Stolen Omnibus – Small Town Abduction Page 3

  “Even if he did, what would this accomplish? Huh? Christ, Lena!” Jake kicked the tire of his truck and paced back and forth in quick circles. “You want to give them more fuel for the fire?”

  Lena frowned. She’d known her brother longer than anyone, and it wasn’t like him to back down from a fight. “What is wrong with you?” She tried to hide the hint of disgust in her voice but did a poor job. “You know what these people have already done to our family. You know what they’re doing to our town. To your county. You’re just going to let it happen?”

  Jake’s nostrils flared, his eyes wild but focused on her own. “Don’t put that on me. You know I’ve done everything I can to help. You don’t have any right to say that! None.”

  Lena deflated, the adrenaline subsiding and the aches and pains of the altercation starting to set in. She leaned back against the warm metal of the truck. He was right. He’d proven his loyalty to her time and again. After her failed third attempt at getting clean, Jake was the only one left who picked up the phone. Whatever was holding him back now, she didn’t have the right to question. “I have to do something, Jake. I can’t just sit around and wait.”

  “Then don’t,” Jake said, the anger in his voice gone but his tone still stern. “You can still help bring her home.”

  The bill. Lena had dumped over two years of her life into this fight. But even with all of the hours she’d sunk into that piece of legislation, all of the sweat and tears and blood that had been spilled to breathe life into it, there wasn’t any hesitation in her mind about what she needed to do.

  ***

  The week’s excitement didn’t seem to have an ending. Jake stood with his hands on his hips, his head down, nodding, as one of his deputies gave him the rundown of the situation with New Energy.

  “Mr. Lang said he didn’t want to press charges,” Deputy Longwood said.

  Jake grunted. “Of course not. He wouldn’t want to make himself look like more of an ass than he already has.” He rubbed the coarse stubble on his chin. “Get the news crews out of here, and then head back to the station.” Jake looked around, checking to see if anyone was listening, then pulled Longwood over to his truck. “I need your help with something.”

  “Of course, Sheriff. Whatever you need.”

  “I want you to take lead on the Reese Coleman case. I’m not going to have time to look into it anymore with Kaley missing.”

  “You can count on me, Sheriff.”

  The genuine pride in the man’s voice was enough to know that Jake had picked the right person. “I know. But listen. There’s a good chance that the oil company had something to do with Kaley’s disappearance. With a dead body on their property, the bill passing in town last night, and the riots happening, they have to be feeling the heat. Before you do anything I want you to run it by me first.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When Longwood left, Jake saw Ken Lang by his car, pressing a white handkerchief to the bloody lip that Lena had given him. Jake smiled and climbed behind the wheel of his truck and started the engine. The cabin was old but clean. The previous sheriff had kept the vehicle in good shape. The only addition Jake provided was an upgrade to the radio system and the gun rack on the window behind him, where his trusted lever action .223 Remington with a shining walnut finish stock was perched. On his way out he made sure to drive a little too fast and close to the reporters still lingering on the property. One of the cameramen looked as if he shit a brick.

  But if Jake was hoping to escape the cameras when he returned to Barta, he was wrong. He saw a cluster of reporters outside his station a mile down the road. Before he got too close he stopped and let the engine idle for a minute. He eyed the rifle behind him and wondered if a few rounds near their feet would clear the area, but decided against it.

  Jake parked the truck and lowered the brim of his hat to shield his eyes from the flashing cameras and lights from the swarming mob that circled the moment he stepped out of the vehicle. Twice a microphone smacked his cheek, and he swatted it away like a fly buzzing around his face.

  “Sheriff, does the kidnapping have to do with the oil reform bill that was passed last night?”

  “How are you handling the aftermath of the riots?”

  “Is the Reese Coleman death tied to the disappearance of your niece?”

