“Did anyone call old man Cooper to find out if his son was at home?”

  Sullenger and Guthrie exchanged a look.

  “What?” Wyatt demanded.

  “He’s not at home. Or any of his usual hangouts,” Sullenger explained. “We called around as soon as we recognized the truck was his.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Wyatt braced his hands on his hips and turned all the way around in the road. There was nothing out here. Woods and water. They had searched most of this area already.

  But she’d been here tonight...or at least she’d been headed here.

  “We need to talk,” Womack said to Wyatt.

  Wyatt turned to Womack. Judging by the look on the man’s face, things were going to get worse.

  “Give us some space,” Wyatt instructed the other two. Sullenger and Guthrie walked over to her Civic and leaned against it, looking less than comfortable.

  “What the hell’s going on, Womack?”

  “It’s my son.” Womack blew out a heavy breath. “He got into some trouble with drugs.” The deputy turned his face away as if he couldn’t bear to look Wyatt in the eye now. “I’d already spent every dime I had in savings trying to get him rehabilitated.”

  Wyatt was aware that the man’s son had been to rehab a couple of times, but he’d had no idea the trouble had started again. More importantly, why was he telling Wyatt this now?

  Womack shrugged. “I was desperate to help him. Clay said he could help. He knew the thug my boy had gotten involved with. Had some influence. He could make it right.”

  Tension coiled around Wyatt’s chest. “What did it cost you?”

  “For a long time, nothing.” Womack met his gaze. “But he never failed to remind me that there would come a day when he would need a favor from me. And that if I didn’t pay up when that time came, my boy would end up facedown in a river somewhere. Clay said all he had to do was give the word and the trouble would be back at my door.”

  Wyatt couldn’t speak. If he said a word, he would blast the man. He had to hear him out first. Keep him talking until he knew everything.

  “When that crazy bastard tried to kill his wife, I got a call from one of my buddies up in Laurel.”

  “Are you talking about Jamison?” A band tightened around Wyatt’s chest.

  Womack nodded. “There was a picture found in Jamison’s car. The kind you print off the Internet from articles you’ve Googled. Stuff like that.”

  “What picture?” Wyatt didn’t recall hearing anything about any pictures.

  “A picture of Addy.”

  Rage roared inside Wyatt. “And you kept this information from the investigation?” Keeping his hands at his waist and off Womack’s throat took every ounce of willpower he possessed.

  “There were dates written on the page. Address. Occupation. Indications that Addy was adopted. Stuff like that. Apparently Jamison had been researching Addy for some reason. But it wasn’t relevant to the case or to what he’d done to his wife.”

  “What did you do with this information?” Wyatt demanded, his jaw clenched so hard he could hardly utter the words.

  “My buddy in Laurel recognized Addy and gave me a call. I convinced him that this was sensitive information and that maybe we should keep it between the two of us and that I would handle it. Like I said, it didn’t appear to have anything to do with what the bastard had done to his wife.”

  Womack shrugged. “I figured Clay would be more than glad to get his hands on this information. I didn’t see how it could hurt anything. Addy was long gone from here anyway. And Clay would like nothing better than to figure out a way to prove she wasn’t a legitimate heir so he did all the inheriting. I’d heard him talk that shit before. I was convinced it couldn’t hurt anything, but it could help...save my son. I’d give the info to Clay and my son would be off the hook.”

  Wyatt restrained the urge to beat the hell out of the guy. “But then Addy showed up here with info on the Prescott case,” Wyatt suggested, his blood boiling in his veins. “That made you a little nervous, didn’t it?”

  Womack didn’t answer at first. Just stood there looking like the dog he was. “Yeah, it made me start thinking, but there wasn’t any connection. Seemed like a coincidence that she showed up not long after the photo was found in Laurel.”

  “Then Arnold went missing and you started to think maybe this wasn’t a coincidence.” The idea that a man with this many years in law enforcement would do such a thing sickened Wyatt. What the hell had he been thinking?

