The Marshal's Hostage

Chapter Nine



The moment Dallas took the final turn onto the rural road, he spotted the place. Rocky Creek Children’s Facility. He felt a punch of dread from the old memories, but he reminded himself that this visit was necessary.

So was Joelle.

Well, necessary for him to be able to speed through this investigation, anyway. But the sooner he put some distance between them, the better.

Joelle ducked down a little, probably so she could dodge the bright morning sunlight and take in the grounds and buildings. Even though he knew she’d recently visited the place, she seemed to shudder.

“It never did look like a prison,” she mumbled.

No. But that’s pretty much what it’d been since the kids sent there literally had had no other place to go and couldn’t leave. In his case, it’d been because his druggie mother had abandoned him at a sheriff’s office when he was seven, and since she wasn’t even sure who his father was, that hadn’t been an option. When Dallas hadn’t been a good fit and a troublemaker to boot in the half-dozen foster homes where he’d been sent, he’d ended up in reform school. After that, Rocky Creek became a place of last resort.

And his home.

That H word obviously didn’t have the same warm, fuzzy memories that it did for other kids, but reform school, Rocky Creek and his abandoning mother hadn’t broken him. His past had actually given him the drive to make something better of himself.

Apparently, it’d done the same for Joelle, though she’d been placed there for a different kind of abandonment. When her parents had been killed in a car accident, they’d left provisions in their will for her to be taken to Rocky Creek because a relative worked there. Of course, by the time Joelle had arrived, the relative had been long gone, and she’d been on her own.

Until they’d found each other, that is.

“You okay?” Joelle asked him.

He hadn’t realized she was staring at him, obviously noting his less than happy expression. “Yeah.” And that wasn’t a lie. “You?”

No yeah from her. “I just want to finish this.”

He was on the same page with her when it came to that.

Dallas pulled to a stop in the driveway in front of the entrance of the sprawling redbrick building. The grounds were in good shape. The trees were all trimmed. The flower beds were weed-free. He’d expected to see the place in total disrepair, but it looked pretty much the same as it had sixteen years ago.

“Rudy and Sarah still take care of the place?” he asked.

“Yes. Rudy does the grounds. And Sarah cleans the place—often, from the looks of it. Well, she did before her husband’s body was found and the inquiry started. After that, the state had the doors locked.”

It made sense. Basic precautions had to be taken in case there was any evidence left inside, and it was a plenty big enough place for there to be some hidden evidence.

He hoped so, anyway.

Dallas stepped from his truck. Looked around. Not just at the facility but at the wooded area and grounds. He was certain no one had followed them, but their attackers were still at large so he had to take precautions.

Joelle got out as well and had her own look around. She wobbled a little on the pebbled drive and had to catch on to the truck to steady herself while she raked a small rock from her high heel.

“Not exactly the best shoes for a trek like this,” he mumbled.

Or for keeping his attention off her. He could say the same for the entire outfit. A pale blue skirt and top that seemed to skim every curve of her body, and she had some curves, all right. The heels didn’t help, either. They weren’t exactly high, but they showed off her legs.

Yet something else that he’d always admired.

“The shoes and two similar outfits were all I’d brought with me,” she explained. “I hadn’t packed for an investigation.”

No. She’d packed for a honeymoon. Dallas’s stomach clenched at the thought of her wearing that outfit for Owen. Or wearing anything for him for that matter. Heck, his stomach clenched more at the thought of Owen looking at her while she was wearing nothing.

Oh, man.

He was a lost cause, and he forced his brain to dwell on something other than the shape of Joelle’s butt.

Dallas cleared his throat, hoping it would also clear his head, and he walked up the steps. “I’m surprised the state hasn’t torn the place down by now.”

“They can’t. The man who donated it back in the fifties put a stipulation in his will that it couldn’t be removed, only renovated. So far, no one seems eager to do that, and the state doesn’t have the desire or the money.”

Because places like this were dinosaurs, thank God.

“Sarah’s and Rudy’s salaries are paid from the donor’s estate,” she added. “I guess that’s one of the reasons they stay on.”

It’d take a heck of a lot more than a paycheck for Dallas to continue to live here.

Joelle fished through the laptop bag she’d brought with her and came out with the keys to open the padlock on the metal bar latch that stretched across the double front doors.

