Chapter Nineteen
Franny sat making small talk with the sheriff’s administrative assistant in between the phone calls she fielded. She watched the sheriff leave at Miranda’s insistence, then waited for Royal and Copeland to follow.
It took them a few minutes, which made her uneasy. But she fixed a smile on her face when they finally came out. Royal looked irritated. Copeland looked a little smug—which she supposed meant he’d been poking at Royal.
“I’m going to work on getting to the bottom of the FBI stuff,” Copeland told her. “Whether they want to tell us or not, we deserve to know. You deserve to know. The sheriff will be diplomatic. I don’t have to be.”
“Well, don’t get fired or anything. You’d drive Audra crazy being around all the time.”
“Ha,” he replied sarcastically. “Let Royal take you back to Hope Town. Keep locked up with the security. Maybe get some work done. Let us handle it.”
Franny nodded. Not because she was going to let anyone do anything, but because arguing with a brick wall was pointless.
So she followed Royal back out to the parking lot. He wasn’t saying anything. He was clearly thinking, or planning. She could tell from the expression on his face he’d put earlier into some kind of box and shoved it deep down underneath what needed to be done.
“I could talk to Lia,” Franny suggested when they were in the car driving back to Hope Town. “Maybe Albennie has told her or she even knows. Maybe she’ll tell me now that Albennie’s safe.”
“Maybe,” Royal agreed, still deep in thought as he drove. “Maybe that’s not a bad backup plan.”
“Backup?”
“Yeah, my plan first. We’re not going back to your apartment just yet.”
“We’re not?” She was more than a little shocked he wasn’t bustling her away.
“We’re going to Simmons’s house.”
“Why?”
He sent her a sidelong look. “Because Simmons and I had a discussion about the woman Lia and I saw poking around Hope Town after the kidnapping. And I took the information to someone who has some…skills at finding out who people are.”
Franny considered that sentence. What he was saying. What he wasn’t. She was pretty sure the only time he’d left Hope Town, or talked to anyone not directly in Hope Town or connected to the police department was when they’d gone to dinner at his sister’s ranch last night.
It was natural to extrapolate from there. “Zeke.”
He frowned, sent her a quick glance. “How did you know that?”
“Well, I didn’t know. I guessed. You likely could have missed dinner with your sister, but instead you took me with you.
So you could talk to him when Brooke was distracted.
Besides, there’s something about Zeke that makes it…
easy to believe he’d have said skills. It explains last night better than… anything else.”
“I don’t need Brooke to be distracted. He probably told her about it anyway. I invited you because I didn’t like the idea of being that far away if something happened, like I said.”
Franny didn’t say anything to that. She felt petulant and weird. Uncomfortable and…maybe she’d blame the allergy med hangover on not quite knowing how to navigate all of this.
“Brooke likes you,” he said, out of nowhere. In a careful way that didn’t quite make sense.
“I like Brooke. And Zeke. I even like their animals, even if their cat inadvertently tried to kill me. They’ve got a sweet little ranch, and you can tell they’re…happy together. Settled. It’s like my cousins. It’s nice watching people build things.”
Build. She sighed in spite of herself. She’d watched her cousins and friends build, and she felt the exact same as the day she’d moved to Wyoming three years ago.
Until Royal Campbell had kissed her last night. Which was a wild leap, but all chances started with tiny seeds. Maybe they didn’t all grow, but they all had a chance.
He just had to get past…his whole traumatic childhood. Sure, Franny, why shouldn’t he do that just because you told him to?
“My point is… If you were annoying or whatever, I’d hardly cart you around or stick by your side.” He didn’t say it begrudgingly exactly, but he was frowning while he said it.
Maybe that’s why she said what she did. “You didn’t last night.”
He flicked her another dark blue glance. “I told you why.”
“I think there’s a compliment in there?”
Royal blew out an irritated breath. With her? The situation? Both? She didn’t know, but he kept talking.
“The point is, Zeke found this woman’s identity. She used to be an FBI agent. Briefly. I want that to mean that she’s only connected to Albennie Ward.”
“But?”
“Look, library card catalogue card and burning books? It just doesn’t strike me as the kind of threat you get from hired muscle.
And we know a woman was involved with checking the books out of the Sunrise library.
