“How you folks doing?” he asked. His voice was deep, a little raspy.
“Just fine,” Cain said.
The man didn’t move. “Mind if I ask what you’re doing?”
“Same thing you are. Looking for a black SUV. The one that snatched Dr. Buckner.”
“You mean like the one you’re driving?”
Cain jumped from the wall. The man’s back stiffened, his right hand dropped to his side. Toward the weapon Cain knew he must have on his hip.
“You might want to stay where you are, partner.”
“You must be one of Chief Crowe’s deputies,” Harper said.
“That’s a fact.”
“We just had a chat with Cassie. Down at the hospital.”
“You on a first name basis with her?”
Harper stepped off the wall and walked to where Cain stood. She smiled. “She said that’s what we should call her.”
“I see.”
“We were hired by Dr. Buckner’s father to find him,” Cain said. “I’m Bobby Cain. This is Harper McCoy.”
“William Hackford. Folks call me Hack.” He looked around, settled on Cain, then Harper. “You telling me his father called you? This quickly? We just found out about it a few hours ago.”
“He called us maybe three, four hours ago,” Harper said. “We came over from Nashville.”
“Nashville? Who are you guys?”
“We do private work.”
“That’s pretty vague. What kind of work?”
“It varies,” Cain said. “But kidnappings and missing persons are sometimes the job.”
Hack hooked a thumb in his belt. “You guys look like you’re dressed for combat.”
“We are,” Cain said. “With kidnappings you never know what might happen. Best to be prepared.”
Hack gave a slight nod as if he understood. He waved a hand. “What brought you up here?”
“High ground,” Harper said. She held up her binocs. “Getting the lay of the land. These night vision glasses help.”
“Night vision? I’ve heard of those. Never seen them though.”
Cain held out his pair. “Take a look.”
Hack walked toward them and took the binocs. He scanned the city for a couple of minutes and then handed them back to Cain. “If that don’t beat all.” His cell buzzed. He answered. “Yeah.” Listened. “Okay. See you there in five.” Hack slipped the phone in his pocket. “Got to run. The chief wants a pow wow.”
“Mind if we join you?”
“I ’spect that’d be up to her.”
“We’ll follow you,” Harper said.
“Gracie’s Tavern. It ain’t far.”
CHAPTER 18
Gracie’s Tavern, a typical small-town café, was already bustling when Cain and Harper arrived. They followed Hack through the front door. A dozen tables were occupied by hunters, farmer types, and locals, loading up on eggs, bacon, and pancakes. The aromas reminded Cain that he and Harper had eaten little in the past twelve hours. He saw Cassie at a table toward the back with two young officers. Hack led them that way.
“Mind if we join you?” Cain asked.
“They followed me here,” Hack said. “I guess we should keep them.” He tossed Harper a wink.
Cassie smiled, then nodded toward a pair of empty chairs. “Don’t see any reason why not. You were kind enough to help with the search. I take it since I didn’t hear from you that nothing turned up.”
“Nothing.”
Cassie introduced the two younger officers: Rick Fowler and Scotty Duckworth.
A middle-aged waitress poured coffee. Welcome on a cold, drizzly morning. Orders were taken and conversation laced with a hint of sleep-deprived giddiness followed. Not completely lighthearted since a kidnapping was still in progress and they had no clue where to look, but relaxed and friendly. A small southern town staple regardless of the situation.
They learned that Cassie had been chief for two years, having taken over when Hack stepped down. Said he was too old and too tired for the job. Cassie jabbed him, saying he had more energy than Rick and Scotty put together. Hack, in turn, had inherited the job from Cassie’s father who had been chief for nearly two decades. Killed in the line of duty. A shootout at a rural meth lab. Being the chief’s daughter, Cassie had hung around the station from age ten and often did odd jobs and typing. She took a more or less official part-time position while in high school. After graduation, she joined the force. She had been there just over a year when her father was killed.
“What about you guys?” Cassie asked. “You were pretty vague about exactly what you do.”
“Things like this,” Cain said. “Find folks who are in trouble.”
“You any good at it?” Hack asked.
Harper smiled. “We are. We were trained by the best.”
“Oh?”
“Me, the US Navy. Bobby, the US Army.”
Hack ran a finger around the lip of his coffee cup. “I know lots of ex-military folks. Some are pretty sharp; others couldn’t find their way into or out of a paper bag.”
Cain gave a thumbnail of their careers. Leaving out most of it.
“So you guys are partners in this…whatever it is you do?” Cassie asked. “I’m still not sure I grasp it all.”
“We’re actually brother and sister,” Harper said.
Fowler stared at her. “Brother and sister?”
“Yeah, we get that reaction a lot,” Harper said. “We were raised by the same family. Until around age twelve, anyway.”
Cain added, “Our family wasn’t the picket fence variety. More like gypsies.”
“And this family adopted you both?” Cassie asked.
“Sort of,” Cain said. “I was apparently abandoned in a bus station in Houston. Two months old. The family scooped me up from a waiting room bench.” He nodded toward Harper. “The story is she was purchased from her mother for a few bucks and a couple of