  Jake picked his head up at the last one. But instead of addressing them individually he gave a blanket statement. “I’ve called the governor, and he’s sending more resources to help with repairing the damage done after the riots last night. The body of Reese Coleman is being examined by our medical team at the hospital, and they should be giving us an update on the autopsy soon. We’ve also issued an Amber Alert for Kaley Hayes, and I have every sheriff in every county across North Dakota looking for her. I would like to remind everyone watching that if you see anything at all, please contact the authorities. That’s all the time I have for questions.”

  Jake ignored the flood of questions that followed and stepped inside the station where all hands were on deck. The fallout from the riots the night before had caused him to seek the aid of Stark County, and the moment he discovered that Kaley was taken, his station became the central command post for every search party across the state. A few glances were tossed his way as he walked toward his office, but for the most part everyone kept their head down and worked. He liked that.

  The jeers from the prison cells across the bullpen, however, were a different story. Nearly twenty arrests were made last night during the riots, almost all of them oil workers that were pissed about the bill. “You can’t keep us locked in here forever, Sheriff.” Jim Foreman clung tight to the iron bars. His nose was bloodied and his hair disheveled. According to the report from Jake’s deputies it was he who started the fistfight in the town hall that sparked the riot. “I still haven’t gotten my phone call.”

  “I know.” Jake shut his office door behind him and hung his hat on top of the coatrack. He sat behind the old wooden desk, which had been in the sheriff’s office since the building was constructed. Fifteen sheriffs had sat behind that desk, and all of them had been re-elected until their retirement. It had become a bit of a superstition to never try and remove it.

  “Sheriff?” Deputy Longwood poked his head through the doorway and accompanied it with a knock. “I got an update from the morgue on Reese Coleman’s body.”

  “Let’s have it.”

  “It looks like the cause of death was blood loss. In total he was shot twice. The bullets the doctor pulled out were .223 rounds. He removed one from his right shoulder and one from the back of his left leg. The doc said it was the leg injury that caused the most blood loss. He also said there was a bit of wear and tear on Coleman’s feet. Like he’d been running for a long time before he was shot.” Longwood looked up from the note and leaned against the door. “That’s all we have for now.”

  “So someone chased him down, shot him, and then let him bleed out.” Jake grimaced. “Vindictive.” He looked up to Longwood and nodded. “That’ll be all, deputy. Thank you.”

  Longwood turned to leave but then stopped himself just before he shut the door. “Oh, Sheriff, before I forget. The rig manager at New Energy came and spoke to me. Scott Ambers, I think his name was? Anyway, he said that he gave you video of Reese Coleman’s body being placed on their property?”

  Jake frowned in confusion. “No, he never gave me anything. Must be mistaken.”

  “Oh. All right. Thanks, Sheriff.”

  The deputy had left the door open when he stepped out, and Jake walked over to close it, along with the blinds to his window. He returned to his chair behind the desk and turned on his computer. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, which he plugged into the port. He double-clicked the file and opened a video.

  Security footage from New Energy played on the screen, and at first only an open field of grass was shown. But at the sixty-second mark a masked individual carrying a body wrapped in plastic tarp stepped into
frame. A few seconds later Reese Coleman’s corpse was dumped on the ground.

  Both the man and Coleman’s body were in the frame together for less than a minute, but Jake re-watched the video a dozen more times, studying every frame, every second, until he was sure, absolutely, one hundred percent sure, that there was no visual evidence that would reveal his identity.

  Chapter 3 – 34 Hours Left

  Lena watched from the backseat of the squad car as Mark’s car was parked off to the side of the house in the grass. Despite her protest, Jake wouldn’t allow her to drive home. The deputy that drove opened the car door, and Lena climbed out silently.

  The dozens of squad cars and police officers had vanished since she left. All the evidence gathered and tagged. The only officers that remained were there per Jake’s orders, but for protection or surveillance after her recent outburst, she wasn’t sure.

  When she stepped back inside the house Lena saw Mark with a mop in his hands, wiping the boot prints from the floor. He tossed the mop’s handle aside and rushed toward her, squeezing her tight before she was even two steps inside. They kissed, and after a moment Lena raised her eyebrows. “Where’s Gwen?”

