Chapter 21

BRICE

Two hours later, we had finished up our field investigation, and I was standing before the pop machine. The forensics team was scouring the evidence we had gathered, and Ethan was centering his attention on finding areas high on Bigfoot sightings. Her kidnapper hadn’t had time to take her too far, so we knew she was somewhere within a thousand-mile radius.

As I gathered my drink from the machine, my phone buzzed, and shifting hands, I pulled it out of my pocket. Seeing it read Newton County Sheriff’s office, I carried it to my ear, murmuring, “Rowland.”

“Agent Rowland, this is Sheriff Grace in Newton County. I have an Agent Ashley Rowland in my office—”

Before he could even finish his words, I said, “My team and I will be there in approximately four hours,” and then ended the call. Next hitting Rylee’s number, I stated, “Gather the team, Ashley’s in Newton County,” when she picked up.

Less than four hours later, we were pulling up next to a tan, one-story stucco-style building with the words ‘Newton County Law Enforcement Center on the side of it in black lettering, and pushing the door open of my pickup, I noted the heat waves shimmering off the building as the sun continued holding the small, sleepy community beneath its glare.

At five in the evening, the town was only slightly busy, and several cars passed by us as Rylee, Ethan, Courtney and I stepped off the street and onto the cemented area surrounding the Sheriff’s building. I had talked to Ashley on the way over, ensuring she was okay. Though shaken, scratched, and supporting stitches in her shoulder where the son of a bitch had cut her, along with a set of bruised ribs and a sprained ankle, she had fared her abduction and assault, surprisingly well. I hadn't pushed her for any details other than her welfare though, for we had been in and out of cell service, and I knew I would get the information once we had reached her.

Though we had gotten on the road in record time, the trip had still seemed to take forever, and worry and impatience had ridden my heels the entire trip. Now, as I hurried to the building’s entrance, I couldn't help wondering about the location change. The voyeur had kept his acts local, so why the shift? Why here? What was the significance of this area to him?

As the miles had slipped behind us on our way to our destination, Ethan had read to me the information he had gathered on Newton county as it had come up in his search, having had sightings. He had found one particular story, interesting about the Sheriff's office and an incident with a possible, bigfoot. Though I had found the tale entertaining, it hadn’t made me a believer nor a non-believer, instead; I remained neutral. There were many things out there that were unexplainable, so who was I to doubt the possibility? For instance, look at what we were chasing—a man with an ability science says doesn’t exist. I had witnessed firsthand that this particular type of phenomenon does, through the woman I was in love with. So, just because no genuine evidence had ever been found on the mythical creature called bigfoot, didn’t mean the big guy doesn’t exist.

Not only had Ethan shared the story on the Newton County creature, but he had also given us information on the location we were heading to.

On the Texas-Louisiana border, Newton County runs from the Toledo Bend Dam to Deweyville and is a sizable area containing miles of thick forest. The city of Newton, where the Sheriff’s Office is located, is the county seat, and on the last census, it had a whopping population of 1,663. They named both the county and seat after a man named John Newton, a hero supposedly of the Revolutionary War. In 1853, the town of Newton was built along with a courthouse due to disputes, and in 1902-03, they built a second courthouse with bricks from nearby Caney Creek. In 1889, the town's public school began when the W.H. Ford Male and Female College was chartered, and later the site became the Powell Hotel, which now serves as a museum and houses the city's chamber of commerce.

Though I knew the information about the town and county were important to our case, after hearing Ethan’s report, I now felt I almost knew more about Newton, than I did about my hometown.

Shaking off my thoughts of the trip here, I pulled open the door of the building, and as we trooped inside, I couldn’t help a sense of amusement, for to the low-keyed Sheriff and his deputies, we must look like a team of Superheroes from the Marvel Comic books, storming their lobby.