“Where’d you get the keys?” Dallas asked.

“The governor’s office.”

They stepped inside, and Dallas looked around. Bare floors and walls. Not a stick of furniture in sight. But it was indeed clean. Sarah and Rudy had obviously taken their maintenance duties seriously.

“The furnishings were sold years ago,” Joelle explained, “and the bulk of the records were moved to Austin when the place shut down, but there are still storage sheds. And Webb’s office.”

“Anything in there?” he asked.

“Plenty. It had been sealed off since the closure, and even Rudy and Sarah weren’t given keys to the lock. It still has some of Webb’s personal files, and it’s where I spent most of my time when I first started the inquiry.”

Dallas had no doubt she’d done a thorough job, too. “Anything left there to find?”

She lifted her shoulder and headed for the stairs. “Maybe you’ll see something I missed. Then we can walk over to Sarah Webb’s cottage and talk to her. Rudy lives in a trailer near the creek.”

They went up the steps that Dallas had walked hundreds of time, and while his mind should have been solely on this visit, it wasn’t. Damn his body. Certain parts of it, anyway. Those parts wouldn’t let him forget this blasted attraction for Joelle.

“I need to apologize for what happened last night,” he said.

She stopped in front of Webb’s office and proceeded to open a padlock on yet another bar lock across the door. “Nothing happened.”

He lifted his eyebrow.

“Nothing we can’t ignore,” she amended.

He wasn’t so sure of that. There was something else he couldn’t ignore, either. “I never have thanked you for trying to help Kirby and me.”

“No need for thanks. I was helping myself, too. Or so I thought.” She paused. “If I can’t stop Owen, we’re going to jail.”

“It’s not over until it’s over.” He hadn’t meant that to sound, well, sexual, but it did. Or maybe that was just his blasted imagination.

Nope.

The slight quiver of Joelle’s mouth let him know she was having similar thoughts, and that made both of them stupid.

She threw open the door, and though Dallas had thought he was prepared to see his old nemesis’s office, he wasn’t. A jolt of a different kind.

Webb had beaten him in this office.

Not just hours before Webb’s disappearance but plenty of other times, too. And not just him but Declan and Harlan. Hell, the man had even slapped Joelle, and it didn’t matter how many years had passed, that still put some acid in his gut.

Joelle shuddered again, maybe reliving the same memory. He saw the steel return to her eyes, and she plopped her bag on Webb’s desk.

“I have a portable scanner,” she explained, “and I copied things that I thought might be important.” She pulled a handful of files from the desk drawer she’d unlocked, put them on the desk and unlocked the other drawers. “Like Webb’s personal notes about the kids.”

That grabbed his attention, and Dallas dropped down in the chair to have a better look. “He kept files on all of us?” He looked at the sheer number of folders that she was pulling from the drawers.

“Most of us.” She plucked one from the stash and handed it to him. It was his file. “I went through all of them, looking for a motive for Webb’s murder.”

Dallas thumbed through his file and saw exactly what he’d expected to see. Webb labeled him a troublemaker and there were plenty of notes about the fights. But zero notes about Webb’s beatings.

“We all had motive,” Dallas mumbled. He tore his gaze from the folder and looked at her. “But did anyone other than us stand out?”

“Maybe.” She opened her laptop and turned it on. “I used these notes and the timeline I created. As I said, you have a short window of opportunity. But some others didn’t.”

“Like Declan. He didn’t do this.” Dallas hoped not, anyway. “Besides, it might not have been one of the boys. Some of the girls had reason to hate Webb, too.”

Joelle nodded. “Caitlyn Barnes. Remember, she and your brother Harlan were together.”

Yeah, he remembered. Even though they were supervised, the teenage hormones had prevailed, and some of them had found ways to be together.

“You think Caitlyn could have killed Webb?” Dallas asked.

“Not really.” Joelle huffed and sat down on the edge of the desk. “And that’s the problem. Webb wrote some negative things about her, even labeled her antisocial because she had all those piercings, crazy colored hair and wore black lipstick. But she wasn’t a large girl. I can’t see her overpowering a man like Webb. That’s true for most of the residents, and the ones who were close to being physically his match either lack motive or opportunity.”

