Chapter Eighteen

Kate had no idea what to wear to accompany a U.S. marshal to find someone who’d run away from the Witness Protection Program. Her mother’s instructions on how to dress—clean lines, good fabrics, focus on accessories—didn’t quite cover this situation. So out of habit, Kate reached for her old reliables—a black all-season wool trouser suit from Talbots and a blue silk blouse she’d picked up on sale at Saks Fifth Avenue several years before. She’d often dressed like this when she worked as an executive assistant in an accounting firm in San Antonio, but since arriving in Copper Mill, she’d pushed most of her office outfits to the back of her closet.

She chose a pair of low-heeled black pumps and some simple pearls to complete the outfit, all the while chuckling at herself. What did it matter, really, what she wore, as long as they found Mavis Bixby safe and sound?

Paul had left early that morning for the hospital in Pine Ridge. He was the on-call chaplain for the day. It was the kind of community service he’d rarely been able to perform in San Antonio, and he was enjoying the opportunity to connect with people from all over the county.

Kate dressed quickly, poured some coffee into a travel mug, and grabbed her dress coat and purse on her way out the door. She didn’t want to be late, although she was still uneasy about leaving her car at the quarry. Still, if the marshal thought that small subterfuge was necessary, she would go along with it, albeit reluctantly.

The sky had clouded over once more, so the blessing of spring sunshine would be denied her today. The ridges and hills were a watery purple color, their tops dusted by a misty fog. The television weatherman last night had called for possible thundershowers. Kate hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Driving over the winding roads that led through the hills around Copper Mill could be tricky when the roads were slick with moisture.

Kate took the long way around to the top of Quarry Road rather than cutting through town on Sweetwater Street. By the time she reached the abandoned quarry, she was running late. The company that owned the quarry had long since closed it down, and their one concession to safety had been to erect a six-foot-high chain-link fence around the edges of the property. Copper Mill teenagers had scaled the fence for years now and used the quarry as an illicit hangout. Sheriff Roberts had been patrolling the area more frequently as of late to discourage the teens, but his efforts had met with mixed success.

Kate turned into the gravel lane that led to the quarry. The marshal’s nondescript white car sat near the gate, off to the side. To her surprise, the quarry gate was wide open. She pulled up next to the marshal’s car, and he slid out from the driver’s seat. Kate rolled down her window as he came toward her.

“Good morning, Mrs.Hanlon.” The marshal tipped his felt cowboy hat. He wore dark slacks, a suede blazer, and boots that looked as new as a bright penny. “I’m glad to see you this morning.”

“Thank you, Marshal.” She pointed toward the gate. “I’ve never seen it open before.”

“I thought we’d put your car in there, just as a precaution. We wouldn’t want anyone to see your empty car and be worried about you.”

Kate paused. “Oh. Well, I suppose that makes sense.”

“Why don’t you just drive on through?”

Kate did as he instructed, pulling through the gate and turning off the lane into the shelter of a stand of trees. They would screen her car from view of anyone passing by on the road. She got out, locked the doors, and put the keys in her purse. “All set.”

The marshal had walked through the gate after her and now stood near the edge of the stand of trees.

“Good. Now we’re just waiting for one more person.”

Kate frowned, concerned. This was a new twist. “Someone else is going with us?”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Renee Lambert to accompany us.”

Kate held back the groan that rose in her throat. “Are you sure, Marshal? Renee’s quite . . . well . . . elderly. Do you think she’s up to it?”

The marshal smiled, taking his hat off his head and studying the brim in an ‘Aw shucks’ manner worthy of a native to Copper Mill. “Now, Mrs.Hanlon, I wouldn’t put Mrs.Lambert in jeopardy. She’ll be fine.”

“Do you really think she can help us?”

“I may need her to talk some sense into Mrs.Baxter. Renee’s the only person Mavis confided in while she was here. I’m hoping she’ll still respect Renee’s judgment.”

Kate could see his point, but she wasn’t looking forward to riding all the way to Chattanooga with Renee. Not to mention Kisses.

A crunch of gravel sounded beyond the gate, and the marshal walked toward the approaching car. There was no doubting who it belonged to. The distinctive pink Olds could have had only one owner. Renee maneuvered her car close to Kate’s—alarmingly so—and then climbed out of the low-slung seat, Kisses in tow.

“Oh, Kate.” Renee looked as astonished to see her as Kate had been to learn that Renee was joining them. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Ladies, we’d better get moving if we want to get there and back before suppertime.” He ushered them out through the quarry gate and pulled the chain link shut behind them, sliding the thick metal padlock closed. Kate wondered how he’d gotten the key but supposed he’d used his official connections to get the company’s permission.

In no time Marshal Wright had them in his car and on their way to Chattanooga. Renee had maneuvered herself into the front seat, while Kate settled for the rear. The first part of the ride passed in near silence until Renee found her voice and began to chatter away, offering her opinions far and wide on every subject from the road conditions on the little state highway to what more could be done for the soldiers overseas. In between, she opined on the gossip mill at Betty’s Beauty Parlor, the overdone chuck steak at the Country Diner, and the cemetery-beautification project of the Ladies Auxiliary.

