Page 50 of Mountain Freedom
I was standingin the shower, trying to wash away what had been an emotionally brutal day, when my phone rang. “Damn,” I muttered, turning the water off and grabbing a towel. My parents normally called on Sunday afternoons to catch up. If my phone rang at night, it could only mean one thing—something was wrong and I was about to clock some overtime. Again.
I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my phone off the bathroom counter, frowning as I looked at it. Allison’s name was on the caller ID. She normally texted. Worry coursed through me as I wondered if something else had happened.
“Hey,” I answered, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear as I dropped the towel and grabbed my clothes.
“There’s somebody in my house.” Her voice was strained and full of fear.
“What?” I almost dropped the phone as I yanked up my jeans.
“There’s someone in my house,” she repeated. “I came home and was about to eat when I heard footsteps upstairs.”
“Get out, now,” I directed her. I reached for my wallet and gun, shoving the wallet in my pocket and the pistol into the waistband of my jeans.
“I’m out,” she said. “I’m in my car. What should I do?”
“Have you called nine-one-one?”
“No. I called you.” Her voice sounded so afraid, so helpless. A shot of warmth flooded my heart that she would call me first, that I would be the one she turned to without even thinking.
“We’re going to hang up. I’m on my way, okay? But you need to call nine-one-one. Someone might be on patrol closer and can get there faster than me. Keep your car doors locked.”
“Okay,” she said. I could almost picture her nodding, trying to be brave.
“I’m on my way,” I repeated. “Hang up now.”
The call went dead and I grabbed a shirt, not even bothering to button it before I was out the door and in my truck.
Miller wason scene when I arrived—not my first choice, but not the worst, either. He was intimidating and more than capable of handling himself.
He was also an ass who didn’t like me very much, as I had gotten the job and title of detective he believed he deserved.
“Ford,” he said, barely lifting his head in acknowledgment before raising his eyebrows. “Couldn’t even bother to button your shirt?”
I glanced down, having completely forgotten. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Where’s Allison?”
“Inside. Giving a statement to Sanchez.”
“Did you catch the guy?”
He shook his head and turned, spitting in disgust. “Nope. Back door was wide open though, and there are boot prints in the dirt back there. Looks like the guy spooked when she ran out and took off into the woods.”
“Then why aren’t you out there searching?” I demanded.
He raised his eyebrows again. “You know as well as I do that if someone wants to get lost, there’s a hell of a lot of wilderness to do it. No way Sanchez and I are going to track someone down out there when he had a ten-minute head start.”
Emerson could,I thought, but I kept it to myself. No need to give Miller even more of a reason to hate me. He already resented the fact that the sheriff and I regularly called on Emerson’s tracking skills instead of Miller’s, even though Miller considered himself one of the best trackers in the area.
“I’m going to go take a look out back,” I said.
Miller stopped me, putting a hand on my chest. “Nope. The sheriff already told us you have a conflict of interest in this one.” He gave me a sly smile, obviously loving the fact that he was in charge for once. “It’s my investigation, and you’re not going anywhere near it.”
“It’shisinvestigation,” I retorted, unable to stop myself.
“Well, he’s not here, is he? So I’m in charge.”
I ground my teeth, refusing to take the bait. He’d be gone soon and I’d look around then. “Fine,” I said. “I’m going to check on Allison.”
“You’ll wait until she’s finished giving her statement.” He was enjoying every minute of putting me in my place.
