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Rain Shadow Book 3 Page 2


  He hesitated again. “Can you give me your badge number?”

  “Right.” I read off my number, and I heard pen scratch paper as he scribbled it down. “Can I reach you at the office?” Scoffield asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll call you right back.”

  Gage and Seth walked into the office just as I hung up. “Hey, little bro, we’re here to take you to lunch,” Gage said.

  “That sounds good. Need to drown myself in a pitcher of beer right now. I’m just waiting on a call.”

  Seth looked down at the bag of ice. “Shit, you are one damaged dude. What the hell happened now?”

  The cloth was dripping with cold water and I hung it off the edge of the desk. “You know how it is when those damn walls get in the way of your fist. Like I said, I need some beer. How long are you guys going to stay in town?”

  “I’m going to have to head back to work soon,” Seth said. “Our team is heading west to work on a bridge off the coast. But I can hold off for another week or so.”

  “Yeah, I’d love for you guys to stay around but only if you can.”

  Gage leaned on the adjacent desk. “I’ll have to head back up to the logging camp in a few days.”

  My phone rang and I picked it up. “Special Agent Barringer.”

  “Yes, this is Detective Scoffield. I’ve check your badge number and spoken with your superior. Your story checks out. Thanks for your help with this. This has been one of those cases that has been stuck in my craw for two years.”

  “I understand. My father was a detective, and he had a few of those. Some he never solved, and I know they followed him to the grave.”

  “Detective Mark Barringer?”

  “That’s him.”

  “I knew him. He was a good guy. Too bad about the heart attack.”

  “Yep, those heart attacks can definitely sneak up on you. Listen, Detective Scoffield, I was wondering, when you talk to Cash can you tell him to bring Evangeline out with him.” After wracking my brain for hours about how to get into the compound, I realized it would be easier to have Angel come out. I knew that she could leave the compound when she was with one of the men.

  “Who is Evangeline?”

  “That is Dreygon Sharpe’s granddaughter. She’s the one who saved my life. She very much wants to be free of the compound. We’d planned to leave the place together, but that all changed when Sharpe ordered my execution.”

  “Look, Barringer, I understand that you’ve gone through a lot, but I can’t use official business to secure your dating life.”

  “Detective Scoffield, please just ask. Cash will understand. It will be easy enough. He has left the compound with her before. And she is in danger in that place.”

  “You sound determined.”

  “If she doesn’t ride out with Cash then I’m going in there to get her. I just thought this way would be less deadly.”

  “I’ll mention it. Then Cash will be disappearing after we get his statement. You won’t be able to contact him. What shall we do with the girl? I’m only providing protection for my informant, and if she’s Sharpe’s granddaughter, holding her will be like holding a ticking time bomb.”

  “I’ll come with you when you meet Cash. Then I’ll take her with me, and you won’t have to worry about it.”

  “If things go awry, this is all on your head. I’ll see to it that you’re stripped of your badge.”

  “I understand. Thanks and let me know when you have the details.” I gave him my cell phone number and hung up.

  Gage got up. “Let’s eat. I’m fucking starved.”

  “Me too,” I said. “But I need to make a stop first.”

  ***

  From the car, the expanse of finely mowed lawn looked as if some giant had stuck thousands of gray postage stamps into the crisp green blades. They’d held Dex’s funeral quickly after discovering his remains. I’d missed the entire thing. My whereabouts had still been unknown, which was the reason for a short, low key service. They’d given him the DEA’s highest medal, the Administrator’s Award of Honor, but it wasn’t going to do him much good now.

  The grave was still fresh, just a rectangle of dirt with a headstone to mark it. The flowers had wilted and they hung limply across the soil. His parents had opted for the family funeral plots. They’d buried him between his grandmother and a baby sister who’d been stillborn.

  “Dexter Lee Stevens,” I read. “Beloved son, friend and MX buddy.” I smiled and looked over at my brothers. “I suppose that was your contribution.”