  “She went with one of the deputies to grab us some dinner. I don’t think she wanted to stay here after what happened.” Mark reached for Lena’s hand again and lowered his voice. “You shouldn’t have gone over there like that.”

  “I had to do something.” Lena let his hands go and sat at the kitchen table. She rubbed her palms together, feeling the grime of the past twenty-four hours. When Mark finally sat down to join her she spoke. “I’m going to do it.” A knuckle popped as she squeezed her hands. “I’m going to kill the oil legislation.”

  Mark offered a hollow nod. He rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Did you call Janine?”

  “Not yet. I’m going to meet with the families first. Let them know.”

  Mark’s arms hit the kitchen table with a thud. “Lena, that’s not a good idea.”

  “They have a right to know before I make a public announcement. I’ve spent two years—”

  “You don’t think I know that?” The chair slid backward forcefully as Mark stood. “Who do you think has been on that road with you for the past two years?” He raised his arms and let an exasperated laugh. “That’s all you’ve done, Lena. Work, sit with the families, be in court, spend the nights in your office. And do you know who took care of the girls, the bills, the house, everything else while you were sucked into that world?” He kicked the leg of his chair, and it skidded farther across the floor. “How much more are you going to give those people?”

  The outburst caught Lena off guard just as much as her own reaction to it. “Well, I’m sorry I didn’t have time for your pity party, Mark.” She flattened her palms on the table, leaning under the lamp that hovered above. The spark of frustration had given way to anger now, and once it had the momentum she couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry I was too busy trying to prevent more people from getting sick, more workers from dying. But you know what? Let’s talk about how hard it was for you to cook dinner last week!”

  It was a nastiness that Mark hadn’t ever really seen firsthand. He knew about her past, and before they married she told him everything. Every ugly, cringe-worthy, and harrowing fact of the life she had put behind her. But this was his first real glimpse.

  Speechless, Mark retreated to what was left of their bedroom, slamming the door shut to punctuate his exit. Lena punched the table, cursing under her breath, and rubbed the same fist that she’d used in her fight with Ken. She reached into her pocket and removed her phone.

  She heard the engine of a car pulling up out front, and at first she just thought it was Gwen and the deputy back from getting food, but when she heard the voice, she dropped the phone and sprinted out the front door.

  “Gwen!” Nick stumbled out of the rear taxi door and face-planted into the dirt and grass. He pushed himself up with four shaking limbs then pawed the dirt on his cheek. “Gwen!”

  The deputy outside held up his left hand while his right gripped the handle of the pistol still in its holster. “I need you to get back in the car and leave. Now.”

  Nick’s tattered clothes, the disheveled hair, and sunken-in, bloodshot eyes—one look at him and Lena knew his mind was already gone. He was either in the middle of a bender or had just finished one. “Gwen!” Spit flew from his mouth, and the vein along his neck pulsed quickly.

  The deputy placed a hand on Nick’s shoulder once he got to his feet, but Nick batted it away. The deputy pinned Nick’s arms behind his back and wrangled him into submission.

  “Where’s my daughter?” Nick squirmed under the weight of both officers as they handcuffed his wrists behind his back and lifted him off the ground. “Where’s Gwen?”

  Even from a distance Lena could smell the rancid odor of unwashed skin and stale alcohol. What would have been a repugnant smell for most only agitated her own addict within. “Get him out of here!”

  The sound of her voice triggered Nick’s first coherent glance. He locked eyes with her and whispered her name. “Lena.” His voice sounded parched for water. When he looked to the house he eyed it like a wanderer in the desert that stumbles upon an oasis. “You have to let me see her. You have to. I saw what happened on the news.”

  The train of coherent thought didn’t last much longer, and Lena watched him cry and mumble unintelligible pleas, but it was only an act. A convincing act fueled by whatever narcotics had beaten his mind to mush. Lena motioned her hand aside. “Get him off my property.”

