ONE CUP (Part 33)

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142

Sheriff Mike Bridges

The Page County, Indiana Sheriff Department was swamped with calls following the numerous tornados that ravaged the county. All off duty emergency services personnel and sheriff’s deputies were called in.

Halfway back to his office from a wreck on Rocky Creek Road, Sheriff Mike Bridges’ cell phone rang. He recognized the ring tone dedicated solely to his sister. “What’s up April?”

 “Mike, I need help!” There was no mistaking the urgency in her voice.

“What’s wrong?” His sister was never one to over-react. Bridges inhaled deeply, waiting for catastrophic news.

“Shelby’s missing!”

In his line of work, he dealt with distraught parents on a regular basis. “Hell, Sis, she’s a teenager. She’s—”

         “She didn’t come home from work last night. I called all her friends. No one has seen her!”

“Since when’s she had a job? Why hadn’t I heard about it?”

“Maybe because it didn’t concern you,” April said. “Sorry. Didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“No problem. Where does she work?”

“At the health food store. The one at the mall, not the one downtown.”

“I’ll get a BOL put out on her,” he said. “I need to know what time she got off work, who saw her last, and a list of her friends. Anyone you can think of.”

“She got off at eight-thirty. Her boss, Candy Johnson, sent her home early. She was not feeling well. Mike, she never made it home!”

“Okay, Honey,” the sheriff said in his most soothing voice. “We’ll find her.” He reminded her that he needed names of people who Shelby knew. April rattled off about a dozen names.

“How about that kid, the McBride boy she’s been seeing?” he said. “You call him?”

         “He said they were arguing night before last, and—”

         That got the sheriff’s attention. “He say what they were arguing about?”

“No, just the usual teenage drama.”

 Where were they? What time was it?”

“Skip’s a good kid, Mike. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt Shelby. He’s just as worried as I am.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he said. He would have a talk with the kid. “Any problems at home, between you and her?”

“Just the usual,” April said. “She doesn’t want to lift a finger to help out around the house, and we fight about that. Nothing worth running off.”

“I’ll put out a BOL for her,” he repeated himself. “We’ll find her, April.” He ended the call, hoping he was right, and they would find his niece. In time.

“Unit One,” the call came in over the radio in Sheriff Mike Bridges cruiser.

“This is One,” the sheriff answered in a raspy voice. “Go ahead.”

“There’s a detective with Indy PD wants to talk with you. Okay if I give him your cell number.”

“He say what it’s about?”

“Something about a missing person. White female. They’ve received a tip she may be in Page County.”

“Ah, crap,” Bridges said. “As if we don’t have enough going on right now. Yeah, okay. Give him my number.”

“Will do.”

Moments later the sheriff sat in his cruiser, listening and taking notes as the IPD detective filled him in. “We received a call from an individual identifying himself as Ray Garrett, who plays ball for the Bobcats.”

“Never heard of him.”

“He’s a new guy on the team. Anyway Garret is a person of interest in the disappearance of this woman . . . a Whitney Ross.”

“And?”

“And although he claims to have had nothing to do with it, he left me a message saying he has reason to believe she is being held at . . . let me look here . . . Brown’s Towing Service just outside of Page.”

“I know the place,” Bridges said.

“And he said he believes she’s in grave danger. His words,” The detective said. “Look, Sheriff, I know you’re swamped, like we all are these days, and I know you’ve had some bad weather move through your area today. But if you could find a way to swing by and take a look for us we’d certainly appreciate it.”

“All right,” Bridges said. “I’ll get somebody out there. No guarantees how long it will be.”

Sheriff Bridges ended the call, flipped his roof-mounted light bar on, and hit the gas.

The call regarding an Indianapolis woman who was reported missing and now believed to be in rural Page County would not ordinarily be assigned top priority under the circumstances. But this one was located at Brown’s Towing Service. Larry has been quite helpful from time to time, providing information, disposing of evidence which could be harmful to the sheriff or his friends, and of course the payoffs which were going toward funding a lot of the sheriff’s retirement dreams. Despite the fact that they worked well together, Bridges never allowed himself to forget Larry Brown was a bad man. Someone you didn’t want to cross. For everyone’s benefit, he knew it was imperative he get out there and see what Larry was up to.

143

Whitney

Jackie said “Give me your hand,” as she reached out to help me to my feet. I froze.

“What’s the matter?” Jackie said, turning to see what I was looking at.

Kayla Prescott stood next to Rylee. She’d somehow come upon us unnoticed, and to make matters worse, she’d found my gun and was holding it to my daughter’s head. Rylee’s ponytail was looped and held tightly in her other hand.

“Mommy!” Rylee cried. “I’m scared. She’s hurting me.”

Kayla jerked her head, and Rylee yelped. “Shut up you little snot.”

“You let her go!” I shouted.

“Or what?” Kayla said. “You know, all my life, all I ever wanted was to be somebody,” she said. “I don’t think that’s asking too much, do you?” She was waving the gun now as she spoke. “I’ve got the looks, if I say so myself. And I’ve got talent. Why not me?”

“Seems to me you’ve been blessed,” Jackie said. “Rich husband. Good job. Why don’t you hand me the gun, Kayla?”

Kayla’s eyes widened. She grabbed Rylee, pulled her to her. “You’re one of them.”

“One of who?” Jackie said.

“One of the people who’ve been against me all my life. Don’t deny you set this whole thing up with this bitch. All so you could get money from us.”

“I won’t deny it,” Jackie said.

“I trusted you.” Kayla’s lip trembled, and it looked for a moment like she was going to cry.

“What do you expect?” Jackie shouted. “You killed my brother!”

“What?”

“Bobby Ogden was my brother.”

“Well, you can’t blame me for that!”

“I can, and I do!”

“Ian McGregor was the one supposed to have been attacked. So, it’s not my fault.”

“Mommy, I’m scared!” Rylee said.

“Shut up!” Kayla jerked her, and Rylee yelped. The fighting dog lunged at Kayla, yelped in pain as he hit the end of the chain. Kayla laughed.

I stood. “Let. My. Daughter. Go. You—”

Kayla fired the gun, hitting me in the shoulder, knocking me to the ground.

“I’m not screwing around here, people,” she said. “I came to finish this, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

She aimed the gun at me again.

“One, two, three, four!” Leon shouted. Kayla fired at him.

Leon provided me a momentary diversion. I rolled to my left, ignoring the pain, ignoring the dog poop on the ground. I grabbed for the padlock and squinted to read the digits in the darkness. One. Kayla was aiming her gun again, but this time it was Jackie who came to my aid, lunging at Kayla. Two.

Kayla stepped aside gracefully, like she’d been trained in self-defense or martial arts, and Jackie fell to the ground. Three. Kayla stood over her, aimed at her head. Four. I opened the lock, removed the chain link. The dog leaped again, this time taking Kayla to the ground. The gun went off as they fell.

I scooped up Rylee as Jackie grabbed the gun Kayla was been holding. “Run! Run for the house!” Jackie shouted. My shoulder was injured, but there was nothing wrong with my legs. A minute later, we were pounding on the door of the house trailer.