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“For a couple of years, then he just disappeared. No one seems to know what happened to him.”
“We need to track him down.” Bryce plucked the picture from Livia’s fingers and placed it with the other picture and the files. Then she put the shoebox back into the container and straightened. “For now, I think we’ve hit a dead end.”
“Again,” Livia muttered as she pushed herself upright. “I really thought that this time …” Livia’s words died away as she pointed to a spot a few feet away. “Wait. Is that another tarp?”
Bryce skimmed the light over the low mound. It was covered with a thick moss, but it did stick out of the ground as if there was something buried there.
“Let’s look.” Bryce cautiously inched her way across the ground that was becoming increasingly saturated. Her feet were soaking wet, the smell of rotting plants and stagnant water thick in the air. She grimaced, refusing to imagine how many bloodsucking insects and slimy reptiles were hidden in the muck. “This one’s been here a long time,” she said.
“Whatever is under there is big,” Livia said, boldly reaching out to grab a handful of the decaying tarp.
She gave it a sharp tug, but the moss and vines kept it firmly lodged in place. Thankfully the material had rotted enough that it split beneath the pressure, ripping in half to reveal a rusty object beneath.
“What is that?” Bryce grabbed another section of the tarp, giving it a sharp tug until it shredded away. Once she had one side exposed, she aimed the flashlight to reveal the dull gleam of black paint. “A car?”
“Oh my God,” Livia abruptly muttered. “Not just a car. It’s my grandfather’s limo. This was his prized possession.”
It was hard to visualize the rusty, filthy shell as a fancy limo, but there was no mistaking the sleek lines and once gleaming chrome detailing. “Why would such an expensive vehicle be left to rust in the swamp?”
“I have no idea.”
Bryce rounded the vehicle that was half submerged in the mud, continuing to pull away the decaying tarp. As she reached the front, she exposed the hood that was deeply dented, as if someone had smashed it into … something. It was hard to say exactly what.
“Maybe this is why,” she said, waiting for Livia to join her. “It was obviously in an accident.”
“This is the same car that was in the photo hidden in Stella’s shoebox,” Livia reminded Bryce. “Did Manny damage the car? Is that how he’s involved?”
“That’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be connected,” Bryce agreed, abruptly shoving the files and pictures she’d kept from Stella’s belongings and handing them to Livia. Then, pulling out her phone, she took several photos of the abandoned limo.
“This is something the sheriff needs to investigate,” she decided, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “If we’re on public land, then at the very least the Benoits are polluting the waterways.” On the point of turning around to lead Livia out of the swamps, Bryce froze at the rustle of leaves. Something was moving behind them. She swung her flashlight from side to side. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Bryce continued to search the darkness, her instincts screaming they were no longer alone. It wasn’t just the rustle of leaves. It was the prickling awareness of a predator who was creeping closer.
But even on full alert, Bryce nearly missed the shadowed form weaving through the stunted trees. It was only because the flashlight glinted off the metal weapon the shadowed intruder was holding that she had time to leap to the side, shoving her companion to the ground as the crack of a gunshot echoed through the bayou.
Her ears were still ringing when a white-hot pain seared along the side of her neck. It felt like someone was pressing a branding iron against her skin. She hissed, tasting her blood as it splattered over her face, and she belatedly realized that a bullet had sliced past her throat, deep enough to gouge through the flesh, but hopefully missing her jugular vein.
Pressing her hand against the wound that continued to bleed, Bryce had enough sense to fall at an angle as she heard another shot ringing through the air. She needed to get away from the shooter long enough for her to call Finn for backup. Or maybe she would sneak back to her SUV where she’d left her gun.
The frantic plans were still swirling through her mind when her head smacked against something hard. She’d hit the bumper of the limo that was sticking out of the mud.
Pain ricocheted through her, joining the burning agony still throbbing in her throat. Then, to her horror, she realized that her vision was starting to narrow. She was going to pass out and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do to stop it.
Strangely, her last thought wasn’t one of fear. Being a law officer meant she’d already prepared herself to face death. It was an aching sadness that poor Josie was going to grow up without knowing how desperately her parents loved her.
CHAPTER 23
The Willows
Tuesday, July 8th
Livia crawled through the thick undergrowth, her muscles trembling and her heart lodged in her throat. She’d lost the files and pictures she’d been holding, but she didn’t dare look back as she angled away from the shooter and in the general direction of the Willows.
Every instinct screamed for her to stay and fight. What if she left and something worse happened to Bryce? But while she might be able to draw the attention of the shooter away from her injured friend, she couldn’t stop him. Or her. Not without a weapon. If she stayed they would both die.
Her only hope was getting to a phone and calling for help.