  The officer yanked Nick backward, and he kicked the air, thrashing wildly against both officers, who threw him in the back of the squad car, where his outburst continued as he viciously rocked back and forth, forcing the deputy to add more restraints.

  Dust kicked up on the dirt road to the house, and Lena watched the squad car she knew carried Gwen grow closer. Her heart skipped a beat, and she lunged for the officer peeling the latex gloves off his hands while Nick continued to howl in the backseat. “You have to get him out of here. Now. My daughter cannot see him.” She shoved the deputy toward the driver-side door, and he fumbled for his keys. “Go! Hurry!”

  The deputy started the car and turned around in the yard just as the second deputy pulled up to the house. Lena watched Gwen eye the second police car with curiosity but wasn’t sure if she saw Nick in the backseat or not. She climbed out of the car, a plastic bag with Styrofoam boxes in her hand. She turned around in time to watch the police car disappear. “Who was that?”

  Lena relieved her daughter of the plastic bag and kissed her forehead as she put her arm around her, guiding her back to the house. “No one. The deputy just got called back to the station. Shift change or something.”

  Gwen pulled herself away, pointing to the trail of dust that was all that remained of Nick’s presence. “That was my dad, wasn’t it?” There was an angered curiosity in her tone. He was a man she knew like a very old dream. It was nothing but pieces of fragments. Luckily, Lena had pulled them both away before he could do any real damage.

  “I don’t know what he was doing here, but— Gwen!” Lena chased after her daughter into the house, unable to reach her before she slammed the bedroom door shut, locking her out.

  Lena pounded on her daughter’s door, which failed to penetrate the loud blasts of music that seeped through the door’s cracks. “Gwen, open up.” But the request was denied, and the music only grew louder. She gently clawed the door and pressed her forehead against the cold wood. Each thump of bass from inside rattled her head and body. She looked to her left and saw Mark standing with only half his body in the hallway, his arms crossed and his head down.

  Whoever took Kaley had struck an exposed nerve in her family that had remained untouched for years. And the pain it caused seemed to be making up for lost time.

  ***

  Jake lingered outside the hospital. He drummed his fingers nervously on the dash of his truck. He
took a breath, stepped out of his truck, then trudged through the automatic emergency room doors. He checked in with the nurse and then followed the signs on the first floor to the morgue, where the doctor still had Deputy Keen’s body on the shining steel slab of a seven-by-three-foot table.

  The deputy had been stripped down, nothing covering him except a white sheet. His face had already grown pale, and Jake was glad that his eyes were closed. This was the first deputy who’d died in the line of duty in the history of his county. “What do you have, Doc?”

  The doctor kept his eyes glued to the clipboard and the body, circling the steel table like a shark. “Time of death was between ten and eleven this morning.”

  Jake removed his hat, calculating the time difference between time of death and when his people arrived on scene, which gave the kidnapper at least an hour head start, two if it was closer to ten o’clock.

  The doctor stopped and pulled down the white sheet, revealing the three bullet wounds in the body’s chest. “The bullets retrieved were armor-piercing rounds. I’ve already tagged them for evidence along with the deputy’s uniform and weapon.” He pointed to each shot individually. “This was the first shot, entering his lung, which also exited out the back. The second was through the liver. But the third is what killed him.” He tapped the wound over Keen’s chest. “Straight through the heart.”

  Armor-piercing rounds were hard to come by, and if they were purchased recently, it couldn’t be too hard to track down where the kidnapper bought them. Jake pointed to the bullet wound in the side of Keen’s head. “He was already dead when the kidnapper did that?”

  “Yes.”

  Jake removed his hat and ran his fingers through the short crop of thick brown hair. It took a special kind of anger to shoot a dead man in the head, a hate that ran deep. “Anything else?”

  “No.” The doctor squeezed the clipboard tight to his chest. “I’m sorry about your niece, Sheriff. I hope you find her.”