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Adelaide was gone.
It had only been a few days since the research team had conducted their study. They still hadn’t presented the results or provided any evidence, but Callie could feel it. The house had gone dormant. There were still creaky floorboards and drafts from uncaulked windows, but there hadn’t been any squeaks from the rocking chair in the attic. The cold spots were gone, as was the sensation of being watched. Even the furnace had been acting better.
Still, she was surprised when she looked in the mirror. She hadn’t realized how much the stress had affected her, but the dark circles under her eyes were gone and she felt lighter. Her creativity and good humor had returned. She was pumping out good columns faster than ever, and the research she was doing for her planned book on Adelaide was fascinating.
This. This was the life she’d dreamed of when she’d moved across the state—only better.
She pulled Carter’s old T-shirt over her head and let it slide down her body. She reached for her hairbrush, but a spark of static electricity snapped when she pulled it through her hair. “Ah!”
She quickly put the brush down. Okay, so little things could still make her jump. Still, she was happier than she’d been since she’d first moved to Shadow Valley. Adelaide had settled down, and things with Carter were going better than ever.
He was even trying to be nice to David.
Callie looked in the mirror one last time and fluffed her hair. Her stomach fluttered as she left the bathroom and walked down the hallway. The newness of their relationship hadn’t worn off yet. In fact, without Adelaide or cop business pressing on them, it had come to the forefront. They were finally able to concentrate on one another, and she got all jittery inside when bedtime rolled around.
She found Carter sitting on the side of the bed, waiting for her. His feet were bare, and he’d already taken off his shirt. Her mouth went dry. She liked the look of his body, but she liked the feel of him even more. When he looked at her, her knees went a little weak.
“You make that old thing look so damn sexy,” he said.
Her breasts felt heavy under his look. Slowly, she walked toward him. He caught her by the hips and pulled her between his spread legs. She settled her hands on his shoulders and began searching for knots. They were fewer these days, but the one on his shoulder blade was stubborn.
“How did your meeting with the museum guy go?” he asked.
“He was excited to see what Adelaide had left behind.”
“So your mission is complete?”
“I guess.” She’d kept the letters, but the curator had picked up the rest of Adelaide’s things this afternoon. The treasures in that old chest had made the man’s eyes sparkle. He’d gushed about the importance of the find and had thanked her for the donation so many times that it had gotten to the point where it was embarrassing. “I hope she can rest in peace now.”
Carter tilted his head back to look her in the eye. “Why are you so sad? I thought you’d be relieved.”
She started to deny it, but stopped when she realized it was true. It really made no sense. Some of Adelaide’s stunts had terrified her. She knew now that the ghost had just been trying to get her attention, but, back then, she’d been truly scared. Her nerves were still on the ragged side, but she couldn’t deny her feeling of letdown. “I don’t know. I guess the house feels lonely without her. I’m worried if she was able to cross over.”
What if they’d just chased her out of the house? What if she was wandering homeless now or at the cemetery so far up in the hills? Had they done the right things to help her? The message had been so unclear.
“David is sure she’s gone?”
Callie smiled and threaded her fingers through Carter’s hair. It was funny how such a simple question could mean so much. “He walked through the house after the museum curator left. He couldn’t find a trace of her.”
“Good.”
“He’s doing a lot better. I think that finding Dr. Bennett was a godsend for him.”
“I’ll have to hold judgment on that one.” Her breath hitched when Carter slid his hands under the long T-shirt and caressed the backs of her thighs. “I haven’t had to pick the kid up in days, though. I guess that’s something.”
“Hardass,” she said with a light shove to his shoulder.
He fought back with a quick pinch to her bare bottom. The sting made her go right up on her toes, and her fingernails left little half-moon indents in his skin.
He rubbed comforting circles on her backside. “Did you get your column turned in on time?”
His touch wasn’t comforting at all. Heat pooled between her legs, and she spread her fingers wider on his chest. His muscles jumped when she brushed his nipples. “My editor was thrilled when I sent in two.”
“Does that mean you’ll have extra time in the morning?”
She dropped her head back when his touch became infinitely more intimate. “Will you?” she asked breathlessly.
“I’ll make it.”
