Chapter 1 #2
She opened the file cabinet and stuffed the folders inside. She’d figure out where they were supposed to go later. “In the two years that he’s been here, this is how he is. With everyone. Even Supervisor Howard.”
“Maybe that was the reason for his suspension. Insubordination.” Liam followed her over to the filing cabinets.
Aubrey shook her head. “I don’t think that’s why he was suspended.” She slammed the drawer shut, then sat down behind the desk and shrugged. “The paperwork I saw said that he was suspended for an unintentional and improper discharge of a firearm while on assignment.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I wish I was.”
Liam frowned. “I can’t see Butler being careless so soon after he was cleared for a different shooting. The guy is meticulous.”
“I know, right? It doesn’t make sense. He’s one of the best marshals out there.” She looked around the office area, hoping no one else could hear them. “There has to be something else, some logical explanation as to why he’s been suspended.”
“You’re right.” Liam held up his hands. “If Ethan wants to tell us, he will. But when he does arrive, can you let him know I’d like to sit down and talk with him?
” Liam picked up a flyer for Renegade Days from her desk and glanced at it.
“Or is that asking you to risk your life?” He smirked and sat on the edge of her desk, his back to the door.
Didn’t the guy have any work to do?
“You have no idea.” She took his empty mug back to the credenza. “I just wish I knew what his problem is. Renegade’s not that bad, is it?” She sighed. “Maybe he needs to get out of Renegade for a bit—take a couple of days and go kayaking. Go visit his friends or family somewhere else.”
Someone cleared their throat behind them. “Who needs to get out of Renegade?”
Heat rose up Aubrey’s neck as she and Liam looked at each other.
Busted. When would she learn to keep her opinions to herself? She knew better than to talk about a coworker. Every coherent thought in her head stalled, and she slowly glanced up at the man in question.
Ethan’s mouth turned down in a grimace, his eyebrows practically touching. Shoot. Mad and gorgeous.
Aubrey shot Liam a death glare, but Liam’s smile only grew wider, if that was even possible.
“You do, my friend.” Liam stood and slapped Ethan’s back. “I’m hoping you took your shot to get out of town and into the great outdoors, work out some of that tension you carry.”
Ethan’s gaze moved between Aubrey and Liam, his eyes shooting sparks, and Aubrey glanced back at her keyboard. “Don’t you two have some work to do? Someone else to annoy?”
She looked up and saw him shrug off Liam’s hand. “And you”—he turned his dark-blue eyes on Aubrey, his gaze polar-ice-cap cold—“shouldn’t gossip.”
Was it hot in here? She stood and leaned on her desk, smiled sweetly at him.
Ethan’s frown deepened.
Liam snorted, and Ethan’s gaze drifted to his coworker. Liam coughed into his hand and stood.
Aubrey bit her lower lip and cleared her throat. “Anyway, welcome back! I made these this morning. Care for a brownie?”
She held out the plate, along with a napkin. Who knew they were destined to be apology brownies?
Ethan stared at her for another long moment before Liam grabbed a napkin and loaded it with two chocolate squares.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Liam held up the brownies in a salute. “You make the best brownies of anyone I know.” He leaned closer. “Just don’t tell Sam I said that, or she’ll have my hide.”
Aubrey laughed, and it felt good to release some of the tension from the past week. She made an X over her chest. “Promise.”
“My girlfriend has many talents, but baking isn’t one of them.” He started to walk back to his office, stopped and pivoted. “Don’t tell her I said that either.”
Liam whistled on his way back into the old office building, the jaunty tune echoing off the marble floors.
Aubrey shook her head and sat down, staring at the open email inbox on her computer screen. Nothing new.
She felt Ethan’s gaze on her, and she looked up into those mesmerizing blue eyes of his. He was a handsome man, if you could get past his grumpy exterior. Short brown hair a little long in the front, and a smattering of freckles.
She gave herself a mental shake. “Something else I can help you with, Deputy Marshal Butler?” She pasted on a smile. She’d kill him with kindness.
If it didn’t kill her first.
“Uh, no. Thanks for the brownie.” Ethan grabbed one of the bigger squares and headed back to his office, his footsteps drifting away.
Huh. Will wonders never cease?
Aubrey checked her phone one last time. She moved her to-do list into the file folder marked Robbery Reenactment.
