Ten years ago

Brody Dunberg hated nights like this. Hours of driving around the small town of Gorge City, Colorado, with no calls coming in, meant a very long twelve-hour shift. After graduating from the police academy at the age of twenty-two, Brody and his best friend Callum McCloud had chosen to return to their hometown and accept positions with their local police department. That had been almost five years ago, and he’d never regretted returning to the easy life of a small town. Well, almost never. Tonight, he was beginning to have second thoughts.

Brody turned the corner onto Winter Street, when his radio came to life. “Brody, we just received a nine-one-one regarding a domestic disturbance at 612 Locust. Sheila Harris called. She believes Gerald Jenkins might have beaten Annabel. Sheila said she heard Annabel screaming just before Gerald left the house and took off in his pickup.”

Brody pressed down on the accelerator and headed for Locust Street. “I’m heading over to there now, Betty. Do me a favor and see if you can get Annabel on the phone. No sense scaring her more than she probably already is.”

“I’ll try that number right now, Brody.”

The thought of someone hurting Bel made Brody’s blood boil. She was such a nice girl who had been working in the clinic for his dad for the last few months, and Brody had gotten to know her well. He stopped in front of Sheila’s house as the elderly woman came out onto the porch, wearing an old blue and white bathrobe. Brody climbed out of the car then approached the Jenkins house. He held up his hand to stop Sheila when she started to cross the yard.

Sheila stopped in her tracks. “I’ve heard a lot of things from that house over the years, but nothing like I did tonight. Gerald was screaming at that sweet girl so loud I could hear him through the open window. I was trying to decide whether or not to call when I heard it.”

When Mrs. Harris pressed her hand to her mouth and shook her head, Callum prompted. “What did you hear?”

“Bel screaming.” She shook her head again.

Brody pointed to Sheila’s house. “Get inside and someone will be by to take your statement.” He unsnapped his gun holster as he headed for the Jenkins house.

“Gerald’s not in there,” Sheila called. “He left soon after the noise stopped. That’s when I called the police.”

The radio attached to Brody’s belt squawked, and Betty told him there was no answer.

Brody knocked. “Bel? It’s Brody. I’m coming in.”

When no one answered, Brody tried the knob and found it unlocked. He opened the door then leaned inside. “Bel, are you all right?” Nothing. Brody walked into the house with his hand on his sidearm. With Gerald gone, he saw no reason to draw his weapon, but something didn’t feel right. “Bel?”

He walked down the hall toward the bedrooms. “It’s Brody from the Gorge City Police Department, can you hear me?”

As he made his way down the dark hallway, the hairs on Brody’s neck prickled. He had a gut feeling that Bel’s continued silence wasn’t a matter of fear anymore. He moved to the first bedroom door and flung it open. He flipped on the light and scanned the space. Finding it empty, he continued to the next room. The smell of copper hit him the second he opened the door. “Bel?” He was searching for the switch when he heard a noise coming from the opposite side of the bed. He used the faint light coming from the hallway to cross the room. He stepped over Bel to turn on the bedside lamp so he could better assess her condition. “Fuck!” Naked and badly beaten, Bel was lying in a pool of her own blood. Brody swallowed several times to get his gag reflex under control.

He grabbed his radio as he searched the area for something to press against the wound on Bel’s neck. “Betty, this is Brody. Call my dad and send him over here immediately, and put a call into Colorado Springs General Hospital. We need a helicopter on the ground as soon as possible, and send one of the deputies to secure the crime scene until we can get someone from the county down here.” He wanted to add they’d need a rape kit, but didn’t know how many people around town owned a police scanner. Bel would be gossiped about enough without adding in the possibility of rape. Surely his dad would have one.

“I’m on it. Anything else?” Betty asked.

“Pray.”

Brody ran to the bathroom and retrieved a towel before kneeling beside the small, bloody body of sixteen-year-old Bel Jenkins. Even though he’d been trained in first aid, he wasn’t sure what to do in this instance. Should he apply pressure to the open neck wound? If he did, would he do more damage than good? He covered the open wound with the towel. Brody gently took her wrist and felt for a pulse. He knew she was alive because he could hear every gurgling breath, but he needed to know how strong her heart was beating. He was surprised to find it weak, but steady, despite the presence of so much blood.

