“Ella?” he heard, “Ty. Where are you?” Pause then, “Sit down, honey.” Another pause then, “No, do that for me now. Sit down and don’t delay. I gotta talk to you a minute then I gotta pass you to someone who you gotta talk to.” Another pause, “You sittin’?” Pause then, “Yeah, honey, it’s Lexie. Shift jumped bond, came up and kidnapped her from the house this morning. Cops are lookin’ for her but they got no clue about this guy and the man knows him best in Dallas is not doin’ too good and can’t talk. So, I need you to tell the police here all you know about Shift, where he might go, what he might do. Can you do that?”
Chace watched him listen, close his eyes then open them.
“Right, here he is. His name is Detective Keaton, yeah? You talk, you need me, I’m right here.”
Then Walker held out his phone.
Chace took it and put it to his ear. “This is Detective Keaton. I’m talking to Ella?”
Nothing.
He put his hand over the receiver and asked Walker, “What’s her last name?”
“Rodriguez.”
Chace nodded, took his hand away and said, “Ms. Rodriguez, I need you to talk to me.”
“Won’t do her.” He heard in a voice that was completely and alarmingly dead.
“Sorry?”
“Don’t have it in him, that boy. Don’t got nothin’ in him. No brains. No feelin’s. No courage. Won’t do her. But he’ll take her to someone who will.”
Chace’s gut twisted at her words and her tone. It was as good as done for her. She was already preparing to grieve.
And because of this and for other reasons, he didn’t tell her that Duane Martinez had already “done” four people, three in the hospital, one dead.
Instead, he asked, “Does he have any connections in Colorado?”
“Not that I know,” she answered.
“So, will he take her to Dallas?”
“My guess? Yes,” she replied.
“Then we have time,” he carefully assured her.
Silence.
“I need to let you go now, Ms. Rodriguez. Would you like to talk to Ty again?”
“No, tell him we’re prayin’ but he’s got better things to do than try to make me feel better.”
“Right,” Chace mumbled. “Thank you for your time.”
“I’ll be here,” she replied.
“All right. Good-bye Ms. Rodriguez.”
“Good-bye, Detective Keaton.”
Then he heard her disconnect, his eyes went from where they wandered to the counter back to Walker to see he had his home phone to his ear.
“Tate?” Walker said. “Ella says he’s takin’ her to Dallas. In about three seconds I’m in the Snake.”
Then he touched a button on the phone, tossed it on the counter, leaned forward, pulled his phone out of Chace’s hand and moved.
Chace called after him, “Walker, let the police deal with this.”
“You tell your brothers, they find me, flip on their sirens, I ain’t stoppin’,” Walker said to the stairs then he jogged down them.
“Fuck,” Chace whispered, dug his own phone out, flipped it open, called the Station and told them to inform local Departments and the Highway Patrol that a black Dodge Viper with silver racing stripes would likely be detected greatly exceeding the speed limit and if they caught him on radar they followed him but let him be.
Then he turned his eyes to Frank who was staring down the stairs and called his name.
“Guy’s headin’ to Dallas. Tate Jackson is heading to Dallas and Ty Walker is heading to Dallas and so am I,” he told Frank and Frank jerked up his chin.
Chace Keaton walked swiftly out the backdoor but not so swiftly he didn’t see the photo in the windowsill of Walker and Lexie standing close, arms around each other, beautiful landscape in the back, Lexie Walker smiling bright and happy at the camera, clearly exactly where she wanted to be and where that was was not standing in front of beautiful landscape.
The image burned in his brain, he made it through the door, jogged to his SUV, swung in and headed out.
*
Tate
His cell beside him rang, he nabbed it, looked at the display, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Keaton,” he greeted.
“News just in, Tate. Duane Martinez was picked up yesterday in Oklahoma.”
Tate blinked at his windshield then asked, “What?”
“Highway Patrol caught him speeding. He didn’t stop. Fifteen minute high-speed chase, he crashed but was unharmed, took off on foot, they got him. Since he freaked, he luckily left the weapon that did Pe?a in his SUV and didn’t have a chance to use it again. Took some time to process him, run his prints, find out they’d get to prosecute him after Dallas did and they informed Dallas, Dallas sent boys out to get him. This we just got. He never made it to Colorado.”
“Then who has Lexie?” Tate asked.
Keaton was silent a moment then, his voice deeper, pissed but controlled, “One, Rowdy Crabtree. Two, Arnie Fuller. Or three, my father.”
Fucking hell.
“Break that down for me, Chace,” Tate ordered, searching for an exit sign to turn the fuck around a-fucking-gain.
“Rowdy is freaked and fucked. Arnie is missing. And I know Newcomb slipped that video to Walker and Lexie so it stands to reason that my father would find out that same thing. He’ll want Walker to collect all copies and return them to him and he’ll want to assure Walker and Lexie do not talk. And he’ll do what he can to make that happen.”
“You talk to your Dad?” Tate asked.
“Called four times. He’s not answering. Called my Mom, she says he’s at work. I don’t want to worry her so I left it at that.”
“He usually take your calls?”