  Seth raised his hand. “That was my brilliant idea. I think Dex would have like it.”

  I crouched down next to the headstone and ran my fingers along the edges of the lettering. “Damn right he would. I need to talk to his parents.”

  “For what?” Gage asked. “They’re probably back in Palm Springs by now. They are like fucking plastic dolls. Seth and I could barely hold it together, but they watched them throw dirt on top of their son’s coffin as if they were watching the gardener fill a hole for a tree.”

  Seth picked up a half dead flower and twirled it in his fingers. “How the hell did Dex end up so cool when he had such shitty parents?”

  “He hung around us, and the Barringer coolness rubbed off,” Gage said. “With all the friends we had, Dex was definitely our fourth musketeer. You don’t owe his parents anything, Luke. Dex was in a dangerous job, and it got him in the end.” Gage was always to the point. He didn’t believe in over thinking stuff. Something I was notorious for. The night after I’d come home, I’d told them the ugly details of Dex’s death. I was shaking by the time I’d finished. It had been too much for Seth to absorb, and he’d gotten up to wash his face and take a few shots of whiskey. Flickers of emotion had crossed Gage’s face through the entire nightmarish tale, but he’d held it together and I knew he had done it for me. We’d sat in silence for a long time and then Gage looked at me and said, ‘you didn’t kill him, Luke, those assholes did. And we need to make them pay for it’.

  I stared down at the gravestone. My eyes ached, and I closed them tightly until the pain passed. “I tried to stay awake, Dex. I really tried.”

  Seth put his hand on my shoulder, but neither brother said another word. They let me sit there for a long time.

  Chapter 3

  Luke

  “Oh my, all three Barringer brothers at once? Someone up there likes me.” It had been a long time since I’d been inside Cruisers, but Holly hadn’t change at all. She pressed up next to Gage and grinned up at him. “Did you get taller?”

  “Yeah, I’m having one of those mid-twenties growth spurts,” Gage said.

  She laughed off his sarcastic answer. “Still the same old Gage. You sure do hold a grudge.” My brother usually had a hard time hiding his feelings, and he hadn’t like Holly since she’d snitched on him in ninth grade. They’d gone truant from second period to make-out behind the mini-mart. When they got caught, she told the principal he’d made her go. That had been the final straw for my dad. That was when he’d sent Gage to live with our grandfather.

  “Can we get a booth?” Seth asked.

  Her white teeth sparkled at him. “My god, you are even more handsome than I remembered, Luke.”

  Seth pointed at me. “He’s Luke. I’m Seth.”

  She laughed. “Silly me. It’s not like you two look alike.” She turned her attention to me. “Of course, how could I forget that Luke is the dark and dangerous one. Haven’t seen you in here in a long time.”

  “I’ve been out of town.”

  “Hey,” Gage said sharply, “can we get a booth? Otherwise I’m going to climb over that beer counter and fill my own pitcher.”

  The smile she’d shown him earlier had faded to a scowl. “You would too, wouldn’t you? This way.” We followed her to a table and slid in. “I’ll get the pitcher of beer for you,” she said sharply.

  I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “What? She’s a two-faced bitch.”


  “Hope she doesn’t spit in the beer. She was right about the grudge thing,” I said. “You were in the ninth grade. Let it go.”

  “She’s the reason Dad shipped me off to Grandpa’s ranch.”

  “And that turned out to be a good thing.” Seth picked up a sugar packet, opened it and threw back the contents into his mouth. “And you can’t really blame Holly for all the other things you did.”

  Gage shoved the sugar packet container toward him. “Shut up and eat your lunch.”

  Holly returned and placed the beer pitcher down hard on the table and then left. I pulled the beer toward me and scanned the top of it. “Looks clean. All the foam is still there.”

  “Maybe she spit in the dry pitcher and then filled it.” Seth downed another packet of sugar. “Shit, I’m hungry. Why didn’t she take our order?”

  “Ask him.” I pointed at Gage.

