“What did you find?”
Tia glanced at Raine, who nodded encouragingly.
“A man, he was dead, in one of the rooms. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could. In the kitchen, I found the old man. Tor. And then I just ran away as fast as I could.”
Royce asked, “How many days ago was this?”
“Five I think? I’m not sure.” That matched the timing for Tor’s death. “I hid in an empty barn for a few nights, but it was cold and I was hungry, and my arm hurt.”
Briar winced, thank god Tia hadn’t shut that window when she ran.
It was hard to believe that Sheriff Garrison hadn’t searched Tor’s house immediately. But maybe he’d assumed, like Royce and Briar, that he only lived downstairs. Garrison sounded like the type who spent all day watching football, so chances are, if he hadn’t died, a search might have happened Monday.
And Tor had been somewhat of a recluse, so why think anyone else might be there? Briar wanted to interview the customer who’d reportedly found Tor. As far as Briar knew, Tor hadn’t been making any kind of furniture for a decade. He’d suffered from an autoimmune disease that affected his hands and made it hard for him to do the detail work he was known for.
“So,” Briar began thoughtfully, “Tor argues with someone—we don’t know who, could have been Tattoo Guy, or it could have been the shooter—then he falls or has a medical incident. Tattoo Guy goes upstairs. Why?”
“Tia?” Tia’s golden eyes met Raine’s as she spoke. “Did you recognize the man in the room upstairs?” Tia shook her head, but Briar wasn’t certain she believed her.
It was Royce who asked, “Who were you running from, Tia?”
She shook her head. “They said they’ll hurt my family. And the other girls.”
Briar didn’t want to tell Tia that it was very likely her captors had already hurt anyone she’d left behind. But the girl was obviously frightened. Maybe after a few hot meals and a good night’s sleep, she would have more to tell them. It wouldn’t do them any good to pressure her at the moment.
“Tia, how old are you?”
Tia darted a glance at Raine before she answered, “Seventeen.”
It was possible, but Briar suspected the girl was closer to fourteen or even thirteen.
“Look, Tia is very scared,” Raine said, “and I’ve promised her safe harbor. Whoever it is that held her captive is dangerous.”
“And you’re going to put yourself directly on their radar,” Royce said.
Raine frowned at her brother. Briar had the feeling she didn’t give a damn about her personal safety.
“I think we should continue this conversation another time. Tia is exhausted and still in pain. I don’t believe her arm is broken, but it’s seriously sprained. And you can see she’s underweight, so wherever Tia was, they weren’t feeding her.”
Briar could tell Royce wanted to talk to his sister without Tia listening. Raine knew it too.
“Tia, would you mind waiting in your room so I can talk to my brother? He’s overprotective and worried about me. You have nothing to be concerned about, I promise.”
The girl nodded and padded out of the room, headed, Briar supposed, toward a bedroom.
“Raine,” Royce said with exasperation, “I get that you want to help everyone, but you can’t harbor—”
“Harbor who, Royce? A scared teenager? Someone who doesn’t have anyone else in her corner, who’s been beaten and god only knows what else? A girl who literally lay on the road in front of my car, probably hoping that I would put her out of her misery? She’s too scared to even go to the hospital.”
Royce stared up at the ceiling for a moment before he asked, “Did she say anything about where she came from before finding Tor’s house?”
“No. I asked her, too, but she’s too frightened. Same with her family. She seems to think that, whoever they are, they are in danger if she tells us too much.”
Before Royce could say anything further, his phone chimed and he pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen.
“It’s the coroner,” he said to Briar. “Royce King here.”
“He’s going to have to get used to saying sheriff,” Raine said.