“Doesn’t take much opportunity to stab a drunk man,” someone said.

Dallas automatically stood, reaching for his gun, and he spotted the man in the doorway. Rudy Simmons. The Rocky Creek caretaker.

“Didn’t hear you come up,” Dallas remarked. He didn’t draw his gun, but he kept his hand poised over his holster and would keep it that way until he was sure the man wasn’t a threat.

“Always been light on my feet,” Rudy remarked. And apparently he still was because despite the fact he was wearing boots, he hardly made a sound as he strolled across the room toward them.

Dallas estimated the man was about fifty-five now but looked younger. There were threads of gray in his dark blond hair but few wrinkles. Everything about him was wiry and alert, and he definitely didn’t put Dallas at ease.

“Marshal Walker.” Rudy gave a dry smile and used his thumb to push back his battered cowboy hat that had probably once been white. It was a dingy tan color now. “You’ve come up in the world. From what I’ve heard, all of Kirby’s boys have. Figure those badges will keep y’all out of jail?”

“Their innocence will do that,” Joelle jumped to say before Dallas could speak. She stood, squared her shoulders and stared at Rudy. “And what’s this about Webb being drunk? I interviewed you for hours, and you never mentioned that.”

“Didn’t I? Must have slipped my mind.” His attention landed on the folders. “Find anything in those files?”

“If I did, it slipped my mind,” Dallas drawled.

Rudy laughed, but the humor didn’t make it to his eyes, and any trace of the laugh quickly faded. “I thought you were done with your inquiry,” he said to Joelle. “Figured you were on the verge of having somebody arrested.”

“Not yet. In fact, I wanted to reinterview you and Sarah Webb.”

That tightened Rudy’s mouth. “You’re not thinking I killed him?”

“Did you?” Dallas asked. He stood, slowly, but kept his gaze pinned to Rudy so he could see every bit of his response.

“I didn’t.” His jaw tightened even more. He pointed his finger first at Dallas and then at Joelle. “Nothing good can come from digging up all this old junk. In fact, it could be downright dangerous to your health.”

Dallas moved out from behind the desk, putting himself in front of Joelle. “Is that some kind of threat?”

“No threat, Marshal. Just some sage advice. Of course, you were never good at taking advice, were you?”

“Not from you. And not from your old pal, Jonah Webb. Who killed him?” Dallas demanded.

Rudy got a cocky look on his face. “Rumor has it, you. Or your foster daddy.”

“Rumors aren’t worth a bucket of spit.” Dallas was about to press for a real answer from Rudy, but the sound stopped him.

Footsteps.

A moment later, Sarah Webb appeared in the doorway. Good. They hadn’t had to go to the cottage, after all. Both of their suspects had come to them, and there was no doubt in Dallas’s mind that both were indeed possible killers. There were very few adults who’d had access to Webb, but Rudy and she fit the bill.

“I saw you drive up,” Sarah said, her voice soft. She gave both Joelle and Dallas a half smile, but she glared when her gaze landed on Rudy. “The truck with supplies just arrived. They need you to sign some papers.”

Rudy returned the glare and extended it to Dallas and Joelle. “They’re putting their noses in places they don’t belong,” he told Sarah.

“They’re trying to find my husband’s killer,” she pointed out.

Sarah stepped inside the room, and Dallas got a better look at her. The years hadn’t been as kind to her as they had Rudy. She was rail thin to the point of looking unhealthy, and the way she had her auburn hair pulled back from her face only made her features look more pointed and harsh. She’d never been an attractive woman and was less so now.

“They’re trying to pin this on someone other than them,” Rudy snapped back.

Sarah spared him another glance and went closer to the desk. As Rudy had done, she looked at the folders that Dallas and Joelle had been reading. She would have to be blind not to see the names on the files, and one of them was his own.

Sarah turned her gaze back to Dallas. “What Rudy isn’t saying is that he and my husband were at odds when Jonah disappeared.”

Joelle huffed and folded her arms over her chest. She zoomed right in on Rudy. “Yet something else that I’m just now hearing about. Why didn’t you tell me this when I interviewed you?”

The man shrugged. “Didn’t come to mind then. And besides, it wasn’t important. Sarah here is just riled ’cause she couldn’t find her witch’s broom this morning.”

