Critical Pursuit (24 page)

ON THE DRIVE
to the hospital, Brinna reflected on her father and Milo. All this time she’d thought her father was the weakling and Milo had all the strength. Turned out she was wrong about her father. Dad now faced the end of his life with a courage Brinna never would have thought possible. It wasn’t that Milo had been a coward. It was just that she realized he wasn’t as perfect as she’d always thought. But was anyone perfect?

* * *

When Brinna stepped into her dad’s room, it twisted her heart how much weaker he’d become. Though her mom said there hadn’t been any changes the last few days, it was as if Brinna was seeing her father for the first time . . . and he was no longer strong or capable. While she regretted the short time they had left, she vowed to make the most of it.

Brinna took his hand and sat on the edge of his bed. “I want you to know I just realized something. When I was
searching for Carla and Bella, it was like I’d lost my own kids. I know now what you went through all those years ago. I understand a lot more than I did even the last time we visited.”

He nodded but didn’t speak. After a few minutes he faded off to sleep.

Rose stepped close and placed her hands on Brinna’s shoulders. “It makes me so happy to see you’ve made peace.”

“I only wish we could have hashed this out years ago. There really is a lot more to Dad than I ever considered.” Brinna turned to her mom. “And I promise not to shut everyone out by burying myself in my work. I’ll find a balance.”

The two women shared a hug. “I thank God for that,” her mother said.

SITTING IN THE BACK
of the courtroom, Jack watched everyone take their places in preparation for Gil Bridges’s sentencing. Bridges’s attorney led the defendant to his place at the defense table. A woman Jack recognized as Bridges’s wife led two small children to seats directly behind Bridges.

District Attorney Rivers walked in past Jack without seeming to see him and took his seat at the prosecution’s table. Besides Jack and Bridges’s family, there were no other spectators. After a few minutes the bailiff entered and placed some paperwork on the judge’s bench. He then took a seat at his desk, obviously waiting for a call that the judge was on his way.

As Jack studied the back of Bridges’s head, the pain and anger were still there. But now he felt free to move on. He could envision a day it wouldn’t hurt so much. It dawned on him that right at this moment, Bridges’s sentence didn’t matter to him. After all this time he didn’t want to start another countdown. He just wanted to get back to his life and live it in a way that would make Vicki proud.

He stood, stepped out into the aisle, and thought about approaching the counsel table but stopped. God was in control of the sentencing.
And of my life,
Jack thought.
I can leave this here.

He took a deep breath, turned, and left the court just as the bailiff called everyone to order.

* * *

Jack normally enjoyed sunrise at the cemetery. But today, because of the sentencing, he’d gotten there later and the sun was high in the sky. He took a seat on the grass next to Vicki’s headstone. His heart felt lighter than he could ever remember. D-day had passed and, with it, Jack’s burden of unforgiveness and hate.

“I’ll always love you and miss you,” he said, “but I’m thankful for the five years we had together. The way you died will never make sense to me, at least not until I’m in heaven with you and I can ask God face-to-face. And I have that hope now. I will see you and our baby again.” He took her cross out of one pocket and a container of Krazy Glue from the other. Very carefully he applied the glue to the back of the cross and stuck it to the headstone, centered under Vicki’s name.

He traced her name with an index finger and smiled.
When it’s my time, I’ll be there. Hang tight until that day.

On the way home Jack punched in a number on his cell phone that he hadn’t called in a while. His mom cried when she heard his voice. It was several minutes before he could get the words out, but eventually they made a date for lunch.

“HEY, WELCOME BACK!”
Maggie gave Brinna a hug as soon as she stepped into the locker room.

Two weeks after Carla and Bella were rescued, Brinna found herself sitting in church with her mother and brother at her father’s funeral. He’d died peacefully in his sleep, and Brinna was relieved that he no longer suffered. She had taken a week off after her father passed.

“Thanks.” Brinna released her friend. “Don’t tell me you came in early just to welcome me back?”

“You bet. I missed you.” Maggie stood with arms akimbo, looking up and down Brinna’s cotton K-9 jumpsuit. “You’re back with Hero, but please tell me you miss Jack at least a little bit.”

Brinna laughed. “I’m with Hero, where I belong, and Jack is back in homicide, where he belongs.”

“He’s still every bit a hunk.” Maggie tsk-tsked.

Brinna shrugged. “I’ll admit that Jack turned out to be a great partner, good instincts. We worked well together.” She sat while Maggie finished dressing.

“Any hope you might be seeing more of the man?” Maggie shot Brinna a leer.

