Chapter 7
Dale couldn’t believe he’d let Heather talk him into this. His rearview mirror was full of Daisy’s face. When it wasn’t a view of her butt as she sniffed at the back windows Heather had partially rolled down. But it was the waves of doggy breath when she stuck her face into the gap between the front seats that had him convinced his car would never be the same.
While Heather didn’t say a word, he could guess what she was thinking. About the dog anyway. He admired her determination to care for the poor creature, but he couldn’t be part of a long-term solution.
She absently petted Daisy’s pale head whenever it appeared in the front seat, but her brain was clearly working through their startling situation. He didn’t want to hazard a guess as to the conclusions she might be drawing.
The attack on the shelter animals was bad enough, but the murder alarmed him. The cause of death sent a clear message. The killers didn’t fear prosecution. He’d tried to weigh how much of his concern to reveal and still maintain his professional distance. They needed to wrap this case up immediately.
Once Daisy was settled as the new darling of the sheriff’s department, Dale quickly guided Heather back to the car.
She kicked the rear tire instead of sliding into the seat when he opened her door. “I gave all that information to you so you would protect him. Now he’s dead.”
“Get in.” She glared at him, but got in the car and let him close the door. He didn’t have an answer for her. Not a good one anyway. And out in the open wasn’t the place to have this conversation. “You could have taken this to Cypress Security,” he pointed out when they were pulling out of the parking lot.
She gaped at him. “Is that your way of saying you’re dumping the case?”
“No. I finish what I start. Keeping your brother out of it is one thing, but Ross and his team would have done that for you.”
“They investigate, and they do it well, but they can’t prosecute.”
True. He was quickly learning the smiling Heather Morris didn’t do things halfway. “Looking over the data it seemed like their tech expert, Eva Battaglia, might have been more help to you.”
She shrugged, rubbing her palms on her thighs. “You’re smart and you can look at the data and know when and how to prosecute. These nasty fight nights need to end sooner rather than later.”
“That may take some time.”
“More or less time now that someone is dead?”
She needed comfort he couldn’t give. “Rushing the process causes more problems. If we can connect the murder to the corruption case—”
“You know they connect.”
“I assume Terry’s murder is connected to the corruption,” he replied, correcting her. “We can only prosecute what we think we can prove, otherwise Lester might get off entirely.”
“Not an option. They all need to go down.”
“Agreed.”
“But?”
He didn’t like how well she read him. “But,” he began, resigned to the fact that they were at the point of no return, “I’m already out on a limb with this. If we can gather enough evidence quickly, I’ll call in a favor and get a prosecutor on board.”
“Thank you.”
He wasn’t ready for her gratitude.
“Those missing dogs will be bait at the fights tonight,” she said quietly, as they left Main Street behind them.
“Most likely,” he agreed.
“Their confidence is damned insulting.”
He agreed with that too. “They believe they sent us a message. What I’d like to know is how you want to respond.”
“Deadly force works for me.”
Dale chuckled.
“Hey, you just laughed.”
“It’s a normal reaction when I hear something amusing.” He reflected on their dinner together. “I laughed last night.”
“Doesn’t count. That was all pretend.”
It should have all been pretend, but he’d found her company—regardless of the purpose—comfortable. Frustrated by the uncomfortable realization, he forced his attention back to the task ahead of them.
“It’s not yet eleven.” Hard to believe, considering all that happened. “We need to make it look like we’re going ahead with our weekend.”
“So they don’t expect us to show up with the cavalry at tonight’s fights.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“How should I have put it?”
“Well, unless you call on your brother, there’s no cavalry.”
“But you’re the FBI.”
“Yes. And there’s a reason I’m working this case undercover with a civilian.”
“A reason beyond your ‘mistake’?”
“Yes.” He didn’t like the way she put that in air quotes. His error had put her in jeopardy. “Don’t push me, Heather. The attack on the shelter is proof they know you’re involved.”
“Fine.”
“I’m thinking if we can get video evidence during a fight we’ll have something strong enough to take to the prosecutor.”
“Fine.”
He put a leash on his irritation. “We’ll get to the site ahead of them tonight and document everything.”
He didn’t even get a “fine” this time. “Do you have a better idea?” he pressed, wondering what was going on in her head.
“Not unless you let me stuff Lester in a small cage without food and water for a few weeks.”
“You have a very dark side behind that perpetual smile.” He shouldn’t find it attractive, but he did. “I like it.”
