Truth And Consequences

Hunter sniffed out a couple more spots, two sleeping car closets and two bathrooms. David heard Whitney telling one of the officers that drugs had obviously been transported in those areas, too, since he’d alerted on both.

“No telling how long they’ve been using this route,” she’d said to an older, distinguished-looking man she’d addressed as Chief Jones. “We’ll have to study the video cameras and the passenger manifest, too. Maybe pick up an image or establish a pattern.”

Now David looked up to find her walking toward him with another K9 officer she’d introduced as Ellen Foxcroft, a native of Desert Valley, and her K9 partner, Carly, a golden retriever specializing in tracking.

“Thanks,” Whitney said to her friend after they stopped by Ellen’s vehicle. “So we know based on Carly’s alert and Hawk’s detection of that dusty shoe print that they got into a vehicle here in the lot, as our witness reported.”

Ellen listened to Whitney and then glanced over at David and nodded. “And based on the partial plate your witness here was able to remember, we might be able to find that vehicle soon.” She nodded to David and then opened the door to her vehicle to let Carly inside the back. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Whitney. We’ll compare notes.”

Whitney agreed and then turned to give David a dark scowl, her blue eyes flashing aggravation. Aside from the frown on her pretty face, she looked kind of cute in her uniform. She was buff but she was also dainty, like a fragile flower. Only she was way too fierce to be a flower. One tough female. David’s heart beat an extra thump at the danger she had to put herself through in order to do her job.

Same as her brother.

“Why are you still here?” she asked, suspicion lacing the question. “We’ve cleared the scene, and I have to file an official report. I have your contact information. You’re free to go until we call you in to look at mug shots.”

“I’m waiting on you,” he said, thinking if he told her he’d stayed behind to keep an eye on her, she’d laugh in his face. David didn’t think right now would be a good time to explain that her late brother had sent him here.

“You really don’t need to worry about me,” she retorted. Glancing back at the train and then at her alert partner, she said, “We didn’t find anything else during that last sweep. But we dusted for prints on the seats where we found the one package, and we found some shoe prints, so maybe those clues will turn something up.”

David waited while she gave Hunter water and food from two tin buckets she had clipped inside his wire kennel in her police car.

“You did a good job, Hunter,” she mumbled in a sweet voice that tickled at David’s senses like butterfly wings. “Such a good boy.”

Hunter gave her a grateful stare and started gnawing on a rope throw that David guessed was his chew treat after each find. David gave her an appraising glance and realized how tough she was underneath that porcelain doll skin and sunshine-blond hair.

Satisfied, she turned to David. “Where are you headed?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I’m on some R & R right now, meandering around the West, taking in the sights. Maybe volunteering to help here and there. Thought I’d find a place nearby for the night.”

So I can stay near you for a while.

Her suspicions hit like sunspots all around him. “There’s a bed-and-breakfast in town. The Desert Rose, right off Desert Valley Drive. You might find a room there. Just until you decide which way you want to go.”

Then she gave him a no-nonsense stare. “Of course, you need to stick around anyway in case you can help us identify those two. I’ll talk to the chief and see if we need to call you in to the station tomorrow.”

He nodded, taking advantage of the intro. “Why not now? I can go to the station tonight since I’m in no hurry.”

She checked her watch. “We’ve put out a bulletin on any dark SUVs matching your description, but drug couriers are notorious for switching up vehicles or changing license plates. Look, it’s late, and I have to be somewhere. First thing tomorrow, okay? But if you remember anything before then, here’s my card.”

In spite of everything that had happened, David was almost glad he had a legitimate excuse to stay in town. He pocketed her business card, also grateful for the contact number.

“I did some searches online when I decided to take this trip. I found some information about the Desert Valley Clinic. One article mentioned the need for more funding and more doctors. They use volunteer doctors, physician’s assistants, and nurses for the free services they offer.” He’d have to sign a waiver to get a temporary license to practice at free clinics in the state. “Thought I might volunteer there while I’m here. Don’t want to get rusty.”

