Chapter 25

"This makes no sense." Nash rubbed the back of his neck. "Clearly, the fitness tracker's owner follows the same routine day in and day out."

"Unless we were way off and the CRT code isn't Central Rail Trail and stands for something else," Jo said.

"I don't get it," Carrie sighed. "It fits the criteria. Location, time, activity. It's all here."

"Are you sure there's only one parking area for people to hop on the trail system?" Raylene asked.

"Almost positive." Carrie pulled her cell phone from her purse and turned it on. "Let me look again."

"While she checks, I was thinking, even if we tracked the perpetrator here and see someone who matches the description, we have no proof," Jo said.

"True. The bottom line is we're going to have to catch the individual in the act," Nash said.

"Lure them to Carrie's place and set some sort of trap," Raylene said. "Maybe we forget about tracking them and try to get them. Obviously, they're going to keep coming back."

"Whatever their plan was, Nash definitely thwarted it last night." Jo tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Unfortunately, they'll be on guard now."

"If, or when, they show up again," Nash added.

"Maybe this person's plan was to flatten all of my tires."

"It does seem the vandal is targeting your vehicle," Jo said.

"My vehicle, my work trailer, my barn doors." Carrie blew air through thinned lips. "Guess what."

"You found another hiking and biking trail."

"Yep. It's out behind Divine's Mini-Mart gas station. It opened this spring."

"Great," Jo groaned. "Stakeout number two…here we come."

"It will have to wait until tomorrow." Carrie's phone chimed. "Sheriff Franklin is calling."

"Go ahead and answer," Jo said. "We'll be quiet."

"I'll let him leave a message."

Ting.

Carrie tapped the top of her phone and listened to the message. "Great. He's on his way to my place."

"It'll be okay," Jo said. "We didn't do anything wrong."

"Except for me," Raylene said.

"And he never has to find out." Jo reached Carrie's farm where they exited the vehicle and found the sheriff already pulling in behind them.

"Hello, Carrie." The sheriff greeted the others. "I stopped by the station and picked up the fitness tracker you dropped off. You said you found it out back?"

"Yes. I can show you where." Carrie hurried off with the sheriff by her side, leaving Jo, Nash and Raylene standing in the driveway.

Jo shaded her eyes, watching as the sheriff and Carrie circled the area where they'd found the fitness tracker. They disappeared behind the silo, re-emerged and caught up with the others.

"Well?" Jo asked when they got close.

"I told Carrie I've put in a request to access the records to locate the owner. Between that and tracing what's left of the serial numbers on the vehicle tracking devices she forwarded to my son, Deputy Brian, we should eventually get a match. Unfortunately, these things take time." The sheriff placed a light hand on his holster. "I'm working on a list of people who purchased materials similar to the materials used to construct the bomb."

"Even if you have the list, there's no smoking gun," Jo pointed out.

"True." The sheriff motioned to Nash. "Carrie told me you and Jo stayed here last night and chased the trespasser away. Were you able to get a good look at them?"

"No. It was too dark. I glimpsed the person over by the silo. It was in the area Carrie showed you. It was a smaller person, thin build, petite and hauling butt," Nash said. "They put their fitness tracker to good use."

"This helps," Franklin said. "We can start putting a profile together."

"Let's assume you're able to find the fitness tracker's owner. Will you be able to prove they were here on the property?"

"With GPS coordinates," he said. "Regardless, they can still deny vandalizing your property and blowing out your barn doors."

"In other words, the only thing you could charge them with is trespassing." Carrie sucked in a breath.

"Criminal trespassing can go either way. It can be classified as a misdemeanor or a felony based on the conditions or circumstances."

"Catching them in the act would be optimal." Jo tapped the top of her lip. "I don't think this person will stop unless they get caught."

The sheriff tipped his hat, pinning Carrie with a pointed stare. "Are you sure you can't think of anyone—a customer or a client you ticked off?"

"As I mentioned before, someone left a nasty review about my taxidermy business on the Better Business Bureau's website."

The sheriff jotted a few notes in his notepad and dropped it in his front pocket. "Between the material purchases, the vehicle tracking devices and now the fitness tracker, I'm confident we'll figure out who is behind this. Regardless, as I said before it will take a little time."

"Meanwhile, I'm a sitting duck," Carrie said.

"My suggestion is to find someone to stay here with you or stay somewhere else." Sheriff Franklin promised to let her know as soon as he had anything before he left.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Jo asked.

"Fine. Charlie won't be here until later this evening, after I get home from the sh…" Carrie abruptly stopped. Her eyes grew round as saucers. "F-from the shopping I need to do," she stammered.

"Yes. Well. I'm sure you have work piling up." Raylene grabbed Jo's arm and began propelling her toward the SUV. "We'll get out of your hair."

They reached the driver's side. Raylene flung the door open and waited for Jo to climb in.

A puzzled Nash trailed behind. "Are you okay, Raylene?"

"I'm dandy. I was thinking we should head back to the house. I'm sure Delta is worried about us." Raylene hopped in the back seat and slammed the door shut.

Nash took his place in the passenger seat.

Jo met his gaze and shrugged. Raylene was clearly in a hurry to leave.

It was a quick drive back home, spent chatting about their next move.

"The bottom line is we need to set a trap and catch them in the act," Jo summarized. "If not, we can stake out the trails all day long, all for naught."

"Although it would be helpful to know who we're up against," Nash pointed out.

"Know thine enemy," Jo quoted. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try again tomorrow except this time monitor the other trail's entry and exit point."