Good grief did I just say that out loud? Nothing about this case was going as planned. Especially not her. She was a civilian. Untrained. A risk. Her sense of justice was on target, but she was nowhere near objective. In the field that made her dangerous. To him as well as the case.
He took his eyes off the road and caught her fidgeting with the ring again. “Problem with the fit?” It was quite possible he was the one with the problem. She fit the role too well—except for being eight years younger than him and nowhere close to equal in life experience.
“No. I’m just getting used to it.”
“Your brother didn’t seem too eager to welcome me to the family.”
“Did you expect him to be?”
“I expected worse. I think he thought about shooting me when he noticed the ring. What about you?”
“Worse is only a matter of time.”
The answer bothered him. It shouldn’t. Not a bit. His attachment to her life was temporary. And yet, against his better judgment he heard himself asking her to explain. She was quiet so long, her face turned toward the window, he thought she might let him off the hook. He should’ve known better.
“The text messages will start flooding in as soon as J.C. has a chance to talk to my mom and sisters.” She sighed, giving the ring another twist around her long, slim finger. “It’s not the kind of news he’ll share over the phone.”
“But they’ll text you about it?”
Her shoulder hitched in a disinterested shrug. “Getting engaged isn’t news to me, is it?”
“Not today.” He was far too pleased that his joke made her laugh a little.
“They all know a text message is the easiest way to reach me. The only way to reach me while I’m away with you.”
“Would your brother try to use your phone to track you?”
She sat up straight, her expression first shocked and then her eyes narrowed in speculation. “He better not. The one thing I’m hoping is that this whole mess teaches my family I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
This whole mess. He’d never been lumped into that kind of phrase. Not within his hearing anyway. It wasn’t the most flattering of descriptions, but he had to admit it was completely accurate under the circumstances. He hadn’t considered any of the fallout for her. Could he be any more of a jerk?
“Come Monday, when this is behind us, I can help you explain things to your family.”
“You too?”
“Me too what?” Confused and baffled by the irritation in her voice, he slid her a look.
“What I do not need,” she began, “is one more person unable to believe I can handle my life on my own.”
“That’s not what—”
“Are you expecting me to lose my voice as we gather evidence against Lester?”
He could only wish.
“Are you expecting me to get killed?”
God no. “Of course not.”
“Then let me, the big girl, handle my family. I’ve known them longer than you. Is that clear?”
If he hadn’t been driving, he might have raised his hands in surrender. “As crystal.”
“What have you told your family?”
“My family doesn’t exist.”
“Handsome as you are, it’s not possible you were hatched.”
What?“Pardon?” The woman could twist a conversation faster than anyone he’d met.
“Hatched. As in the Helen of Troy myth.”
“Thanks?” He thought she meant it as a compliment. “But applying handsome to me is stretching the definition.”
“You’re just used to your reflection.”
Puzzled, he struggled to regain control of the conversation. “About tonight.”
“They’ll still fight. It would be a shock if they postponed when you consider the dogs that they took.”
“Strong dogs?”
“Bait dogs,” she replied, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat. “Aside from Daisy, they only took smaller, weaker dogs. I can’t imagine they really want to keep them around for very long.”
She was right. He imagined dogs that wouldn’t or couldn’t fight well would give confidence to a dog coming up the ranks. His stomach rolled as his mind”s eye filled in details he’d rather not consider. “If you don’t want to do this tonight…” He had to give her the option.
“I’m not letting this go on any longer than necessary. Tell me what to do to bring down Lester and his operation and I’ll do it.”
“Thanks.” This would be so much simpler if Lester were the only problem. He should tell her his suspicions about the corruption reaching right into the Columbia FBI office. He should be honest with her about the lack of back up. If she bailed on him and forced him to handle this alone, it would be no more than he deserved.
“It seems like the Haleswood Sheriff’s Department is off the hook,” she said. “Daisy didn’t have any kind of adverse reaction when she saw the uniforms.”
“A fact which makes you happy.”
“It does. I didn’t like the idea that someone close to J.C. might be involved.”
“Who did you suspect?”
“I didn’t want to suspect anyone.”
“But you did.”
“Well I had concerns after I found one of the fighting sites. I knew it couldn’t be J.C. or the sheriff but…”
He listened for several minutes as she went through the department employees from deputies right down to the janitors who cleaned the courthouse and the landscapers who maintained the grounds.
“Do you know everyone in Haleswood?”