He slowly parted her and pushed a finger inside. She clutched at his shoulders when he pressed his face between her breasts and nuzzled her. He’d learned just how she liked to be touched, but it was more than that. He’d established his place so firmly in her life; she’d begun to crave his body, his mind, and even his elusive sense of humor.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing, but when he began pumping his finger in and out, she saw a flash of color behind her eyelids. She pushed against his shoulders, and he toppled back onto the mattress. She crawled right on top of him. Straddling him, she worked the T-shirt up her body and over her head. He caught her hips tightly as she let it fall onto the floor atop his shoes.
“It’s been a while since you gave me a ticket,” she said as she began to rock against the bulge behind the zipper of his jeans.
“You haven’t done anything illegal.”
“Can we change that?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He rolled her onto her back and swept his hand up her body to her breast. He plumped it up and then his mouth was on her. He dragged his tongue over her nipple, and Callie squirmed on the bed sheets.
“You have the right to remain silent,” he said, “but don’t let that hold you back.”
She laughed softly as she reached for his zipper. His hips swung toward her, and she’d just gotten it halfway down when the phone rang.
“Shit,” he said.
She dropped her head back against the pillow. “Not now.”
He leaned his forehead against her chest as he tried to rein himself in. His breath swept against her nipple, and she bit her lip when it tightened almost painfully.
The phone refused to be ignored.
He grabbed it from the nightstand and nearly broke the screen when he jabbed at it. “Yeah?” he barked.
She watched the change come over him. Whatever the call was about, it was for Chief Landry. She could feel the difference in the tension in his muscles as she ran her hand down his back.
“Are you sure?” he said. “Settle down, now. I can’t understand you.”
He glanced her way, and she could see something was wrong. She could hear it in his voice.
“Alice, slow down and breathe,” he said. “Put Sherman on the phone.”
Callie flinched. Something had happened at Alice’s place? She pushed herself up onto her elbows. What was wrong? Had somebody been hurt?
Carter saw the questions in her eyes, and he lifted a hand to hold her off. “Can you give me a description?”
Her heart began to pound when he swore again.
“Are you sure you just winged him? Where did he go?”
Her eyes went wide. Winged him? Had somebody been shot?
“No! Don’t go after him. Stay inside, lock up the house, and wait for me to get there.” Carter sat up and swung his legs off the bed. “I’ll be right over. For God’s sake, don’t shoot me when I knock on your door.”
Callie scrambled up until she was kneeling on the bed. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
He was already searching for his clothes. He zipped his jeans back up as he looked over the floor. “Somebody tried to steal Sherman’s truck. He heard someone dinking around, so he grabbed his shotgun and headed out after the guy.”
“Oh my God. Who was it?”
“Nobody knows. He ran off into the woods.”
A lead balloon dropped in her gut. She took her T-shirt when Carter handed it to her and tugged it on as he put on his shoes. He walked over to the closet to get the long-sleeved work T-shirt he kept there. She knew his bulletproof vest was in his truck.
She didn’t like this. In her head, she knew he assumed risk every day when he put on that uniform and walked out the door. She just hadn’t expected him to have to face this level of danger. This was Shadow Valley, not Boston.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Suddenly freezing, she pulled the comforter over her legs. She didn’t want him to leave.
“It’s my job. To protect and serve.” He strapped on his gun that she’d gotten used to seeing on her nightstand. “The guy got caught up to no good, and now he could be hurt. I need to take care of things.”
“I know. It’s just that I...” No, she wasn’t going to do this. If they were going to make anything of this relationship, she had to accept all of him. That included his job. “Please, be careful.”
He stopped long enough to plant a hard kiss on her lips. “Lock the house up tight. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Call me,” she said. “Now go help people.”
* * *
IT WASN’T A GOOD NIGHT to be out in the elements. Another cold front had swept into town, and the steering wheel of his truck was cold to the touch. The cold didn’t bother Carter. It was the mess he was stepping into that had him concerned. He wasn’t quite sure what he was facing. Sherman had shot a guy. There just weren’t any good outcomes to a scenario like that.
He pulled out his phone. Bill had the night shift tonight, and he was playing catch-up right now. They needed to coordinate, and he didn’t want to step on any actions that had already gotten underway.
“Hey, chief,” Bill said. “What’s up? I thought you had the night off.”
What’s up? Carter shook his head. Hell, Alice hadn’t even called the station.
“I just got a call from the Gunthries. Somebody tried to steal Sherman’s truck. He shot the guy.”
“Shot him?”
