This Fallen Prey (Rockton #3)(16)

“I am.” She straightens and meets Dalton’s gaze. “I can do this. Whatever you think of me, Eric, I believe I am more, and I’d like the opportunity to prove it.”

He mutters, “Fuck.” It’s like when Nicole asked to join the militia after her ordeal. I wanted to say no. Tell her to take more time. Not to push it. But I understood that need to push. Val is trying to step up. She’s trying to be a valuable member of the community. Unless we are vehemently against her doing this, it’s difficult to deny her that opportunity.

“Fine,” Dalton says. “You have a week. If it doesn’t go anywhere, I’m pulling you out.”



Val wants to start right away. As hard as she fought for this task, once the meeting breaks up, I can tell she’s having second thoughts. Yet when I offer her the chance to change her mind, that only solidifies it. She wants to meet him now. Before she loses her nerve.

Val and I walk into the station, talking town business. I give her some files. As she’s preparing to leave, I ask her to send Kenny in to relieve me for lunch. She goes . . . and returns to say he’s been called off and she’ll stay instead. I hem and haw, but she insists.

I tell her I’ll be back in thirty minutes. I actually do leave—I go for coffee at the bakery—but I’ve warned Kenny to keep an ear on that door.

When I return, it’s with Dalton, and it hasn’t been nearly thirty minutes. She knows to expect that, and when we walk in, she acts surprised, scurrying from the cell room.

“Sheriff,” she says.

“Everything okay?” Dalton slows, his gaze moving from Brady to Val.

She stammers a response, and she overdoes it, but Brady doesn’t seem to notice and comes to her rescue with, “We were just talking about my meals. I need more protein. And I’d like hand weights. Twenty-pounders.”

“If you don’t get the weights, you won’t need the protein,” Dalton drawls, but when Brady’s lips tighten, he says, “We’ll arrange trips to the gym later. We’re not giving you dumbbells, though. We call those weapons.”

“Oh, I think that’s overstating the matter,” Val says.

“Then you think wrong,” Dalton says. “Now, if you’ll excuse us . . .”

Val bristles. Dalton turns his back on her. Brady follows the exchange and allows himself the smallest of smiles.





9





It’s now day five, and we need to get Brady out of that cell. Time for his first walk.

Anders, Dalton, and I lead Brady into the forest through the station back door. I’ve removed his gag, and he’s trudging along, gaze down, docile and quiet. We make it three steps before he spots a woman by the forest’s edge and raises his bound hands.

“Help me,” he says. “Please. This is a mistake. They’re going to—”

“Yeah,” Nicole says. “You definitely want to keep that gag on.”

She walks to Brady. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I look like a gullible passerby? There aren’t any of those here. You know what is here? People who’ll take one look at scum like you and—”

He snaps forward to crack heads with her, but Nicole pulls back and their foreheads barely graze. Then she plows her fist into Brady’s stomach, and he staggers, gasping in pain.

“Like I said,” she says. “Don’t bother.”

She continues past him. Moving out of his field of vision so he doesn’t see her flushed face and quickened breathing. I resisted bringing her on this walk. She’s militia, which means she’s trained for it, but she became militia after her ordeal. I understand her need to get past that, toughen up and move forward. I also know the dangers of doing it too fast, and that quickened breathing tells me that as badass as the encounter looked, she’s quaking inside.

While Dalton replaces Brady’s gag, I look over and Nicole mouths, Please. I know she means please let her come. I nod.

We’ve barely taken three steps when Dalton hears something, and we see a trio of residents, who just happen to have decided to stroll along the town border. Brady turns their way, his head bowed, bound hands lowered. He makes no move to get their attention, but he does, of course. He looks as pathetic as he had for Nicole.

Please help me.

They’ve made a mistake. You see that, don’t you?

He says something against the gag, and I don’t even think it’s words. It’s not meant to be. He’s just drawing their attention to his situation.

This is the dilemma we face. Remove the gag, and Brady can plead his case. Leave it on, and the very gag pleads it for him.

Look at me.

Look what they’re doing to me.

“You done gawking?” Dalton says to the trio. “Come over and take a closer look. See if Nicki has a bruise yet, from where he head-butted her.”

Of course, there isn’t a mark, but that’s enough to make them decide to head back into town.

We set out. As we walk, Anders glances at me, as if feeling the urge to make small talk. I’m not sure that’s wise, though. It feels too easy to let something slip, something that might suggest Brady isn’t in Alaska.

Except that’s not all he knows. He has seen faces. Heard names, even if they’re fake. We are making an enemy here, one who does not seem like a stupid man. One who is not going to forget us.