“Pretty much. They all come into the Rooster at some time or another.”
“Or the courthouse.”
She shrugged. “I’m not there as much as I used to be.”
He should ask why, sensing there was a clue to her life choices in that mild revelation. Except he wasn’t supposed to be interested in her life. This was a two-day op and then they would go their separate ways. For better or worse.
He didn’t care for the twitch that thought created at the back of his neck.
“How do you stand it?” He hadn’t meant to blurt out his second question, but he realized he wanted an answer. Needed one. Small towns crowded him. Where some people found assurance and security—people like Heather apparently—he only felt the pressure of more people second-guessing his decisions. He’d never understand the draw of everyone nosing in to everyone else’s business.
“The Rooster?”
He laughed, the sound ringing bitterly in his ears. “No. Haleswood.”
“Oh.”
She went still and quiet and he had just decided she wouldn’t give him an answer when she told him to turn at the next intersection.
“Why?”
“Because we’ll need gear if we’re going to find the dogfight tonight.”
“We will not interfere, so we don’t need much gear beyond a camera,” he countered. “I have a good one at my place, which works for us because we also need to be seen back in Columbia.”
“You think they’re watching your house?”
“I’m sure of it. Someone was out there in the woods, keeping an eye on what happened to Terry’s body.”
“I didn’t see anyone and I’m a hunter.”
“You were distracted by grief and the dog.”
“True. And I’m still angry and distracted. I might be more of a hazard than a help to you tonight.”
“I think you’ll do fine.” He didn’t have another choice, but he wasn’t about to admit it.
“You missed the turn,” she said.
The woman kept his brain on a swivel. “We just agreed to go back to Columbia and make our cover story look good.”
“Are we being followed now?”
“No.”
“Then turn around. If the idea is to catch Lester, I want my own gear.”
“I have—”
“Dale.”
Deciding it wasn’t worth the argument, he checked the mirrors and slowed down, making the U-turn. She knew these back roads, that much was clear, but his sense of direction was excellent as well. “This isn’t the way to your house.”
“The gear I need is at the hunting lodge.”
He counted to ten, stopped at five. Now he was interrupting himself. The woman was a hazard to his mental health. “Public or private?”
“Well, it’s public knowledge my family owns the private property.”
Great. He thumped his fist against the steering wheel. They might well be walking into another Lester trap.
“I don’t see the problem. From what you’ve said, it’s not like he knew anything about me until a few days ago.”
She was right. His mistake had done that. His arrogance had put her in the line of fire. Dale discovered the truth hurt more than his bum leg.
“The hunting lodge isn’t a tourist spot or anything. We rarely rent it out. Usually we just—”
“Take friends from town.”
She grinned at him. “How’d you guess?”
“It’s the logical answer when it comes to Haleswood. You do realize there’s a great big world out there?”
“Like Columbia?”
“It’s a start,” he grumbled.
“I went away to college,” she reminded him. “I even managed to stop gawking at the great big world long enough to graduate with honors.”
“And you came running right back home.” He hadn’t meant to make that sound like an insult.
“You don’t know anything about it.”
“I’d like to.”
“Please.”
He didn’t have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes.
“You’re stuck,” he said.
“Pot meet kettle,” she muttered.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“If I’m stuck in Haleswood, you’re positively cemented into the FBI.”
“It’s a career.”
“A career that means you don’t have a life.”
“I have a life.”
“Not from what I saw. You have the FBI. Your house isn’t much more than a cave for the rare moments when you need to be away from the office.”
“I like my house.”
“I like it too. It could be lovely.”
Just because his place wasn’t cluttered with family photos, overstuffed recipe books, hand-me-down furniture, and an enormous cat didn’t mean he needed a decorator. “Could be?”
“Yes. See that break in the trees?”
He didn’t.
“Just drive on through, but watch out for ruts. And wildlife.”
He slowed down in order to meet her expectations as well as to give himself ample time to find the “break” in what appeared to be a solid wall of trees.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said.
“None taken.”
“Not believing you.” She pointed at something ahead of them. “You’ll want to bear left once we’re through.”
Finally spotting the gap, he made the turn and his tires settled into the ruts created by countless other vehicles.
“Why don’t you ever clear this?”
“It’s for hunting, not neighborhoods. We leave it alone as much as possible. Bear left,” she reminded him. “And this is really the back door.”
