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That? That was something he definitely wanted to see.
“Well, well, plays to our advantage,” a voice said behind him. “We waited until you were assigned to this little guard dog task.”
Sol turned.
“Bell, what in hell you doing here this late?” Guy clocked out at six o’clock every night—unless he was running something for the Wichita Falls fuckers. “I sent you home hours ago, didn’t I?”
“Yes, boss.” He emphasized the words. They both knew the truth. He was a Wichita Falls grunt, just like Sol was. “I am a man on a mission. Sent to follow whichever forensics team went out next.”
Sol stiffened. He knew who had sent him. Bell was nothing but a fucking puppet, after all.
“What’s going on?” Sol despised Luke Bell. This little pissant had no business wearing a badge. And never had. He wouldn’t have made it through the academy, except he was the second cousin of that Hamler out of Wichita Falls. That bitch—coldest creature Sol had ever seen. She’d be the type to eat her own young if it suited her own purpose—and smile while she was doing it.
“We’re going to have a little fun tonight. I’m just here…to follow. We’re going to send a bit of a message to McKellen and Marshall tonight. No more forensics team. Pow, pow, pow. Just here to pick which team is most…accessible. I know Wilson will be thrilled with that one right there. He was hoping for one with more than two techs to illustrate our point, but we can make it work. With those two. After we have a bit of fun first.”
Sol’s blood chilled. He knew what that asshole was saying.
What he meant.
69
It was time. Handley had spent far too long in Finley Creek again. He knew why—he just hadn’t wanted to leave. His sons. His world was darker without Beck now. The toys and books—his youngest son loved books—were stark reminders that he wasn’t daddy any longer. He’d have to find a way to get them to his son soon. Maybe just pack them up—and leave the boxes on Alex’s doorstep?
He tried to console himself with being Grandpa, but he would never get to hold Beck again. Never get to really be Grandpa. Not like this.
Not living like this.
But he had come too far now to just give up.
He was caught up in the memories as he packed up his belongings. Handley traveled light now. Colin just always purchased him whatever he needed whenever they arrived somewhere new. It was more efficient, more expedient that way.
“Sir, the car is ready.” Colin always called him sir. Handley had tried to get the younger man to break that habit, but Colin was a stickler. And loyal. Probably too loyal, for that matter. Handley couldn’t shake the younger man—he’d tried. For Colin’s own good before. But loyal should have been Colin’s middle name.
“Of course.” He had definitely stayed too long in Hughes Heights. Alex had almost seen him that morning. He had been over near Alex’s place, circling the block, waiting to see Heather again. Handley had been driving by the Colesons’ home and the park to see if he could catch a glimpse of her, reassure himself the woman was doing well.
That last time, Alex had been outside. His nephew had looked right into the rear of Handley’s car. If that boy had recognized him…
There had been a beautiful young woman standing next to his nephew. They had been arguing about something. She had favored Heather, but was younger, smaller. More delicate looking. She had been glaring up at Alex and waving her hands in his face to make her point.
Handley had smiled to see her. She had looked quite beautiful there next to one of his most cantankerous nephews. He suspected Alex was fascinated by her as well.
But now? It was time.
He would think about what to do about Heather when he was safely away from Hughes Heights.
That woman was an immense distraction. From the hurt from giving Beck to Houghton, and from the memories.
But it was time to leave again. To put Hughes Heights behind him for a while.
Handley headed to the garage. No use delaying the inevitable.
70
Haldyn locked up the main entrance to the evidence vault and told Stan good night. He was the newest guard on duty now. Elliot Marshall had tried to get them another guard, but the Wichita Falls chief—who was the head of the entire TSP—wasn’t budging on the budget. Rhonda Hamler was a real stick, with a stick up her ass, in Haldyn’s opinion. She’d met the older woman several times and hadn’t been impressed. The woman just didn’t seem to care one bit how the statewide TSP was ran. Just Wichita Falls. Almost obsessively so.
She had overheard Daniel and Elliot talking about Hamler and that very thing before.
Haldyn checked her watch—it was almost nine forty-five. She had one more thing to check before she could clock out. Then she was going to find Jarrod.