As soon as they parked, Raylene took off.

Nash caught up with Jo near the rear bumper. "Is it me, or was Raylene acting a little strangely toward the end?"

"Maybe she had something she needed to do and didn't want to talk about it."

He leaned in and sneaked a kiss. "It's time to get to work."

"I need to check my emails. I'm still waiting on the official form letter about Raylene's early probation termination." Jo gave him a quick hug and, with a spring in her step, made her way in through the rear door to the kitchen.

Delta appeared. "Jo. I didn't know you were back already."

"We just got here." She started up the steps.

Delta blocked her path. "I…uh, spilled some sugar on the floor and made a mess. You'll need to go around to the front porch."

Jo's brows furrowed. She leaned to the side, struggling to see around Delta. "Do you need some help?"

"No. Uh. Michelle is here helping me." Delta forced a laugh. "It shouldn't take but a few more minutes."

"Right." Jo shot her a puzzled look and backtracked, making her way around the side of the house and entering from the front porch.

She could hear Delta and Michelle talking in hushed voices.

Certain something was up, Jo tiptoed through the dining room and peeked around the corner.

The women stood huddled together near the kitchen counter. Delta frantically motioned toward the door.

Michelle nodded and darted across the kitchen floor.

The broom or cleanup supplies were nowhere in sight.

Jo shook her head. First, Raylene was acting oddly and now Delta. Something was afoot at the farm.

Brushing it off, she made a beeline for her office, forgetting all about it when she found an email from Pastor Murphy, who had forwarded a list of women who were up for parole.

The list was long…one of the longest Jo had ever seen. She read each of the profiles. Some were heartbreaking, while others threw up a slew of red flags. There were a couple who were an automatic "no."

What she tried to glean, to weed through the information provided, was to figure out who might be the best fit.

The number one criteria was a desire for the former convict to change and leave behind the habits and decisions which had gotten them into trouble to begin with.

Because of the close quarters and close-knit living and working environment, willingness to work as a team alongside the other residents, and ability to communicate were equally important. Learning new skills to help the resident once they were ready to leave the farm and embark on the next chapter in their lives was also at the top of must haves.

It was a daunting list and, to be frank, some of the women being released would never make the cut.

Jo often felt she was being ruthless but quickly reminded herself it was a waste of their time and her time if the person was unwilling to leave behind the life of crime and start over. From the ground up.

She leaned back in the chair and thought about her mother, who had been incarcerated and died before being freed. Would Jo's own mother have made the cut?

Yes, Jessica Carlton would have made the cut, would have been the perfect person to join Jo at the farm.

Sudden tears burned the back of her eyes. She clenched her jaw and stood at the window, staring out. So many lost moments, days, months, years since her parents' deaths.

Sometimes, late at night, Jo could feel her mother's presence. The unfair hand life had thrown her was the catalyst for Jo to keep going, to keep pushing, driven by the need for her residents to succeed.

"I miss you so much, Mom." Jo swallowed hard, staring blindly out the window. "You would love Nash. He's thoughtful and caring. Maybe if…" A lone tear trailed down Jo's cheek. "…if we had met years ago, we could have started a family of our own. You would have loved grandchildren."

Jo sucked in a shaky breath. "I never wanted to have regrets, but now that I'm getting married again, I feel a little empty. I wonder what our children would have been like."

She rubbed the sides of her arms. "I guess I'm getting all sentimental, wishing you and Dad could be here, wishing things had been different."

Jo mentally shook her head. Don't you dare wallow in self-pity. Jo's life was a walk in the park compared to what some of the women she'd taken in had gone through—not to mention the many women she didn't have room for.

She reluctantly returned to her chair and clicked out of the list. It would have to wait for another day, another day when she wasn't beating herself up for not being able to help all of them.

Jo spent the rest of her afternoon going over inventory and catching up. Finally, she shut her computer off and headed to the kitchen where she found Delta and Michelle finishing the dinner prep. "I'm here to help."

"We can use an extra hand setting the table." Delta darted to the cupboard.

"Delta's been cracking the whip," Michelle joked.

"We're on a tight timeline."

"Tight timeline," Jo echoed. "Why? Do you have to leave early tonight?"

Delta's eyes slid to the side. "No. What I meant to say is uh… Oh, shoot. I don't know what I was gonna say."

Jo pursed her lips and kept quiet. Something was going on. She could feel it in the air. First Raylene and now Delta. She let it slide, but during dinner, she once again sensed something was up.

Her first clue was Laverne, who seemed even more talkative than normal. Even Carli, her non-verbal resident, used her scribble pad to keep up with the conversation.

All the while, Delta hurried them along. It became so blatant that Jo finally pointed it out. "I have no idea what's going on, but first, Raylene rushes us home. Delta blocked me from entering the kitchen and now we're eating as if the food is going to disappear into thin air."

Nash chuckled. "You're getting the same vibe? I thought I was losing my mind."

Delta ignored the comments and began clearing the table. Jo was certain she was onto something when the residents sprang from their seats and helped without being reminded.

Laverne reached for the bowl of rolls. She shoved one in her mouth, tucked the stack of dinner napkins under her arm, and hurried off.

"I best help clean up." Gary took the last stack of dinner dishes and followed the others out of the room, leaving Jo and Nash still seated and staring at each other.

"I feel like we missed the memo," Nash joked.

"For sure." Jo slid her chair back. The doorbell rang. "I'll get it."

She strode to the living room, veering off to the side to peek out the window. The visitor was out of Jo's sight line. She eased the door open and stumbled back. "What in the world?"