Page 73 of Fighting for Brielle
* * *
A week later Brielle and Justice scoured maps of California and Oregon, trying to pinpoint possible locations of Anderson’s compound. Military drones had flown over the Redwood National Forest but didn’t detect any unusual activity. Now, they were looking at a wider range of territory.
After sunset, a thunderstorm raged outside. White-capped waves crashed against the shore as jagged lightning flashed in the dark night skies and thunder boomed, rattling the windows in Justice’s home.
Brielle had just handed Justice a cup of hot coffee when his cell phone vibrated with an incoming call.
“Chief McQuaid.” He listened for a moment, then said, his voice brisk, “I’m on my way.”
He grabbed two LBPD rain jackets from a closet and tossed one to Brielle. “Come on. We’ve got to go. A semi bearing a heavy load of redwood logs jackknifed, causing a major pileup on the coastal highway. With fatalities.”
They hurried toward his Explorer. Justice turned on his lights and siren and pulled onto the highway. A little more than a mile later they ran into stalled traffic. Moving onto the shoulder of the road, he bypassed the other cars. Up ahead chaos claimed the highway. Emergency vehicles and patrol cars blocked traffic in both directions as EMTs and police officers handled the gruesome scene.
Justice and Brielle climbed out of the Explorer. He handed her a flashlight and yelled above the noise caused by the wind and rain, “I’m going to help the victims! See if you can get some of this traffic re-routed!”
She nodded. “Be careful, Chief!”
“You, too, Sergeant!”
No vehicle was getting past the accident scene anytime soon. Brielle used her flashlight to direct drivers to either make a U-turn or pull off to the side to wait until at least one lane was unblocked. Most of the drivers expressed their concern and even offered to help, but Brielle instructed them to stay in their vehicles.
A dark blue metallic Ford F-250 traveled north on the shoulder of the highway. Brielle stepped in front of it and motioned the driver to stop. Through the heavy rain she noticed a tarp covering the cargo area. She aimed her flashlight at it, lifted one corner, and glimpsed wooden crates. Through the planks she discerned the dark shape of assault rifles. Her eyes widened with surprise, and her pulse leapt in her veins as her instincts kicked into high gear. She reached for her gun and cautiously approached the front of the truck on the driver’s side.
She yelled, “Roll down your window! Now! Let me see your hands!”
“Is there a problem, Sergeant?” Officer Nash Carson asked from behind her.
Before she could react, he jabbed a needle in her neck.
* * *
Several hours later, after the horrific accident scene had been cleared, Justice searched for Brielle. All of the emergency vehicles had left some time ago, along with California Highway patrol officers and Justice’s own squad. River and Dooley were still on the scene, waiting to see if he needed them. When he couldn’t find Brielle, his blood started to run cold and his stomach clenched.
“Hey, River!” Justice called. “Have you seen Brielle?”
“No, Chief!” River addressed Dooley. “Have you?”
“Nope. Not for a while now.”
Justice called Brielle’s cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail. “Dammit, she’s not picking up!”
“She’s got to be around here somewhere,” River offered. “Let’s look further up the highway.”
Justice continued to call her cell phone as River and Dooley shouted her name. Rain still fell in heavy sheets as they canvassed the area. All three grew worried when they couldn’t find her anywhere. Desperate, Justice pressed her number again. Lightning flashed.
River grabbed Justice’s arm and pointed. “Over there!”
Brielle’s cell phone lay smashed on the shoulder of the road.
Pure, unadulterated fear coiled in Justice’s gut as he reached for the cell phone. In that paralyzing moment, when it mattered the most for him to make sense of what happened, images and sounds of the events of that night played in his mind’s eye.Trucks. Had he heard trucks? Yes. Focus on the sound. How many? He didn’t know. But now he made the connection. Faith learned when the guns were being moved, and she’d been taken. And Brielle must have seen one or more trucks carrying the arms during the chaos of the accident, and she’d disappeared, too.
“Fuck! That son-of-a-bitch grabbed Brielle!” he screamed as he sprinted toward his Explorer, followed by Dooley and River.
“Who?” Dooley yelled.
“Nash Carson!” Justice remembered him directing traffic a few hours ago.
Dooley and River jumped into their cruisers, and they and Justice turned on their lights and sirens.
