Rita Herron - Cold Case at Camden Crossing

The deputy narrowed his eyes as he examined the photograph of the bloody message. “Someone really wants her gone.”

“It looks that way.” Chaz headed back to the door. “But it’s our job to protect her, Deputy. And to find out who made that threat.”

* * *

TAWNY-LYNN GRIPPED the bat with sweaty palms. It was the bottom of the ninth and the Camden Cats were one run behind. The team was depending on her.

The pitcher threw a curve ball that came in low, and she barely managed to check her swing in time before the umpire called ball one.

Two more pitches and she’d tipped the ball twice. Her stomach felt jittery. Her chest hurt. She couldn’t strike out now.

Another ball and it nearly hit her shoulder. She jumped back, the ball whizzing by her head. She stepped aside to steady herself, then ground the bat at the base and raised it, ready.

The pitcher wound up as the crowd and her teammates chanted her name. A second later, she swung at the ball. Metal connected with it, sending the ball flying, and she took off running as the ball soared over the fence. Her teammates screamed in excitement, the crowd roared and Peyton, who was on second base, sailed around the bases. Tawny-Lynn was faster than her sister and nearly caught her as they raced into home plate.

Her homerun sent the team one point ahead.

Roars and cheers from the crowd echoed in her ears as Ruth stepped up to bat. Three straight swings though and she struck out.

Still, the Cats had won. The girls rushed her, clapping and shouting and hugging. The coach pounded her on the back. “You’re our hero today, T!”

She beamed a smile as they grabbed their gym bags and jogged toward the bus. More congratulations and pats as the girls clamored into their seats.

“I have to stop by the bank. Let’s meet up at the pizza parlor to celebrate,” Coach Wake announced. He made his way back to his car while the bus driver fired up the bus.

Tawny-Lynn settled into a seat by herself while Peyton jumped in beside Ruth, and they started whispering and giggling.

Peyton was boy crazy, and Ruth was interested in someone, but they were keeping it a secret, talking in hushed voices. Jealousy sparked her to glare at them, but her sister pulled Ruth closer and tucked their heads together to shut her out.

The bus chugged around a curve, but it was dark on the country road, a storm brewing, thunder rumbling. A car raced up behind the bus and rammed it, and the bus jolted forward. The driver shouted, then tires screeched and the bus swerved toward the embankment. The ridge loomed below, and fear shot through Tawny-Lynn.

She hated heights. Had always been scared on the switchbacks.

The bus jerked again, something scraped the side, then the bus went into a skid. One of the girls screamed, brakes squealed, then the bus flew out of control, slammed into the metal guardrail and careened over the ridge.

Backpacks and gym bags slid onto the floor, and she gripped the seat edge to keep from falling. Bodies fell into the aisle, blood was flying, and she was thrown against the metal seat top as the bus crashed into the ravine.

Sometime later, she roused. It was dark, so dark...pain throbbed through her chest and leg.

She couldn’t move. It was deathly quiet.

Then she felt hands pulling at her, moving her. She tried to open her eyes, but the world was foggy.

Breathing rasped around her. She tried to see who was pulling her from the bus, but it was too dark. Then she heard crying again—another scream. Voices.

Was her sister all right?

She struggled to see, but...there was a man...his face...hidden in shadows. Who was he?

Tawny-Lynn jerked awake, panting for a breath. The dream...had been so real. A memory.

She had heard a voice. Seen a face.

A man’s? A woman’s? Peyton’s maybe?

God help her, who was it?

* * *

CHAZ POPPED OPEN a cold beer when he made it home, his mind obsessing over Tawny-Lynn. Was she sleeping now? Or was she awake, terrified the person who’d left her that bloody message would return and make good on his threat?

Tension knotted his shoulders. He wanted to be back at White Forks watching out for her. Making sure she was safe.

Holding her...

Dammit, no. Tawny-Lynn was the last woman on earth he needed to be attracted to.

Why her?

Why now?

Life would be so much simpler if she cleaned that place up quickly, hung the for-sale sign, left town and never came back.

Then he wouldn’t have to think about her being on that deserted run-down ranch by herself where God knew anyone could sneak up and attack her.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t have enemies. She had too many to count.

The people who’d lost family members in that crash despised her for not being able to give them closure by identifying the person who’d hit the bus and caused the crash.

Their family members, Coach Wake and half the town had also been questioned as suspects and resented it because Tawny-Lynn could have cleared their names.

Coach Wake has literally sobbed at the news of the crash, saying maybe if he’d been with the girls on the bus he could have done something to save them. Instead, he’d driven his own car, taken a side road, then stopped for cash and a surprise cake to take to the celebration dinner.

Tawny-Lynn’s delicate face flashed in Chaz’s head, and he grimaced, sipped his beer and headed to his home office. The cabin was small, but he’d carved a workspace in the second bedroom where he’d hung a gigantic whiteboard and laid out everything he knew about the missing girls from Sunset Mesa and Camden Crossing.

A smaller board held photos of other missing young women from various states for comparison purposes so he could look for connections.

Once again, he studied the pictures former sheriff Harold Simmons had taken of the accident. The bus was a mess, dented and crushed against a boulder in the ravine, flames shooting from all sides.

Keith Plumbing, a local handyman had driven up on the scene and called it in. His statement said he’d first seen smoke, then stopped and realized it was a bus and called 911. He’d run down the embankment to rescue the students trapped inside, but by the time he reached the bus, it burst into flames. He saw Tawny-Lynn lying in the dirt several feet away. But no one else was around.

Due to the fact that Keith called in the accident and had a history of drinking on the job, and he’d worked in Camden Crossing and Sunset Mesa, the sheriff questioned him as a person of interest. Plumbing could have caused the crash, then lied about the timing, dragged Tawny-Lynn out to safety but couldn’t save the others.

Although he’d sworn he hadn’t seen Peyton or Ruth. And if he’d hurt them or kidnapped them, where had he taken them? He hadn’t had enough time between the time of the crash and when he’d called in the accident to dispose of a body.

Another photograph showed Tawny-Lynn unconscious on the stretcher, her leg twisted, blood streaking her face and hands. She looked so pale and fragile that he wondered how she’d survived.

Shaking off emotions he didn’t want to feel for her, he glanced at the list of suspects the sheriff had considered. Plumbing had been one. He’d also questioned Barry Dothan, a young man with a mental disability that affected his learning and behavior.

Dothan liked to watch teenagers and took pictures of them on the track, swim team and softball field. But his mother swore that Barry was harmless, that he would never hurt a soul. The pictures of Ruth and Peyton posted on the corkboard above his bed were the only evidence that incriminated him. Some of the girls at school claimed they felt uncomfortable around him, but none of them had accused him of inappropriate behavior.