Read Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series) Online
Authors: Melissa Brown
Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series) (31 page)
Three squad cars pulled onto the street and parked behind my truck. Six uniformed police officers in thick black SWAT garb exited the cars, shotguns in hand. I’d never seen so many policeman in one place. It was intimidating yet comforting. I knew if Clarence tried to run, they would track him down and place him in one of those cars, hands in cuffs. But shotguns? A SWAT team? Was that really necessary?
“I know what you’re thinking,” the detective said. “Standard procedure for a crime of this magnitude. We have to assume the suspect is armed and dangerous.”
I put my arms up in surrender. “I didn’t say a word. Do what you have to do.”
The detective nodded, then faced the other officers. “Here’s how it’s gonna go down, fellas. Officers Lindon, Stone, and Thompson.”
“Sir,” three men said in unison.
“You’ll head to the back door and radio me when ready. It’s an enormous estate, so it may take you some time to find the right point of entry. We’ll wait for you before approaching the subject’s front door.”
“Yes, sir,” they said and proceeded to walk toward Clarence’s backyard.
“Everyone else, you’re behind me. This is the suspect’s brother, Paul Black. He’s going to hold back while we obtain the suspect.”
“Where should I be?” I asked, unaware I wasn’t allowed to accompany the detective during his confrontation with Clarence.
“Stay right here. If we need you, we’ll let you know.”
“Are you sure I can’t come with you?”
He shook his head. “Civilians can’t be a part of this process. Everything has to be on the up and up or it could screw up our case. None of us want that.”
I held up my arms again in compliance. “Agreed. I’ll stay right here.”
“You’ll be able to see and hear everything that’s happening, but you won’t be involved. That’s what we need.”
All of the officers’ radios buzzed and a voice said, “We’re at the back door, Detective. Proceed with caution.”
“All right,” Jonathan said. “The rest of you follow me. Let’s take this son of a bitch down.”
I watched as they walked several yards to Clarence’s front door. Jonathan knocked on the door. “Clarence Black, open up. This is the Colorado City Police Department. We have a warrant for your arrest.”
No one came to the door.
Jonathan banged on the door again, and the other officers raised their guns. “If you don’t open the door, we’ll be forced to break it down, Mr. Black.”
They waited again, but no one came.
“All right, go in, boys.” The four officers kicked the door down with a gigantic thud, and screams could be heard coming from the entrance of the house. I knew those voices, they were the innocent screams of my brother’s wives and children. They didn’t deserve this, but in time they’d know it was all for their own good.
“Go, go, go!” I heard Jonathan yell. And several of Clarence’s children came running from the front door.
“Uncle Paul! What’s happening?” Clarence’s daughter Jane yelled as she ran toward me. “What’s going on? Why do they have guns? Why are they yelling Papa’s name?”
A dozen or so children came pouring out of the house and followed Jane to my side. Panic filled my gut—I hadn’t thought about his children. I hadn’t thought about the panic this would induce.
“Just calm down, everyone. Keep sweet. Answers will come. But it’s not time.”
“They won’t find him,” one of his teenage sons said, squinting in the morning son. “He’s probably in New Mexico by now.”
My world stopped.
New Mexico? They won’t find him?
“What did you say?”
He shrugged and looked away from me, but I got in his face, demanding to know more. “Hey, wait a minute. Tell me what you said.”
“Papa’s gone,” Jane said. “He left in the middle of the night.”
Without another word, I ran to the house, screaming out for Jonathan. “Detective Cooke! Detective Cooke!” But I was lost in a sea of wives and children as they scurried around the entrance of the house. It was pure mayhem.
“How dare you enter this house!” His first wife, Janine, met me with teeth bared. “This is all your fault!”
“What are you talking about?”
“You worked with the police? How
could
you?” she screamed.
“How do you know that?” My head was spinning. And then I saw Holly, the wife who Aspen said was conspiring to help us. Our supposed mole, our spy who was supposed to keep us informed. And once again, I saw red. With rage streaming from my body, I stormed toward her. “Did you say something? Did you tip him off?”
She recoiled with wide eyes. She shook her head. “What? No, of course not! I’ve been trying to reach Aspen all morning, but she’s not answering her phone. She’s gone!”
“Gone? What are you talking about?” I demanded, confused and overwhelmed as children continued to run throughout the house, screaming and shouting and taunting the police.
Jonathan’s booming voice interrupted my question. “Paul! Paul, where are you?”
“I’m here!” I yelled out, trying to figure out where he was calling from.
“Kitchen!” he yelled back, and I crossed the sitting room and met Jonathan in the massive room.
The look of defeat on his face told me all I needed to know, but I asked anyway. “Tell me it’s not true. Tell me the kids are wrong.”
“He’s gone,” Jonathan said. “We’ve searched the house three times. There’s no sign of him.” Someone must’ve tipped him off.
“You’ll never find him,” Janine said behind me, and I turned to face her. “Never.”
“Where is he? Where are you hiding him?” I demanded, storming toward her.
“The prophet doesn’t need to hide. He’s gone, never to return, and you have yourself to thank. You took our husband from us. You stole him from his children. How does that feel, Paul?”
“Bite your tongue,” I spat. “He did this. He’s pure evil, and so are you for covering his tracks.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. A maniacal laugh left her lips, a laugh that made the hair on my neck stand at attention.
“Why are you laughing?”
She raised both eyebrows. “Just wait. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Paul!” a voice cried from the front door.
Aspen.
“I tried to tell you,” Holly cried from the doorway. “I tried, I tried.”
“Aspen, what are you doing here?” I asked, running to her and grabbing her by the elbows. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her chest was heaving and her skin was ashen—like she’d just seen a ghost . . . or her worst nightmare. In her hand was a piece of paper.
“It’s Ruthie,” she wailed. “She’s gone.”
She thrust the paper into my chest before falling to her knees. I stared at the crumpled paper in disbelief. It was complete with childish handwriting and misspellings, but it became all too clear what had happened. We were too late. Clarence was gone and he’d taken our daughter. The very daughter we were trying to save from his clutches. Someone had warned him this was going to happen, and to punish us, he took her with him. He took our Ruthie. Our innocent daughter was at the mercy of a monster.
“We have to find her.” Aspen sat in a heap on the floor; Holly knelt down beside her. “We have to! My baby’s out there . . . with him. And I can’t protect her. I can’t . . . I can’t.”
I knelt down in front of my wife, taking her hands in mine. “If it’s the last thing I do, I will bring her home, Aspen. I promise I’ll bring her home.”
“No, you won’t,” Janine said with a snicker. Her eyes were dark, menacing, cold. A chill ran down my arms as I caught her icy stare. “No. You. Won’t.”
The story continues from Clarence Black’s point of view
in the
conclusion
to The Compound Series . . .
PROPHET TAKES ALL, The Compound Series, Book 4—coming fall 2016.
About the Author
Melissa Brown is a hopeless romantic living in the Chicago suburbs with her husband, Chris, and their two children. Aside from writing, she enjoys reading, baking and making candles. She enjoys writing romance, suspense and YA.
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melissabrownauthor.blogspot.com/
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Also by Melissa Brown
The Compound Series:
Wife Number Seven
His Only Wife
Mother Before Wife
Love of My Life Series:
Bouquet Toss
Champagne Toast
Picturing Perfect
Unwanted Stars
Sorority of Three: Freshman 101
Red Carpet Kiss
If You Can’t Take the Heat
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