Page 115 of It Runs in the Family

Boone’s jaw set.

“The other deputy didn’t take his bait, and Cal, that’s his name, wandered off. Well, as soon as he left, a detective—Detective Colby—walked over to the good deputy and asked what Cal had been sayin’. The detective said he told the sergeant he didn’t want Cal on any of his cases, and if he tried to horn in, the deputy was to let the detective know. He also said Cal must have something on the sheriff because he should have been fired years ago.”

Boone got a faraway look in his eyes. “Interesting.”

“I don’t know if this means anything,” I said, already feeling guilty before I said the next part, “but the officer who took my statement about the guy who tried to kidnap me is Cal’s stepbrother.”

His eyes widened and he grabbed his phone.

“What are you doin’?”

“Texting a friend to look up your incident report.”

“You can’t look it up yourself?”

“No,” he said, tapping on his phone. “It might not be in the system, so the cleanest way is for someone on the federal level to check it out.”

Seconds later, his phone rang. He glanced over at me, indecision on his face, but then answered. “Thanks for callin’.” He was silent for a moment. “I need you to see if Mesquite County Sheriff’s Department logged in an attempted kidnapping late Saturday night.”

“Early Sunday morning,” I whispered. “A little after midnight.”

“Correction,” Boone said. “The attempted kidnapping occurred late Saturday night, but the report was made early Sunday morning by Deputy…” He shot me a questioning look.

“Nate Corbin.”

He repeated the name. “The victim’s name is Iris Gardner.” He paused, and his face hardened. “It has to do with the case,” he said, his voice sharp. “I think one of Voss’s men tried to kidnap the cousin of the woman we suspect is his lover.”

I inhaled sharply. A federal agency knew about Selena? But of course they did. Boone was the one who’d told me she was with Dario Voss, and it sounded like he was working with the federal agent in charge of the investigation.

“Attempted kidnappin’,” he grunted, then got to his feet and walked toward the front door. He had a contentious but discreet conversation that lasted a little over a minute. When he hung up, a scowl covered his face as he returned to the table.

“What was that about?” I asked, scared to hear the answer.

“Nothin’ you need to worry about,” he said. “Do you remember anything else?”

“Just that Detective Colby was going to notify the family as soon as they IDed her. And he was going to have Garrett and the good deputy interview people.”

He nodded. “Anything else?”

I’d already told him everything I’d heard at the crime scene, but there was something else I had to tell him before I handed over the flash drive.

“One more thing. I found it out yesterday.”

Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Go on.”

“When I left with my cousins from Granny’s⁠—”

“When you fled with Mary Ellen and Ava,” he corrected.

I wasn’t sure whether I should be impressed or concerned that he knew their names. “Anyway, when we left, they convinced me to get a beer with them while they worked on their schedule for the week.” I paused. “Apparently, they do this every Sunday afternoon at Bueller’s.” I grimaced. “Or at least they used to.”

His eyes went wide. “Bueller’s? They hang out there?”

“They claim it’s pretty tame on Sunday afternoons, and we were at a booth mindin’ our own business until I went to get us another round of beers.”

“And…?” he asked impatiently, his body taut.

“I’m tellin’ you. Calm down.”