Joelle opened her mouth to say something but thankfully backed off when Sarah whirled in Rudy’s direction. They could probably learn a heck of lot more from Sarah and Rudy’s argument than they could from the files.

“Insult me all you want, Rudy Simmons, but it doesn’t change the truth, and the truth is my husband was on the verge of firing your sorry butt for stealing supplies meant for the kids.”

“I didn’t steal anything.” Rudy didn’t yell, but it was close. “Jonah just got confused, that’s all. The inventory didn’t add up, and he needed someone to blame other than his shoddy bookkeeping. Or maybe that was Sarah’s shoddy bookkeeping. I figure she messed around with those numbers just to put a wedge between Jonah and me.”

Sarah lifted her hands, palms up. “And why in sweet heaven would I do that?”

“Because Jonah and me was drinking buddies, weren’t we?” Rudy readily answered.

They were. That was common knowledge, but this was the first Dallas had heard about issues with the bookkeeping. Judging from Joelle’s reaction, she was just learning of it, as well.

“You seem to have forgotten some valuable bits of information during our chat,” Joelle said to Rudy. “What else are you forgetting?”

“Don’t take that tone with me.” He rammed his thumb against his chest. “The only thing that’s important here is that I didn’t kill Jonah. In fact, if you’re not willing to look in your own backyard—or bed—then look in Sarah’s.”

Dallas didn’t care much for that bed reference, and it took him a moment to get his teeth unclenched so he could speak. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Ain’t it obvious?” Rudy countered. “Jonah was beating her over pretty good.”

Sarah groaned softly. “My husband beat a lot of people.” She looked at Dallas. “I’m sure you remember that.”

“Yeah, I bet he does,” Rudy volunteered. “The marshal was on the receiving end of Jonah’s justice the very day he disappeared. A dispute over the scrawny kid if I remember rightly.”

“Marshal Declan O’Malley,” Joelle said. “And that dispute sent Declan to the infirmary for the night.”

Where no one had actually seen him, according to Joelle. Still, it was clear from her tone that she didn’t believe his kid brother was guilty. Or maybe she just didn’t want Sarah and Rudy to believe it.

“Seems Jonah’s whippings gave lots of people reason to kill him,” Rudy added. “And none no more so than her.” He tipped his head to Sarah, mumbled some profanity and walked out.

“What a despicable man,” Sarah said after watching Rudy leave.

Dallas couldn’t argue with that. “Why do you live so close to him? Why do you live here?” he amended. “This place can’t hold many good memories for you.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it’s home.” She dodged his gaze. “And if I leave, then my son won’t know where to find me.”

“Billy,” Joelle said. “I’ve been looking for him but so far, no luck.”

“Because he doesn’t want to be found.” And that’s all she said for several moments. When her gaze returned to look at Dallas, he saw her blinking back tears. “His father did some horrible things to Billy, and he’s never forgiven me.”

“He attempted suicide,” Dallas said.

Sarah swallowed hard. Then nodded. “Sometimes, you just can’t get over the bad things.” Her attention shifted back to the folders. “Why did you come back? Have there been any breaks in the investigation?”

Joelle cleared her throat. “Someone found a knife that might have been used to kill your husband.”

“Who found it?” Sarah asked.

“Sorry,” Joelle answered. “I’d rather not say yet, but it was a hunting knife. Black wood handle with a curved tip for gutting animals.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Like Rudy’s.”

Dallas eyes widened, too. “Rudy has a knife like that?”

“Sure. He used to carry it with him all the time. Said it came in handy for skinning snakes.”

Well, there’d been plenty of those around Rocky Creek, but maybe Rudy had used it to commit a murder. Of course, that didn’t explain how Dallas’s prints got on it. He didn’t remember handling a knife like that, but it was possible he had. A lot had gone on in those few days leading up to Webb’s disappearance.

“You’ll question Rudy about the knife?” Sarah asked.

“Definitely,” Dallas assured her.

She nodded, then gave a quick breath of relief. “I must be going. My quilting group will be arriving soon.” She started to leave but then stopped. “Rudy was right about one thing, though. It might not be safe for you to continue this investigation. The person who killed my husband won’t care for having his identity revealed.”