It looked like she needed to make a personal visit to Judge Mullinax.
Thankfully, she didn’t need to understand Ethan Butler in order to make this year’s Renegade Days a success.
Ethan closed the door to his office and leaned against it, staring at the brownie in his hand. Aubrey and her baked goods.
It was better than thinking about the past few months though.
He needed to check in with Sebastian Carlsson, his good friend and the US marshal in charge of the Denver office. They’d met while on assignment over ten years ago, and he was one of the few people Ethan completely trusted.
A few months ago, Detective Michael Martinelli and a private investigator named Luca Saxon had shared with Ethan that they suspected local businessman Roger Rousseau was in the middle of a criminal organization operating in Renegade.
But without evidence, neither could do anything about it.
Ethan had started to dig into Roger Rousseau, and all too quickly, the threats had begun.
Ethan had put in a request for surveillance on Roger and a warrant to look into the guy’s financials, but he’d been turned down.
The same day, his elderly neighbor had been roughed up by two men who’d told her that Ethan should back off from looking into Rousseau.
And she’d told Ethan that one of the men had been wearing a silver star like his.
After that, Ethan had been forced to come up with a more radical plan. If someone in the office was working for the Shadow Syndicate, he had to keep his investigation under the radar. And do it in a way that kept the people around him safe.
He and Carlsson had devised a ruse to throw off whoever was leaking information to the Shadow Syndicate.
They’d agreed to set things up to make it look like Ethan was suspended for improper use of a firearm, to give him the chance to investigate without anyone knowing.
He’d spent the past two weeks following Rousseau and trying to unearth the evidence they needed.
Ethan dialed his friend’s number.
“Carlsson.”
“It’s me.” Ethan closed the office door and sat behind his desk. Morning light filtered through the double-paned glass, a few dust motes floating in the air.
“What did you find out tailing Rousseau on his trip?”
Ethan ran his free hand through his hair. “Nothing.”
He studied his usually tidy office, and a shiver of apprehension raced up his spine. A fine white dust covered his desk and bookshelves. Strange. Two weeks out of the office shouldn’t have produced that much dust.
“Martinelli and Saxon were so sure Rousseau’s involved in the syndicate.”
“I know. I still think he is.” Ethan exhaled. “Look, I know we were supposed to connect this morning, but I don’t think I should talk about this now.”
“Hang on.” Muted sounds bled through the line. “You at the office?” Carlsson asked.
“Yeah. Let me get back to you later this afternoon.” Ethan disconnected the call.
He fired off an email to private investigator Luca Saxon, asking to meet, and sent the same email to Detective Martinelli.
An automated response came from Luca. I’m out of town right now. If this is an urgent matter, please contact Detective Martinelli of the Renegade Police Department. The email included Martinelli’s number.
Muted laughter from the reception area drifted down the hallway, and he popped a corner of brownie in his mouth and groaned in appreciation, savoring the rich, chocolatey flavor.
Ethan called Martinelli’s number, but the call went to voicemail. “You’ve reached Detective Martinelli of the Renegade PD. I am unavailable for the next two weeks. If this is a police matter, please contact my lieutenant.”
He leaned back in his chair and stared at his phone. What were the odds that both were unavailable?
He closed his laptop with more force than necessary. Everything was messed up, and now his coworkers assumed that he was in trouble with the Marshals. The fewer people involved in this investigation, the better he’d be able to narrow down who was working against them.
He brushed a stray cat hair off his pant leg and grimaced. He’d stopped by his elderly neighbor’s house to check on her two spoiled felines. He should’ve known better than to wear dark dress slacks.
He didn’t want to interact with anyone in the office today.
Too much weighed on his mind—too much confusing information he’d gathered that didn’t make sense.
He was convinced Roger Rousseau had to be working with the syndicate, but he just couldn’t prove it.
Yet. He’d followed the guy during his trip to Denver and, afterward, questioned the shady guy Roger had met with.
No dice.
No one would talk, and Ethan still had no evidence. But the attack on his neighbor couldn’t be ignored. Rousseau was connected somehow.
With a loud exhale, he massaged his temples, eyeing the remaining portion of the decadent brownie.
Aubrey knew how to push his buttons, sure.
But she also knew the way to his heart. He didn’t dare tell her he had a sweet tooth that he tried not to indulge.
If she continued baking, he’d be as big as a barn.