Page 34 of Legends: Easton (Legends of Fire Creek #3)

Bailee laughed at a joke Ben made, but then her gaze wandered back to the bar.

The woman filling drink orders looked almost as overwhelmed as the waitresses covering the tables.

She let her gaze drift around the bar, looking for the familiar face that occupied her thoughts.

But she never saw that charming smile, smoldering brown eyes, or broad back that bore her fingernail scratches beneath his T-shirt.

Where had Easton gone?

“Bailee? You okay?”

She whipped her head back around to find Melody studying her curiously. Melody’s question brought all eyes on her, and Bailee squirmed under the stares.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Their server stopped by their table, giving them a harried smile before she nudged Jackson.

“Hey, can you help us out? Whatever Easton’s doing in the kitchen is taking a while, and we could really use Sandy back on the floor waiting tables instead of taking drink orders at the bar.”

Jackson twisted against the booth to peer over his shoulder then nodded. “Sure. Let me relieve Easton in the kitchen and get him back to his post.”

Relief flooded the young woman’s expression. “Thanks, boss. We appreciate it.”

Jackson kissed Reagan and rose to head toward the kitchen, but Bailee saw the expression that crossed his face before he could mask it. Concern. Something had nagged at her when she noticed Easton stayed gone longer than she expected, but now, seeing his brother bothered as well, her gut churned.

“Do you mind if I come too? Maybe I can help with whatever has Easton tied up.” She attempted to cover her worry behind her good-natured tone, but she wasn’t sure anyone at her table bought it.

Jackson studied her a moment before he nodded. “Sure. Come on.”

She tried to keep calm as she followed behind him. Smiling at the waitress tending bar, she kept Jackson’s back in her sight as they stepped through the door leading from the main area to the kitchen.

“Hey, Marty.”

Bailee stepped from behind Jackson to see whom he greeted. The man stood a couple of inches shorter than her and carried a good fifty pounds of extra weight on his frame. His head was clean shaven, making his deep-set blue eyes pop. He lifted his chin in acknowledgment as he pulled on an oven mitt.

Steam billowed from the oven when he opened it, and he pulled out a pan loaded with potato skins. The thick slices were covered with bubbly cheese, and he started sprinkling bacon pieces and diced green onions over the top.

Jackson scanned the kitchen before turning his attention back to Marty. “Hey, where’s Easton?”

Marty slipped off the oven mitt and wiped his palms down the front of his apron. “Haven’t seen him since he took the trash out. I was cooking up orders so I could have missed him. Did you check in the office?”

Bailee did her own visual scan of the kitchen. “Which way to the dumpster?”

Jackson nodded toward a heavy gray door at the back. “Through there.”

She turned to face him. “I’ll check out there. You check the office?”

He hesitated a moment, as if sizing her up, and then nodded. “Okay. He’s probably on the phone or something and lost track of time.”

She pursed her lips. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

Jackson’s expression was unreadable. “I don’t jump to conclusions. I follow the facts.”

“Fair enough. I’ll look around and come find you if he’s not outside.”

She didn’t wait for his reply before she hurried toward the door. Stepping out, she jumped when the door slammed behind her, echoing in the alley — the same alley Clive Melvin dragged her to when he tried to abduct her.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she knelt and pulled her weapon from its ankle holster. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to have it in her hand, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding that something bad was happening.

She studied her surroundings and only moved when she noticed nothing was amiss.

Walking stealthily, she looked for signs that Easton had been there.

She didn’t hear any noises outside of the usual nighttime sounds.

Circling the dumpster, she felt her unease heighten though she found no evidence to justify her anxiety.

She made her way down the alley toward the parking lot. There was nothing. No footprints. No drag marks. No signs of a struggle. If the cook hadn’t told her Easton had gone outside, she would have assumed he hadn’t left the bar at all.

Mentally chastising herself for overreacting, she started to head back inside when she spotted something in the gravel.

Using her cell’s flashlight, she investigated.

The piece of black plastic was fractured as if someone dropped it to the ground and broke it.

Or stepped on it. She couldn’t be sure which.

Using the hem of her shirt to cover her hand, she moved the plastic until it flipped over, confirming it was a crushed cell phone. The screen lit up, and she saw a text notification on the lock screen. A message from Jackson. She found Easton’s cell, but no Easton.