“Settle down. I like the guy, but who knows where he’s at where his wife is concerned.”

“He’s got to move on sometime. I read that the drunk who killed his wife was sentenced, five to ten. I’d think that would close the book.”

“Whatever.” Brinna waved a hand.

“Well, no outright dismissal. At least that’s a good sign.” Maggie closed her locker.

“I’ve decided to make some changes in my life,” Brinna said as they left the locker room and headed for squad. She’d been asking herself questions since her dad’s passing.
Are you in heaven, Dad?
she wondered for the hundredth time. She wasn’t entirely convinced of the answers, but she’d promised her father she’d diligently search for them. As diligently as she ever searched for a missing child. Sometimes her mother’s preaching still annoyed her, but there were times she listened.

Maggie clapped her hands. “Goodie. You’re not going to bury your head in chasing down sex offenders and finding abducted children anymore?”

“I won’t go so far as to say that. Those things are still important to me, but you could say that from now on I’ll try to be a glass-half-full person. How’s that?”

Maggie grinned. “It’s a start.”

NINE MONTHS LATER

Brinna was contemplating a trip to the beach to spend some time kayaking when she got a call from Chuck Weldon. “You sitting down?” he asked.

“Yep, what’s up?”

“What’s surfaced would be a better question.”

“You found him.” Brinna felt as though her heart stopped.

“Yeah, but not the way you think. A couple hikers stumbled across some remains in the San Bernardino Mountains. Turns out our friend Pearce has been dead for almost as long as we’ve been searching for him.”

“He never made it out of the mountains?”

“Nope, and he never victimized another kid. From the look of things, he took a fall, broke a leg, and most probably died of exposure. And animals helped the decomposition some.”

Brinna chuckled. “For once the punishment fit the crime.” After she hung up the phone, she sat in her recliner and pondered Nigel’s fate.

There is a God after all,
she thought.

A FORMER LONG BEACH, CALIFORNIA,
police officer of twenty-two years, Janice Cantore worked a variety of assignments, including patrol, administration, juvenile investigations, and training. She’s always enjoyed writing and published two short articles on faith at work for
Cop and Christ
and
Today’s Christian Woman
before tackling novels. A few years ago, she retired to a house in the mountains of Southern California, where she lives with three Labrador retrievers, Jake, Maggie, and Abbie.

Janice writes suspense novels designed to keep readers engrossed and leave them inspired.
Critical Pursuit
is the first book featuring Brinna Caruso. Janice also authored the Pacific Coast Justice series, which includes
Accused
,
Abducted
, and
Avenged
.

Visit Janice’s website at
www.janicecantore.com
and connect with her on Facebook at
www.facebook.com/JaniceCantore
.

1. Brinna Caruso’s own kidnapping as a young child is the driving force behind her crusade to rescue abducted children. What is admirable about her quest? In her earnestness, what does she fail to recognize? Is there something in your own life that has triggered a desire to act or make a positive difference?
   
2. At the beginning of
   Critical Pursuit
   , Jack O’Reilly is consumed with hatred for the man responsible for his wife’s death
    
   —even to the point of denouncing his faith in God. Have you ever experienced such an extreme situation or felt unable to forgive someone? What does Jack do
    
   —good and bad
    
   —to move past his feelings? What should he have done?
   
3. In what ways
    
   —physically, emotionally, spiritually
    
   —are both Brinna and Jack “lost” in this story? Who or what rescues them? What can you learn from that?
   
4. What did you think of Nigel Pearce? How does having scenes from his point of view add to the story?
   
5. When Brinna and Jack are partnered up in patrol, Brinna worries that Jack doesn’t care enough about his job. What does each character bring to this working relationship? How do they ultimately help and support each other?
   
6. What are some of the reasons that Brinna’s relationship with her father is difficult? How have both Brinna and Rocky Caruso contributed in negative ways?
   
7. Both Rose and Brian Caruso tell Brinna that she is like her father, though she doesn’t see the similarities. What evidence in the story supports Rose and Brian’s claim? Why might Brinna want to deny any likeness?
   
8. Throughout the story, Jack wrestles with his unbelief
    
   —that if he says there is no God, there must not be a heaven, either, though he wants to believe his wife is in a better place. Have you ever had similar doubts or encountered someone who has? What would you say to someone like Jack?
   
9. Brinna’s mentor, Milo, struggles with poor health and depression after retiring from the police force and turns to God for answers. Though some characters believe he finds peace, Milo still chooses to take his own life. Do you believe Christians who commit suicide go to heaven? Why or why not?
   
