Page 63 of Homicide in Water Creek

“Where are we going?”

“The ranch. Jacks isn’t answering her phone, and no one has seen her for at least an hour.”

“Maybe she just lost track of time,” Maverick said as King flipped the lights on and tore through town. He took the first turn on nearly two wheels, but he didn’t care. He had to find her.

“We can hope that’s all it is,” he said, hanging another left without taking his foot off the accelerator. “But something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

“Like the air is so oppressive you can’t breathe, and if you step out into the night, the darkness will devour you.”

“You feel it too?”

“Yep,” Maverick answered, grabbing the bar by the window to keep from falling over on the next turn. “Whatever is going on here, it’s about to go down. It’s that cop tingle in your spine that tells you to prepare for battle.”

“Agreed,” King said. “I’m one big goosebump right now. We’ve missed something, and now Jacks might be the one to pay for it.”

“We’ll find her,” Maverick said, but King could tell he only said it because it was expected, not because he believed it.

Gunning the accelerator, they tore down the gravel road toward the ranches, then turned left at the fork toward the Double J. He’d start there since she had no reason to be on King’s Korner Ranch.

“What’s the plan?” Maverick asked as he pulled his service weapon from his holster.

“Jackson said she was in the barn. Jump out and check the garage for Little Suzie Sweet Pea. Then meet me at the barn.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said as they hopped out and headed in different directions.

With a bright flashlight in hand, King scanned the ground as he walked, surprised to find tire tracks cutting through the grass toward the exit. Was she just busy grabbing something for Jackson, and that was why she wasn’t answering? If she was driving, she wouldn’t text him back, but that didn’t explain the dead phone. Jacks was religious about charging it, rarely letting it drop below 50% before plugging it in.

Something glinted under his light, and he froze, shining it back at the ground. His heart sank as he bent to pick up the shattered black rectangle. The case confirmed it was her phone. Kneeling, he noticed strange drag marks near the barn.

“Behind you,” Maverick called out. King appreciated the warning, so he didn’t pull his gun on his deputy. “The car is still here,” he said when they were together again.

“I found her phone,” King said, holding it out for him to see.

“Dammit,” Maverick cursed, his weapon still pointed at the ground, but he was twitchy, as if someone was about to ambush them. King felt it too and drew his weapon.

“We need to check the barn. I can see drag marks leading out the back door.” He pointed the flashlight at the ground. Maverick nodded. “You take the left; I’ll take the right. Avoid the drag marks if you can. We may need to test them.”

Maverick brought his gun up to his chest at a nod, and they moved toward the garage, guided only by moonlight. Since Maverick was on the left, he reached out and opened the door for King, letting him into the barn before joining him. They each took a side, clearing the stalls.

“Uh, King,” Maverick said from behind him. “You need to see this.”

With a chill running down his spine, he turned around, noting Maverick squatting on the ground. The only thing that kept Jacks upright was discarded by a stall.

“What the hell?” he asked, crossing the barn in two steps. “Why would she take off her brace?”

“Not only that, but she didn’t close Dakota’s stall.”

“Jacks would never forget to do that,” King said, fear gripping his gut as he pulled the stall closed. Thankfully, the horse hadn’t seemed to notice it was open.

“And look,” Maverick said, motioning him down. “Drag marks from here to the door.”

“That son of a bitch made her take off the brace so she couldn’t walk,” King said, grinding his teeth.

“Chinos?”

“Who else would do this?” King asked, standing.

“The question is, what does he want with her?” Maverick asked.