Golden Trail (69 page)

“I –”

“Reverend, you can freak out later, “Layne
cut in impatiently. “Now, I need everything you can tell me about
TJ Gaines.”

Pastor Knox stared at him then he stepped
back from the door, turning sideways and Layne didn’t hesitate, he
walked right in.

* * * * *

Layne’s boots made noises on the tile around
the high school swimming pool but no one could hear it because all
the noise the boys were making while swimming their laps was
reverberating around the huge room.

But Nick Fullerton saw him, he pulled his
whistle out of his mouth, smiled big and walked to Layne.

“Tanner,” he called while walking. “Jas tell
you? He picked up another one last night. Purdue.” His smile turned
huge but it would, Nick Fullerton was a Boilermaker. “They’re real
interested.”

Again, Layne didn’t smile back.

Instead, when Nick stopped close to him, he
ordered, “I need my boys out of the pool, showered and their asses
in Jas’s car. Giselle Speakmon went missin’ last night.”

Fullerton’s eyes got wide and he whispered,
“No shit?”

“No shit. Tripp and Jas know Giselle. I need
my boys.”

“Dad!” Tripp yelled, he was out of the pool
and running as best he could on the grips on the tile toward Layne
and Fullerton.

Layne glanced at his son then his eyes went
back to Fullerton. “Any boys want to help find her, it would be
appreciated. They find anything, they call me. Tripp and Jas have
my number. She isn’t alone, they don’t go in, they stay clear and
they call me. No one else. Not the cops.
Me.
”

“Dad,” Tripp repeated but Layne didn’t look
at him. He lifted his hand and curled it around his son’s wet
shoulder but he didn’t take his eyes from Fullerton.

“That understood?” Layne demanded.

“What do you mean, she’s not alone?”
Fullerton asked.

“Someone might have her,” Layne
answered.

“This someone dangerous?” Fullerton
asked.

“Absolutely,” Layne answered.

“Shit,” Fullerton muttered.

“Dad!” Tripp yelled and grabbed his father’s
forearm so Layne looked to him to see Jasper was at his back, Seth,
Jamie and Mitch at Jasper’s back.

“I can’t send high school students on a girl
hunt if it’s dangerous, Tanner,” Fullerton said, calling Layne’s
attention back to him.

“Then don’t but my boys are huntin’,” Layne
returned and his eyes went to Jasper. “Shower. Charger. You go to
Giselle’s house, you get a list from her Mom and Dad I asked them
to make, you call and you visit every one of her friends. You make
those girls talk. They heard anything from Giselle,
anything,
you report it back to me.”

“Right,” Jasper said instantly.

“You see TJ Gaines or his car while you’re
out, you report it to me. You don’t go in. You don’t follow him.
You get the fuck out of there, call and report where you saw him or
his car, get me?” Layne went on.

“Got you,” Jasper replied.

“I fucked up,” Tripp whispered and Layne’s
eyes cut to his youngest.

“Get that outta your head,” he ordered.

Tripp shook his head, taking a step back,
pulling from Layne’s hand but running into his brother so he
stopped. “I fucked up. I was bein’ stupid. Selfish. I thought she
was playin’ games with me. I shoulda said something. I thought she
was –”

Layne hooked his son behind the neck and
pulled him forward, bending slightly to get in his face. “
I
fucked up, Tripp.
I
did it.
I
knew better than to
finesse this. You’re fourteen years old and you were doin’ what you
were told. You did good, you did right and now you gotta keep your
shit together and help me find your girl.”

Tripp didn’t believe him. Tripp liked this
girl. Tripp was scared as shit. Layne knew it and seeing it in his
boy’s eyes, it tore him up.

But he couldn’t dwell. He needed to
move.

He gave Tripp’s neck a squeeze, straightened
and looked at Jasper.

“Shower. Charger,” he ordered, his eyes
sliced through Fullerton, he turned and he walked out of the
natatorium.

* * * * *

Layne was in his Suburban, making his fourth
pass around the Christian Church when his phone rang. His neck was
tight, he was pissed he had so little intel on Gaines he had no
clue where to look.

He grabbed the phone off the passenger seat,
looked at the display and put it to his ear.

“What you got for me, Dev?”