Using her shirt to carry it without smudging any fingerprints that could be on it, she scooped up the phone. Flipping the safety on her gun and tucking it out of sight in the ankle holster, she headed back inside.

Ben met her at the door, and she didn’t like the thunderous expression on his face.

“I found his phone. Someone crushed it and left it in the parking lot,” she said before he could tell her what had him upset.

Ben motioned for her to follow him. “We checked the security footage. You need to see this.”

Bailee’s stomach dipped as her heart quickened. The crowd parted as Ben led the way through the bar toward the back. Ben had her precede him into a back room where his brothers and their women sat waiting for her. Luke was positioned behind a computer and barely acknowledged her entrance.

“What did you find?” She hastened over to stand behind Luke, and Jackson moved to the side to give her room. She deposited Easton’s busted phone on the desk before focusing on the laptop’s monitor.

Luke used the mouse to key up the video, showing a view of the alley where the dumpster was.

There wasn’t any audio, but she didn’t need it to understand what she was seeing.

Easton was addressing someone in the alley.

Then he began to circle around the person, moving cautiously as he shifted positions.

Then Bailee was able to see that Clive Melvin was the reason Easton was on the defensive.

Everyone else in the room faded from her consciousness as she focused on the tape.

She held her breath as she waited to see what unfolded.

She watched them square off without either making the first move.

Then she saw Easton whirl around with his back to Melvin, a crazy move he wouldn’t have made unless…

A second later he dropped to his knees, but she couldn’t see exactly what caused him to fall. Then something moved behind him, confirming what she suspected. Melvin didn’t come alone. A figure stepped into view, and Bailee blinked in surprise, her jaw dropping.

“What. The. Hell.”

Her cell phone rang as if on cue. She pulled it from her pocket only to see a blocked number. She didn’t need caller ID to know who was calling. Stepping away from the others, keeping her back turned, she steeled herself before answering.

“What do you want?” Her tone was abrupt, and she wanted the caller to know she wouldn’t play games.

“You.”

The voice was unfamiliar to her, but after watching the security footage, she knew who was on the phone.

“Well, you missed. You kidnapped the bartender, and I’ve been here all night.”

“Pretending makes you look like a fool, Officer. We know how important he is to you. If you want him back, then you’ll do exactly as I say.”

Whether she addressed Bailee as a lower rank on purpose or out of ignorance, Bailee couldn’t be sure, but if Easton’s captor thought the move would irritate Bailee, she was wrong. Bailee’s rank was the last thing on her mind as she tried to figure out the best way to proceed.

“Why are you doing this? Easton had nothing to do with what happened.”

“But he has everything to do with you.”

Bailee closed her eyes at the pain piercing her heart. She hoped her voice sounded cool when she replied. “Are we really doing this? You expect me to believe if I follow your demands, you’ll let him go unharmed?”

“I never said I wouldn’t harm him. How badly depends on you, Officer.”

Rage coursed through her body. “You blame me for what happened with the Blood Disciples. I get it. If you want me to apologize for doing my job, I won’t.”

“You stupid bitch. I don’t care about them. I never did.”

“Sure you did,” Bailee challenged. “You were their slave. Whoring yourself to anyone with a dick just to get your next fix. When I took down the BDs, I destroyed everything you had. Your life is nothing without them, Sabra, and we both know it.”

Instead of lashing out, Sabra Barnes laughed, the sound making the fine hair on Bailee’s neck stand on end.

“I don’t need them. I used them, you stupid bitch.

You did me a favor by putting them in jail.

You’re right about one thing, though. I want revenge, but it sure as hell isn’t because of Roland or Terrence or the rest of them.

No, I want you to pay for murdering my daughter. ”

Bailee inhaled deeply to slow down her rapid heart rate. “Your grudge is not with me, Sabra. I wasn’t the one who killed Shantyale.”

“Shut up, whore! You are the reason she’s dead, and I’ve made sure you’ll pay a hefty price for what you’ve done. Keep your phone close. I’ll be in touch with further instructions.”

“Wait!” Bailee shouted. “I want proof that Easton is all right, or you’ll get nothing from me.”

The call ended, and Bailee screamed in frustration, stopping short of throwing her phone against the wall. Then the text came through. When she opened it, she felt her blood run cold.