RYLEE

Sheriff Grace reminded me so much of Carroll O’Connor when he had played Sheriff Bill Gillispie in the tv series, *In the Heat of the Night*, that I was tempted to ask for his autograph. His hair was the same color of whitish-gray where it cradled his balding head above eyes that held the same periwinkle blue of Carrolls. Even the slight extra upward lift to the left side of his mouth was the same, I noticed, as holding out his hand toward Brice, he smiled, inquiring, “Agent Rowland, I assume?”

At Brice’s nod, Sheriff Grace continued, “Your sister is resting in one of our guest cells. My deputies have cordoned off the house where she was being held, as well, where she exited the woods. A thorough search has been done of both, but little evidence was found.” He pulled out a sealed bag and a large manila envelope, at the same time commenting, “Here’s her clothing and the reports my deputies filed. Your sister has been through quite a lot by the sound of things, Agent.” Afterward, standing, he handed the items to Brice, as, grabbing the cowboy hat sitting on his desk, he placed it on his head, then eyes swinging toward the rest of us, and back toward Brice, he murmured, “You’ve had a long trip here, and Katey serves the best darn apple pie on this side of Texas on Tuesday’s, if you’re interested in refreshing yourself a bit until your sister wakes?”
I heard Rick’s stomach growl at the invitation, but Brice shook his head, murmuring, “Appreciate the offer, Sheriff, but if you would just wake Ash, we’ll get out of your hair as quickly as possible.”

Sheriff Grace nodded. “Suit yourself, but you don’t know what you’re turning down,” he enticed.

Brice laughed. “Probably not, and I appreciate all you’ve done, and don’t doubt your deputies' abilities to perform a proper search, but I’d like to question Ash myself as soon as possible and get on scene. This guy who kidnapped her is wanted for several murders in Garland. She’s damn lucky to have gotten away, and I need everything she can give me while it’s all fresh.” Now, if you don’t mind, if I could get Ashley?”

“Sure thing, Agent,” Grace returned, then looking at one of his deputies, he ordered, “Duset, go wake Agent Rowland, then bring her out here, please.”

“Yes, Chief,” the deputy replied, before turning and exiting through a doorway that, I assumed, led to where the guest’s cells were housed.

Pushing his hat back, Grace scratched the front of his head, then murmured, “This has been quite an occurrence for us. We don’t get much crime around here. Usually, it’s not much more than a few domestics, the occasional break-in, and a teenager or two raising a little havoc. If you would like, after you speak with your agent, I’ll take you to the scene.”

Brice acknowledged the Sheriff’s words with a nod, then stated, “That would truly be helpful, Sheriff.”

As Grace continued scratching at his head, he murmured “Word about your agent has tongues wagging and people kinda stirred up around here. Be mighty nice to give them somethin’ to calm the nerves before they form a huntin’ party, ya know? The phone has been ringing off the hook with people spooked, and fearin’ for their safety. Seems the whole darn community is seein’ things and runnin’ my deputies ragged.”

Brice nodded. “I understand, Sheriff, and we’ll work as quickly as we can to give you something to tell the town.”

A few minutes later, the deputy returned, escorting Ashley into the room. At seeing Brice, tears formed in her eyes, and she hurried over to him, burying herself in his arms as a shuddering sob escaped her lips.

Brice his arms tight around his sister, laid his cheek on top of her head, as walking her backward, he gave them some privacy, at the same time murmuring quiet, soothing words of comfort.

I looked at Grace who was watching Brice and Ashely, his eyes soft and understanding.

Clearing my throat, as the emotional moment had brought a tightening to my throat, and a film of moisture to my eyes as well, I murmured, “Sheriff, is there someplace local we can stay while we investigate this if we need to stay overnight?”

Gaze shifting from the siblings, who were brother and sister in that moment, rather than agents of the law, Grace nodded. “Let’s see, there is the Holiday Inn Express and the Super 8, both about fifteen miles away in Jasper.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Anything to help,” Grace returned.