Cut and Run(23)



“Sad, maybe. But she wasn’t worried or nothing. She passed me and wasn’t more than fifty feet ahead when a dark pickup came out of nowhere. When the truck hit her, she flew through the air like a rag doll. She hit the ground so hard I thought she was dead. Freaked me out, and I went running toward her screaming. Officer Holcombe came to the rescue right away.”

“You’ve met the woman before?” Hayden asked.

The old man shook his head. “I’ve never seen her before.”

“And she just came up to you?” Hayden asked.

“Yep. Came out of nowhere.”

“Did she say why she was here?” Brogan asked.

“No.”

“We got more black pickups in Texas than I can shake a stick at,” Hayden said. “Did you happen to recognize the driver?”

“No. Never saw the face. But I think it was a guy. Driver had on a baseball hat,” Sammy said. “It all happened in seconds.”

“Thank you, Sammy,” Hayden said.

“Is she still alive?”

“So far,” Hayden said.

“I saw a guy fly like that once,” Sammy said. “After an IED blew up. He lost his legs. And he was screaming something terrible. But this woman that was hit tonight . . .” He paused to steady his voice and press fingertips to his tearing eyes. “She didn’t scream.”

Hayden patted the man on the shoulder, waiting for him to steady himself before he turned to the policewoman. “Officer Holcombe, are there security cameras posted along the street?”

Holcombe nodded. “Several of the businesses around here have them. And there’s my body camera and dashcam footage.”

“I’ll want to see that right away.” Hayden fished out a twenty from his pocket. “Officer, can you buy Sammy a meal?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“Keep me posted on how she’s doing?” Holcombe said. “She’s one of us.”

“I will.” Hayden’s phone rang, and he saw his sister’s name on the display. He walked away from Sammy, Brogan, and Holcombe. “Kate.”

“I made calls regarding Macy Crow.” Her tone was clipped and sounded slightly annoyed.

It was always directly to the point with Kate. No “How are you doing?” or “How’s the weather?” Small talk was foreign to his sister. However, when Sierra died and Kate had been in northern Maine leading an investigation, she’d driven three hours to the nearest airport and taken a red-eye so she could be present at the funeral. He’d not spoken to her or anyone that day. He’d been so broken and angry. After the visitation at their mother’s house, Kate had left Austin. These days, he and his sister shared a mutual respect and had each other’s backs, but no one would ever describe them as warm and sensitive.

“Give me what you have,” he said.

“Macy Sunday Crow, age thirty, was attached to Quantico, Virginia. She’s also spent time in the Denver, Seattle, and Kansas City field offices.”

“She looks much younger than thirty.” He’d thought the same about Faith and had been surprised when Sierra had told him she was a pathologist.

“For the last six years, she’s worked juvenile sex trafficking cases because she can pass as a teenager. She broke a big case about two months ago and was just promoted. On Sunday, she called her boss, said her father had died and she was taking personal time.”

“Does she have a boyfriend or other family?”

“No to a boyfriend and yes to a brother who lives in the Austin area. I have no address for the brother.”

Neither did he. So far there’d been no sign of Jack Crow’s son. “Any cases she was working that might have triggered this attack?”

“Like I said, that human trafficking case was big. According to the woman’s file, she’s not afraid to mix it up. She’ll throw down with the best of them.”

Kate could have been describing Faith. “Thanks, Kate.”

“Of course.”

“Have you called Mom lately?” He didn’t get Kate on the phone often, but had promised never to let her go without trying to connect.

He could hear the gears in her very linear brain shifting from professional to personal. “She’s on a cruise with three of her girlfriends from church.”

“She’s actually back. I saw her two days ago. She says she’s left you messages.”

“I’m working a case.”

Kate was obsessive when she was working. “Call Mom, Kate. She worries.”

“Understood.”

“When are you going to do it?”

She sighed.

When they had been kids, he had teased her a lot, and he always knew he had gotten under her skin when she sighed.

“I’ll wake her up if I do it now.”

“She won’t care, Kate. Call now.”

“Will do.”

“Perfect.” He dropped his voice a notch. “Be careful.”

“Back at you.”

The line went dead, and he returned to Brogan. “Any sign of anything else she might have dropped?”

“Nothing other than the backpack. The paramedics did say she was wearing her service weapon.”

Mary Burton's Books