The only thing that kept Kate sane was meeting the marshal’s eyes in the rearview mirror and knowing he shared her frustration, and amusement, with Renee’s pontificating.

Renee’s attention turned for a brief moment to a fussing Kisses, who was accustomed to riding shotgun on a cushion instead of his owner’s lap. Kate took the opportunity to quiz the marshal for more information.

“Did you get some solid information about Mrs.Baxter’s whereabouts?” She hoped the marshal’s calm manner meant he didn’t suspect Mavis was being held against her will.

“A clerk at a convenience store identified her from that credit-card transaction I mentioned. My associates did some more investigating in the area and gave me a possible address.”

“Do you think she’s been in Chattanooga this whole time, all alone?” How frustrating that the older woman had been so near and yet completely lost.

“We had a report that she’s been seen in the company of a disreputable individual. We don’t know for sure if she’s being held against her will.”

“Disreputable? What does that mean?” Renee interjected.

The marshal never took his eyes off the road, but Kate could hear the concern in his voice. “She’s been seen in Chattanooga with a young man in his twenties. He wears a leather jacket and has several piercings and tattoos.”

Kate’s blood ran cold despite the warmth of her dress coat and the car’s heater. “Leather? Are you sure?”

The marshal’s gaze met hers again in the rearview mirror. “Why? Does that mean something to you?”

“A young man of that description was in Copper Mill last year asking questions about Mavis.”

Renee craned her neck around to shoot a disapproving look at Kate. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because I didn’t know that you knew the truth about Mavis and her past.”

“Well, I never saw this character,” Renee snapped. “Are you sure?”

“LuAnne at the diner and Sam Gorman at the Mercantile both talked to him. He was asking questions about Mavis. And he—” She broke off, not wanting to alarm Renee. As maddening as the woman could be, Kate didn’t want to scare her.

“He what, Kate?” the marshal asked, his dark eyes fixed on her.

“He bought a knife from Sam Gorman.”

For once, even Renee was silenced. Kisses snuffled in his sleep and let out a drowsy growl.

“So he’s armed.”

The marshal didn’t look too pleased, at least as far as Kate could tell from what little of his face she could see in the mirror.

“Ladies, we’ll need to be extra careful. It’s going to be very important today that you do exactly as I say. Are we clear on that?”

“Of course,” Kate agreed, relieved at last to have someone to share the burden of worry over Mavis Bixby. This support, this taking charge of the problem, was what she’d hoped to get from Sheriff Roberts. “You’re the law officer.”

Renee gave her assent more begrudgingly. “I suppose. Although I refuse to be left sitting in the car all day, like a child. Or an old person.”

“We just need to be careful,” the marshal reassured them. “As long as you do what I tell you, you’ll be fine.”

Kate’s nerves were humming as loudly as the car’s heater. She vaguely noticed the passing scenery—the sharp ridges, sprawling valleys, and thick green vegetation. Suddenly she was stricken with an intense desire to see Paul. She wished now she’d told him where she was going rather than offering a vague answer about shopping when he’d asked about her plans that morning.

After what seemed hours, Kate finally glimpsed the long ridge of Signal Mountain that circled Chattanooga. She let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Where do we start?” she asked the marshal in a soft voice. In the passenger seat, Renee had fallen into a light sleep along with Kisses. “Will you check in with the local police?”

“I talked to them earlier in the week. They’re as much in the dark as anyone, and finding a wayward woman who’s dropped out of the Witness Protection Program isn’t any higher priority for them than it was for Sheriff Roberts.”

“And the address you have?”

“It’s an apartment in an older section of town, one of those weekly rentals. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find her on the first try.”

Kate hoped it would be that easy. Find Mavis and convince her to come back to Copper Mill or return to Chicago under the marshal’s protection.

The sedan wound through the streets, and Kate caught glimpses of the Tennessee River in the distance as it wove its way through the city. She’d been to Chattanooga several times since moving to Copper Mill, but she’d never seen this seedy part of town where she found herself now.

When they came to a stop at a traffic light, the marshal leaned over and opened the glove compartment. He withdrew a sheaf of papers and glanced through them. Kate could see the familiar MapQuest logo on the pages. Funny that even a U.S. marshal relied on the popular service for directions. She would have thought federal law enforcement would use GPS trackers or something.

“Do you want me to navigate while you drive?” Kate asked, unsure how her question would be received. Directions were always a tricky subject with men.

“That would be great.” He passed the pages over the seat into Kate’s waiting hands.

Relieved that she hadn’t offended him, Kate coached him through a series of turns until they found themselves in an even more run-down neighborhood. The large older homes must have once been quite a sight with their tall columns and carved balustrades, but now they’d been subdivided into apartments. Peeling paint, sagging porches, and boarded-up windows made the houses look like grand dames who had lost their fortunes.

“One last right turn,” Kate said to the marshal.

Renee was still sleeping. Kate hoped she’d keep right on snoring softly until the whole thing was over.

