Apparently her father had been briefed on what law enforcement was allowed to know about the situation and what he should keep to himself. Did he know who these people were, the ones that had taken him?
She was going to have to figure out how to school her features or they would get a huge clue that she couldn’t believe this wild story her father was telling.
Tessa started to nod, just in case they took that as her agreement of what he was saying. In her head she was marveling that yes this sounded completely crazy.
“I need the location of this cabin, preacher.” Sheriff Cartwright wrote down what her father told him, then said, “The old Morris peak place?”
Dad nodded. “That’s the one. They must have found out about it and figured no one would be using it this late in winter.”
“It’s been pretty mild so far.” Sheriff Cartwright said.
“Let’s get back on track, shall we,” Special Agent Danvers said. “Are you able to tell me anything about who the men were, or what they wanted?”
Tessa realized there was a flaw in the plan, because as soon as the sheriff went up to that cabin he was going to find two men with gunshots. Caleb had killed both of them before he helped her load her father into the car so she could get him to the hospital. Or had he stayed behind and cleaned up?
She didn’t like the idea of bad men getting away with crimes. Especially when those crimes involved her family.
Dad shook his head. “I’ve never seen them before. But I knew it wasn’t going to be good for me unless I figured a way out of there.”
The Special Agent shifted and pulled his phone out, showing her father the screen. “Have you seen this man before? Maybe he was one of the men who captured you.”
She couldn’t get a good look at the phone. Her father said, “Isn’t that one of Ian Rourke’s grandsons? They’re twins. Identical. Can’t really tell them apart.”
Tessa bit the inside of her lip. This guy was really here about Caleb?
Special Agent Danvers pulled the phone back. “Caleb Rourke is a wanted fugitive. All we know is that he tried to fake his death six weeks ago. He’s been working for a dangerous criminal for years under the nose of the DEA and we need to find him so that we can finally bring down the man he works for.”
Nathan Kessler.
Caleb had said there were dirty agents. They were the ones who had tried to kill him six weeks ago, severely injuring him. After that, he’d come home to the only place where he could be safe. Those definitely weren’t the actions of a man who was tied to a criminal. It was what someone who wanted to regroup long enough to clear his name and put things right did.
Her dad said, “And you think Caleb had something to do with what happened to me? No one mentioned him when they were holding me captive.”
He didn’t say that he hadn’t seen Caleb. Hopefully they weren’t going to ask Tessa any questions, because she wasn’t sure she would be able to effectively lie. Did she even want to?
If it saved someone’s life to withhold the truth, or even tell a falsehood, did that still count as a sin?
The Special Agent shrugged. “We believe it could be connected to what happened to you. That the men who took you were working with him.”
“Like I said.” Her father lifted his chin. “They didn’t say anything about Ian’s grandson to me.”
The Special Agent said, “If you see Caleb Rourke, I need you to call me immediately. He’s a traitor and we need to bring him in before he hurts a lot of people.”
Chapter Eleven
Caleb hung up the wet towel and pulled on his clean clothes. Jeans and a T-shirt. No idea where his belt was, but he didn’t need it for a long drive in his car. Before the T-shirt slipped down to his waistline he caught a look at the giant bruise on his chest. He would be taking shallow breaths for the next few days thanks to being shot in the vest.
He’d followed up that battle with dragging the three bodies into the cabin and setting fire to it, along with all of the evidence. Not the scenario he wanted because it smacked too much of someone trying to hide their actions. But right now he didn’t need anyone getting a clue about what was going on, or the fact he was here.
Caleb wanted to be hundreds of miles from this part of Montana by the time anyone realized he’d come home.
He sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on his socks and shoes, grabbing the rest of his clothes out of the drawers and shoving them in his duffel bag. He grabbed the phone off the nightstand and dialed his brother’s number. For a second he didn’t care if anyone traced him thanks to the phone call. He needed to connect with his twin.
Caleb listened through the recorded message, an automated one that his brother hadn’t bothered to update. When the tone sounded Caleb said, “Call me back when you get this.”
He ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed, certain his brother would know from his tone that this was urgent.
He didn’t need to leave anything incriminating on a message.