  “Whatever.” Gage slouched back against the fake leather seat. “So, tell us about this girl.”

  “Angel? You’ll meet her soon.” I refused to think otherwise. I needed Angel to be back with me, back where she belonged.

  “Shit, Gage, check out that dreamy look. This boy is smitten. Congratulations, Luke, you’re the first Barringer brother to hand off his nuts for someone else’s safe keeping.”

  “Shut up, Seth. When you meet her you’ll know why I look like this. It’s almost impossible to describe her. Whenever I was with her, I had to remind myself that she was real. She’s incredibly smart and wildly uninhibited. She’s sweet and vulnerable and tough and resilient. When Angel is near, time just stops, and no one else exists except her. We connected immediately, like we were meant to be together. She saved my life. Now I need to return the favor.”

  A different server came to take our order, and I was slightly relieved not to have to check my burger. The pitcher of beer and the sugar disappeared quickly as we waited for our food.

  “Here’s something you probably haven’t heard,” Seth said. “Remember the ‘trash bag Jane Doe’ that Dad spent so much time investigating?” The server slid the burgers in front of us.

  I lifted the bun and poured on some ketchup. “Of course, it was one of those cases that he just couldn’t let go of. Like the staple gun murder where they found the victims stapled to the walls by their fingers. And the starlight baby kidnapping, that one haunted him the most. We were toddlers when it happened, and I guess he figured it could happen to any parent.”

  “Anyhow, they found out she was some tourist from Indonesia or someplace like that. Her husband had killed her and left her for dead in the trash bin. I guess he thought ditching her far away from home was the way to go. And it worked. Until now. Too bad Dad isn’t here. He spent hours poring over all those cases and none of them were solved while he was alive.”

  I lifted the burger. “Maybe the other cases will be solved too someday. Cold cases are back in style again.”

  “So, what are you going to do when you get this girl out of her grandfather’s compound?” Gage asked. “Seems like you’re going to be in danger, both of you. Maybe you should come up to the ranch.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure yet. Dreygon is a dangerous man, and we won’t be safe until he’s behind bars. But he’s a slippery fucking bastard.” My phone rang and I pulled it out. “Hello.”

  “Is this Special Agent Barringer?” I recognized Scoffield’s voice.

  I lowered my voice. “Yes, Detective Scoffield, any word?”

  “I have a meeting place and time for the individual we discussed earlier, but he has informed me that the female you inquired about is no longer living at the compound.”

  I stiffened. “Where is she? Did he say?” This was the one scenario I hadn’t considered.

  “She ran away several days ago, and no one has seen her since. I’m sorry. Thank you again for contacting me.” He hung up.

  “What’s the matter?” Gage asked. “You look as if someone just punched you in the chest.”

  I tossed the phone on the table and sank back. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

  Chapter 4

  Angel

  The funky smell on the bed sheets made burrowing down beneath the covers less than pleasant. The grimy little motel room had become my cave for three days. Hunger gnawed a flaming hole in my stomach, and my hands were shaky from low blood sugar. The water flowing from the bathroom sink had tasted metallic from rust, but I’d forced myself to drink it to stay hydrated.

  I stared at the painting of the old mill, the only adornment in the room, and an amazingly well drawn picture. It was completely out of place on the tobacco stained walls. Even after growing up in the crude cabins of the compound, the motel room seemed dingy beyond description. It fit my mood perfectly. Never in my life, and a bizarre life it had been, had I ever felt this despondent. There were the days after my mom’s death when I’d felt bereft to the point where I couldn’t eat or sleep or think. Gracie’s death had been nearly as numbing, but as the shock of losing Luke wore off, I sank deeper into depression. And I saw no way to climb out of it. I could never live past the pain of what had happened. Luke and I had been so connected. I would have been far better off dying with him.

  A knock rattled the door to the room, and I sat up. My head spun and a wave of nausea rolled through me. “Yes.”

