Rising Storm (20 page)

"Sounds wonderful. I’m sure you’re working very hard. How is Eugene, I mean Noodle, doing?" Mrs. Wyatt asked.

"Miss Lily is taking real good care of him. He's doing well enough that when Dr. Francis visits, he can get up and walk her to the door… under Miss Lily's supervision of course." He had never laughed harder than when Noodle called him the other night to see if he'd arrest Miss Lily for assault with a broom.

"Well, it's getting late," Katelyn said as she rose from her seat. "I'll walk him out."

Marshall stood, said his goodnights, and thanked the Wyatts for dinner. Katelyn had been so quiet through dinner that he had desperately wanted to sit next to her, hold her hand, and reassure her that he wasn't going anywhere. As soon as they reached the front of the house he felt her tension slip away as she reached for him, laying her hand on his arm.

"Wow. That was worse than any press interview I’ve ever given." Yup, she'd been nervous alright. Dinner had been nothing compared to some of his interrogations he'd both given and received.

"It wasn't bad, Katelyn. I love your family."

She smiled and he knew the timing was right. One kiss and then he'd tell her how much he loved her. He brushed a strand of her long hair away from her face and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her against him before lowering his lips to hers.

Her body melted into his as he tightened his grip and deepened the kiss. This was it. It was the perfect moment. He broke the kiss and pulled back just far enough to look into her eyes.

"Katelyn, I have wanted to tell you something for so long now."

"And I’ve wanted to kiss you like this all night."

She leaned forward and his words were lost on her tongue. His words of love were lost in the heat of the moment and he slid his hand down and cupped her round bottom. The moment was magic. The kiss, the hands, the sound of a gun being cocked.

"Goodnight, son."

He moved his hand off of Katelyn's bottom and gave her bright-red face a quick peck before turning toward Beauford.

"Goodnight." He gave Beauford an innocent smile and then squeezed Katelyn's hand.

"Beauford, get in here or he'll never propose," Mrs. Wyatt hissed from the door.

"Oh Sweet Pea, I'll make sure he does. Don't you worry your pretty little head about that."

Propose? Shoot, he couldn't even tell Katelyn he loved her. When could he ever propose? Not that he was thinking about that, or was he?

*     *     *

Marshall took a gulp of his drink and then took another bite of the bread pudding Miss Daisy had just put down in front of him. He needed a snack before everyone met at his house to go over all the data they had put together.

"I heard you had a visitor last night," Miss Violet said as she topped off his drink.

"I did?"

"That's right. Jasmine was in here last night talking about how she was heading over to your place to spend the night. So, whose bed did your boots sleep under last night, or should I say, whose boots were under your bed?" Marshall would have been shocked if he hadn't known the Rose sisters his whole life.

"They were under my bed, all night long."

"And were you in that bed all by your lonesome?"

"No. Someone all warm and soft kept stealing my pillow."

"I knew it! That Jasmine is one sneaky and determined woman. Did I win the bet Daisy Mae?"

"Wait, are you telling me there's a bet about Bob stealing my pillow at night?"

"Bob? I thought…Oh you rascal!" She swatted him with a dishrag and tried to glare at him, but she was laughing too hard.

"I don't know Miss Violet, I’m really hurt. I can't believe you would think I’d sleep with Jasmine. You really think she's my type?"

"Goodness no. I think Katelyn's your type, but nothing is really progressing there and when Jasmine was in here bragging about you and her, I thought maybe she was the reason things were stalled with you and Katelyn."

"I have no idea what Jasmine's talking about but I won't forget you didn't have faith in me. Nope. You're going to have to make some of that delicious chocolate torte to make me forgive you." He gave her a wink as he placed some cash on the table and headed out for his meeting.

Katelyn pulled into the back of the house and parked her car. She had to go back to the clinic to check on some of her patients. It was late and she just wanted to get to bed. She walked in through the sunroom off the kitchen and found her grandma feeding slices of steak to Alice.

"Hi Nana." Katelyn looked around for Ruffles. Lately she and Alice had been attached at the hip. "Where's Ruffles?"

"She went out a while ago, but I don't think she's come back. I'll ask your grandfather."