Brody grabbed his radio once more. “Betty, what’s my dad’s ETA?”

Betty sounded distressed as she answered his call. “Joe said it would take him five minutes to gather his bag and get there. The air ambulance is on the way, but I need to tell them what to expect and where to land.”

Closing his eyes, Brody shook his head. “Bel’s had her throat slashed, but from her pulse, the cut didn’t hit an artery. Tell the helicopter to set down at the end of Locust in Rainey’s field. I’ll have Dad help me get her there if he says she can be moved. Tell them if we’re not there when they land to bring the gurney eight houses down the street on the north side of the road.”

Brody signed off and turned back to Bel. He wanted to pick her up and cradle her in his arms, but he knew that would be a serious no-no. Instead, he lay on the floor next to her and tried his best to soothe her. It suddenly hit him that Bel was unconscious, so the only person soothed by his position was him.

He’d always loved his town. How could something so vile happen here? Brody had known Annabel since she was just a kid. When her mom had died two years earlier in a car accident, he’d attended the funeral. Annabel, or Bel as she preferred to be called, had seemed like a happy person. She was always laughing and smiling whenever Brody saw her. What went on in this house tonight?

The front door slammed shut, and Brody reached for his gun. Pulling it out of the holster on his hip, he tried to cover Bel’s body with his own.

“Brody?”

Brody sighed and re-holstered his weapon. “In the second bedroom, Dad.”

Joe Dunberg walked into the room and unbuckled his black leather bag. He motioned for Brody to get out of the way as he knelt beside Bel. As his father assessed her condition, Brody studied the bedroom for the first time. A pile of clothes in the corner caught his attention. He stepped closer to investigate. Not wanting to contaminate evidence, he used a pen from his pocket to hold up one of the articles of clothing.

Brody bit the inside of his cheek. He dangled a torn blouse that had obviously been ripped from her body. The rest of the clothes in the pile were in the same condition. He glanced at the bed. The fitted sheet had been wrestled from the corners of the mattress. Upon closer examination, Brody’s original fears were confirmed. From the looks of the small stains of seminal fluid and blood, Gerald Jenkins had forcibly taken his own daughter’s virginity.

Brody picked up his radio once more. “Any word on Gerald?”

“No. They’re still looking,” Betty replied.

“Let me know when they find him,” Brody said.

“Will do. I’ve already called Chief Dylan and he’s down with the flu, but I’m keeping him updated.”

“I’ll tell you more when I can get to a phone. I don’t want to say too much over the radio.” Brody signed off and went back to where his dad was working on Bel.

“I don’t suppose you have a rape kit in that bag of yours, do you?” Brody asked his dad.

Joe shook his head. “Nope, but we’ll tell the helicopter guys and they can inform the hospital.”

Brody squatted next to his dad. “How is she?”

“If the helicopter gets here fast enough, she should make it. It’s a damn good thing that bastard didn’t know what the hell he was doing.” Joe gestured to the wound on Bel’s neck. “Lucky for her, he missed the major arteries.”

Brody met his dad’s gaze. “Can we move her to the field at the end of the road? That’s where the helicopter will be setting down.”

Joe looked at Bel’s neck once more and nodded. “Run into the bathroom and get a clean towel. As long as we keep some pressure on the wound, she should be able to make it there.”

Brody grabbed a sunny yellow towel from the shelf above the toilet. As he walked toward his dad, he heard muffled cries coming from Bel. “She’s awake?”

Joe took the towel and wound it around Bel’s neck. “She’s waking up, but it would be better if she didn’t. If you can carry her, I’ll walk beside you and keep pressure on it.”

Brody nodded and took a deep breath before gathering the naked Bel into his arms. “Find something to cover her.”

Joe left the room and returned with an old sheet to drape over Bel.

Brody carried her down the street as fast as he could while his father tried to apply pressure to the neck wound.

At one point Bel attempted to raise her head. Brody squeezed her closer to him. “Shh, it’s all right. You’re gonna be fine.”

She opened her eyes and stared at Brody. By the confused expression on Bel’s face, Brody decided to lay it out for her. “I’m taking you to a helicopter that’ll fly you to the hospital in Colorado Springs. They’ll take good care of you, but I need to know where your father is. Do you know where Gerald would go?”