  “Miss Smith, check out is ten o’clock, otherwise you’ll need to pay for another night.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be out by ten.” I slid my feet to the floor. I no longer had the will to deny myself food. The diner down the road always had a steady stream of customers, so I figured it had to be good. Then I would climb on the first bus heading west and get the hell out of Nevada. I was still dangerously close to Dreygon, and as rotten as I felt, I was still better off being away from the club. The only person I truly missed was Jericho, but he would recover from my absence. I was sure of it. I only hoped that he, too, could break free from Dreygon’s iron grasp.

  The shower curtain was patterned with tiny dolphins and smudges of green mold. Only a trickle of lukewarm water dripped from the shower head, but in the same bit of paradox as the beautiful painting in the otherwise ugly room, the motel had provided some tiny bottles of surprisingly luxurious shampoo and body wash. Lathering up felt heavenly, but the lack of water pressure made rinsing off a lengthy process.

  I stepped out and was disappointed to realize that the towels smelled just as stale as the bed sheets. I air dried while I combed out my hair. I plaited a few thin braids in it. It was a habit I’d started as a young girl. My mom had always worn them, and I’d always loved her style. Even though she was never truly meant for motherhood, I’d loved everything about my mom. My throat tightened when I thought about how badly I needed her right now. Even with her mental illness, I would have given anything to have grown up with her still in my life.

  I pulled on my shorts, t-shirt and my old, black army boots. As I laced them up, I thought about making love to Luke with them still on. I’d never felt as sensual or passionate as I had with him. He knew exactly where to touch me. He always knew exactly what I wanted without me having to tell him. It would never be the same with anyone else.

  I swung my backpack onto my shoulder. I’d allowed myself the one concession of packing a medical book. I hated to be without them completely, but it was thick and now it felt impractical to have toted it along. I’d never done anything like this before, and I’d left without much thought to what I would need. I was feeling a bit silly, like a kid who’d packed her own suitcase for the family trip, filling it with toys and crayons instead of more practical things.

  The air outside was still cool. I squinted into the bright sunlight as if I’d been locked in a dark theater for days. The motel stretched for two blocks along the road and then ended abruptly at an abandoned gas station. All of the windows of the small brick kiosk in the back of the station had been broken, and large weeds grew from the fissures in the asphalt. Patches of bright blue paint still showed on the rusty pumps
. It was one of those places that the owner had probably opened with enthusiasm and anticipation only to realize that he’d made a bad business decision.

  I walked past the bus stop. The benches had more graffiti than paint. Through the haze of my three days of hibernation, I’d heard a bus pull through town several times. The clock in the room was not set at the right time, but I estimated that they’d passed by the motel in late afternoon. I’d bide my time in the diner until the waitress got tired of filling my water. Then I’d spend the rest of the day waiting for the bus. Three days in the motel had cost me sixty dollars. The money wasn’t going to last me long. I needed to find work soon. As tempting as Maggie’s offer had been, I was still way too close to the compound.

  I’d managed to miss the early breakfast crowd, and the diner was only half filled when I walked inside. The aroma of bacon mingled with the rich buttery smell of maple syrup, and my mouth watered instantly. A long, sparkling counter ran along the front of the restaurant. I lowered my backpack to the floor and hopped up on a stool. The waitress, a young woman with a rich pile of black hair piled in a bun and sparkling green eyes, smiled over at me from the drink station. “I’ll be right with you. There’s a menu right there. My name’s Tracy if you need me.”

  I pulled out a menu. Every item looked incredibly delicious. I read through the whole thing twice before deciding on strawberry topped pancakes. They probably couldn’t hold a candle to Aunt Gracie’s pancakes, but I was so hungry, they could put sawdust in the batter and I’d still eat them.

  Tracy pulled out her pad of paper and pencil. “Have you decided?”

  “Strawberry pancakes and coffee, please.”

  “Good choice.” She looked up at me. “Are you just passing through? I’ve never seen you here before.”