I should have picked her up that day, Julia thought.
But she’d been running late from attending a charity event all afternoon, and Alfonso had been insistent. He wanted to spend time with their daughter, but in doing so, he’d inadvertently brought danger to all of them. At least he’d had the foresight to get Moria out of harm’s way once he’d seen that danger coming. He’d given her his phone and dialed up Julia, leaving Moria alone but safe. He’d known Julia was at a nearby hotel finishing up with her duties after the charity event.
Now Moria’s secrets about what she’d seen or heard that night were also hidden away, deeply embedded inside her child’s mind because no one, not the team of therapists or her own mother, could bring it all to the surface for Moria. She kept whatever she knew intact. That is, until she went to sleep at night.
Then, all the horrible scary things hidden in the dark seemed to come out to taunt the little girl.
No wonder her daughter never wanted to go to sleep.
And no wonder Julia was so worried that the secrets locked inside her daughter’s mind might bring harm to both of them. Not knowing was driving her crazy.
But finding out the truth might be even more dangerous.
He had to know the truth.
Eric stared at the yellow crime-scene tape slashing across the double doors of Cat’s Courthouse Café. He’d come here straight from the hospital, and although his arm was in a sling and he still felt woozy from all the pain medication, it felt good to be out in the bright springtime day with a fresh breeze blowing over his face. His shoulder still ached, but his mind was spinning like the whimsical metallic garden ornament Cat had hanging by the front door. He stood back, leaning against the old-fashioned hitching rail in front of the café, his mind reliving every minute of what had happened here two days ago.
“Got it figured out yet, buddy?” Adam asked as he came up and handed Eric a bottle of soda. “Thought you could use a drink.”
“Thanks,” Eric said, taking a long swig of the amber liquid. Then he glanced back through the windows of the restaurant. “He went in through the kitchen, and he brought Julia out through the swinging doors with him.”
“That’s odd,” Adam said, sipping his own drink. “I mean, going in through the kitchen I can understand. But why didn’t he just head right to the cash register?”
“Maybe he thought grabbing the first person he saw would give him more cover,” Eric replied. “But that notion didn’t exactly work out to his advantage. I just wonder where he went. If he bled out or even if he is alive somewhere, we’ll never find him now.”
Adam must have sensed his remorse. “Don’t beat yourself up, old man. You shot him in self-defense, and to protect Julia. We can only imagine what he would have done to her if he’d taken her with him.” Then he looked down the street where a few cars passed by now and then. “Besides, I’m the one who let him get away.”
Eric thought about that. “He must have had help, someone waiting for him.” He didn’t like the nasty scene playing inside his head. “I don’t want to think about that. I just hate—”
“You don’t like having to shoot someone. We’ve all had to deal with that at times.”
“What if he just needed some money? Maybe I should have tried to talk him down more.”
Adam shook his head. “You saw the man’s eyes. He was too far gone. For some strange reason, he picked a bad day to rob the place.” Then he shook his head. “And even though we let him get away, he left a trail of evidence—bloodstains on Julia’s blouse and fingerprints on both the outside door and the swinging door from the kitchen.”
“Got any leads?”
“As a matter of fact, I think we do,” Adam said, handing Eric a printout, then added, “Of course, officially, I’m not supposed to have this information. So, unofficially and just for your information, we had a sketch artist come over from Longview and talk to several of the witnesses, including Julia, Cat and me.”
Eric lifted his chin. “Yeah, I gave a description while I was in the hospital, the whole routine. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Adam tapped the papers he was holding. “Based on the sketch and the fingerprints we were able to lift, we’ve established his identity. We found some fresh prints on the back door, ran ’em through AFIS and came up with a positive match. We’ve narrowed it down, based on the eye witness descriptions and the sketch. When we hear from the DNA samples, we’ll have it confirmed. His name is Mingo Tolar, last known address a seedy hotel in El Paso. And he has a record as long as my arm.”
Eric read over the sheet, then glanced at the sketch. “Petty theft, drunk and disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace, trespassing and resisting arrest, possession of narcotics. Why does that not surprise me?” Then he shook the rap sheet. “So if this is our man—and this looks exactly like him—how’d he wind up all the way across the state in a tiny town like Wildflower?”
“Maybe he was a mule,” Adam replied. “Just passing through on a drug run along the interstate. Maybe he needed some drug money. He might have sampled the goods, panicked, thought he’d better replace the merchandise. He was high when he hit us, so that means he was also careless. We’ll know more when the DNA results from the blood drops we found come back from the CODIS lab in Ft. Worth.”
“Did we locate a vehicle?”
“Not yet. He either had someone waiting in a getaway car, or he might have hidden until he could run. He was pretty strung out, best I can remember.”
“No wonder he was such a loose cannon.”
“All the more reason for us to get Julia away from him before he could take off with her.” Adam shrugged, shook out the tightness in his muscles. “I just wish I could have caught him. We searched every building around here and immediately sent out patrols. Amazing how he got away so quickly.”
Eric nodded, letting the information settle in his gut. Letting a bad guy slip right through their fingers hadn’t gone over very well with the department. Reminding himself that he and Adam had at least saved Julia, he shifted on his feet. “Something just isn’t sitting right.”
“Maybe the fact that I’m stuck on a desk job until this is cleared up, and you’re on sick leave for a few more days, or that we’re not even supposed to be investigating this thing, period?”
Eric looked around, then shrugged. “We were involved. That tends to make a man curious. And…regardless of whether I’m the official investigating officer or not, I need some answers.”
Adam slanted a look at him. “Talk to me, brother.”
Eric closed his eyes, going over the details one more time in his mind. He thought about Julia’s expression, about the man’s skittishness, about how she’d silently appealed to Eric to help her. There had been something else there in her eyes, something Eric couldn’t quite pinpoint.
But Adam’s next words brought it all to the surface. “It’s like he went straight for Julia, know what I mean? Almost like the money was an afterthought.”
Eric glanced from his friend back into the restaurant. “Yeah, I do know what you mean. And you know what else? It’s like Julia Daniels had been expecting someone to do just that.”
She hadn’t expected all this attention. The publicity generated from both the newspapers and the television stations had Julia’s head throbbing. And had her even more worried that she’d somehow be discovered. It was bad enough, having to give detailed statements to the investigators, then having to describe the man to a sketch artist.
If she only knew what she’d been running from, she might be able to get a better grip on her sanity. Between the ringing phone and the network crews