It had been so long since Shadow Valley had had a shooting that it probably wasn’t even in the records.
Carter braked at a stop sign, but kept going around the corner when he didn’t see anyone on the streets. “The guy ran off into the woods. I’m going to check it out.”
“I’ll come back you up, but I’m way out on Route 8, dealing with an OUI.”
“Call everyone else in first. This doesn’t have a good feel to it.” They had a wounded suspect out there. Wounded and hiding in the woods... It wasn’t the best of situations.
The Gunthries lived on the opposite side of the town square from Callie, but still back up against the tree line. When he turned another corner, Carter saw their place was lit up like a Christmas tree. All the outdoor lights were on, and there was a flashlight sweeping the backyard.
“Put out an alert to the community,” he told Bill, although he was sure the message was already spreading. “People should make sure their doors are locked and stay inside. Maybe we’ll get lucky and somebody will spot him.”
Sometimes social media had a purpose. It wasn’t that late; people were still on their devices. They didn’t know if this guy was armed, but he should be considered dangerous. The last thing they needed was another civilian to get surprised by him.
Carter pulled up to the house and shook his head as he stepped out of his truck. “Sherman,” he called toward the flashlight. “I thought I told you to wait inside.”
Alice’s six-foot-tall beanpole of a husband shuffled over to talk to Carter. The wind tugged at his coat and pants, but his shotgun was as steady as his flashlight. “It’s my property. I’ll do as I please.”
As he’d already proven... Carter wandered over to the old beater truck the would-be thief had tried to steal and crouched beside a small pool of blood. “What happened here?”
“Like I told you on the phone, Alice and I were watching our show on the DVR. That’s when I heard the door of my pickup open. I’ve been meaning to oil it for some time now.” Sherman pulled his jacket up tighter around his neck. “Well, I knew right off what was happening. Nancy from next door had clothes stolen off the line. That hooligan came back for my truck.”
Carter went still. He hadn’t made that connection, but his administrative assistant did live next door to the Gunthries. He let his flashlight sweep over the old Ford. It wasn’t locked, and he wasn’t surprised to see the keys in the ignition. “So you decided to grab your shotgun?”
Sherman’s spine straightened. “You know I did. He wasn’t ready for that, let me tell you.”
“Did you hit him bad?”
“Got him in the arm. Maybe the side.”
There were drops of blood leading up the driveway. Carter followed the trail as far as he could with his light. It led off into the woods behind the Gunthries’ house. In the dark, the red splotches were hard to see. If it had snowed, they’d be in better shape.
“Did you get a good look at the guy?”
“Ugly son of a gun.”
“Did you recognize him?”
“He wasn’t anybody from around these parts.”
Carter pulled a notebook out of his jacket pocket. “Can you give me a description?”
“He was a big guy. I’d say he was about my height, maybe two... two twenty. His hair was shaved real close to his head.”
Carter took the description down, but it didn’t ring any bells. He hadn’t seen anybody like that around town. Newcomers and visitors tended to stick out. “What was he wearing?”
“Now why would you ask me that? I’m no fashion maven.”
Carter lifted a hand when his phone started ringing again. “Hold on. Let me get this.”
It was Jackson, his officer with the bum arm. He must have come in to coordinate the search. Good idea. “Landry here.”
“Chief,” Jackson said. For someone who’d just come onto the case, his voice was ragged. “I know you’re busy, but I’ve got some new information you should know.”
Carter tensed. Ah, hell. Were they already too late? “What happened? Did somebody find the guy? Is anyone hurt?”
“No. I don’t know. It’s not that. Maybe now’s not a good time to tell you, but I was fooling around with those fingerprints you sent to the lab from Callie Thompson’s fuse box.”
Carter’s attention focused like a switch had just been thrown.
Jackson took a deep breath. “I know they said the results were inconclusive, but I tried playing around with the prints. You know, like matching the partials up with the ones Raikins took to get a more comprehensive one. And... Well... You’re not going to believe this.”
The tension at the back of Carter’s neck threatened to strangle him. “Jackson, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to come right through this phone and tackle you.”
“I tried a side-by-side match with that larger print, using one set of fingerprints instead of the whole database.” The static screamed when the officer paused. “Now, I’m just learning. It’s only a seventy-four-percent hit.”
“Whose prints did you run?”
“Morton’s. Hell, Carter. They’re Morton’s.”
