Evan pulled the stolen car onto a dirt-and-rock encrusted path, a barely visible road out in the middle of nowhere. He’d been avoiding anywhere people might be around, knowing his face was probably plastered all over the news. Anybody owning a television must’ve seen his mugshot by now. Between TV, the internet, and social media these days, he’d be lucky to stay off the grid for any length of time. He hoped it would be long enough to finish what he needed to do.
He’d wandered through a couple of suburban backyards, definitely well outside the outskirts of town, where houses weren’t close together, spotting a few snot-nosed kids playing behind fences. But then again, he hadn’t seen a lot of fences in this Podunk small town. Guess people didn’t crave the privacy like the bigger cities. Not his cup of tea; he’d much rather live it up with loud music, wild nightlife, big cities, with bars, and lots of liquor. Maybe a couple of hookers. Prison had severely restricted his access to female companionship.
People must be more trusting in Middle America, too, because he’d discovered a whole lot of unlocked back doors while he’d been snooping around, scouting Beth’s location. He’d managed to enter a couple of houses without being spotted, grabbed clean clothes and food. Who’d have figured he’d turn into a halfway decent thief?
Too bad Beth hadn’t been where she was supposed to be. He’d kept watch over the address of the apartment he’d been given, but he hadn’t spotted her or his daughter. But his luck turned when a woman in a rusty older compact sedan pulled in and started unloading groceries. The idiot obviously didn’t know a thing about the cardinal rule—never leave your keys in the ignition. Of course, he benefitted from her mistake, because he didn’t have a clue how to hotwire a car. Not a skill set he’d ever thought he’d need. When she’d foolishly walked toward the building’s entrance, he sprinted across the parking lot, slid behind the wheel, and sped away, easy-peasy.
Where is Beth?
He drove as far as he could down the barely negotiable path, needing to get off the road for a while. By now, the woman had probably reported her car stolen, and the last thing he needed was to be pulled over by the cops.
Especially that lousy sheriff, Rafe Boudreau.
Oh yeah, he had a score to settle with the good sheriff. He was top three on his list, along with his brother. He couldn’t comprehend what Tessa saw in the sheriff, with his cornpone, aw shucks personality.
Grabbing a couple of branches off the ground, he stacked them around the rear bumper of the car, obscuring it from view as best he could with the leaves mostly brown and brittle. They blended right in with the pockets of rust on this hunk of junk. He pocketed the keys and climbed into the back seat, stretching out on the cushioned bench seat. He needed to lay low for an hour or two, catch a catnap and then try to sneak back to the apartment complex.
Time was running out. He could practically hear a clock ticking in his head. As much as he wanted to think the cops were inept, between the local cops and the feds, and who knows whoever else looking for him, he needed to grab Beth, get money, and head as far away from this disaster as possible.
Closing his eyes, his lips curled up in a smile at the thought of Beth at his mercy. Revenge would be oh…so…sweet.
Brody answered the phone on the first ring. He’d been on edge most of the night, antsy to get back to the Big House. Back to Beth. Checking in with Rafe the night before, he’d slammed his fist against the wall when his brother told him there still wasn’t any info on Evan. The man was a city dude. How was he able to survive in rural Texas without somebody spotting him?
“Tell me you’ve heard something?”
“Good morning to you too, grouch.” Rafe’s cheerful voice made him wince, especially since he hadn’t had his first cup of coffee yet.
“I am not in the mood for your crap today, Rafe. Tell me what’s going on with Stewart.”
“From the feds, nothing. Same with the state troopers. But I did receive report of a stolen car.”
“Where?” Brody stood straighter, getting a gut feeling.
“Here. In the county, but not in town. The reason I think it’s significant is because it was stolen from the apartment complex where Beth and Jamie used to live until a few days ago.”
“It’s him.”
“I think so. Enough to pass the information on to everyone else. Antonio called SAC Williamson, who told him to stick around Shiloh Springs until Stewart is apprehended. He’s heading this way too. Personally, I think he wants to see Daisy again.”
“Yeah, well, tell him to flirt on his own time. We need to find Stewart.”
He was here, Brody could feel it. That sick, twisted freak was in Shiloh Springs, which meant he’d come for Beth. Not gonna happen. He’d die before he let Stewart get his hands on Beth or Jamie.
