ENDING OF CHAPTER 28 

Crissy's car was parked among the pines at a scenic roadside spot. She'd checked to see if they were hidden from view, fearing another run-in with Deputy Tucker. She needed to think about the morning's events and let her FBI friends know what she'd seen. 

"Brandi, I don't trust that deputy. He wasn't nice to you and ran us off like we were yesterday's garbage. There's a story here, and I'm going to find it." Crissy buried her face into the retriever's hair, running her hands up and down her sides. "It's you and me, girl."  

Brandi barked her affirmation as Crissy's cell rang. As she reached for it, a police cruiser passed by on the highway. She dropped the phone, ducking out of sight and ignoring the phone call. "Down, girl."  

Brandi followed her owner's command, lying down on the car's front seat while Crissy prayed they hadn't been seen. 

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BEGINNING OF CHAPTER 29 

A low rumble rattled in Brandi's throat as the pup sensed something or someone. Every nerve in Crissy's body tensed as she whispered, "Shhhh! It's okay, girl." Together, they both lay motionless on the front seat. 

A male voice demanded, "Get out of the car."  

Brandi lunged across Crissy's body, barking at the person tapping on the car window. A moment of terror ripped through Crissy's body, and an involuntary scream exploded from her lungs. Her arms wrapped around her four-legged protector as her wide-eyed expression turned from fear to acceptance when she saw who was standing there. 

"Calm down, Brandi. It's okay." She patted the dog's head before addressing the man outside her car window. "Deputy Tucker. You almost gave me a heart attack sneaking up that way." 

"Just doing my job, Miss." He tried to open the car door, but it was locked. He scowled. "You mind stepping out of the car, Miss? Without the dog, please." 

"What? I don't understand." The angry look on Deputy Tucker's face spoke volumes. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've done anything wrong. Why do you want me to get out of the car?" Crissy's hand searched the seat for her phone while her eyes remained on the deputy. She respected Brandi's sense of character and knew her dog didn't trust the man. Brandi's low growl confirmed her thoughts.  

Still reeling from his talk with Smythe, Wyatt's demeanor was almost menacing as he spoke. "I don't know how the law works in Nashville, but when law enforcement asks you to do something around here, you are expected to do it. Otherwise, it might be considered resisting arrest, if you know what I mean." Wyatt tugged on the door handle. "Open the car door, step out of the car, and if you know what's good for you, you'll control that dog of yours." His hand rested on his hip, uncomfortably close to the handle of his revolver. 

"Resisting arrest?" Chrissy's fear turned to anger, and she snarled at Wyatt, "I'm calling my friend. He's an FBI Agent, and you can't do this to me." Her hand moved wildly across the seat in search of the phone until she spotted it on the floor. 

She leaned down to retrieve it, and the sound of breaking glass caught her off guard. Pieces of glass sprayed across the interior of the car. Like a slow-motion movie, the door opened, Crissy screamed, and Brandi lunged simultaneously at the deputy. In need of protecting her owner, the dog's teeth sank into the first available flesh, the deputy's left arm. 

Wyatt's guttural wail turned high-pitched as he struggled to loosen the dog's grip on his arm. Having smashed the window with his service revolver, without thinking, his finger found the trigger and fired.  

The sound of gunfire jolted Chrissy upright. The sight of blood on her beloved pet's fur brought her to hysteria, and she tumbled out of the car, wildly reaching for Brandi. "Nooooo!" Her arms cradled Brandi's whimpering head as tears flowed down her face. Chrissy gagged on her words. "Oh my God, you — you — shot her." She couldn't believe what was unfolding, but she knew she had to help Brandi. Choking on her tears, she begged, "Please, we've got to get her help." 

Wyatt stumbled backward as he pulled himself off the ground. His hands trembled violently as he wiped the taste of fear and bile from his mouth, as his throat burned from the acid rising from his gut. He spun around, reaching for the side of the car to stabilize himself. "God have mercy, what have I done?" 

His eyes were glassy and wild as he realized his hand had a stranglehold on his gun. A barrage of icy chills raced through his body as his heart slammed against his chest. He returned his revolver to his holster, a gun he'd never actually fired before today. 

Crissy pressed her sweater against Brandi's fur. "How far is the nearest vet? We've got to get her help." 

"Have you lost your mind?" Wyatt pounded his fist against the top of Crissy's car. "My career is over. I can't go back to hauling junk. I won't!" 

"You brought this on yourself. You shot my dog. We didn't do anything wrong. I don't understand any of it. Why are you doing this?"  

"Shut up! Let me think." Wyatt ran his fingers through his hair.  

"There's nothing to think about. Tell me how to get to the vet. I'll take her myself." Crissy hissed at Wyatt. "I'm not the crazy one. It's you. You've lost your mind." She gently separated herself from Brandi and stood. Her eyes flashed with anger as she snapped at Wyatt, "Get out of my way." 

Her demand splashed like ice water on Wyatt's brain, clearing the fog away. Suddenly, he knew he couldn't let this woman get anywhere near the town, or anyone else, for that matter. His entire career and maybe his life depended on it. 

Determined to put Brandi in the backseat of her car and find a vet, Crissy turned her back on Wyatt so she could open the door. In that instant, Wyatt reached for his handcuffs, shoved her against the car, and locked the metal bracelets around her wrists. His elbow pushed into the small of her back, and she winced in pain. 

Crissy cried, "You won't get away with this." Her tear-filled eyes stared at her whimpering pet. "Hang in there, girl. I'll get help somehow." 

As he dragged her toward the cruiser, Crissy kicked and twisted violently, trying to get away, but by now, Wyatt understood the depth of his situation, and a plan was developing in his mind. As she fought him with everything she had, he shoved her into the vehicle and slammed the door. 

"My dog. Please don't do this. You must help my dog." Tears flowed down Crissy's cheeks. "Plee-ease! Just let me put her in my car, and I promise to leave town." 

"You should have done that when I told you. Now — well, now it's just too late." 

Wyatt shifted the car into gear and headed down the highway away from town while his distraught passenger sobbed inconsolably in the back seat.  

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A short time later, he pulled his cruiser onto a dirt road, hidden from most by the overhanging tree limbs and brush. Once out of sight, he pushed redial and heard the ring at the other end. 

"Come on, Smythe, pick up your phone." When the phone switched to voice mail, Wyatt yelled into his cell, "Terry, it's Wyatt. We gotta talk. Call me. I've got the girl." Angrily, he tossed his phone on the seat and edged the cruiser deeper into the tall pines and underbrush, muttering obscenities under his breath. 

Crissy gulped for air, trying to stifle her tears. "You won't get away with this, you know. I've got friends, and they'll be looking for me." 

"Who's going to tell them? Your dog?" Wyatt snarled, and then a low maniacal laugh built into a high-pitched shrill. "Nobody knows you're here or that I've seen you and your dog. Where I'm taking you, they won't ever find you. I'll call in your car as being abandoned after I get rid of the mutt. If I play my cards right, I'll convince them you were involved with the other car. Maybe they kidnapped you?" 

"Is this how justice works in the mountains? What did we do besides discover an accident?" Crissy shuddered as she remembered Brandi lying on the side of the road. A sob escaped her lips. "Why wouldn't you help my dog?" 

Wyatt glanced down at his arm and the marks Brandi had left. "Guess it's called survival. And I plan on doing just that."