The nausea hit Carter hard and fast. For a second, his vision blurred, and he reached out for the truck to steady himself. “Are you telling me that Clive Morton was in Callie’s basement?”
“I don’t know for sure. I’m saying I’m not an expert on this, I was just messing around, and the match is far from conclusive—but close enough that I’d want to know if it was my girlfriend’s house.”
Carter’s instincts went into overdrive. He had to get to Callie. Morton had been in that house with her. She didn’t know, and he’d broken rule one.
He’d left her alone.
He was making a beeline for his truck when logic prevailed. He’d just left the house. Nobody had been there except the two of them, and he’d locked the door behind him. Those prints had been taken a while ago.
But locked doors hadn’t stopped the noises in that place.
He rubbed his throbbing shoulder as he looked at the trail of blood. He couldn’t deal with this now.
He went still. Morton. Damn it, where had his head been?
“Hold on, Jackson.” Carter dove inside his truck and grabbed one of the FBI’s wanted flyers from the glove compartment. “Sherman, was this the guy you saw?”
Sherman lumbered over. He held the piece of paper at arm’s length as he shined his flashlight at it. “By golly, that’s him.”
“Why didn’t you say so? We’ve been looking for this guy. He’s an escaped felon.”
“I’ve been on the road, chief. I heard about those escapees, but I didn’t see any flyers and I don’t watch the news much. Too much politics.”
Carter’s brain quickly clicked into gear. Morton had been behind all the petty thefts. Why hadn’t he seen it before? The clothes from Nancy’s line, the church money, and now Sherman’s truck. The answer had been sitting under his nose the entire time.
“Jackson, Sherman just ID’d Morton. Where is my backup?”
The woods pulled at Carter like a magnet. Everything inside of him wanted to go tearing off after the guy, but he knew better. It was too dark in those woods. There was little chance he’d be able to find Morton on his own out there, unless Sherman had gotten him worse than he thought. The guy must have been navigating these trails for weeks. He’d know where to go to hide or where to seek refuge.
Hell. Callie.
“Everyone’s just been put on duty,” Carter said. “Call the surrounding communities and get us some help. We need to sweep these woods, and we need to do it fast.” He ran a hand through his hair. Thoughts were flying at him from every direction. “We’ll need dogs, floodlights, the works. Direct everyone to Sherman and Alice’s house. You’ll coordinate things from the station.”
“I’m on it, chief.”
He couldn’t forget about Callie. If he wasn’t sure she was safe, there’d be no way he could concentrate. As soon as he hung up, Carter called Bill.
“Bill, turn around. I want you to go over to Callie’s. Stay with her until you get word from me. Jackson got a hit on those prints. They’re Morton’s. Sherman just confirmed he’s the guy he shot.”
“Are you kidding me?” The sound of squealing tires came over the phone, followed by a siren. “Don’t worry, chief. He won’t get near her.”
Carter took a deep breath. He had a lot of things to do, and he needed to do them right. He couldn’t let this guy slip away again.
“You all right there, Landry?”
Carter looked at Sherman. The guy stood there, his shotgun pointing at the ground. He was ready to defend what was his. Carter understood the feeling. His brain focused. It was time to be the police chief. “I’m good.”
Time passed quickly from that point. He busied himself cordoning off the area as he waited for his people to arrive. The woods were dark as he wrapped tape around a tree near the point where the blood splotches disappeared.
Morton just better hope he wasn’t the one who found him. The bastard had been in Callie’s house. Had he been the one who’d been scaring her all along? Making sounds, using her things, and trying to get into her bedroom? Carter tamped down the fury that threatened to consume him.
He was just pulling out a map of the county when two of his officers showed up. He nodded at them and spread the map over the hood of a police car. If Morton had gone off trail, it would be hard to find him without dogs, especially if he managed to stop the flow of blood from his wounds. If he was heading somewhere specific, though, the map might help. Carter pulled out a pen and circled the place where the convict was last seen.
His phone rang again, splintering his thoughts. “Landry here.”
“Chief, it’s Bill.”
The map was quickly forgotten when he heard the shakiness in Bill’s voice. “What is it?”
“You’d better get over here quick.”
“Is he there?” Carter’s world tilted on its axis. “Does he have her?”
“No, it’s...”
“Spit it out, Bill.”
“The Hughes kid says it’s Adelaide. She’s going nuts.”