Ch. 11

Charlotte hopped out of the truck, tucking the handgun into the waistband of her jeans, underneath her shirt. Beast was barking madly, the sound louder now that she was out of the truck. The man looked up at her as she came around her truck. He was wearing sunglasses, but she could tell that he didn't look at her like most men in town did. He watched her as she walked toward him, but he didn't watch her hips or stare at her breasts. She could tell that he was staring directly into her eyes, she could feel it.

And that scared her more than the alternative.

"Can I help you?" she called out, faux sweetness in her voice. She stopped several feet away from him, making sure that if he tried to grab her, she had plenty of time to pull out her gun before he could get her. The man straightened, pushing his sunglasses into his black hair, a friendly grin on his lips. Charlotte didn't trust it, or maybe she didn't trust those blue eyes. Either way, she didn't return the smile.

"Afternoon miss…" he let the sentence hang, one eyebrow quirked up a little. She didn't take the bait.

"Who are you?" The smile dropped a little, those sky blue eyes hardening a little. He stepped forward, closing the door to the SUV. Charlotte's hand moved to the gun.

"Don't bother." Her hand paused, her eyes shot to his again. Her lips curled into a frown, all politeness gone completely. "I doubt you have a permit for it anyway. I wouldn't want to have to arrest you for that." There was a joke in his tone, like her threatening him with a gun was some kind of funny. "I'm Special Agent Neo Beckett, and you are Charlotte Devereaux."

Devereaux.

She hadn't heard that in…in years. That was her name wasn't it? But no one had called her that since she'd arrived in Cainsville.

"And just what makes you so damn special?" Charlotte snapped. How dare this man come here and make her…

what did he do? Make her remember? Was that really all?

Agent Beckett chuckled. "Miss Devereaux, I'm sorry to show up like this. I'm looking for your brother, Mac."

"He's working, like he does every day, at the garage." She stressed the word. This Special Agent wouldn't be here if he didn't already know about the meth, but that didn't mean Charlotte was gonna cave right away. She wasn't going to cave at all. Whatever this guy knew or found out, it wasn't from her.

"Right," he drew out the word in that way that said he didn't believe her. "Where's the garage then? This town is a little confusing." Charlotte rolled her eyes. There was nothing in their little town. She stayed silent; Beast's barking was even louder now, in the silence of the empty land.

"Beast shut up!" Charlotte snapped suddenly. The dog yelped and whined, but settled at the edge of his cage, growling threateningly.

"Obedient," Agent Beckett commented, looking over his shoulder at the cage and then back at her.

"You shouldn't be here."

"I admit, I generally don't like appearing at a woman's home without being invited, but given the circumstances-"

"In Cainsville," she interrupted. "You shouldn't be in Cainsville. You won't find whatever you're looking for." She sighed, pushing her greasy hair out of her face, "No one ever does." The last part was said quieter, but Beckett seemed to hear her.

"Miss Devereaux-"

"Charlotte," she interrupted again.

"Charlotte," he repeated, "Maybe you could take me to the garage."

"You can't be serious," she snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "You really think I'm gonna give up my family? I know what you're after and whoever told you, it wasn't me and it won't ever be me. So Special Agent, you can leave now. You have no reason to be here." His hazel eyes softened again, and this time he did look her over. She could see the pity bloom there; she knew what he saw-she saw it every day in the mirror.

"Charlotte, you should know that-" She held up her hand, brushing it back through her hair when he stopped.

"Just leave." She glared at him as he flicked his sunglasses back down. His face hardened. Gone was the laughter and pity, replaced by someone fully deserving the title Special Agent.

"Miss Devereaux, we will get what we came for. It's only a matter of time. Your help would be appreciated and it would provide options for you. There are programs; we can get you out of here."

"Is that what you promised Lowell?" His frown flickered sympathy, he gave a slow shake of his head as he climbed into the SUV. Charlotte didn't move until Beckett was completely out of sight. She couldn't afford to hope for his promises to be true. She'd given up that dream a long time ago. Some days she couldn't even remember if she'd ever really believed that she could escape. Charlotte looked to Beast, still sitting against the cage wall; the dog had aged quite a bit since that night. He was graying around the muzzle; his eyes were a little less bright. At the same time though, she was a lot older too…or at least, she looked older and definitely felt older.

Charlotte glared at the dog, turning on her heel and heading into the house. She'd have to call Walter, tell him that their problem just got worse. She moved around through the house, not wanting to make the call. Mac would be home soon, she could tell him when he got there, but that would just piss him off more. And Walter. If she didn't tell someone now, they'd just assume that she was withholding from them. She picked up the phone, dialing the number for the Luna Mesa. Better to get it over with now. Deal with Walter and Mac one at a time. Then she could start hacking Lowell's account.

Lowell.

He'd always been so sweet, before he'd started drinking. But the look on the Agent's face when she'd said Lowell's name told her all she needed to know.

Lowell Pratt was the traitor.

She knew why. He hadn't taken it well when his father had died. The sheriff had been found dead in his home, face deep in pussy and an empty brick of his favorite drug. He'd missed his son's wedding; that had been what initially sent Lowell hunting. The funeral had been quick and empty, like all the funerals in Cainsville. After that, Lowell had changed. He came around the Luna Mesa more often. He'd taken his father's position as sheriff. He'd given Mac more tickets than Pratt ever had. It had only been a matter of time before he'd turned them in for the canyons.

But if that were true, why hadn't they seen it coming?