Her partner shot him an appraising look. Did that look have anything to do with Regina or just that he was another man talking to a beautiful woman?
The radio clipped to her shoulder beeped. She answered it immediately and brought it close to her ear. The message crackled, and then both the woman and her partner stood. “Officers responding.”
“See you around,” she said as she and her partner tossed money on the counter and hurried from the diner.
It wasn’t the conversation he’d hoped for with the striking brunette, but it was a start.
* * *
Annabel didn’t know if dispatch had been given the go-ahead for her and Luis to receive actual police assignments, but they were en route to break up a street fight. Most street clashes in Granite Gulch were Friday-night bar brawls. A daytime fight? Annabel didn’t know what she and Luis would find, but she was ready. Her adrenaline was pumping hard and not just from the report of a fight.
Jesse Willard had turned her head around. She should want nothing to do with him, and she should have been borderline cold to him. Once he had started talking to her, it was impossible to ignore him.
She and Luis ran the two blocks along Main Street and turned into an alley next to the Bar and Saloon. Four men total, three wailing on the other. The victim was slumped on the ground. The alley dumpster was overflowing with the stink of skunked beer and rotting chicken. Annabel’s stomach soured, but she focused.
“Police! Show me your hands!” Annabel said, drawing her gun.
“Your hands! Now!” Luis echoed.
At their command, two of the men took off in the opposite direction. The third assailant put his hands on his head. The victim was not moving, and Annabel called on her radio. “I need an ambulance on Main Street, next to the Bar and Saloon.”
“Go, Annabel. I have these two,” Luis said.
Heeding her partner’s experience, she chased after the men who had fled the scene. When she reached the end of the alley, she looked left and right. They were gone. A car engine revved, and a light blue pickup truck pulled out of the alley a block away. The truck had a large rusted spot along the passenger side. It turned away from her, skidding on the dusty road. She was too far away to read the license plate, but she could provide a basic description of the pickup and a rough sketch of the suspects.
She clicked her radio. “I have a blue pickup fleeing the scene of a crime. Older model. Two suspects. Consider them dangerous and proceed with caution.” She jogged back to assist Luis.
Luis had one man cuffed and seated against the exterior wall of the saloon. Luis was leaning over the victim, checking his neck for a pulse. As their backup and the sound of an ambulance siren approached, a crowd began to form.
“Sir, stay with us. Help is on the way,” Annabel said. She spoke to the man, watching the rise and fall of his chest and hoping he survived. He had cuts on his face and from what she had witnessed, likely other injuries to the rest of his body.
Annabel felt someone watching her. She lifted her head and saw Jesse Willard. He stepped toward her with a first-aid kit in his hand.
He knelt on the ground and opened the kit. He took a fresh gauze pad and pressed it over a cut on the man’s face.
Jesse seemed to know what he was doing.
“How can I help?” she asked.
Jesse glanced at her. “Not sure there’s anything we can do until the ambulance gets here. I have some medical training, but he needs a doctor.”
The ambulance arrived, and the crowd parted to allow the paramedics through. Annabel’s priorities became securing the victim into the care of the EMTs and paramedics. They would take him to Blackthorn County Hospital. Detectives would be sent to the hospital to question him when he was able to talk.
Luis led the remaining attacker to their squad car. He’d be questioned for information on his associates. Something about the wildness of his eyes and the way he walked made Annabel think this was drug related. A drug deal gone bad or a territory dispute? Granite Gulch was a small town and not without its problems.
Annabel turned to thank Jesse, but he was gone.
Annabel had pulled out her books from the police academy and had reviewed her notes on conducting a stakeout the night before. Though the chance of spotting Regina Willard walking around Willard’s Farm was low, she wanted to be prepared. This was her first assignment without Luis outside routine police work, and Chief Murray was watching her closely. She wouldn’t make a foolish mistake and have the chief believing he had made an error in giving her this task. She had stuck her neck out, claimed she was ready for more and she would rise to the challenge.
Feeling guilty for watching Willard’s Farm when Jesse had been helpful at the scene of the beating outside the Bar and Saloon, Annabel reminded herself a stakeout wasn’t personal. This was about stopping a killer and following every lead, regardless of how remote the chances of finding Regina were. Annabel didn’t owe Jesse anything, and even though he had seemed nice, plenty of things in Annabel’s life had seemed good until they weren’t. She had happily lived in the big farmhouse with her parents and siblings, her home with Mama Jean had been wonderful, but those things had been snatched away. Jesse might seem nice, but he could be a sociopath. Being attracted to him was utterly confusing, and she did not make good decisions in her personal life. This stakeout wasn’t personal, no matter her feelings for Jesse Willard. Having a crush on someone involved with a case didn’t supersede her responsibilities to remain professional and objective.
Annabel drove to Willard’s Farm and parked across from the main farmhouse on a public road. With acres of land, crops, the barns and outbuildings, it was difficult to find a good angle to see everything.
Staying on the main road, Annabel would note who came and went from the farm. She would check license plates and look for anyone off schedule. If Regina was hiding at her brother’s farm, she had to show herself at some point. She’d need to go out, if for no other reason than to search for victims or to mail more sicko letters to Matthew Colton.
Annabel had checked the aerial view of the farm on a map and didn’t see other access roads, but the data she’d been using was at least three months old. She would circle the property later and see if Jesse had another way onto his property Regina could use to move about discreetly.
Annabel made herself comfortable and tried not to think about someone creeping up behind her. Her undercover police vehicle had extra mirrors to give her a 360-degree view around the car, but she couldn’t look everywhere at once. Chief Murray had sent her out alone. He must believe the chances of someone approaching her were slim. She agreed with that assessment, but being farther from town in a location she wasn’t familiar with made her uneasy.
She settled into her seat and focused. It was ten minutes before two in the afternoon. According to the police department’s file on Jesse Willard, his farmhands changed shifts at two. As cars drove up the road and turned into the driveway, Annabel scrawled notes. A few minutes later, other cars left the ranch.
Regina could be hiding in one of the cars, and Annabel was tempted to stop the vehicles and search them, but Chief Murray had been clear. She was only to watch. If she had suspicions about more going on and that someone, Jesse or a farmhand, was hiding Regina, she would report it and return with a proper search warrant. Or rather, another officer would. Since Annabel’s last name was Colton, any evidence she found would be subject to question by a decent defense attorney. A lawyer could claim she was emotionally invested in the case and lacking impartiality. Though Annabel knew the difference and wouldn’t make a legal mistake that