  “It wasn’t until you called from Jones County and confirmed Jamison was the one behind these abductions that I knew for sure. I begged Clay to let it go. To leave Addy alone,” Womack admitted, then shook his head. “Her momma’s dead. And she don’t need no more bullshit. But he wouldn’t listen.”

  Wyatt stilled. “What do you mean, you told him to leave Addy alone?”

  Womack plowed a hand through his hair. “He was the one who slashed her tires. He slashed her clothes and left that message on the motel room mirror.” He gestured to the road. “Evidently, he’s still got a plan to have his revenge.”

  Revenge. Jesus Christ. “Do you have any idea what he’s planning to do?” Fear ignited deep in Wyatt’s arteries.

  Womack shook his head. “He just said it was a joke. A way to mess with her head and get his revenge for what she did to his brother. He swore it had nothing to do with the missing women. That’s all he told me.”

  “I can’t believe you’re scared of that piece of shit.” Wyatt shook his head. “That’s pretty damned pathetic, Deputy.”

  “When you have a son,” Womack challenged, “you’ll understand.”

  Wyatt wanted to kill him. “One more question, how did Clay know about the letters? The kind of paper? Glue? How did he learn those details?” Wyatt already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear the man say it out loud.

  Womack looked away.

  “Deputy Sullenger.” Wyatt glared at Womack. “Read Deputy Womack his rights and put him in lockup.”

  Sullenger looked less than happy about the assignment but she said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Guthrie,” Wyatt said to his other deputy, “I want you to get the whole department out of bed. I want everyone here in twenty minutes. Call Chief Parker and get his people here, too. We’re going to find Addy and that piece-of-shit cousin of hers.”

  Guthrie pulled out his cell and started making calls. “Wyatt, wait,” Womack said even as Sullenger took him by the arm. “I can help.”

  Wyatt was so pissed off and disgusted with the man he was lucky he hadn’t beaten the crap out of him right here. “What the hell can you do?”

  “I know a lot of Clay’s friends and,” he shrugged, “contacts. Let me check around and see if any of them have some ideas on where he might take Addy.” Womack jerked his head in the direction of Clay’s truck. “If he asked her to meet him here, they can’t be that far from where he left his truck. Chances are, when he’s finished with whatever the hell this is he’s planning on coming back for it.”

  That was the first thing Wyatt should have considered. This was way too personal for him...he wasn’t on his toes. And Addy needed him to do this right. “All right.” To Sullenger he said, “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

  Sullenger nodded.

  Wyatt closed his eyes and prayed for Addy’s safety. Whatever Clay was up to, surely he wouldn’t kill her. He was a dirtbag, that was for certain. But Wyatt wasn’t sure he was capable of killing anyone.

  The old man, now that was a different story. He might just be capable of anything, despite the good deed he’d done for Addy’s mother all those years ago.

  Addy. His body ached with agony. Wyatt refused to even entertain the notion of losing her again.

  Not again.

  He would find her.

  And when he did, he was going to give her a good shaking for scaring the hell out of him. And Clay, well, Clay was going to pay for a long time to come.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  11:58 p.m.

  “If you’re lost,” Adeline threatened, “I swear to God I’ll kick your ass.”

  “I know where I’m going,” Clay groused.

  She hadn’t taken his weapon. If they came up on Jamison, they would both need firepower.

  She hoped like hell that wasn’t going to turn out to be a bad decision. Unfortunately, this whole night was leaning in that direction.

  Her phone had buzzed a dozen times. Wyatt. When she determined whether or not Clay was telling the truth, she would give Wyatt their location, or at least the general direction they had taken. She sure as hell wasn’t going to have him dragging all of the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department out here if this was some bullshit Clay had trumped up. He didn’t appear to be drunk. Stone-cold sober, the best she could tell. But she knew her cousin too well. This could be some sort of elaborate hoax designed to make her look bad or to scare the shit out of her. If that proved to be the case, maybe she would kill him.

