Appalachian Abduction

“Whoever was in that vehicle? Yes. What’s this all about?”

Charlotte lifted her chin and carefully picked her way through the strewn herbs and glass shards. “Sorry, Miss Glory. I’ll pay, of course. Where’s your broom? I’ll sweep up the mess.”

Glory shooed her off, then bent over and whispered something in Charlotte’s ear before addressing them both. “I’ll take care of this. You go on, now, and do what you have to do.”

Charlotte rummaged through the backpack and dug out a wad of bills. She lifted a hand at the sight of Glory’s open mouth. “Take it. I insist. And thanks for your help.”

James grabbed a jug of tea and followed Charlotte outside. He took her arm. “What really brings you to Lavender Mountain?”

Chapter Three (#u27e0c70b-e09e-54b4-956f-35c9136a991b)

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re stubborn as hell?” Charlotte grumbled. She climbed into James’s truck, slowly swinging her injured leg into the cab, and then eased back onto the leather seat with a sigh. She wouldn’t admit it for a month’s salary, but running from his office had been a mistake. Her first instinct, born from years of busting street gangs and drug rings, was to flee until she’d formed a plan and was ready to strike.

James got in beside her and slammed his door shut. “Start talking.”

“You’re taking me back to my truck, right? I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“That wasn’t the deal. What’s your game?”

She opened her mouth, and he started the engine. “Don’t lie,” he said. “You’re not running from some ex.”

She had no choice. Once he ran the gun paperwork, he’d know. “I’m an undercover cop. Atlanta PD Special Crimes Unit.”

He shot her an assessing glance, then pulled the truck away from the station and into town. “What are you doing ninety miles from the big city? Anything going on around here, we should be part of the investigation. Atlanta’s urban area may sprawl for miles, but this is still our jurisdiction.”

He might have her cornered, but she didn’t have to tell him the whole truth. “I don’t suppose you’d accept the proposition that the less you know, the better?”

James snorted.

“Right. Okay, I’m investigating a missing girl and have reason to believe she’s being held in the Falling Rock community.”

His brow furrowed. “Why? Give me details.”

“How can I be sure you’re trustworthy? Well, not necessarily you,” she amended. “But what about your boss and coworkers? Any of them could compromise—”

“I trust the sheriff explicitly,” he ground out. “Harlan Sampson is as honest as they come, and I’m not saying that because he’s my brother-in-law. I’ve known him all my life. We’ve been friends since third grade.”

“That’s fine for you, but it doesn’t assure me. Far as my research shows, the previous sheriff is doing time for twenty years of covering up moonshine and murders.”

“And Harlan has been working for over a year now to clean up the force,” James said with a scowl.

“Are you sure he’s finished? Most criminals don’t work in a vacuum.”

“Two officers were fired. That’s out of an office with a dozen employees. I have complete faith in the ones remaining.”

“But you’ve only worked with them six months.” She’d done a cursory background search on every officer.

He shot her a glance, eyes widened in surprise. “You’ve done your homework,” he noted, driving away from the downtown area and starting the drive up a winding mountain road.

“I know you’ve done a couple tours in Afghanistan. Army Special Forces.”

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” he said coolly. “I know nothing about you. Yet.”

“No doubt you’ll check the gun paperwork and confirm my story. I’d do the same in your position.”

“So why did you break into my cabin? Couldn’t you survey the Falling Rock area more directly?”

Typical cop. A rookie one, no less. “That’s the difference between working undercover versus running routine patrols and answering callouts. Direct isn’t best in my line of work. I picked your cabin because it’s within walking distance of where I can get a behind-the-scenes view of most of the Falling Rock houses.”

“What do you expect to find? Are you hoping by some miracle that the missing girl is going to step outside? I don’t foresee that happening.”

Charlotte squirmed. Put that way, it did sound like a lame plan. But then, he didn’t know all the particulars. He didn’t know that she was investigating a ring, and as such, she hoped to observe vehicles pulling into backyards to hide the drivers’ comings and goings. Even license plate numbers would provide worthwhile leads to pursue. So let him think she was foolish. The less she revealed, the less interference and lower possibility of word getting back to the traffickers that she was closing in on their operation.

“Don’t make this hard,” James warned. “Either voluntarily give us the information so we can help find this missing girl, or drag your feet until we force the information out of your supervisors. Your choice.”

Damn it. If he contacted Atlanta, she’d be ordered—again—to stop searching. And that was the best-case scenario. Worst case, it was entirely possible she’d lose her job. But she’d weighed the risks from the start, and the decision had been easy. Jenny was her best friend’s daughter. If she didn’t try her best, how could she live with that knowledge? How would she be able to face her best friend for the rest of her days? She couldn’t.

“If I tell you more, can we keep it between us?”

“No way. I can’t keep this secret from Harlan and the others. Like you said, I’m pretty new here. Everyone else will have more experience. Don’t you want the full resources the sheriff’s office can provide?”

Hell, yeah. No question. Charlotte gazed out the passenger window, where shadows already lengthened with a hint of the coming twilight. To his credit, James didn’t press her as she weighed the pros and cons of telling him everything. But it wasn’t much of a choice, really. She had a bum leg now, and she’d been seen by the bodyguards who were obviously protecting the traffickers.

“I do need your help,” she admitted. “But if you go to the sheriff, he’ll contact my boss for verification of my story, and then all hell will break loose.”

James’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re on the up-and-up, what’s the problem?”

“I’ve been suspended.” There, she’d said it. Six years of exemplary service, and now she was in the hot seat. James would think she was a total screwup.

He pulled into the cabin’s driveway, shut off the engine and faced her, arms folded. “Why?”

She jerked her head from his piercing gaze and stared down at her folded hands. “Because I won’t give up on this case. That’s why. The official charge against me is insubordination.”

“Go on,” he urged at the beat of silence between them.

Charlotte lifted her head. Officer Tedder had been more than patient. He could have arrested her for trespassing, or even decided she was too much trouble and not searched for her after she’d fled. But he’d found her and coaxed her into getting help for her injury. A good man, she decided. Perhaps even a trustworthy one. She’d been burned before, but mostly, her gut and intuition had served her well in a dangerous profession.

“Can we talk somewhere other than here? Sitting in the open in your truck is an invitation for trouble.” Her stomach churned as she remembered the black sedan with tinted windows that had cruised through town.

He countered with a question of his own. “Is this where you run from me again?”

“No running. You can follow me in my truck while I get a motel room, or we can go in your cabin to talk.”

James drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “My cabin. I’ll park my truck behind yours. No casual observer passing by would notice it. Probably safer than you spending the night at the local motel with your vehicle in plain view, anyway.”

“Agreed.”

He drove across the yard and parked behind her rental truck. Charlotte opened her door and eased onto the ground, putting most of her weight on her left leg. If it came down to another chase by land, she was doomed.