Triple Trouble: A Cassidy Callahan Novel. Kelly Rysten

in the dirt. Too much. I was wound up too tight. I had to sit. But not in the car. The car oozed stress, too. Okay, just sit. It’ll be fine.

      Michaels walked around the car and knelt down in front of me. All I could do was stare at the ground. He put his hands on my shoulders looked me in the eye. “Did Silva do this to you?” He touched my black eye gingerly.

      A single nod, “Yeah, but that’s not what hurts.”

      “I know,” he almost whispered and sat down on the ground with his shoulder against mine. I listened in stunned silence to the crackle of the police radios and the quiet talk in the background. Even with all the action and tension around me, it was relatively quiet compared to the noise of my mind for the past ten hours. The warmth felt good. Just the touch pulled some of the tension away. We sat that way while the cops closed in and did their thing.

      “Do you want to tell me about it?”

      “That’s cop talk for ‘we need the rest of the story so we can put this guy away for a long, long time.’”

      “You’re right. But it’s also from someone who knows what it’s like to be kidnapped, and beaten, and shot at. It’ll help you to get the story out.”

      A big sigh escaped, almost a sob, but I was determined not to cry. “He’s got my dog and my dinner. And I can’t go back. And you guys are going to have to watch my house for a few days.”

      He grew grim again. Long pause.

      “Why’s that?”

      “Silva is expecting company in a day or so. That’s why I was determined to get out of there today. You’ll probably want to pick him up, too. Name’s Oscar. I think he might have met with more trouble than Silva did, so there will probably be some charges filed there, too. He’ll probably be driving a stolen car. Sounded like something sporty but big enough for two guys, a bag of loot and a hostage. Something fast.”

      Michaels stood and spoke with one of the uniforms.

      “Look, I need to get back and wrap things up. Will you wait here for me?”

      I nodded numbly, “One more thing you should know.”

      He knelt down in front of me. “Yeah, what’s that?”

      “The master bedroom closet has two rifles and two pistols in it. Silva doesn’t know they are there, but if he hides back there he could discover it. He’d have ammo for a long stand off.”

      “That might be good to know, thanks. You sure you’re okay?”

      I nodded again, “I’ll be okay as soon as this is all over.”

      Michaels spoke to another officer. She came over and sat with me, but it wasn’t the same. He jogged back to my house, disappearing behind the Wilson home.

      A fire department rescue squad drove up and two paramedics jumped out and spoke to the officers standing around. One of them approached me.

      “Let’s get you checked out.”

      “I’m fine,” I said. “A little banged up but I’m not injured in any way.”

      “A black eye and three lumps on your head and you’re not injured?”

      I let him go through his routine exam and declined a ride to the hospital for further testing. All I really needed was a little peace and quiet and all the lumps and bruises would take care of themselves.

      After a while it became apparent that things were not going well for the police. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Silva was trapped in my house. How could he not be caught? I thought this would be a simple matter of breaking the door down and storming the place, but time went on and I got the distinct impression that something was wrong. A helicopter came flying overhead circling the neighborhood. I was relieved no shots had been fired, but the silence was grating on me. I was getting impatient and antsy. I was just getting up to start pacing when Michaels jogged up.

      “Silva’s not in there,” he stated. “The house is empty. There’s no sign of him in the house or the yard. That’s a good-sized fence in back and the lock is still on the gate. Any ideas where he might be?”

      “Empty house and empty yard?”

      “Yup.”

      Then I remembered! Plan B! Silva had used my Plan B and jumped my back fence using the A-frame just like I was going to!

      “I know where he is!” The two looked at me like I was nuts. “Well, I don’t know right now but I can find him.” I took off at a fast walk toward my house. I don’t know why I didn’t think to drive, maybe because you can’t track in a car and I was suddenly in tracking mode. I was only two short blocks from my street. Michaels dashed after me pulling me up.

      “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not going back there.”

      I spun around to face him. “I am and I know what I’m doing. You can come along if you stay behind me. I need to see where I’m going and what I’m doing. I won’t go too close. I promise.”

      “Why? Why do you think you have to do this?”

      “Because I can. I know I can. I know what he did to get away and I have tracked all my life. I’ve been watching him for two days. I know his walk and his mannerisms. It’s where my talent lies, in observation and tracking.” I let the determination show on my face. It’s a little hard to get my five foot four inch frame to stand up to a six-foot hunk of a guy, but I’d been doing it since I was old enough to walk and he backed off.

      I walked into my neighborhood. It was spooky quiet. Did they evacuate it? My house was taped off and men walked back and forth through the front door. I passed up my street and went to the next one. I knocked on the door of the house directly behind mine. Michaels followed.

      “What are we doing?” Michaels asked me.

      “Plan B. We’re doing what I was planning on doing if you hadn’t showed up.”

      Lorraine wasn’t answering her door. “Lorraine,” I shouted, “It’s Cass! I need to talk to you. The police are with me. It’s okay.” The door opened a crack, then opened wider.

      “What the hell are you doing out. With all this ruckus, you should be locked in your house!”

      “Been there, done that. I need to see your backyard. I think the guy the police are looking for came through here.” She blanched. She looked at Michaels, who showed her his badge.

      “Okay.”

      I walked around to her side gate. It was swinging open. Her backyard was still dirt for which I was very grateful. Michaels tried to go first but I held out my arm.

      “I need to be able to read the signs. His footprints are right here so we know he left this place but we need to see what he did back here. It’ll tell us a lot about his frame of mind.”

      I followed the clear footprints to a pile of junk by the back fence. I almost laughed. I was right, Silva had used the A-frame in my yard just as I’d planned to and jumped the fence. He crash landed on this pile of junk and rolled off. There were clear prints of his hands and knees in the dirt beside the pile. He had crouched beside the junk pile, probably listening for the police and checking out Lorraine’s house as a possible new hostage situation. He’d decided to run for it and his dash for the gate was plain. He was in a hurry, and he was pushing himself. His footprints were not the pattern of a seasoned runner. These footprints showed desperation. Then he had staggered off through the gate and into the neighborhood. I took mental notes on his footprints; big feet, the pattern of the tread, how he favored his right foot. The tread was more worn down on the left side of his left shoe. It all matched up to what I’d already observed while I’d been captive.

      When I returned to the gate, I was back to guessing. I looked up and down the street. There had been a police cruiser stationed at the end of the cul de sac preventing him from jumping that wall. He had to go straight but