  “That’s it.” Clay pointed through the trees to a small shack maybe fifty yards ahead.

  “You’re sure?” The shack was dark. Moonlight filtered through the trees, making the outline visible in the near darkness. But she couldn’t see shit else. Singing River whispered in the background, the sound much quieter than in the summer and fall.

  “I’m positive. That’s it,” he urged.

  Adeline considered the options. It was best to go in under the assumption that Jamison was inside. “You move wide around the back. I’ll make my way to the front. Keep your eyes and ears open.” She sent him a hard look. “And for God’s sake, don’t shoot anywhere near my position.”

  He nodded. “Got it.”

  This still felt wrong. But maybe it was the whole idea of working with Clay. The last time she’d been involved with a member of the Cooper clan, Gage had ended up dead.

  Some part of her kept screaming setup!

  If there was any chance Prescott and Arnold were in there, she was seeing this thing through.

  Clay disappeared into the darkness. Adeline did the same. She hunkered low, moved through the saw grass and underbrush. She wasn’t going to make being a target easy for either of those bastards. She cringed at the sounds Clay continued to make. Damn it. Did the guy not know how to move with any stealth?

  Making scarcely a sound, she eased closer to the front of the shack. Anticipation seared in her blood, making her heart pump faster. There appeared to be a window on the side closest to her position, but it had been boarded shut.

  When she’d reached the west side of the structure, she moved in close, flattened against the rustic wall. She held her breath and listened. The cold night air stirred, rubbing the branches of trees together. The constant hum of the river filled the air with its melody beyond that. Clay muttered a curse, the sound carried in the darkness. Dumbass.

  No sound inside the shack.

  Keeping her back against the wall, she eased around to the front. The door didn’t have a knob or lock. Just a loop of rope hooked over a wooden dowel protruding next to the opening.

  Still no noise other than those nature made. She crept to the left side of the door, reached across it and unlooped the rope. She held her breath. Still not the slightest noise inside.

  Using her left hand, she slid her flashlight from her back pocket. She slammed the butt of the flashlight into the door, sending it flying inward.

  No reaction.

  If this place was deserted, Clay Cooper was so screwed.

  She rolled her body toward the edge of the door opening, roved the flashlight’s beam over the interior.

  The light pooled on a body.

  Adeline froze...let the light linger there. Definitely female. Blond hair. Her pulse rate jumped into overdrive. Victim was breathing. But she hadn’t moved.

  She shifted the light to the left.

  Eyes, wide with fear, reflected the light.

  The woman whimpered as best she could with the gag stuffed into her mouth.

  Blond. Adeline studied her face. Cherry Prescott.

  And she was alive. Relief flooded Adeline.

  With one last look around the area behind her, Adeline moved into the shack. “I’m Detective Cooper,” she announced. “I’m here to help you.” Ignoring the desperate sounds Prescott made, Adeline checked the small room. The smell of feces and urine were overwhelming. Feeding bowls sat on the floor between the women. At least he hadn’t left them here to starve.

  Adeline, her weapon still palmed, moved to where Prescott huddled on the floor. “Don’t be afraid. You’re gonna be okay now,” she said gently as she surveyed the woman for injury. Then she moved to Penny Arnold who had started to move about. “Ms. Arnold?” She scanned her for injury, as well. No visible injuries.

  Arnold struggled to a sitting position and started sobbing.

  Adeline inspected the shackles. Attached to a wooden support beam with a length of chain and a heavy-duty lock. She would need tools to get them loose. Or a key.

  Time to call in reinforcements. Adeline knelt down, one knee on the floor, the other braced for rapid movement. She set her flashlight on the floor and pulled out her phone. She hit the call button. “I’m calling help,” she assured the two women now staring at her.

  Prescott started to whine frantically.

  “Hold on,” Adeline urged, “we’re going to get you out of here.”

  The desperate sounds escalated. A creak splintered the air. Her weapon leveled, Adeline twisted at the waist to see if it was Clay.

