Chapter 2 - The Sirens Changed Which Criminal Was Afraid FirstThe first patrol car arrived three minutes later.
To Delia, it felt like thirty.
Nash remained beside his motorcycle while she knelt on the pavement.
He had not chased Royce.
He had not chased Leon, Wade, or Micah either.
Delia expected him to.
Movies had taught her police officers always ran after fleeing suspects.
Nash did something much less dramatic.
He stayed with the person he had.
Her.
When the patrol vehicle stopped, two officers stepped out.
One called:
"Mercer?"
"I'm good."
The other looked toward Delia.
"What happened?"
"Attempted robbery. Four additional suspects fled."
Delia listened as Nash gave short descriptions.
No exaggeration.
No performance.
He didn't describe himself as brave.
Didn't mention that five people had surrounded him.
Didn't mention how close Royce's hand had come to whatever he carried beneath his coat.
He simply gave facts.
A second cruiser arrived.
Then a third.
The dark road that had belonged to Royce ten minutes earlier filled with lights.
Delia stared at them.
For the first time in months, she felt relief.
That frightened her almost as much as arrest.
An officer secured her wrists.
She didn't resist.
Nash crouched several feet away.
"Anyone injured?"
She shook her head.
"Did any of them have weapons?"
Delia looked toward the trees.
"I don't know."
The officer beside her laughed once.
"You don't know?"
Delia stared at the pavement.
Nash didn't laugh.
"Don't guess."
She looked up.
He meant it.
"If you know, answer. If you don't, don't."
Delia swallowed.
"Royce sometimes carries one."
"Royce is the man who grabbed you?"
"Yes."
"Last name?"
Silence.
The other officer leaned closer.
"You might want to start helping yourself."
Nash said:
"Give her a second."
Delia almost became angry.
Why was he being decent?
She had lured him here.
She had lied about being pregnant.
She had demanded his property.
He had every right to hate her.
Instead, he waited.
"Danner," she whispered.
"Royce Danner."
The officers exchanged looks.
One immediately stepped toward his radio.
Nash noticed.
"You know him?"
"Name's familiar."
The officer made a call.
Delia closed her eyes.
Of course Royce was familiar.
He bragged that nobody could prove anything.
That wasn't the same as nobody knowing him.
They moved Delia toward a cruiser.
Then Nash walked over to the fake pregnancy pad.
It lay in the road where she'd thrown it.
"Leave it," another officer said.
"Evidence team will handle it."
Nash stopped.
Delia's stomach tightened.
Inside that pad was something Royce did not know she still carried.
Not money.
Not drugs.
Something worse.
She turned toward Nash.
"Officer."
He looked.
Delia hesitated.
Every instinct told her to stay silent.
Royce always said silence kept people alive.
But Royce had run.
Left her.
Exactly as Eli once warned he would.
Nash waited.
Delia looked toward the fake belly.
"Don't let them lose that."
One officer frowned.
"We're not going to lose evidence."
Delia shook her head.
"There's something inside."
Nash studied her.
"What?"
"I can't say out here."
"Why?"
"Because if Royce has anyone listening—"
The second officer interrupted.
"Nobody's listening."
Delia looked at him.
"You don't know that."
The man's expression changed.
Nash stepped closer.
"What is inside?"
Delia whispered:
"A key."
Nash waited.
"To what?"
"I don't know."
That sounded ridiculous.
The officer beside her sighed.
Nash didn't.
"Who gave it to you?"
Delia's throat tightened.
"My brother."
"Where is he?"
She looked at the darkness.
"I don't know."
"Name?"
"Eli Voss."
"How long has he been missing?"
Delia blinked.
She hadn't said missing.
Nash had understood anyway.
"Four months."
"Did you report it?"
"No."
"Why?"
Delia laughed weakly.
"Because Royce told me Eli had gone to Kansas City."
"You believed him?"
"No."
"Then why no report?"
She looked at Nash.
"Because Eli worked for Royce."
The officer beside her became more interested.
"Doing what?"
Delia stared.
"The same thing I was doing tonight."
Silence.
Nash's expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just focus.
"Roadside robberies?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"I don't know."
"How many did you participate in?"
Delia's eyes dropped.
"Nine."
The officer exhaled.
Nash remained still.
"Anyone hurt?"
"Not when I was there."
"That isn't the same as nobody."
"I know."
Her voice cracked.
"I know."
The officer started guiding her toward the cruiser.
Delia turned again.
"Please."
Nash stopped.
"The key."
"I heard you."
"Eli said if anything happened to him, I needed to keep it away from Royce."
"Why?"
"He said it could prove who Royce was working for."
Nash frowned.
"Royce is working for someone?"
Delia looked toward the road where he disappeared.
"Royce likes people to think he's the biggest man in every room."
"Isn't he?"
"No."
That answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Nash watched her.
"Who is?"
Delia shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Did Eli?"
"I think he found out."
"And then disappeared."
She nodded.
An evidence technician arrived.
The pregnancy pad was photographed.
Opened carefully.
Inside the fabric lining, officers found a small brass key wrapped in electrical tape.
No label.
No number.
Just three letters scratched into one side.
CRW.
Nash looked at Delia.
"Mean anything?"
Her face changed.
"Maybe."
"What?"
She swallowed.
"Caleb Rowe."
The officer beside Nash went still.
"You know that name?"
Delia nodded.
Barely.
Nash looked between them.
"Who is Caleb Rowe?"
The officer answered.
"Missing person."
"How long?"
"About six months."
Delia stared at the key.
"He was one of them."
"One of what?"
Her lips trembled.
"One of the people who stopped."
Nash felt the night shift away from a robbery investigation.
"Stopped for you?"
"No."
Delia looked at him.
"For another girl."
Nash understood.
Another bait.
Another road.
Another good Samaritan.
"What happened to him?"
Delia's eyes filled.
"I don't know."
"Royce does?"
"I think so."
Nash looked toward the dark tree line where Royce had vanished.
Then Delia whispered:
"Eli said Caleb was different."
"Different how?"
"He didn't just lose his wallet."
She looked at the brass key again.
"He found out why they were collecting them."
Nash frowned.
"Collecting what?"
"The victims."
The word hung in the air.
Delia shook her head.
"I thought we were robbing people."
Nash stared.
"You weren't?"
She looked terrified.
May you like
"Not all of them."
And suddenly the fake pregnancy was no longer the worst lie Nash had heard that night.
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