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She nodded and stood back up. “I have no idea if anything was taken. They even broke his camera and dumped out his case.” She pointed to a large blue bag on the floor near the sliced sofa. Three large lenses laid next to it with the camera haphazardly piled on top. He hoped it wasn’t broken beyond repair. Cameras like that were expensive, and that was how Heather and her father made their living.
He spied something on the desk he hadn’t noticed and tugged a plastic evidence bag from his back pocket.
“What’s that?” Heather’s eyes went wide.
A postcard of the Badlands lay on the desk, propped up like it was important. He gently lifted it by a corner and turned it over to see if they’d written a message.
‘Give me the drive or you’re dead’ was written in block letters on the back of the card along with a date and what appeared to be coordinates. “Do you have anywhere you can safely stay for a while? Maybe with your mom or another relative?” He didn’t know anything about her family other than that her dad didn’t like him. This house wouldn’t be processed for quite some time, and it wasn’t safe for her to stay here.
Heather slowly shook her head. “Mom passed away two years ago. It’s just me and Dad now. I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Wall was too small to have a place where people could hide, like a safe house. There were hotels, but with tourist season ending, they were full. The only place he knew would be available and safe was his own house, and he didn’t want to offer that unless he had to. His mind screamed at him that it was a mistake at best and unprofessional at worst. He opened his mouth as a shot rang out, blasting through the house and into the wall near Heather’s head, shattering a window behind her.
He grabbed her and dragged her to the floor, covering her with one side of his body. With his free hand, he pulled out his radio and called for backup. “Stay here,” he commanded Heather.
With slow precision, he belly-crawled to the back door. Without letting the shooter know where he was, he hoped the assailant would still be there, allowing him to take chase. A few feet away from the sliding glass door, he saw a man standing in the backyard, watching the house. He hadn’t been there when Allen had looked out the windows earlier, so he must have been hiding elsewhere.
Allen analyzed the situation. If he shot from the house, through the back door, the sound might deafen both him and Heather temporarily. A burst eardrum was a risk, but he’d rather get a better shot or even a chance to catch that guy. A dead man couldn’t lead them to Heather’s father.
Inching closer to the back door, the man looked straight at him and raced off. Allen jumped to his feet, heading for the back door, when Heather’s scream cut him short.
He slid to a stop and turned back to face her. She held a hand out in front of her, blood dripping from her palm. He took one last look out the back door, but the shooter was gone.
“What happened?”
She looked up with apology in her eyes. “I think the glass from the window sliced my hand. I’m sorry.”
One thing was certain, he had to keep Heather safe because someone was after her, and they wanted more than the blood from her hand.
CHAPTERTWO
After a few hoursat the Police station, Heather was ready to be anywhere but the sterile white room where she had to wait for Allen and his team to finish processing her house. Even hours later, the sick to her stomach feeling kept her from eating anything. Dad had been beaten up by those men. He’d bled in their house. There was no other explanation for what she’d seen.
Hindsight left a guilt so heavy Heather could hardly stand it. If those men had been after her, why had they taken Dad? What drive could she possibly have that they could want? Wildlife photos weren’t exactly known for being illegal or even so precious that someone would break in for one. She’d never even sneaked her way into a place without asking permission. Her father was a stickler for honesty and rules, so she learned at a young age to be good and do things right.
Heather twisted a tissue into a long tube and unrolled it, bored with her surroundings, but also nervous. What would Allen find? Someone knocked on the door to her room and tension knifed through her stomach. “Come in?” She wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to say.
Allen came through the door and the small room suddenly felt about half the size it had a moment before. The scent of his aftershave filled her nose. “Did you find anything?” She had to focus on her dad and what she had to do to get him back safely, not the man in front of her.
“No. They had to have been wearing gloves. Other than the few drops of blood and those match your father’s blood type, nothing was left behind.”
“Except the mess.” She’d been thinking about that, too. What could they be looking for that they’d have to cut open the sofa? What did they mean by ‘drive’ on the note? They’d destroyed her father’s computer. It probably wouldn’t even turn on. Did they mean the hard drive onhercomputer?
“Yes.” Allen tugged out the nearest chair and sat. While having him eye-to-eye with her helped her to feel less surrounded by Allen, he was still big enough to fill the room. “I’d like to bring you back there, if you’re willing, and take another look around. As we processed the scene, we looked for things that could be the drive described in that note, but we found nothing.”
“I’ll help as much as I can, but I’m stumped. They looked through Dad’s computer. That only leaves mine.”
His forehead furrowed. “Where was your computer?”
“My car.” The only thing of hers that wasn’t destroyed, besides her camera bag. “My phone was in there, as well as my camera in its case. My camera case is similar to Dad’s. The only difference is, I have a pink puff on the zipper pull. I had to add it because we’ve grabbed the wrong bag before.” She hoped she’d get the chance to joke with her father again about photography and all the things they shared by having the same career.
“Can we look through your computer?” His eyes looked hopeful.
She stood, needing to do something instead of just sitting there staring at the sheriff. “Sure. You can look at it while I search the house.” He’d have to give her a ride back, since he’d been the one to bring her there for her safety while they processed the scene and bandaged up her hand.
“Thank you. I know this isn’t easy.” Allen remained sitting as if he knew that his size left her a little unsteady. Her heart hitched slightly, and she mentally put a stop to that. She should know better. Police officers always put everyone else above family. Her last relationship should’ve been enough to remind her for a lifetime that cops didn’t make good friends, and definitely not good boyfriends.
“It’s not, but I need to do this to get my father back alive.”