“And exactly why are you here when you could be anywhere in the world right now?” she asked, her eyes scanning the train again before she whipped her gaze back to him. “Because I’ve never heard of anyone wanting to spend downtime in Desert Valley or wanting to volunteer to work with Dr. Pennington.”

David braced himself and stored up her pointed notations for future reference. He’d have to be careful with this one. Whitney would keep digging until she had him figured out. “Well—”

But Whitney Godwin was no longer listening to him. She held up her finger and then, giving Hunter a silent command, drew her weapon and took off in a crouched run toward the empty train.

* * *

A man scurried toward the train like a lizard, his head down and his back hunched. He wore a burgundy hat and dark shades.

Whitney spotted him when she glanced back while talking with David. She’d have to figure out the medic’s angle and his story later. Right now, she intended to nab two criminals. With her gun drawn and Hunter waiting for her command as he trailed along, she hurried around the stopped train and looked up and down the tracks.

Nothing. No one. Had she only imagined seeing someone? No, she’d seen the man, and his description had fit the one David Evans and Mr. Gallagher had given her. She hadn’t slept much last night, but she wasn’t imagining things. Fatigue weighed on her like a blanket of dry heat, but she kept her cool and went on with doing her job. Being a rookie meant she always had to go the extra mile. Being a female police officer meant she had to work twice as hard as the men around her.

She checked the front of the stopped train again and then walked by the narrow openings between the four small passenger cars, and headed to the car where she and Hunter had found a kilo of heroin earlier.

“C’mon, Hunter,” she commanded. Hunter went in ahead of her, doing his job with practiced excitement. He sniffed and moved on, sniffed again, dug around some and then kept up the search.

Could one of these men have come back for the package they’d dropped? Or did they have more stashed elsewhere?

Thinking it was mighty bold of this one to creep back so soon after they’d taken off earlier, Whitney glanced around. They’d allowed the few passengers traveling west to get back on, but some of the passenger cars were still empty.

Easy for someone to slip in and hide.

Whitney moved behind Hunter up the aisle, careful to search every compartment and seat. When they didn’t find anything, she shook her head and wiped at the sweat dripping down her brow. It would be so nice to get home and have a long shower. But she had reports to file and other obligations to consider.

And one very good-looking medic hanging around for no good reason. Her suspicions regarding David Evans increased by the minute. His excuse for being here didn’t make sense to her practical way of thinking. And yet he’d put his own life on the line to help the injured attendant, and he’d cooperated fully with the police. He’d answered her questions without hesitation.

Maybe she was too tired to have any clear thoughts right now.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said to Hunter, her gut telling her the criminal was still lurking somewhere near the train.

They exited the train and she did one last sweep, checking between the sleek cars, looking underneath, turning toward the scraggly woods.

Then Hunter let out a guttural growl and stood staring at a spot at the end of the train.

“Go ahead,” Whitney commanded as she drew her gun and hurried down the side of the tracks near a copse of ponderosa pines, dry shrubs and chaparrals. A few spring wildflowers peeked out in bright orange and red, interspersed underneath a scraggly cactus bush, but she was interested only in seeing what Hunter wanted her to see.

Hunter took off, silent but steady, toward the scattered rocks and shrubs.

Whitney followed. When Hunter alerted again, she crouched down near a jutting rock. Too late to call for backup. She’d have to do this on her own. Bracing for action, she whirled out from the rock with her weapon ready only to find a dirty black shirt lying on the ground.

Then Hunter started barking. She heard a click behind her. “Halt the dog and drop the gun.”

Whitney did as he asked. “Stay,” she said to Hunter in a commanding voice, her insides like jelly. Then she slowly laid her gun on the ground, her mind racing. This could go wrong if she lost her cool. Hunter growled low, but he wouldn’t attack without her order.

Could she do this? Could she risk having her K9 partner shot in midair? Hunter was still in training, too. What if he got hurt because of her carelessness?

“Stay,” she told him again, her tone firm in spite of her trembling nerves.

