Sheepdogs: Keeping the Wolves at Bay by Gordon Carroll (good books to read for beginners TXT) 📕

people kidnapped the man and his two year old daughter. I got him away but the girl wasn’t there.”

“She dead?”

I winced. “I hope not. Someone else has her. Someone higher up than those slobs at the house.”

Jared rubbed his bald head with long, plump fingers that reminded me of an episode of The Office where they alluded to a made up disease called Hot Dog Fingers. “I’m going to need everything you’ve got. No holding back, and I mean it, Gil. This isn’t going to be easy to clean up.”

I shook my head to the negative. “I can’t do it, Jared. Whoever is pulling the strings still has their daughter. If things get too hot he might kill her and cut his losses. I can’t take that chance.”

“We could call in the FBI.”

I gave him my most withering look, usually reserved for defense lawyers and dullards. “Oh, great idea. Why not just kill her yourself?”

He nodded. “It was just a thought.”

“Can you keep it low profile, for a couple of days at least?” I asked.

“Maybe — they were nobodies — that makes it easier. But if the media gets wind of the kidnapping, all bets are off.”

“One more thing,” I said. “The Franklins need to be protected.”

“That goes against your low profile gig, doesn’t it?”

“Can’t be helped. Whoever’s doing this might decide it’s safer to take the whole family out.”

“Done,” said Jared. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

So I told him. And I hardly left anything out.

37

While the police took Tom down to the station to make a statement I drove Lisa home. She started to reach for Max in the backseat, but I stopped her with a touch.

“He’s not a nice dog,” I said.

“Really?” She continued reaching and rubbed his head. I held my breath. Max let his tongue loll out of his mouth, rolled over and gave her his stomach. She scratched his belly and chest. I let my breath out and continued to drive.

She remained quiet for the first half of the trip. After that she began to talk. “Tom told me what you did back there. It was very brave.”

I didn’t know what to say to that so I just kept quiet.

“I guess you’ve gotten into a lot more than you bargained for.”

I smiled. “You’d be surprised how often that happens to me.”

She was quiet for a few more minutes. We were on I-70 westbound before she spoke again.

“Why are you still helping us? Shane’s dead, you found him. You’ve fulfilled your obligation.”

“I told you, once I take a case I’m in until it’s done.” I looked at her. “Even if you fire me.”

She looked back, her eyes red from crying. Her hand rested in her lap. She twisted the ring. “Tom and I have… been… having problems. They say the loss of a child often destroys a marriage. Now I’ve lost two. I don’t know if we can make it through this.”

“We’ll get Amber back.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I’ll get her back. I give you my word.”

“Tom cheated on me. At least, I think he did. He denies it, but I know something happened. There was a girl where he works. She’s young, pretty.” Tears streaked down her cheeks.

“I don’t know Tom well, but I can see he loves you.”

She wiped at her cheeks. “Does he? I don’t know anymore. I don’t even know if I care. I just want my baby back.” She looked down at her lap. “Tammy told me about your wife and daughter.”

That caught me like a punch to the throat.

Lisa went on. “You didn’t have anyone to turn to. No one to share the hurt. That makes me very sad for you. I feel like that now. Tom’s there, but it’s like he isn’t.”

“It was hard, still is. But Lisa, this isn’t about me, it’s about you and Tom. And the two of you will work it out.”

“I’m not so sure I want it to work out.”

“That’s grief talking.”

“No — no it’s not. I was feeling this way before all this started. I know it’s terrible, but I can’t help it. Tom’s the only man I’ve ever been with, but I don’t know if I love him anymore. And now my son’s dead. My son and maybe my little baby girl.”

Again I didn’t know what to say.

It was three o’clock; rush hour was just getting into full swing. The sun burned through the early afternoon clouds, sending searchlight-like shafts across the sky. I looked at her again, sitting there with her hands in her lap, so vulnerable, a wrong word or gesture might shatter what remained of the façade she was trying to keep up.

“Tom is a good man,” I started.

She broke in. “I know that. I don’t care.” Her voice and face were hard, but then she softened. “Could I ask you a very personal question? Please?”

I didn’t know where she was going with this and it scared me. “Yes.”

“How do you go on? How do you survive? After they died, how could you? I don’t know that I can.”

I didn’t want to answer. I don’t like thinking about it, even now after all this time. But she was hurting and maybe I could help. “I can’t give you any easy answers because there aren’t any. You survive and go on because you have to, because there’s no choice. For you even more so than me. You have other children, a husband, people that need and depend on you. And I think them needing you will help you live through this. There will be times when you don’t think you can. Times when you don’t think you want to. That’s when you have to get tough — mean — hard — and just push ahead — because the only other option is worse.”

She looked at me intently making me feel self-conscious. She touched the WWJD bracelet on my wrist.

“Did this help?” she asked. “Your faith in God?”

I sighed. “Yes, eventually, but not at first. Not for a long