Unlike Rudy’s comments, Sarah’s didn’t sound like a threat, but there was still something uneasy about it. Or maybe it was the whole situation that made him uneasy.

“I worry about Kirby and all the ones he’s took from here,” Sarah went on. “That gives Kirby a powerful motive for murder.”

Dallas had to shake his head. “How do you mean?”

“Well, Kirby was trying to close the place, but the day he disappeared, Jonah had gotten word that Rocky Creek was staying open.”

That was news to Dallas. He looked at Joelle for verification, but she only shrugged. “Sarah told me that in the interview, but there’s no proof.”

Sarah made a sound of disagreement. “Maybe no written proof, but Jonah said he’d gotten the right people to back him up and that the place wouldn’t be closed after all.” She paused. “You should ask Kirby about this because Jonah told him, too. Kirby wasn’t too pleased, of course. He wanted Rocky Creek shut down so it’d be easier to get custody of you boys.”

Dallas wanted to know if this was something Joelle had discussed with Kirby, but he didn’t intend to ask in front of Sarah.

“Guess I don’t have to spell it out,” Sarah went on, “that this could be Kirby’s motive for killing Jonah.”

“No, you don’t have to spell it out,” Dallas snapped. “Especially since there’s no proof what your husband said was true.”

Sarah didn’t have much of a reaction to that, but she did check her watch. “I really must be going. Let me know if I can help you with anything.” She turned and left.

He didn’t say anything to Joelle until he heard Sarah’s footsteps trail away, and even then Dallas went to the door and shut it.

He’d had his fill of surprise visitors for the day.

“Kirby didn’t remember any conversation with Webb about the facility staying open,” Joelle said before he could ask.

So maybe Sarah was lying about the conversation and other things, too. Of course, he could say the same for Rudy.

“Interesting, huh?” Dallas said. “It sets off alarms in my head when someone volunteers that much info.”

“Especially when they didn’t volunteer it before.” Joelle went to the window and looked out. “Maybe their tempers got the best of them, and they said more than they’d intended to say.”

Maybe. Dallas joined her at the window and saw Rudy in the back unloading what appeared to be mulch and bags of soil from a truck. That explained why the grounds were still in such good shape—Rudy was actually doing his job.

But that didn’t make him innocent.

“Do you remember Rudy ever carrying a knife?” Dallas asked her.

Joelle shook her head and turned toward him. Her arm accidentally brushed against his chest. A simple touch. But it cruised right through him.

“I’ll ask Rudy about it,” she said, glancing away. But not before he saw the discomfort, and maybe the heat, in her eyes.

He followed her gaze now past Rudy and to the heavily treed area on the west side of the grounds. He’d kissed her there, but then he’d kissed Joelle in a lot of different locations around Rocky Creek. This place was one gigantic memory. And it would have been easier if they’d all been bad.

But Dallas rethought that.

Loving Joelle had taught him plenty about just handing over his heart. If he hadn’t learned that lesson from her, he would have had to learn it from someone else.

She swallowed hard. “I left you because I didn’t have a choice,” she said as if she’d known exactly what he was thinking.

Except her confession sounded like a little more than just a rehash of their past.

Something flashed through her eyes, as if she’d said too much, and her chin came up. “Besides, you never asked me to stay. You never told me if you even cared about me.”

He was sure he looked at her as if she’d sprouted a third eye. “We were lovers,” Dallas reminded her. “Frequent lovers,” he added. “I figured that was proof enough I cared.”

“No.” She stretched that out a few syllables. “That was proof that you wanted to have sex with me.”

Dallas huffed. “And that didn’t tell you I cared?”

Apparently not, judging from the stony look she gave him. Dallas was about to press her on what he should have done and said back then—and how the devil this was somehow his fault—but Joelle moved, causing the sunlight to flash through the spot where she’d been.

At first Dallas wasn’t sure he was seeing things, but he looked closer at the left-hand side of the window frame. The wood was stained a dark brown, but once he was close enough, Dallas saw the specks. A least a dozen tiny dots.

“What’s wrong?” Joelle asked.

He ignored her for the time being and examined the other side. No specks there, and none on the sill. So, it wasn’t part of the wood pattern, and it didn’t look like the stain finish.