10. Though Brinna attended church as a child, she struggles with the idea of a God who allows evil in the world. What will it take to convince her of God’s sovereignty? What answers would you give for her questions?
    
11. What did you think of how the story ended? How does Brinna’s reaction to news in the epilogue make you feel? Is she too coldhearted or is she justified in her feelings?
    

Turn the page for an excerpt of Brinna Caruso’s next adventure,
Visible Threat
.

MAGDA BOTEVA HEARD SIRENS
in the distance, coming closer, and for a moment her heart stopped. Were they coming her way? Would they stop the madness she could do nothing about?

Without realizing it, she held her breath. But the sirens, and maybe her salvation, faded away in the distance. As she let out a ragged breath, Magda’s shoulders sagged. She brought her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. Now nothing competed with the sound of the beating. Magda heard the young girl beg Demitri to stop hitting her, then plead for forgiveness, but the beating continued, and Magda could not stop it.

To say or do anything while Demitri was this angry would shift his focus to her, her husband, Alex, or
 
—God forbid
 
—her own young children. As sorry as she felt for the unfortunate girl enduring Demitri’s cruelty, Magda could not and would not change places with anyone on the receiving end of his vicious rage.

Standing at the far end of the warehouse, as far away from Demitri as possible, staring through a dirty window at rain falling on a choppy ocean, Magda flinched at the sound of every slap. Pulling in a shuddering breath, she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Her inability to help the girl caused guilt to rise up in her throat like bile from a sour stomach. The guilt soon morphed to a feeling of utter helplessness.

I may not be the one being beaten,
she thought,
but Demitri holds me just as captive as he holds that girl.
A decision she’d made years ago to borrow money from Demitri to start a business had turned into a heavy chain entangling her life, sometimes threatening to suck the very breath from her body.

Finally the slapping stopped. The crying and the whimpers didn’t. Magda heard Demitri’s shouted orders and then a struggling and a scraping as he dragged the girl across the rough floor because she didn’t move fast enough. Magda could picture in her mind’s eye Demitri’s hulking form as he lifted the bleeding girl and threw her into the small room where he would keep her locked up until it suited him to release her.

The door slammed.

The lock clicked shut.

Demitri was out of patience, and Magda told herself to be careful.

“Magda! Magda, where the devil are you?” he growled.

“Here. I’m here.” Quickly Magda turned and moved across the floor to Demitri as fast as her spike-heeled boots would allow. Fury creased his brow, and she prayed it had nothing to do with her.

He wiped his hands with a rag, then tossed it into the corner. “Hurry. That brat has made me late; don’t you make me later.”

Magda grabbed her purse. “I’m ready to go.” She followed him outside, holding the purse over her head because of the rain. She climbed into the car while Demitri closed
the heavy, metal outer door of the warehouse. Magda could hear him cursing the rain.

He slammed the huge padlock closed and jogged to the car. Magda worked to keep an expression of neutral indifference on her face as Demitri climbed into the driver’s seat, angrier now because he was wet. If he thought she had any opinion at all about what he’d done to the girl, the car ride into the city would be unbearable. Demitri made her part of these power plays to ensure she understood her place in his world. She couldn’t let him see the pity she felt for the girl, the disgust she felt for herself, or most of all, the hate she felt for him.

Alex’s face floated into her thoughts, and she bit her lip to keep from sobbing. Her dear Alex was a Christian, a religion Magda flirted with only because it pleased her husband, not because she felt the same way about it that he did. Her father’s atheism was too deeply ingrained in her, and life had convinced her she could never give in to the hope that a Supreme Being existed who really cared for her. The fact that no God intervened to help the people Demitri victimized seemed to prove her opinion.

Regardless, she didn’t mind Alex taking their children to church or reading the Bible to them. Sometimes she listened, enjoying the family time and watching the rapt attention her children gave their father. For some reason the last story she’d heard him discussing with them came to mind.

It was about the first murder, when Cain slew his brother, Abel. Magda remembered wondering why Alex would tell their children such a story, but as he continued, she realized
what he sought to teach them. Alex’s pleasant voice explained a deep meaning of the story; God knew that Cain had murdered Abel, but he asked Cain, “Where is your brother?”

He was giving Cain the chance to come clean, to be redeemed, Alex told the twins.

Alas, the murderer would not confess. Instead he answered with an excuse. “Am I my brother’s keeper?”

Alex said that Cain was without excuse. He should have been his brother’s keeper, should have been more connected, more careful for the life he took. The essence of humanity is that we are all God’s children, brothers and sisters, Alex said, and we need to take care of one another.