  Clay kicked her in the side of the head.

  Addy lost her balance. Her phone flew from her hand and spun across the floor. She rolled to her back just as he moved over her. She kicked him in the crotch.

  Clay howled.

  She shot to her feet. Though he was still standing, he struggled to unfold his body.

  “What the hell are you doing?” She rammed the weapon into the side of his head.

  Clay laughed. “He’s coming.” He looked up at her, nodded knowingly. “He comes back every night about this time and you’re going to be here waiting for him. The problem is, you’re going to be dead already.”

  “Funny.” She smirked. “I’m the one with the gun to your damned head.”

  Clay groaned, straightened up. His right arm came up, and the business end of the weapon he’d been hiding between his legs leveled on Adeline’s chest.

  “Well, well.” She took a step away from him. “You sure you know how to use that thing?”

  He swung the barrel toward Prescott. “How about I shoot her right now and we’ll see who flinches.”

  “You’re bluffing.” Adeline’s finger twitched with the urge to pull the trigger. She couldn’t kill him. Goddamn it. Going down that road again was out of the question. But they had the proverbial Mexican standoff.

  She could shoot him in the leg. Or maybe the dick.

  He drew the hammer back. “Say good-bye to your big sister, Addy.” Prescott tried to scream; the sound came out strangled and muffled. “Now give me your gun or I’m going to shoot that pathetic bitch.”

  Adeline placed her weapon on the floor and kicked it across the room. “You want it, you go get it.” She wouldn’t need her weapon to take care of this dumbass. All she needed was for him to put down his guard. Now that she was unarmed, he would.

  Clay shifted the aim of his .357 to her. “In a minute. Now get over there on the floor with your sisters.” He snickered. “I always knew you couldn’t be one of us. Guess I was right.”

  “Whatever you say.” Moving backward so she didn’t have to turn her back on him, Adeline kept her hands up. “What do you think you’re accomplishing here, Clay? You owe this guy something? Maybe he sucked your dick once?”

  He laughed. “Have your fun while you can, Addy. This was all meant to be. I knew some freak was watching you. The cops found your picture in his car. I just didn’t know he had anything to do with this until I came out here to see if this place was still standing.” He gestured to Prescott and Arnold. “Then I overheard your crazy old momma telling my daddy about how someone had found out the truth about you being adopted. When you showed up, I knew this was my chance to see that you got what you deserved.”

  Adeline let the remark about her mother go, she would get him for that later. “Why don’t you let Prescott and Arnold go? This is really between me and you, right?”

  “No way.” He shook his stupid head. “What I’m doing is getting you the hell out of my life for good. You’re going to die tonight, cuz.” He smiled. “That psycho brother of yours would never have gotten to you the way Henderson has been all over you. I just made his job a little simpler. Works out great for me, I get rid of you and nobody ever has to know I had anything to do with it. That keeps the old man off my back.”

  “Well, aren’t you smart,” Adeline mused. “I guess everyone’s been wrong about you. You aren’t the stupid brother.”

  His lips twisted. “At least I won’t be dead. It’s so sad,” he mocked. “The police will finally find the three of you and you’ll all be dead. Too bad, too sad.”

  Adeline wondered briefly where the boy was as she eased over a little more. She hoped if he wasn’t here that meant he was safe. When she’d positioned herself in front of the women, she asked, “You’ve got me where you want me, Clay. I guess you can go.” Time to use a little reverse psychology. “You wouldn’t want to risk getting caught here if Wyatt shows up. You know it’ll only be a matter of time before they find us.”

  He moved his head back and forth. “But he will get here first. It’s almost time. He’s always on time.” Clay hitched his head toward the door. “I’ll just hang around out there in the woods so I can see his reaction when he finds you here.” He laughed. “I wish I had a camera. A bittersweet family reunion. Now sit,” he ordered Addy.

  She kept her hands up as she dropped to her knees on the floor. She sat back, drawing one knee up in a stance that would allow her to shoot to her feet more quickly.