Katelyn gave Alice a good neck scratch as she waited for her grandmother to return. Ruffles was probably just curled up in her grandfather's office.

"Sorry dear, he hasn't seen her for about an hour. She probably went into the pasture to roll in horse poo. You know how she loves to do that."

"Ugh. She does, and my old designer just sent her that really great collar! I better go find her before she ruins it."

Katelyn got up slowly and had a desire to stomp her foot. She was tired and the last thing she wanted to do was stomp through the pasture avoiding horse poop and dragging her stinky dog home. Then there was bathing and drying her hair. It would be past midnight at this point before she could go to bed.

"Take a flashlight Katelyn! It's pitch black out there. And don't go too far. Do you want me to call Joey and have him go with you?" her grandmother asked as she handed her a flashlight from the drawer.

"No thanks. I don't want to bother him when he has to get up so early in the morning. I'll be back in a couple of minutes. I’m sure she's in that pasture behind the mare's barn with all the fresh poop."

Katelyn tried to laugh at the idea of this prissy white poodle with a shiny new pink Tiffany's dog collar rolling in cow poop, but drudging through pastures this late at night knowing she was going to have to bathe said poodle wasn't too funny. She stomped down the path with the light from the flashlight bouncing as she went around the house and past the mare barn into the darkness of the night.

Chapter Seventeen

Marshall poured another cup of coffee for Dinky, refilled Annie's glass of water and tossed some treats to where Bob sat in one of the chairs before sitting down at his dining room table. The dark cherry wood was hidden under stacks of criminal reports, highlighted maps, and enlarged copies of driver's licenses. They had been working for most of the night. They pulled the records on everyone with a criminal history and worked their way down to a few suspects.

"I think these six people look promising," Marshall said as he sat back down at the table. "Although we’re just looking at a snippet of information. Now that we have some suspects based on location and local criminal history, let's run a national search on them and their families to see what we get."

"I'll run it now." Annie pulled her laptop over to her and started typing in the names one at a time and waited for the information to pop up on the screen.

"I don't know, Dink, I have a feeling about these two." Marshall tapped the pictures of Andre and Camille Watkins. "Annie, can you run them next?"

"Sure. I just got the reports back on the Simpson brothers and nothing out of the ordinary for them. They're focused more on petty crimes than anything to do with animals, guns, or drugs."

"What about this guy? He had his house condemned twice by the health department and both times they found pit bulls caged in the basement," Dinky said as he tapped a file.

"True, although they were neglected. They were skin and bones and not even close to aggressive, but we'll have Annie check him out next."

Marshall looked over the map again and focused on the areas not marked. It just seemed like too much of a coincidence that the Watkins' house was right at the mid-point of the crimes. When he placed the crimes on a map, they formed an arch and the Watkins' house was just around five miles from all the sites.

"I think we got something here," Annie said as she scanned the screen of her laptop.

"What’ve you got?" Marshall asked as he stood up to look over Annie's shoulder.

"It seems that the Watkins have a criminal history far more than what we thought. In Georgia they were arrested for animal cruelty. They had too many dogs within the Atlanta city limits and they were housed in poor conditions. When animal patrol investigated they found the dogs had been abused. There was evidence of dog fighting, but not enough to convict on that count. The dogs were all pit bulls and were taken away from them.

"The Watkins' both served three weeks in jail for abuse and as soon as they were released they moved to Lipston, Kentucky where Andre Watkins had a brother. His brother, Jerry Watkins, was arrested a short time later for felony assault and battery and illegal possession of firearms. Now, this is where it gets interesting. Jerry still owns a tract of land here in Kentucky- a tract of land that just happens to connect to the county property near the house that blew up."

"I think that's enough for a warrant, don't you?" Marshall smiled. "Dinky, call Sheriff Nuggett and fill him in, then wake up Judge Cooper and get us a warrant. Make sure you have Nuggett call as soon as a warrant comes through so we can work on this together. Annie, email everything you have to Nuggett now so he can forward it on to a judge in case we cross the county line. Then email it to Judge Cooper."