She glanced back and found a handgun pointed at her head by a tall bearded man wearing a black baseball cap and dark shades. But this wasn’t the man she’d seen running beside the train. That man had been wearing the dark red baseball cap and had shorter hair. Which meant he was probably moving through the train car, looking for any lost packages of heroin. They’d set a trap.

“What do you want?” she asked the man who held his gun pointed at her.

“Keep telling the dog to heel,” he whispered in a rasp that burned her neck.

Hunter stood growling, ready to attack.

“Stay,” Whitney commanded, her pulse pumping adrenaline through her body. “Stay.”

Hunter didn’t move, but the big dog’s whole body shook with aggression, his bared teeth visible.

“One move from you, lady, and that dog and you both die.” He twisted her around and jerked her arm with a brutal grasp, his rancid breath hissing against her ear.

“I’m not a lady,” she retorted. “I’m a police officer.”

The stench of his sweat assaulted her. Sweat and fear. “And a nosy one,” he replied on a huff of air. “Shoulda kept going.”

He pushed her deeper into the sparse, dry landscape, kicking up dust that made her want to cough. Whitney glanced around, her breath settling. No one had noticed them on the far side of the big train car, and now the train would soon be leaving the station. She wouldn’t let this criminal get to her, but she wasn’t going to die here, either. She’d get out of this. Somehow.

She’d acted too hastily and made a rookie mistake. She hadn’t been careful, and she hadn’t called for backup. Hunter would do her bidding, but she had to find the right moment. She’d like to blame her lack of attention to detail on the mysterious medic who’d appeared here and stayed with her. But Whitney wasn’t one for pushing off blame on others. This was her mistake.

The man kicked her gun behind him, then shoved her into a cluster of pines and rock. Praying that someone would see what was happening, Whitney kept thinking ahead. He could be bringing her out here for only one reason.

Trying to memorize all the details around her, she took a deep breath. Black Hat had a tattoo on his lower arm. Some sort of intricate symbol. An arrow and three hanging feathers with what looked like a face in the arrow. Could it be the same symbol David Evans had mentioned seeing over the license plate of the SUV?

“So what’s your plan?” she asked in a matter-of-fact tone that belied the tremors running through her body. “Where’s your buddy?”

“Shut up so I can think,” he said into her ear. “We got surprised today, so I have to clean up this mess before the boss finds out.”

“Who’s your boss? If you agree to cooperate, we might be able to help you out. Think about it. Your boss won’t help you.”

His voice shook. “Right. I’m not buying that, so shut up.”

Whitney could take advantage of his nervous energy.

She prayed for calm and clarity. She’d been one of the best in her class when she’d returned to training this year, so she centered her thoughts on what she’d been taught. Determined to stay alive, she concentrated on her sweet five-month-old baby girl, Shelby. The baby she’d fought so hard to have. Alone. The baby her brother had never heard about because he’d died before she’d found the courage to tell him.

Whitney would regret for the rest of her life that Lucas would never know his niece. But she would fight for her child’s sake, too.

She was at her best when she was cornered and alone.

The man shoved her toward the tumbleweeds and scrub brush that surrounded the scant trees and jutting rocks. “Let’s get this done and over.”

The train now hissed like a big snake. He was waiting for the train to leave. It would serve as a cover when he shot her. So that meant his friend must have made it off the train without detection.

Adrenaline pumped a new energy through Whitney’s system. She had to act fast or she’d never see Shelby again.

She went limp so she could use her body to get away from the man holding her. It worked. Her body fell against the man, causing his hands to go up and giving her enough time to slip a booted foot behind his left calf and bring him down. But on the way down, she heard a grunt and then felt a blur of air rushing by her head. The next thing she knew, the man who’d been holding her let out a yelp of pain and dropped at her feet, his gun sliding over dry dirt and skidding to a stop a few feet away.

Surprised, she watched in amazement as a now familiar form crashed over the gunman who’d been about to shoot her and held him pinned to the ground.

THREE

The medic! She’d forgotten all about him. With a grunt, he lifted his right arm and hit the man on the head with a big jagged rock. Which didn’t do much in the way of injuries, so it wouldn’t keep him down long. But it gave David time to get up and Whitney enough time to react. Flipping the man over, she motioned to David, and he helped her control the man on the ground.

