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Willow pulled a folded sheet of printer paper from the attacker’s shirt pocket. She took it out, unfolded it, and thenturned the sheet around so he and Maria could see what was on it. A photo of Harrison. Underneath it, an itinerary. “Brighton Private Airstrip to Texas Brand via North Brand Lane. 12:00 - 1:00 a.m.”
He took it from her. “They knew exactly where I’d be,” Harrison said.
“He ain’t gon’ hurt her,” the handcuffed man said. His beard glistened with blood from his nose and split lip.
Willow spun him around. “Where’s he taking her?”
The guy spit a mouthful of blood on the ground then said, “I want a lawyer.”
Within a short time, there were cops surrounding the woodlot. So was every member of the Brand family. Harrison, Maria, Ethan, and Hyram had been driven back to Maria’s van on a UTV. There were flares blazing and pulled-over police vehicles with lights flashing. Maria’s mother, Jessi, ran to wrap her daughter in her arms. Then she turned to Harrison and Hyram.
“We’re gon’ find her,” she promised them both. She nodded in the direction of the wreck, where the flashing yellow lights of a wrecker joined the strobing red and blue of the police cars. Then she looked at Maria and said, “I’m s’posed to drive you back to the ranch where it’s safe. But uh… I heard that little Agent, Hofstadler— ain’t she cute as a button?— sayin’ the forensics team would arrive by noon. ’Til then, nobody’s allowed to lay a finger on that truck that rammed you.”
Harrison saw the way Maria’s face changed. She looked right at her mother and there was no doubt in his mind that the twowere having a private conversation nobody else was in on. Maria said, “They takin’ it to the impound yard?”
“Seems likely,” her mother said.
The wrecker was humming loud and lifting the front of the black truck. Then the driver made a few more adjustments, got behind the wheel, and towed the thing away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The impound yard was an unpaved square lot with a half dozen cars, a couple of tractors, an ATV, and a cement mixer. Weed-tangled chain-link fence formed its boundary. The gate was closed and locked.
“Your dad’s safe and sound at the ranch house, with plenty of folks watchin’ his back,” she said, nodding at her phone.
“Good to know. Andyourdad the chief deputy thinks we’renotabout to break into his impound yard, right?”
She made a face, then said, “If he doesn’t, it’s only ’cause he hasn’t had time to mull on it yet. He raised me, after all.”
Harry looked worried. In the dash lights, his brow was creased, his mouth, tight. “I don’t feel like we have a choice,” he said. “The idea of Lily being in that guy’s hands?—”
“I know. And I’m with you on that,” Maria said. “Up ahead there’s a spot to pull off. There, right there, see it?”
“I see it.” He pulled her van off the road, amid some small brushy trees that might conceal it a little bit. He shut it off but left the keys on the seat. They got out, and walked across the road, pulling on latex gloves taken from her veterinary supplies as they went. Maria jumped up onto the chain-link fence, near apole, and climbed. In seconds she was landing on the other side and brushing off her hands.
Through the link, Harry gaped at her. She smiled. “Meet me at the gate. I’ll let you in.”
He shook his head then jumped onto the fence and climbed over, dropping down beside her. “I’m not gonna let you show me up.”
“Yeah? Next time we’ll race. See who’s faster. This way.” She led him through a half dozen vehicles and other items. “We have to avoid the camera. There’s only one. See it? It’s angled toward the front.” And she pointed.
He nodded then said, “Why is there a barbecue grill in the impound?”
“Some locals were cookin’ meth on it.” Maria spotted the large black truck with the huge metal grill welded onto the front. Its bed was lined with wood planks and was wider than the truck. At the rear, there was a ramp, folded in at the moment, for loading and offloading the ATVs.
Harry opened the driver’s door and climbed up, so Maria went around to the passenger side. She opened the glove compartment and found a plastic fork, some napkins, and the truck’s manual. If there’d been a registration or insurance card in there, the police would have already taken them. She looked over the top of the visor. A pair of sunglasses fell down. Sighing, she put them back and checked the pocket attached to the door, which was filthy, and held several cellophane cigarette wrappers and an empty plastic ice cream bowl with a wooden spoon.
As soon as she saw that spoon, she remembered its flavor. Yuck.
She looked across at Harry. He was digging around underneath the driver’s seat. So, she bent to look underneath the passenger seat, and whisper-shouted, “Ha! There’s an envelopeunder here.” She stretched her arm and got hold of a corner. “Got it!”
She pulled it out and climbed up onto the seat. Harry climbed up onto his as she looked at the envelope. He pulled out his phone, turned on the flashlight app to illuminate the address.
His face fell. “It’s junk mail. Resident. Rural Route Twelve.”
Maria said, “That’s only a twelve-mile stretch. We’re closer.” She turned the envelope over. The back was covered in handwriting. She read it aloud.
“‘Harrison Hyde, Texas Brand.’ It has your description. See right here, tall, dark, and handsome.”