“Got it.” After the fork, the trees closed in even more and he tried not to wince when branches swiped at the doors. He’d be lucky if he got out of this with his paint job intact. He concentrated on the road, wishing she’d give him answers he could process and understand.
“Don’t you want to see the world?” He’d done his share of camping when he was a cub scout in elementary school. Seen more than a few slices of rugged terrain during his short stint with the Army. Since his injury, he hadn’t been anywhere more rural than a city park and he’d adapted just fine.
“I’ve seen plenty.”
“Disney World isn’t the real world.”
“That’s why they call it Disney Magic.”
She had a point.
“Almost there,” she said. “You can park on the right.”
“Right of what?” He rolled forward, peering through the windshield, stunned when the trees gave way to a wide clearing. A single story building stood at the far edge, a wide porch spreading out on either side of the door.
“Wow.” He hadn’t expected this.
“It’s almost better than a tent,” she said, beaming with a smile full of pride.
“I bet.”
He put the car in park and was about to turn it off when she told him she’d only be a minute.
“I don’t get a tour?”
“You really want one?”
“I figure something keeps you close to Haleswood.” He pointed to the lodge. “Maybe this is it.”
“Why do you care?”
Because she was a curiosity. “I don’t.”
“Then quit bringing up my life choices.” She pushed open the car door and climbed out.
He moved quickly, to follow her, ignoring the hitch and pull as muscles and tendons fought with each other. “How else am I supposed to get to know you?”
She whipped around, eyes flashing, hands on her hips. “Suddenly you want to know me?”
“Yes.”
“For this stupid cover story.” Her thumbs slid into her back pockets and her gaze narrowed.
“Yes.” As an excuse, it beat the hell out of the truth.
“Bullshit. We aren’t going to an office party, we’re going into the woods to spy on criminals.”
“We’ve got all day before it gets dark. If your family is going to give you a hard time, it will help if I know you. Maybe we should stop by and see your mom.”
“Oh, hell no.” She stomped up the steps to the door. “If—when—my family gives me a hard time, what would help is knowing something about YOU.”
“You’re right.”
The admission caught her full attention and she faced him once more from the top of the steps. She’d gained the high ground, points for her.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
“I guess it is a cave more than a home.”
“Already knew that much, Mr. FBI.” She shook her head, sending him the most pitying smile.
It annoyed him. As did her return to the less than flattering nickname. He supposed he’d earned that too. “I’m an orphan. The Army and FBI were—are—all the family I have.”
“What happened?”
He didn’t want to go there. “Life.” He shrugged. “I was young, there was a tragic accident, I moved on.”
“I see.”
He thought she did see. The whole ugly truth of life dealing out hard blows. “We weren’t ever close like you and your family.”
“I learned early there aren’t many families like ours.”
“Christmas Eve dinner at your mother’s house was the first family dinner I’ve been part of in over a decade.”
“Did you enjoy dinner with us?”
He nodded. The emotions, jumbled with the old memories of his sister and mother, clogged his throat. “I don’t want them to hassle you because of this. Because of me.”
“I can handle it.” This time the defensiveness was gone and he believed her. “A rapid-fire engagement is just the sort of thing a wandering soul like me does.”
“Doesn’t wandering imply—”
“If you make one more crack about me refusing to leave Haleswood, I’ll be going into the park alone tonight.”
“Okay, okay. You have so much—”
“Potential is another word you are not allowed to aim at me. I know my strengths and weaknesses and, contrary to popular opinion, I know what I want.”
“Information about me.”
“It would be a start,” she agreed, with another bright smile. “Are you going to cooperate?”
He gave it some thought, enjoying the way her expression changed as they watched each other in silence. “I wanted to stay with the Army,” he said finally.
“Not good enough,” she said, shaking her head. “Too obvious.”
“I’d planned on becoming a lawyer.”
Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “Do tell?”
“It’s true. After a few years with Special Forces I thought I’d go to law school and stay involved in the Reserves via the JAG office.”
“You would’ve been a great lawyer. You do the power suit very well.”
Another compliment he wasn’t sure how to handle. He shrugged it off. “It was a narrow escape. And a good one. I’m happier on this side of the justice system.”
“Good for you. Now tell me something personal.”
That had been more personal than any other conversation he’d had in years. “You’re tough.”
“You don’t have to look so terrified.”
“You don’t have to be so aggressive,” he countered, feeling an unexpected grin crease his face.
She laughed. “I’ll make it easy on you. Ice cream or cake?”
“Ice cream.”
“Chocolate, vanilla, or other?”