I want it to be a coincidence, but until I know for sure it is, I’m worried you’re not out of the clear.
If they didn’t catch these people, then the kidnapper, and maybe this woman, knows you can still implicate them. You’re a liability to them.”
She really didn’t like that. Unfortunately, she agreed. She desperately wanted it to be over, but it wouldn’t be until the person she’d identified was behind bars. And if this woman was connected to him…yeah, her too.
Royal drove through Hope Town, not stopping at their apartments. He drove on out to the outskirts of town, where some of the big showpiece houses were.
When he pulled through a big wrought iron gate, Franny leaned forward in her seat.
“Wow.” Franny stared at the house. It shouldn’t surprise her considering Mr. Simmons’s wife was a famous country singer, whose father had been a famous country singer. That meant money. But…
It was a beautiful old house, with all sorts of interesting features—architecture and windows and a huge wraparound porch. Landscaping and hanging baskets of blooms complemented everything.
Royal came to a stop in the driveway. For a moment, they both just sat and took in the house.
“And I thought him affording a whole damn town was something,” Royal muttered.
Franny chuckled in spite of herself, glancing over at him. His mouth quirked into an amused smile as their gazes caught.
She sighed. Now wasn’t the time, but… “Royal…”
“Come on,” he muttered. He got out of the car so Franny followed. Not the time.
She could hear the squawk of chickens and noted there was a little coop off to the side toward the back. It was painted red and looked as cute as any Pinterest page.
“It’s gorgeous. This would be the perfect place to set a murder.” At Royal’s sharp look, she smiled sheepishly. “I meant fictionally.”
He shook his head and moved up the porch steps, rapping on the door.
Mr. Simmons opened it, a baby on his hip. The image made Franny smile, just like every time she saw Thomas carting around his and Vi’s brood. There was just something really nice about watching a man be a good father. Which made her think of Rosalie and Duncan. They’d make such cute babies.
“Thanks for meeting me here,” Mr. Simmons said, over the sounds of explosions and dinosaur roaring in the background.
He bounced the baby on his hip. “Lucy’s supposed to get back today, but I’m solo parenting until she gets home.
This whole county is crawling with family, and do you think a one of them could spare some babysitter duties?
No. Why? Because we all have too many damn kids. ”
He led them into a big living room. For as gorgeous and formal as the outside looked, inside was warm and cozy and covered in kid paraphernalia. On a huge screen, Jurassic Park was playing.
A little boy was hanging off the arm of the big couch, his eyes on the TV, but he glanced over at them briefly.
“I’m not scared.” The boy’s eyes were wide and serious. He didn’t look scared, but the statement spoke of concern.
“Wow. You must be brave like your daddy,” Franny offered.
The boy flashed a grin, then his gaze went back to the movie.
“I keep waiting for him to grow out of the dino phase. Hasn’t happened yet. Look, I’ve got some things in my office I’d like to show you, Royal, but…”
“I can take her. Watch him,” Franny offered, holding her arms out for the baby. “I’m the aunt babysitter in my family. Lots of practice.” Besides, kids were simple. They didn’t make her heart ache like Royal’s serious blue eyes did.
“Well, she’s kind of particular,” Mr. Simmons said, but he handed the baby over. Then he watched the baby, who looked up at Franny with serious eyes like her father. But she didn’t express negative feelings.
“Huh,” Mr. Simmons said.
Franny smiled at him, made a face at the baby. “I’m a natural. I’ll keep an eye on things here. You go show Royal whatever you need to.”
Mr. Simmons waited a few more seconds, watching the baby for signs of distress, then shrugged. “All right, Campbell. Follow me.”
ROYAL WAS NOT weirded out by Franny holding a baby. That off feeling in his gut, like when Brooke talked about her own baby plans and futures and families, was a product of spending an entire childhood not being able to trust the future.
It wasn’t about babies, in particular, it was just like this looming future. That he somehow had to believe in and yet struggled to get past the idea that death or evil was always just waiting in the wings to destroy any kind of happiness or real life.
That his failures meant…whatever waited him on the other side of the Sons wasn’t anything good.
Except the Sons were gone, and he was a cop, and maybe he had to take Brooke’s example and start building on…faith.
Franny had tapped his badge and told him he’d earned it. Had he?