“Cell number the reverend gave you binged.
We got his location. Ryker rendez vous’ed at the office to report
in, he was here when I locked on the GPS signal and we moved out,
on our way now. Ryker says ETA is ten minutes.”

“Give me a location,” Layne ordered.

Devin gave him the location and the location
surprised him, since it was on Colt and Cal’s street, not only on
their street, next door to Cal, directly across the street from
Colt, then Dev stated, “We’re not waitin’.”

“Don’t,” Layne returned, cutting through the
parking lot to do a uey to the alley so he could hit Main and back
up Devin and Ryker. “I’m five minutes behind. See you there.”

“Copy that. Out,” Devin grunted and Layne
heard the disconnect.

He flipped his phone shut and was in the
process of tossing it to his passenger seat when it rang. He
twisted it in his hand, looked at the display, flipped it back open
and put it to his ear.

“Sweetcheeks, now is not a good time,” he
said into the phone.

“Your Mom and me are on our way to Giselle,”
Rocky said back and Layne’s chest seized.

“No you’re not,” he growled.

“Yes, we are, Layne,” she shot back. “I’ve
been calling her all morning, leaving messages. She picked one up
and she called me back. She says she’s alone, hiding out, scared to
death. She says she only wants me. No one else but me.”

Good news was, Giselle was alive and able to
make calls on her phone. Bad news was, Layne’s woman was a nut.

“Where is she?” Layne asked.

“Two two three Rosemary Avenue. A
girlfriend’s house. I know this girl, her parents took her out of
school, her Grandma’s sick and not going to make it. They all flew
to Florida to be with her, their house is empty.”

Two two three Rosemary Avenue was not where
Devin and Ryker were heading.

“You know this is where this girl lives?”
Layne asked.

“No, but that’s where Giselle says she is
and we’re headed there,” Rocky answered.

Fuck.

“Where is it?” Layne asked.

“The Sunny Hills development, toward
Clermont.”

Layne knew it.

“I’ll go, you go back to the house,” Layne
ordered.

“She told me not to tell anyone. She’s
scared to death, Layne. She told me she’ll only open the door to
me.”

“I’ll go, you go back to the house,” Layne
repeated, clipped this time.

“She’s terrified, Layne!”

“What did I tell you about doin’ stupid
shit?” Layne bit out.

“She’s alone and she’s scared,” Rocky
snapped back.

“You think, maybe, she isn’t alone? You
think maybe she’s sayin’ somethin’ someone’s tellin’ her to say?”
Layne gritted through his teeth.

Rocky was silent.

Then she said, “We won’t approach. We’ll
recon the area and stop at a side road. Your Mom’s driving because
my car is a two seater. They won’t know the car even if they see
it. You go in first. She’s not alone, that’s yours. She is, I come
in and that’s mine. Deal?”

Recon the area? Jesus.

“Deal,” Layne replied because he had no time
to talk her out of something she was determined to do and, making
matters worse, Vera was acting sidekick which meant Layne had zero
chance of talking
both
of them down.

He was rethinking his maneuver of reuniting
his Ma with Roc when he flipped his phone shut, opened it and
called Dev.

When he flipped his phone shut on the call
to Dev, he opened it and called Merry.

* * * * *

“You don’t have backup,” Rocky whispered
through the window.

“Merry’s on his way, not five minutes out,”
Layne said back, glanced at Vera then his eyes went back to Rocky.
“It’s all good, I’ll take it slow and won’t take chances.”

“Layne –” Rocky whispered.

“Keep your phone in your hand, your eyes
peeled.” His gaze went to his mother. “Car on, Mom, hand on the
gearshift, anything goes down, you’re gone.”

Vera, eyes wide and lips pressed together,
nodded.

“Layne –” Rocky repeated, still
whispering.

Layne locked eyes with her.

“Be back, sweetcheeks,” he whispered back,
turned away and started to move through backyards.

It was broad daylight but it was cold,
overcast, the air heavy with an impending rain that was going to be
chilly – no one was out barbequing, mowing their lawn, gardening,
playing with their dogs. That didn’t mean no one saw him. It was
doubtful if they did they’d confront him. They’d call the police.
Layne was counting on that. Confrontation would be bad, a waste of
time. Cops he could handle.