Hunter growled and danced, eyeing her for instructions.

“Guard,” Whitney ordered as she scrambled up, her breath leaving her body. David helped her, steadying her until she caught her breath and searched for her radio. The dog stood over the moaning man.

“He’ll bite you if I tell him to,” Whitney informed the man. “It’s up to you, but I strongly suggest you stay still and remain on your stomach.”

David glanced around and then spotted her gun. He grabbed it and held it on the man, who was now curled up with Hunter hovering over him. “Are you okay?” he asked Whitney.

She nodded and then reached out to David. “Give me the gun.”

David looked uncertain and then shook his head. “I’d feel better if you get him cuffed.”

Whitney debated and then nodded while she leaned over the suspect. “Now it’s your turn to stay still, or I will let my partner here tear you to shreds.”

Panic poured off the criminal on the ground. His eyes widened in fear, his gaze darting here and there. “My partner will be here soon.”

“No, he won’t,” David said. “I saw him heading the other way about five minutes ago. He left you.”

And the train was finally leaving the station. Once it was well up the tracks in a fading echo, the desert went quiet. Whitney reached for her cuffs, using her strength to hold the man while she tried to slap the restraints against his wrists.

But the man on the ground turned desperate. He rolled and came at her with both feet kicking, causing her to flip in the air before she ever got the first cuff secured. Hunter barked and danced while Whitney felt herself sliding on dry rock, her knees and hands burning with heat and friction, the cuffs slipping out of her grip. The criminal and she both reached and grabbed for the handgun he’d lost before, the weapon out of reach between them. Hunter went into frenzied barking while Whitney fought with a person who had twice her strength.

David grabbed the man and lifted him away before the criminal could get to the gun. This time, David put a booted foot on the man’s chest and held her gun to the man’s head.

“Don’t even think about it,” David said, his tone deep and full of rage. “I’ll shoot you in the leg and damage you for life. If you doubt me, I can show you which artery I’ll hit. You might bleed to death before help can come.”

The man spewed out a round of nasty words, but Whitney saw him eyeing David as if he didn’t believe him. She hustled into action, grabbed her lost radio and took her gun back from David.

She motioned to the man. “On your stomach again.”

This criminal would not give in. He gave both of them a quick glance and then stared at Hunter before he jumped up, knocked her down again and then sprinted across the rocks with all his might. David threw his body over hers, holding her gun aimed at the man who was now running toward the open tracks.

Pain shooting up her arms, she commanded Hunter to “Bite,” and then watched the man getting away, Hunter chasing him.

A black SUV slid up next to the tracks, its tires burning rubber and slinging dirt and rocks. The driver opened the passenger-side door. “Hurry. We’ll take care of this later.”

The man sped up, but Hunter nipped at his pants and tore part of the left pants leg away before the suspect threw himself inside the vehicle. It took off while he was still climbing inside. Hunter stood with the torn piece of fabric at his feet.

“Hunter, stay!” Whitney screamed at David, “Let me up!”

He rolled away, his gaze following the disappearing SUV.

“Give me my gun!” Whitney lifted herself up and started after them.

But a strong hand grabbed her and tugged her back.

David shook his head. “Let’s get out of here,” he said into her ear. “It’s too dangerous.”

“No,” she said, disbelief making her angry. “I have to go after them. It’s my job, and you’re hindering me from doing it.”

He held her there, his eyes as rich as dark leather. “They’ll kill you.”

If he thought that would hold her back, he was mistaken. Whitney pushed up again. Every muscle in her body hurt, and her skin burned with abrasions. “I said, let me go. Now!”

Hunter sensed she might be in danger and growled, his black eyes centered on David.

“I don’t like this,” she said. “Hunter’s reacting to my stress. He thinks you’re hurting me.”

But David wasn’t listening. He glared across the train tracks, watching, waiting, his hand holding her arm. “They’ve stopped. They might be coming back. They’ll ambush you again.”