Thinking about it left an uncomfortable tightness in his chest, and an itch behind his shoulder blades he couldn’t reach. He was almost grateful he didn’t have the time to parse it.
Simmons led him into a big office-type room and Royal was glad to have work to focus on over homey living rooms and cute kids.
And pretty brunettes with big green eyes.
Royal relayed the information Zeke had found to Simmons.
“This woman’s real name is Holand Meyer.
She’s got a few aliases, but Zeke couldn’t connect any of them to Wyoming over the past month.
She was an FBI agent stationed in Michigan for about six months five years ago, and then she disappears, more or less.
He can make the connection to the aliases, but not much else.
He’ll keep digging, but the FBI connection is a problem. ”
“Yeah, it is.” Simmons tapped his fingers on his desk.
He had at least three computers, and all looked far more complicated than Royal could ever hope to understand.
“There’s got to be a leak somewhere. Someone who knows about Hope Town in the FBI knows Holand Meyer and fed her that information. Purposefully or not.”
“I agree.”
“But what’s the connection? What connects a kidnapper, a former FBI agent and Albennie Ward?”
“You know,” Royal said, tired of people beating around the bush.
“Maybe you don’t fully know, but you know what Albennie Ward is mixed up in.
Or was. You have enough information from your FBI contacts and whatever you do for these women when they come to Hope Town.
She’s back. She’s safe. Now we need to make sure Franny is safe before the sheriff pulls the entire police department. I’ve got a damn week.”
Simmons studied him intently for a few seconds. “You know, I was skeptical about some rookie cop handling this, but I agreed because I figured I could push him around if he was bad at his job.”
Royal said nothing. He’d swallow a lot for a chance to succeed at this job, but he’d be damned if he was going to be pushed around by some ex–FBI agent when it came to keeping Franny safe.
“You’re not bad at your job, Campbell. I can’t disclose Albennie Ward’s case, for a lot of reasons. But now that I’ve got a name, I can look through what I know about it and see if there’s any connection to Holand Meyer.”
“All right.” It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. “And you’ll send me the list of people arrested if you get it before the sheriff’s department?”
“Right away.” Simmons studied him. “What are your next steps?”
“I don’t know. Wait I guess.”
“You any good at waiting?” Simmons asked.
Royal thought about the time he’d spent back in the Sons. The things he’d seen and done with an end goal of protecting some of those girls. Any of those girls. He’d had to bide his time back then, too, and play a hell of a lot of games.
“Yeah, I’m a damn expert at waiting,” he muttered, turning away from Simmons and walking back out to where they’d come from.
When they got back into the living room, the boy was lying across Franny’s lap, still watching the movie intently, but he had one hand gripped on Franny’s arm. The baby was sitting next to them, and Franny was dangling a little bird toy in front of her, making her gurgle with laughter.
“She literally doesn’t like anyone but me right now,” Simmons said, clearly baffled.
Franny looked up at them, a relaxed smile on her face that hadn’t been there in days. “I have been called the baby whisperer a time or two.”
She carefully disentangled herself from the boy, then lifted the girl and handed her off to Simmons.
Simmons studied her curiously. “You looking for a babysitting job?”
Franny laughed. “Sure, now and then. You’ve got my number.”
He walked them out into the bright light of morning. Franny said cheerful goodbyes to both kids, but with every step toward his cruiser he watched the tension creep back into her shoulders.
“So?” she asked as they climbed into the car.
He wished he had a better answer for her. “Leads, I guess, but not answers.”
Franny blew out a breath. “Well, leads are better than nothing.”
He slid a glance at her before returning his eyes to the road. She was trying to be positive. She was always trying so hard to…make everything okay for anyone in her orbit.
Case in point, when he parked next to her building rather than his, she turned that warm smile on him. “You don’t have to walk me up.”
He didn’t. The cameras and alarms were all in place, but he went up just the same. Something about the whole day just felt off. Was it him? Her? This…thing about her that seemed to jumble up his previously held certainty? All those things she’d said to him…
It didn’t matter. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight until he had some answers. He walked up the stairs with her. “Have you had breakfast? We could go down to the bakery and—”
That off feeling finally had a place to land. He grabbed her arm before she could reach forward and put her key in the lock. “Don’t open the door.”