train again and then walked by the narrow openings between the four small passenger cars, and headed to the car where she and Hunter had found a kilo of heroin earlier.

“C’mon, Hunter,” she commanded. Hunter went in ahead of her, doing his job with practiced excitement. He sniffed and moved on, sniffed again, dug around some and then kept up the search.

Could one of these men have come back for the package they’d dropped? Or did they have more stashed elsewhere?

Thinking it was mighty bold of this one to creep back so soon after they’d taken off earlier, Whitney glanced around. They’d allowed the few passengers traveling west to get back on, but some of the passenger cars were still empty.

Easy for someone to slip in and hide.

Whitney moved behind Hunter up the aisle, careful to search every compartment and seat. When they didn’t find anything, she shook her head and wiped at the sweat dripping down her brow. It would be so nice to get home and have a long shower. But she had reports to file and other obligations to consider.

And one very good-looking medic hanging around for no good reason. Her suspicions regarding David Evans increased by the minute. His excuse for being here didn’t make sense to her practical way of thinking. And yet he’d put his own life on the line to help the injured attendant, and he’d cooperated fully with the police. He’d answered her questions without hesitation.

Maybe she was too tired to have any clear thoughts right now.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said to Hunter, her gut telling her the criminal was still lurking somewhere near the train.

They exited the train and she did one last sweep, checking between the sleek cars, looking underneath, turning toward the scraggly woods.

Then Hunter let out a guttural growl and stood staring at a spot at the end of the train.

“Go ahead,” Whitney commanded as she drew her gun and hurried down the side of the tracks near a copse of ponderosa pines, dry shrubs and chaparrals. A few spring wildflowers peeked out in bright orange and red, interspersed underneath a scraggly cactus bush, but she was interested only in seeing what Hunter wanted her to see.

Hunter took off, silent but steady, toward the scattered rocks and shrubs.

Whitney followed. When Hunter alerted again, she crouched down near a jutting rock. Too late to call for backup. She’d have to do this on her own. Bracing for action, she whirled out from the rock with her weapon ready only to find a dirty black shirt lying on the ground.

Then Hunter started barking. She heard a click behind her. “Halt the dog and drop the gun.”

Whitney did as he asked. “Stay,” she said to Hunter in a commanding voice, her insides like jelly. Then she slowly laid her gun on the ground, her mind racing. This could go wrong if she lost her cool. Hunter growled low, but he wouldn’t attack without her order.

Could she do this? Could she risk having her K9 partner shot in midair? Hunter was still in training, too. What if he got hurt because of her carelessness?

“Stay,” she told him again, her tone firm in spite of her trembling nerves.

She glanced back and found a handgun pointed at her head by a tall bearded man wearing a black baseball cap and dark shades. But this wasn’t the man she’d seen running beside the train. That man had been wearing the dark red baseball cap and had shorter hair. Which meant he was probably moving through the train car, looking for any lost packages of heroin. They’d set a trap.

“What do you want?” she asked the man who held his gun pointed at her.

“Keep telling the dog to heel,” he whispered in a rasp that burned her neck.

Hunter stood growling, ready to attack.

“Stay,” Whitney commanded, her pulse pumping adrenaline through her body. “Stay.”

Hunter didn’t move, but the big dog’s whole body shook with aggression, his bared teeth visible.

“One move from you, lady, and that dog and you both die.” He twisted her around and jerked her arm with a brutal grasp, his rancid breath hissing against her ear.

“I’m not a lady,” she retorted. “I’m a police officer.”

The stench of his sweat assaulted her. Sweat and fear. “And a nosy one,” he replied on a huff of air. “Shoulda kept going.”

He pushed her deeper into the sparse, dry landscape, kicking up dust that made her want to cough. Whitney glanced around, her breath settling. No one had noticed them on the far side of the big train car, and now the train would soon be leaving the station. She wouldn’t let this criminal get to her, but she wasn’t going to die here, either. She’d get out of this. Somehow.

She’d acted too hastily and made a rookie mistake. She hadn’t been careful, and she hadn’t called for backup. Hunter would do her bidding, but she had to find the right moment. She’d like to blame her lack of attention to detail on the mysterious medic who’d appeared here and stayed with her. But Whitney wasn’t one for pushing off blame on others. This was her mistake.

The man kicked her gun behind him, then shoved her into a cluster of pines and rock. Praying that someone would see what was happening, Whitney kept thinking ahead. He could be bringing her out here for only one reason.

Trying to memorize all the details around her, she took a deep breath. Black Hat had a tattoo on his lower arm. Some sort of intricate symbol. An arrow and three hanging feathers with what looked like a face in the arrow. Could it be the same symbol David Evans had mentioned seeing over the license plate of the SUV?

“So what’s your plan?” she asked in a matter-of-fact tone that belied the tremors running through her body. “Where’s your buddy?”

“Shut up so I can think,” he said into her ear. “We got surprised today, so I have to clean up this mess before the boss finds out.”

“Who’s your boss? If you agree to cooperate, we might be able to help you out. Think about it. Your boss won’t help you.”

His voice shook. “Right. I’m not buying that, so shut up.”

Whitney could take advantage of his nervous energy.

She prayed for calm and clarity. She’d been one of the best in her class when she’d returned to training this year, so she centered her thoughts on what she’d been taught. Determined to stay alive, she concentrated on her sweet five-month-old baby girl, Shelby. The baby she’d fought so hard to have. Alone. The baby her brother had never heard about because he’d died before she’d found the courage to tell him.

Whitney would regret for the rest of her life that Lucas would never know his niece. But she would fight for her child’s sake, too.

She was at her best when she was cornered and alone.

The man shoved her toward the tumbleweeds and scrub brush that surrounded the scant trees and jutting rocks. “Let’s get this done and over.”

The train now hissed like a big snake. He was waiting for the train to leave. It would serve as a cover when he shot her. So that meant his friend must have made it off the train without detection.

Adrenaline pumped a new energy through Whitney’s system. She had to act fast or she’d never see Shelby again.

She went limp so she could use her body to get away from the man holding her. It worked. Her body fell against the man, causing his hands to go up and giving her enough time to slip a booted foot behind his left calf and bring him down. But on the way down, she heard a grunt and then felt a blur of air rushing by her head. The next thing she knew, the man who’d been holding her let out a yelp of pain and dropped at her feet, his gun sliding over dry dirt and skidding to a stop a few feet away.

Surprised, she watched in amazement as a now familiar form crashed over the gunman who’d been about to shoot her and held him pinned to the ground.