“Rocky Road.”
She tilted her head. “Fitting.”
He didn’t want to know what that meant. “And you, dear fiancée? Ice cream or cake?”
“Chocolate ice cream. Preferably with caramel sauce.”
Did that mean they had something in common besides a willingness to destroy Lester? “I’ll remember that.”
She waved him forward. “Come on and take a look around while I gather up the gear.”
He rubbed at his thigh as he took the steps in two strides and joined her on the porch.
“You need anything?” She pushed the door wide and led him into a big main room. “We keep the place stocked with basics like aspirin and allergy meds.”
He swallowed the bitter irritation. Just when he’d been thinking how great it was finding the one person in the world who ignored his limp and frequent discomfort, she had to offer him aspirin.
“We have condoms too.”
There she went, twisting things around again. “Is that a proposition?”
“Would you like it to be?” She walked away from him, then sent him an exaggerated coy look over her shoulder. “Relax. It’s just an invitation to make yourself at home. This will take me a few minutes.”
He looked around, impressed by the feel of the place. Solid. Warm. Open. Like the Morris family as a whole.
“Shit,” he whispered. His stupid cover story idea might have bought them a weekend of freedom to take down Lester, but her family was the kind that would worry over her sudden engagement to a broken man with no family.
They’d worry more about her when they learned there wasn’t anything real to back it up. He felt like a world-class jerk. This was why he avoided relationships. No one needed the drama of entanglements.
He wasn’t a monk, he went out on dates occasionally, but he never wasted a second imagining something long term. Life was notoriously short and unpredictable, and he liked the control of being alone.
He’d gone out before Thanksgiving and had a nice time with… a blonde. He couldn’t recall her name right this minute, but she worked at the university. Scrubbing at his face, he walked toward the kitchen in search of the aspirin he didn’t want to take.
“Janet!” he said aloud when the name came to him.
“You okay?” Heather stood at the kitchen door, biting back a smile.
“Just trying to recall a witness’s name.”
“Right.” She didn’t believe him, that much was obvious, but she didn’t press the issue. “Is there anything you need? Besides the aspirin?”
“Not if we’re headed to my place next.” He shook two pills into his palm and returned the bottle to the cabinet.
“All right. I’m almost done here.”
“Great.” He wanted to get away from this place that reeked of family ties and happy memories.
“Glasses are in the cabinet to your left,” she said, backing out of the kitchen. “Or you can grab a bottle of water from the fridge.”
“Thanks.” He took the pills, but he used his hand rather than dirty a glass or bother with a water bottle.
The Morrises had created a nice place out here and he respected the effort even as he resisted the family structure that made it all possible.
He was admiring the calming view of nature from the window over the sink when he heard Heather’s voice in the other room.
“I am not settling.” Her voice was low, but the intensity came through loud and clear. “Look, this isn’t a good time.”
Dale lingered in the kitchen, not sure where else to go to give her more privacy.
“Of course I sound defensive. You’re attacking me. Just keep an eye on Bentley.”
Ah, Bentley must be the name of the massive cat who’d stared him down when he’d searched her house.
She sighed again. “Please?” Another pause. “I am a grown up and if you rewind this conversation you’ll realize I’m the only one acting like one.”
He stepped to the kitchen doorway, thinking there might be something he could do to help.
Spotting him, she held the phone away from her ear and stuck out her tongue. “What? Are you there?” She made a garbled, gusty sound. “The signal’s bad. I’ll call you later.” With an exaggerated move, she powered off her phone and showed him the blank screen.
“That sounded like more than a text message.”
“Sarah, my oldest sister, is a real bitch,” she said. “Sometimes,” she amended after a long pause.
“I, well, my mistake, really screwed things up for you.”
She shook her head. “Your methods might be odd, but if we nail Lester it will be worth it.” Her smile, weak and fleeting, told the real story.
“When,” he corrected.
“When what?”
“When we catch Lester, not if.”
“Yeah.” Her smile gained a little strength. “I like that better.” She picked up a backpack and another small bag. “Let’s get moving before Sarah realizes I’m still within arm’s reach.”
He held open the door for her, refusing to notice the sweet scent of her hair as she squeezed past him.
While he waited for her to lock up, his phone chirped with a text message.
“Anything important?”
He didn’t answer right away as he was re-reading the message and trying to put it into context. When they reached the car and her bags were loaded, he handed her his phone. “Take a look and tell me what you think.”