Marshall glanced at his watch - it was almost eleven. It was going to take most of the night to get everything prepared. He better get his equipment together, grab a bite to eat, and then try to get a couple hours sleep before Nuggett called.

"Nuggett said he'll call you as soon as the warrant comes in. Judge Cooper said he’d start to look everything over in a couple minutes. What do you want us to do now?" Dinky asked as he hung up the phone.

"Annie, I want you to go home for the night. You'll handle press coverage if there is any tomorrow."

"I’m guessing this is for my own good so I’ll dutifully do it. Although, I'll be really mad if I miss a shootout. You know how I love shooting bad guys," Annie mumbled as she gathered her things.

"I know. If there's shooting involved, I’ll let you do the interrogations so you don't miss all the fun," Marshall joked. Annie was a lot of fun and one damn good deputy.

"Deal! You boys don't have too much fun without me," Annie gave a little wave to the guys, a kiss to Bob, and headed to her car.

"I'll go to the station and check our supplies to get ready for the call."

"Thanks, Dinky."

Marshall rolled his shoulders to stretch and then started to clean up the dining room table. It was time to get something to eat and then check his supplies for the raid.

He stopped stacking papers when he heard a noise come from the kitchen. Dammit, if Bob was opening drawers again he was going to lose it. The other night he had come downstairs at two in the morning, after waking from another nightmare, to find Bob on his hind legs with the top drawer open and munching on a bag of chips.

"Bob! I swear, if you’re getting into my drawers again it’s dry dog food for a week for you!"

Marshall put down the papers and listened. The noise had stopped but Bob wasn't coming into the dining room pretending like he hadn't done anything wrong either.

Marshall's instincts flared to life. It wasn't Bob in the kitchen. He piled up the dishes and sauntered into the kitchen as if nothing was wrong. An island stood before him and if he was right, the person in his house was behind it. He set the dishes on the island and then picked up one dish and dropped it. The dish shattered on the tan tiled floor.

"Damn," Marshall said as he knelt down to pick up the pieces.

He picked up the largest sliver of china and palmed it as he pretended to pick up the broken pieces. He felt the air shift and knew it was time to make his move. He sprung forward and catapulted himself over his island. His hands were stretched outright to grab the guy and take him down. He felt his legs drag across the marble countertops as he plowed into the chest of the black-clad form that had risen from his hiding place.

With a whoosh of air the man fell to the ground. Marshall landed on top of him and, with a quick movement of his arm, sliced the man in black across the forearm as they struggled for power. Marshall blocked a punch and landed a solid one of his own in the man's stomach. Marshall felt the knee to his kidney and rolled away from the attack. He leapt to his feet at the same time the man in black did.

Marshall took in the black shirt, pants, and the face covered with a ski mask. He only had a second before the man charged him. He tossed the sharp shard of china into his left hand and waited. Timing was everything after all. Marshall held his ground as the man charged. At the last second he took a small step to the left. The man's momentum carried him past Marshall and he gave the man a good shove in the back. The man ran into the small kitchen table and fell to the ground with a groan.

Marshall wasted no time. He reached down and grabbed the man by the back of the neck and hauled him upright, slamming his face into the wall. He struggled and thrashed as Marshall tried to pin his arms. Marshall finally managed to grab a wrist and wrench it behind the man's back.

"What are you doing here?" Marshall growled.

"Go to hell!" the man spat.

Marshall pulled up on the man's arm harder until he shouted out in pain.

"I'll ask you one more time. Next time, the shoulder comes out. What are you doing here?"

Marshall heard the slight clicking of Bob's nails on the tile and watched out of the corner of his eyes as Bob casually strode in. Bob yawned and took a look around the kitchen before walking over to the upturned kitchen table. He jumped into one of the chairs that was still standing and stared at the man pinned to the wall.

"What's your dog doing, man? He's really freaking me out."

Marshall hid his smile behind the man's back. Bob just sat there staring the man in his eyes with a little drool hanging from his mouth. When he licked his lips Marshall narrowed his eyes as he saw that Bob's normally pink tongue was brown with melting chocolate. How on earth had he opened the cabinet upstairs where he hid his secret candy stash?