Magda bit her lip to keep from crying, knowing Alex would be repulsed if he knew what had transpired in the warehouse today
 
—and many times before this.

And if his God did exist, Magda would be like Cain, guilty and without excuse. Even though none of the girls had been her blood sister, there was an ethnic bond, a human bond. If Alex’s God did exist and he asked Magda about the girls, would she answer with a question like Cain? “Am I my sisters’ keeper?”

Even as she considered the question, a deeper horror rose to grab her in the throat. Worse than the fact that she hadn’t acted to save the girl today was the knowledge that this was not the end. The poor girl crying in the warehouse would not be the last one Demitri victimized. How many more could Magda let suffer?

She knew that as long as her family was in danger, there was no answer to that question.

* * *

Sergeant Janet Rodriguez went methodically through the afternoon’s announcements, but K-9 officer Brinna Caruso was only half-listening. Her mind was on the upcoming arraignment of a sex offender. She couldn’t wait. Abducting Emily Baker was this creep’s third offense, and Brinna sincerely hoped this time the three strikes law would apply, and he’d be out of circulation for life.

“Caruso.”

She looked up at the sound of her name. Rodriguez motioned her back to the sergeants’ office as the rest of the squad was dismissed. Brinna nodded and cast a glance back at Maggie, who stood in the doorway waiting for her.

“I’ll catch up with you,” Brinna told her friend.

Maggie nodded and left.

“What’s up?” Brinna asked warily as she entered the sergeants’ office, wondering if perhaps there was more fallout from the arrest she’d made the night before. She relaxed a bit as she noted the lieutenant wasn’t present.

“Have a seat.” Rodriguez motioned to a chair and Brinna felt herself tense all over again. This would not be good.

“I’m afraid something has come up
 
—something you need to be aware of.” The sergeant kept her gaze averted to her hands for a second and then looked up. “The PD just received notification from Homeland Security that they’re not going to renew the grant that funds Hero.”

“What?” Brinna’s jaw went slack, and she felt her face flush. This was like walking around a blind corner into a sucker punch.

“There have been cutbacks everywhere,” Janet continued. “You knew the position with Hero was likely temporary.” Her tone was meant to be soothing, but Brinna could not be soothed.

“But he’s done a good job; we’ve accomplished so much.” Words fled, and Brinna could only stare at her sergeant. She knew it was a numbers game, but she didn’t want to accept it. The budget for police officers paid for a specific number of bodies. The federal grant had basically added extra money for a position that was not in the budget. She knew the PD approved the position only because of the salary savings. While Brinna, as an officer, would still be in the budget, the search and rescue dog unit position, which required extra funding for the take-home K-9 car and K-9 training, would disappear.

“This is not a reflection of performance,” Janet was saying. “Federal funding is capricious; you know that. It floats on political winds, and unfortunately, the winds have changed. There is a slight chance the city will pick up the tab for Hero, but I can’t get your hopes up.” Janet sighed. “I don’t have to tell you how many old-timers thought Hero was a waste for a city PD. And frankly, pulling stunts like you have before does not endear you to the brass. They have to
want
to do you a favor to pitch a case to the city council to keep funding the dog position.”

Brinna started to protest and was waved quiet.

“The department has a shortage of patrol officers,” Rodriguez continued. “The most likely scenario is that you’ll be plugged in somewhere in patrol. I’m sorry.”

It was a moment before Brinna felt able to speak. “How long?”

“Six weeks at most. That’s when the fiscal quarter ends.” Janet offered a faint smile, stood, and leaned over the desk. “Look at the bright side: the Feds will likely let you buy Hero; maybe the two of you can still take part in search and rescues on your off time.”

Brinna took her time making her way up to the parking lot. The last two and a half years with Hero as her partner replayed in her mind. Yes, she had known it might not last forever, but that didn’t make the inevitable any easier to accept. Of course she’d buy Hero, if she had to drain her savings to pay for him. But not work with him every night? The thought caused a knot to form in her stomach.

How can I go back to patrol? How can I leave Hero home every night and work with a two-legged partner?
She remembered how hard it had been to leave him when she’d been temporarily assigned to work with Jack O’Reilly. As much as she liked Jack, she missed Hero, and that was only temporary. How would it be to be permanently without Hero?

She barely noticed that it was no longer raining, and the sun was shining. Hero’s tail thumped as she climbed into the Explorer. A message on her computer told her that Maggie and Rick had gotten a radio call but they would meet her for lunch. She reached behind her and scratched Hero’s head, fighting the lump in her throat and the tears that threatened to spill out.

There had to be a way to save this partnership. There had to be.