Whitney took in a deep breath and called Hunter to come. She didn’t want to agree with the man, but she’d already messed up on so many levels. She couldn’t do this alone. Pushing back anger and frustration, she glared at him.

“I have to report in,” she said, reaching for her radio as she sank against a rock. After giving the dispatcher her location and a description of the men and the vehicle, she shifted away from David, her body still shaky. “We’ll up the search and the BOLO alert.”

When she tried to stand, one of her legs buckled. David tucked her weapon into his waistband and then scooped her up into his arms and started walking.

“Put me down,” Whitney shouted as David carried her through the heavy brush next to the train tracks. He might be tall and lanky, but the man had surprising strength. She should turn her weapon on him.

But when they heard a vehicle’s engine revving up down the tracks, Whitney looked up and into David’s eyes.

“They’re back,” he said. “We need to hide and wait for help.”

Taking her to a small copse of spindly pines, he gestured to a huge jagged rock, and they crouched behind it, David in front of her as if he were waiting for a battle to begin.

And maybe a battle was about to begin. These men were desperate and dangerous.

Whitney glared at him, her breath coming in huffs. “You should have stayed out of this. They know you. They’ve seen your face. That’s why they turned around. They have to eliminate any witnesses.”

He inhaled and stared through the bushes. “Yes, they saw my face when they came close to shooting me the first time. I’m trying to keep you from going after them because they know you now, too.”

Whitney struggled to find footing, his words sobering. “I don’t need your help. I mean it. Let me go.”

When they heard hurried footsteps, they stopped arguing.

David glanced at her, relieved. “That’s probably one of your patrol officers coming to check on us.” Then he gave her an imploring stare. “You heard those men. They’ll keep coming. To deal with this problem.”

Whitney had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t referring to the other bags of heroin.

* * *

“You shouldn’t have interfered.”

David glanced over at the woman who’d practically forced him to get into her vehicle earlier so she could take him in to give a statement and look at mug shots. After she’d been confronted by the same two men a second time, both Whitney and Chief Jones had decided now would be a good time to identify them.

After they’d both been checked over by the EMTs at the scene and she’d gone over the details with Chief Jones and handed over the suspect’s handgun and the torn fabric from his pants as evidence, David had been questioned. Then she’d brought him to the police station, where it seemed the whole rookie team had gathered for some sort of briefing.

David had noticed at least five other K9 officers, four men and one other woman, plus several older officers milling around. For a small-town department, Desert Valley sure had a lot of willing law enforcement personnel right now.

And they’d all checked him out in one way or another.

He’d glanced at mug shots for what seemed like hours. He’d also described what he’d remembered about the symbol he’d seen on the license plate of the SUV. “It looked like an arrow, pointing up. And feathers. Three or four, maybe, dangling down.” There was something else, but he couldn’t remember what he was missing.

“We get a lot of that around here,” Whitney’s fellow officer, Eddie Harmon, had said with a shrug. “And we don’t have an artist on site to sketch it out for us.”

“I saw a tattoo on one of the men’s arms,” Whitney had told David and Eddie. “Could be the same.” She’d glanced over at a tall female officer with short brown hair who had an Amazonian-type build. “Louise, maybe you can do some research on tattoos for us, based on the description.”

“I’ll see what I can find,” the woman had replied.

David had gone back to searching the mug shots, but he was glad Whitney had verified what he’d seen. Maybe it was some sort of cartel symbol or a popular Southwestern tattoo.

But he couldn’t match any of the faces in the books to the two men who’d caused all the trouble on the train. Now he wondered if they’d both disguised themselves.

“Go home, Godwin,” the chief, a tall man with a paunch and thick gray hair, had finally commanded. “And stay home and rest tomorrow morning. You look a little beat up, and I noticed you’ve been favoring that left leg.”

Whitney had frowned, but she hadn’t argued with the man. Instead, she’d made a couple of phone calls and seemed anxious to leave the station.

After the two hours or so they’d spent together, she’d also offered to give David a ride to the nearest inn. “It’s on the way,” she’d explained. “So get in and don’t argue with me.”