He counted down the house numbers and as he
did he thanked God that no one in this development had put up
fences, undoubtedly an HOA restriction, open space was attractive,
a variety of fencing not so much. Rosemary Avenue’s numbers started
on the opposite end of the street, Rocky and Vera had done a drive
through and reported they ended in house number two thirty-five.
Two twenty-three was seven houses in, no cars in the drive and no
movement they could see when they drove by.

Layne approached two twenty-three keeping
out of sight behind a big pine tree. He skirted the tree and looked
in the windows. Blinds and curtains pulled.

Fuck.

He waited seconds and did so as he watched
for movement, the blinds flipping up or the curtains pulled back
for someone to look out.

Nothing.

He moved around the tree and quickly to the
house. Back to it then he ran bent double under the windows to the
French doors that led to a low patio.

Curtains pulled on the doors, he moved to
them and silently tried the doorknob.

Locked.

He crouched, pulling his kit out of his back
jeans pocket, he picked the lock.

The owners needed a new lock. It took him
less than thirty seconds.

He put the kit back in his jeans and pulled
his gun out of the holster at his belt.

The flashback hit him and it hit him
hard.

Ambush.

When he got shot, he’d infiltrated one of
Rutledge’s crime scenes. He was looking for evidence Rutledge
missed in his report. Merry said the work had been shoddy, every
cop in that Department knew it, but none of them could go back to
the scene to follow up on Rutledge’s work without Rutledge knowing
he’d been made.

Rutledge set him up. Fucked up the case
because he knew someone would feed it to Layne and Layne would be
looking.

This could be the same thing with Giselle
Speakmon caught in the crossfire.

Fuck.

He flipped off the safety, sucked in breath,
slowly turned the handle and opened the door just enough for him to
get through.

Nothing. No alarm, no sound, no
movement.

He slid in, swiftly and silently closed the
door and crouched low.

Still nothing.

Quietly, he moved through the family room
into the living room seeing they were clear, through to the front,
across the foyer into the dining room. Clear. Back into the
kitchen. Clear.

No noise. No movement.

Back through the family room, living room
and into the foyer, putting his back against the wall, gun up, eyes
up, he crept up the stairs.

He made it to the top, doors all around, all
of them closed. Sitting duck.

Fuck.

A door opened slightly, Layne’s gut squeezed
and he pointed his gun to it, crouched low and moved to the
opposite side of the landing, shoulder to wall.

He waited.

Nothing.

Then it flew open and Giselle Speakmon
darted out of it. She ran straight to him then tried to get around
him. His arm went out, he caught her at the waist, she screamed and
he straightened, picking her up, clean off her feet, he strode to
the door closest to him, opened it, entered, gun up, then he
slammed the door, went down to the ground, Giselle in front of him,
still screaming, he rolled over her and came up, scanned the room,
eyes and gun pointed at each corner.

Empty.

Giselle was on the move behind him he turned
and grabbed her, pulling her to him.

“
No!
” she shrieked.

“Giselle, honey, it’s me. Mr. Layne. You
here alone?”

She was struggling against his grip and he
was having trouble controlling her because he didn’t want to drop
his gun.

She got free, planted a foot to run but he
caught her forearm, pulled her to him and got in her face.
“Giselle, calm down. Are you here alone?”

“I won’t do it again!” she cried, shaking
her head, twisting her arm against his grip.

Shit.

“Honey, calm down, you’re safe. Your Dad
sent me.”

“I won’t do it again! I won’t!
I
won’t!
”

Layne yanked her close, wrapped an arm
around her and backed up, keeping her close and pulling her away
from the door.

“You don’t have to do it again, honey, you
never have to do it again. I promise. It’s over. Never again,” he
whispered.

He heard movement in the hall and so did
Giselle. Her head whipped toward the door and Layne pushed her
behind him and trained his gun on the door.

Slowly the door opened, Layne aimed, the
door opened further then he saw Merry’s head jump in view as he
cased the room then it disappeared.

Then it came back and Merry slid into the
room, closing the door.

Giselle pressed into his back.

Layne dropped his gun and whispered, “Got
Giselle. We need to check the upstairs is clear.”