“Where are you?”
“Back at my place,” Brody answered. “There were enough people crowded into the Big House last night, so Momma told me to come back this morning. She’s keeping everybody home from church, in case Stewart shows up.”
“Lemme ask you something, bro. What do you make of Stewart’s sister showing up? Too much of a coincidence?”
Brody immediately understood Rafe’s concern, because he’d instinctively felt the same when he’d found out Camilla Stewart showed up in Shiloh Springs. Even with advance notice, and Beth saying it was okay, it seemed too good to be true Stewart’s sister would be on a plane to Texas the day after he escaped from Huntsville Prison.
“Beth swears Camilla is nothing like her brother. She knew Camilla was coming to Texas, and she was going to spend a couple of days with her and Jamie. Apparently, she had some papers Stewart needed to sign, and he’d been balking, so she decided to show up in person and make him sign them.”
“That’s what Beth told me too, but something doesn’t feel right. It’s got my Spidey senses tingling.”
Brody chuckled at his brother’s half-hearted joke, though he trusted Rafe’s instincts. His brother had instincts when it came to bad guys and seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to figuring out the criminal mindset, and how to deal with miscreants.
“If he’s here, close enough to be at her apartment, then I need to get back to the Big House.”
“I figured you’d say that. I’m pulling up to the apartment complex now. I want to talk to the lady whose car was stolen. It hasn’t been sighted yet, but he can’t stay hidden forever. Dusty’s gonna drive by Old Man Johnson’s cottage, check and make sure nobody’s been snooping around looking for Beth and Jamie.”
“Keep me posted.”
“You got it. Talk to you later.”
Brody hung up and headed for the kitchen. His apartment wasn’t big, only a one bedroom, but it was enough until he settled down. He’d tried living in Austin, figuring he’d spread his wings outside Shiloh Springs. Not his brightest idea. Within a year, he was back. The furniture he’d splurged on when moving he’d placed in storage, until Tessa’s place had been trashed. He’d loaned it willingly. What good did it do sitting in a storage unit gathering dust? Now it was at the Old Johnson place, where Beth and Jamie lived. He liked the thought of them sitting on his furniture, making a home with things he’d picked out. Maybe someday…
He dumped grounds into the coffee maker, added the water and turned it on. Despite what everybody said, he didn’t really care for those pod-type coffee makers. There was something satisfying about being able to measure out the grounds and watching while it brewed. This morning, he needed the sharp kick of caffeine. He’d barely slept, thinking about Beth and their kiss.
It had been exactly how he’d imagined it. He wasn’t sure when their friendship had started growing into something more. Something special. Now he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time worrying about what others would think, whether they’d approve. So much time lost he’d never get back. But he refused to dwell in the past any longer.
He loved Beth. It had snuck up on him, but didn’t change the fact. He was head-over-heels, totally and deeply in love with the woman, and he didn’t care who knew. Things would change once Stewart was back behind bars. The good thing was this stunt he’d pulled would add a whole new batch of charges against him, and he’d be spending the rest of his foreseeable future being bunk mates with the rest of the male population of Huntsville. He was pretty sure this time, Stewart wouldn’t be getting out so easily.
The text alert pinged on his phone, and he swiped the message open. The lab tech had texted he’d sent an e-mail with the findings Brody was waiting for. There it was, in black and white. The forensic lab confirmed the fire at the Summers’ barn was deliberate.
Arson.
He read through the rest of the report, frowning. As he’d suspected, gasoline had been the accelerant used. Not much help, because gasoline was readily available, a cheap and easy source. They’d tested the charred wood samples, as well as the broken pieces of glass, the ones that hadn’t been sent to the crime lab to look for any DNA or fingerprints. Hopefully he’d get their report within the next day or two. Since it was Sunday, he was lucky he’d gotten the lab report. It was too much to hope for a twofer.
He’d let Greg know as well as the insurance company. Greg had headed back to San Antonio after answering his questions, depressed and worried his family’s property was being targeted by an unknown person. This was going to devastate that family, and he felt guilty he had to share the bad news with them. But it was his job, his responsibility. On the bright side, if you could call it a bright side, this confirmed there was a serial arsonist working in Shiloh Springs.
The real job was just beginning.