“There. On your right. The second one.”

The marshal guided the sedan to the curb and rolled to a stop. The sad old house was indistinguishable from all the others on the block. Kate couldn’t imagine Mavis Bixby moving from her little home in Copper Mill to a damp room or two in this monstrosity. The thought depressed her.

“Do you want us to wait in the car?” she asked as the marshal reached in the glove compartment again.

This time he pulled out the pistol they’d found in Mavis’ home. The sight of the gun sent a shiver down Kate’s back. Surely it wouldn’t come to that.

“For now, yes. Let me take a look around.”

Kate would much rather have gone with the marshal than sit in the backseat, listening to Renee’s and Kisses’ snores, but she kept her feelings to herself. “Hurry back.”

The marshal smiled and got out of the car. He stuffed the gun into the back waistband of his pants and flipped his blazer over it for concealment. The movement was as natural, and as casual, as if he’d been putting his wallet in his pocket. Kate sent up a fervent prayer that the next mystery she was called on to solve wouldn’t involve firearms. Or knives, for that matter.

The marshal climbed the haphazard steps to the wide porch and let himself in the communal front door. Inside, through the filmy plate glass, Kate could see him checking something on the wall. Probably names on the mailboxes. Then he disappeared from view entirely.

The seconds stretched to minutes, and those minutes seemed like hours. Fortunately, the street was deserted, although Kate kept a watchful eye in both directions. She checked her watch every thirty seconds and listened to Kisses whine in his sleep. She wondered how long she should wait before going after the marshal. What if something unexpected had happened? What if whoever was with Mavis knew they had arrived?

Kate had just made up her mind to go after him when he reappeared. And he wasn’t alone. He held a scruffy young man in front of him, the captive’s wrists bound with a long piece of plastic like Kate had seen riot police use on television. Kate’s heart leaped to her throat. As the two men descended the porch steps and moved toward the car, Kate recognized the younger man. He was even wearing the same leather jacket he’d worn in the photograph she’d found online.

The marshal looked quickly up and down the street and then thrust the young man toward the car. He opened the door to the backseat and motioned for Kate to slide to the far side. She blanched but complied, and then the marshal pushed the young man into the car.

Kate didn’t know what to do. Her eyes flew from the marshal to his prisoner.

“Don’t worry, Kate. He’s not going to do anything to hurt you.”

Now that he was so close, she could see that the young man had a piece of duct tape over his mouth. She looked quickly at the marshal, who half smiled and shrugged, as if to say, “I had to make do with what was available.”

“Do you want me to call the police?” she asked him. “I have my cell phone with me.”

“No. Not yet.”

“Mavis wasn’t there?”

At the mention of the woman’s name, the young man grew wild-eyed and thrashed against his restraints. The marshal reached inside the car and clicked the seat belt around him. “You hurt either of these ladies,” he said, “and I’ll shoot you.”

Kate jumped in surprise at the marshal’s vicious tone, but then she reminded herself that he must speak like that to criminals all the time. She shouldn’t be upset by his tone. In the front seat, Renee stirred and began to come to life.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, rubbing her eyes. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

The marshal reached across the prisoner and offered Kate his gun. She shook her head. “I don’t need it.”

“Hold it on him. That’ll keep him in line.”

Despite his piercings and tattoos, the young man looked terrified, and the mother in Kate suddenly felt sorry for him.

“No, Marshal. We’ll be fine.”

“Have it your way.” He sounded disgruntled, but then perhaps he had a right to be.

He slammed the door and slid into the driver’s seat quickly. Kate saw him withdraw something from his jacket, and then he reached over and opened the glove compartment. Sunlight glinted off the metal blade of a knife as the marshal deposited it and slammed the compartment shut. Kate felt a little better, knowing that the young thug sitting beside her had been disarmed.

In moments they were driving down the street.

“Who’s this?” demanded Renee, craning her neck to see the young man in the backseat next to Kate. “What’s going on here, Marshal?”

“This fellow’s been after Mavis Baxter for a while now.”

“But he doesn’t have her?” Kate cast the young man a wary glance. His eyes implored her for help, but she scooted closer to the door, putting as much space as possible between herself and him. She supposed that criminals were always sorry when they were caught.

“No sign of her in that rat hole of an apartment.” The marshal turned onto a more traveled street. “But that’s not a problem, because our friend here told me where to find her. Just took a little persuading.”

Kate noticed the red marks on the young man’s face, and her ears drummed with tension. Of course the marshal had the situation well in hand, but she’d never expected to be riding in the backseat of a U.S. marshals car with a mob associate. All she’d meant to do was make sure Mavis Bixby was safe and sound.

“We’re not too far from her,” the marshal said, swinging around another corner.

Kate had a vision of the older woman she’d seen in the picture on the Internet bound and gagged much as the young man beside her. That image erased any sympathy she had for him.

Kisses climbed up on Renee’s shoulder and growled over the seat at the stranger. Renee had gone uncharacteristically quiet. Kate could only pray that they would reach their destination quickly and that all this would be over very soon.