Bel stiffened in Brody’s arms.

Shit. Brody hadn’t meant to frighten her. “I want to find him and put him away so he can never hurt you again.”

“Dad,” she said with tears in her eyes. “W…Wal…Wally’s,” Bel managed to croak. She put her head back down on Brody’s chest and started to cry.

“Please don’t cry. It’s okay now. We’ll take care of you.” Brody did something unprofessional and kissed the top of her head. He met the hospital technicians at the edge of the field.

He placed Bel onto the stretcher, wishing like hell that he didn’t have to let her go. He’d seen a lot of shit over the years, but he couldn’t remember ever being so affected by a victim of violence. Fuck! He turned to his dad. “I’m going to search for Gerald over in Sullivan at Wally’s Bar. You go to the hospital, and I’ll meet you there as soon as I find the bastard and get him locked up.”

Joe nodded and slapped his son on the back. “Be careful. If Gerald can do that to his own daughter I’d say he’s capable of just about anything.”

Brody ran back to his cruiser. He reached it just as the helicopter took off. He picked up the car radio. “Hey, Callum, you out there?”

The radio crackled. “I’m here.”

Brody started the car. “I’m headed over to Sullivan. Bel thinks her father can be found at Wally’s Bar. Want to meet me there?”

“I’ll be there. I’ll also give the county a call. It’s technically their jurisdiction, not ours, but I’ll try to explain the circumstances. ETA ten minutes,” Callum replied.

* * * *

Brody pulled into Wally’s parking lot seven minutes later. He spotted what he was looking for. Brody took a deep breath and picked up his radio. “Betty, be advised that I’m in the parking lot of Wally’s Bar in Sullivan. Gerald Jenkins’ truck is parked out front. I’ll take him back to the station for questioning.” Brody gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Don’t you think you should wait for backup?” Betty asked.

Brody smiled. God bless small towns and motherly dispatchers. “Callum should pull up any minute.” Brody signed off and headed to the front door. He’d try to wait, but if Gerald made a move before Callum got there, he’d have no choice but to stop him on his own. No way would he let an animal like that get away with this.

When Callum arrived, Brody waved him over. “He’s in there, all right.” Brody continued pacing. He’d been trying for the last five minutes to get his anger under control, but so far nothing was working. He motioned his head toward Gerald’s old truck. “The hood’s still warm.”

Callum stepped in front of Brody to block his path. “Calm down. You won’t do this case any good if you go in there as mad as you are.”

“You didn’t see her.” Brody doubted he’d ever be able to scrub the sight from his memories.

Callum gripped Brody’s shoulder. “He’ll pay for what he did. Our job is to take him in. That’s what we have control over, so that’s what we’ll do.”

Brody nodded, knowing Callum was right. He took a deep breath and headed toward the bar. He opened the door to a blast of cigarette smoke and loud country music. He waited a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. He spotted Gerald laughing with the bartender. Anger filled Brody. How could a father rape and try to kill his own daughter and sit, not even thirty minutes later, laughing and drinking?

Handcuffs at the ready, Brody stepped up behind Gerald. “Gerald Jenkins, I’m taking you in for questioning regarding the rape and attempted murder of your daughter.”

Before Gerald had a chance to resist, Callum grabbed the back of Gerald’s neck and pressed his head to the bar top.

“What the hell’s going on here? I’m minding my own business.”

Even standing behind Gerald, Brody could see blood spatters on the man’s ratty T-shirt. What the fuck? Sure the place is a shithole, but no way could the bartender not notice. Brody locked the cuffs into place before leaning over to growl in Gerald’s ear. “I just put your daughter on a helicopter to be airlifted to Colorado Springs. I held her naked, bleeding body in my arms. Don’t you dare try to deny what you’ve done.”

Gerald chuckled. “Did you get hard holding her while she was naked? She’s nothin’ but a fuckin’ whore. Just like her momma was. But she’s got a damn fine body on her.”

Brody’s vision went red. The next thing he knew, Callum grabbed his arm. Brody shook his head to clear the haze that still surrounded him. He glanced at his fists and back down to Gerald, who obviously had a broken nose. Brody jerked his head toward Callum. What the hell did I just do?

Callum stared Brody in the eye. “Go out to your car. I’ll take it from here.”