Joelle leaned in, examining it along with him. “What is that?”

“I’m thinking blood spatter.”

She sucked in her breath. Looked closer. “You’re right.” Joelle grabbed her phone and used it to click several pictures. As soon as she was done with that, she made a call. “I need a CSI team out to the Rocky Creek Facility ASAP. Marshal Walker might have found something.”

Dallas considered calling in someone from the marshals’ staff, too, just so they’d have a second opinion, but he decided to wait and see what Joelle’s CSI had to say. It might not even be blood spatter. But if it was...

“If it’s Webb’s blood, he could have been murdered here in this room,” Joelle said, taking the words right out of his mouth.

“Or this could be from a beating Webb gave one of us.”

“Yes.” Her breath rose again. Her mouth tightened, and she was no doubt remembering the painful things that had gone on here.

He could tell she was fighting to hang on to her cool composure, and she stepped away from him. “I did a cursory check of the place when I first started the inquiry. I obviously missed that.”

“Easy to miss,” Dallas pointed out. “But if it turns out to be Webb’s blood, the spatter and pattern might be able to tell us the height of the killer. Or more.”

Her gaze shot back to his. “What do you mean?”

“Assailants who use knives often cut themselves during an attack. The killer’s blood might be in that spatter.” He looked around. “Or someplace nearby. Your CSI needs to go over the entire room.”

She checked the time on her phone. Then looked at the folders on the desk. “We should keep going through those while we’re waiting.”

Yeah. They should. But Joelle no longer looked too steady on her feet. Maybe the effects of the drugging. Maybe just the stress of seeing what might be a dead man’s blood.

Dallas caught her arm and eased her into the chair behind the desk. He’d intended to move quickly away from her, but he found himself lingering.

She looked up at him and blinked. “Too many memories here.” Her voice was a ragged whisper.

He managed a nod and hoped like hell she wasn’t reliving the slap Webb had given her in this very office. Judging from the stark look on her face, though, she wasn’t reliving the sexual stuff that’d gone on between them, either.

But he rethought that when he had a closer look at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Joelle said a split second before she put her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her.

Their mouths met. And, yeah, Dallas could have easily pulled away. Easily. But he didn’t. He hauled Joelle up from the chair and kissed her the way he’d wanted to ever since he’d laid eyes on her at the church.

Everything suddenly turned frantic. Urgent. And hot, of course. There was always heat when it came to Joelle, and the taste of her jolted through him. Here were memories of a different kind. She tasted and felt right. Had the right fit in his arms. But he was no longer kissing a teenage girl.

And that made the situation even more dangerous.

Because Joelle knew how to kiss him right back.

Dallas pulled her closer to him, though she was already moving in that direction, and with just a shift of position, they were plastered against each other. He could feel every inch of her, and he had no doubt that she could feel every inch of him.

Like a trigger, his body got ready for sex. Old habits died hard, and even though he reminded himself that sex couldn’t happen, he’d already crossed a big line just by carrying on with this kiss. And not stopping.

Thankfully, Joelle finally stopped. She jerked away from him, gasping for breath, and he saw the look. That look. The one she used to give him just seconds before he’d start pulling off her clothes.

“That probably helped, right?” she said. “I mean, it got it out of our systems.”

Dallas didn’t even attempt to agree with that whopper because the kiss was nothing but a reminder that getting Joelle out of his system was impossible. When kissing her, he’d forgotten all about the old wounds. And all about his vow of never forgiving the woman who’d abandoned him.

Hell, he’d forgotten how to think.

He was about to remind himself of how dangerous that was. Loss of focus and all that. But he stopped when Joelle froze. Her expression changed, and this time he was pretty sure it didn’t have anything to do with wanting to have sex with him.

“Do you smell smoke?” she asked.

Dallas lifted his head. Yeah, he smelled it, all right. “Smoke,” he spat out.

He hurried to the window, hoping that Rudy was burning some trash or something, but the man was no longer in sight. The bags of mulch and soil were piled on the ground, but there were no signs of a fire.

“Oh, God,” he heard Joelle say.

Dallas whipped around in her direction, and he followed her gaze across the room.

Hell.

The smoke, black and thick, was seeping under the door.