Page 16 of Deception

Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the parking area at Coles Creek as paramedics hurried a gurney toward the ambulance. Brooke met him at his truck. “How bad?” he asked.

“Paramedics say it’ll be touch and go. Loss of blood, erratic pulse ... She was shot in the back and shoulder area.”

“Has she said anything?”

“A couple of times she asked about somebody named Bri.”

He nodded and moved closer to the ambulance where he could see the victim’s face. For a second, he didn’t breathe. ISB special agent Madison Thorn? He’d paid for her dinner not an hour ago.

Could he be wrong? He stared at her. She wasn’t dressed the same as this morning, but it was the same blond hair and the same heart-shaped face with a slight cleft in her chin that he’d noticed at the restaurant.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she locked gazes with Clayton. Same blue eyes.

“Agent Thorn, did this Bri person shoot you?” Clayton asked.

She frowned. “Bri ... you ... find her.”

Her eyes closed, and for a second, she struggled to open them again.

“We’re ready to load,” the medic said, and Clayton stepped away from the gurney.

They slammed the doors to the ambulance shut. “Are you taking her to Merit?”

“Yeah. It’s the closest hospital. They’ll probably airlift her to Jackson if they get her stabilized.”

From his expression, the paramedic didn’t think she’d make it, and Clayton lifted a quick prayer heavenward before he turned to Brooke. From the look on her face, she’d done the same thing. He scanned the parking lot for the light-blue Chevy Impala he’d pulled over this morning. “Where’s her car and the girl?”

“What girl?” Brooke frowned. “And there was no car here when I arrived. Haven’t found a purse or a cell, either.”

“I saw the victim at the restaurant in the Guest House B&B around 6:45 with a female who looked like she might be in her late teens or early twenties.” He kicked himself for not going over and talking to her and finding out who the teenager was. But he had no way of knowing she would get shot.

Brooke tapped her iPad. “A female who gave her name as Bri called the shooting in to 911 at 7:30.”

“That’s the name the victim spoke.” Clayton rubbed his jaw as he did the math. Forty-five minutes. “Allowing fifteen minutes to get out of Natchez and on the Trace, and then the time to get here—they must have left soon after I did and didn’t make any stops.”

Brooke tilted her head toward him. “You know the victim?”

“I issued her a warning ticket for speeding, but there was no teenager with her,” he said. “She must’ve picked the girl up sometime between eight this morning and when I was with Jen and Ava at the restaurant.”

“So you have her tag number?” Brooke asked as the ambulance pulled out onto the Trace with red-and-white lights flashing.

“Yeah.” He started toward his pickup and turned back with a grimace. Since he only gave her a warning, he hadn’t entered it into his iPad. “The information is in the ticket book in my SUV.”

Clayton quickly called Sheriff Nate Rawlings to issue a BOLO for a late-model blue Chevy Impala with a rental license plate and a young adult female driving it.

“I’ll pass this along to the police chief and get him to issue a BOLO as well,” Rawlings said. “And I’ll send my chief deputy to help with the investigation.”

“Good. Once I reach my SUV and get a plate number, I’ll call you back.” After he disconnected, Clayton dialed Hugh Cortland’s number. When he’d talked to him earlier in the day, Cortland had indicated he was working with the ISB special agent. Maybe Cortland had her plate number. When the FBI agent answered, Clayton explained the situation.

“That’s impossible. Last time I talked to her, she planned to meet someone for lunch and then go to her grandfather’s house in Natchez and work. She was spending the night with him and she shouldn’t have even been on the Trace. Are you certain it’s Madison Thorn?”

“The victim’s car is missing with her personal effects, but I’m pretty sure it’s her. A woman who looks like Ms. Thorn leaves an impression.”

He pictured the woman at the restaurant with her blue eyes and blond hair in a ponytail. She’d been dressed in jeans and a pullover instead of the white blouse and slacks from earlier in the day. Could he be wrong? The image of the woman he’d given the ticket to had popped up in his mind all day, and he believed it was the woman who just left in an ambulance.

“I have her cell number—let me call her,” Hugh said. “If she doesn’t answer, I’ll make some calls and get the license plate number.” There was hesitation on the other end of the line. “You know if it is Madison, I’ll want the investigation,” Hugh said. “The FBI has more resources.”

Clayton straightened his shoulders. He was the law enforcement officer for the Natchez Trace, but the FBI had jurisdiction over criminal activity in a national park and they held a higher rank than he did. That meant if Cortland wanted it, he could take the lead since the Trace was a part of the National Park Service. “Yeah, I know, but we’ve always worked well togetheron cases in the past.” Clayton saw no reason they couldn’t in this matter.

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