31
I sit at Richter’s desk, trying not to let rage consume me. Across from me, Richter carefully sifts through the flight records of Aiden King.
“Looks like he’s been using his plane every other Friday night for the last three months,” Richter says.
I lean in, ignoring the crackle of the police scanner. “New York City?”
Richter nods. “That’s where it says he’s going.” He sits back and runs a finger over his mustache. “He registered the craft with the FAA, but that doesn’t mean he’s not forging his location. Or he knows someone who can delete flight logs.”
“Smart.” I shuffle through the papers, move on to the still images taken around town. Dakota opening the Corner Store. Wyatt down at the rodeo grounds. “He’d be on the security cameras.”
Richter studies me. “They don’t get every nook and cranny in this town. You know that.”
I do.
I also know what Dakota told me.
Aiden plays the long game.
If he can wait a year into a relationship to lay hands on his girlfriend, then he sure as hell can lie low in Resurrection.
“You have enough to get this guy arrested?” Richter asks after a long sip of cold coffee.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“We could open a case down in DC, but you know how that’ll go.”
It’ll go right into the trash.
There’s no police report. No photographs of her bruises. Nothing other than Dakota’s word against King’s. Certainly nothing that will have the cops in DC wanting to take the lead from a small town.
I glance at the files spread across the desk. An unofficial case file Richter’s opened for me. It’s been three weeks since Dakota sprung the name Aiden King on me. Since then, Richter and I have worked tirelessly to dig up anything we can on him.
Other than going missing for forty-eight hours on the weekends, it’s all we have on him. He’s up to something. What that is, fuck if I know.
I could fly to DC, put a bullet in his goddamn head, and end it, but I don’t want to leave Dakota alone.
Don’t want to risk us crossing paths. Besides, it’d be a deadly mistake that could cost me everything.
Dakota. Our future. The thought of getting caught is enough to make me play it safe. Play it smart.
At least until King sets foot on my turf.
Richter rubs his chin and waits. “Should you be messing with this guy, Montgomery?”
I glance at the blown-up photo of Aiden King pulled from the website of his equities management firm. Arms crossed, he leans back against a brick wall. Pretty-boy attractive with rough stubble and a sharp jawline. Smug fuck. It makes me want to put my fist through his face again and again.
“Yes,” I growl. “I should be.”
“Personal’s dangerous.”
“It is.”
“I don’t want trouble touching my town, Davis.”
“It won’t.” I’ll get him before then.
“Davis.” Buzz Topper hovers over us.
“What?” I bark.
“You want to drop the tail on Dakota McGraw?” he asks.
It makes my stomach churn to ease up on Dakota’s safety.
Crossing my arms, I glance out the window to The Corner Store. Dakota’s new Jeep shines in the parking lot. She’s twenty feet away, and her nearness is intoxicating. She’s the center of my gravity and every second I’m apart from her, I feel like I’m falling off the face of the earth.
As irritating as he is, I consider Topper’s question.
She has the tracker, and she’s barely out of my sight.
Maybe it’s enough. Still, it has me anxious to think of taking eyes off her, especially now that I know King’s pulling the disappearing act every other weekend.
I also can’t underestimate Dakota’s stubbornness.
She won’t let me keep her under lock and key forever.
Plus, that baby’s coming soon. Our life won’t know what hit it.
Because that’s what this is. Our life.
My son. My girl. No doubt.
“No,” I tell him. “A few more weeks.”
Richter eyes me. “You think about becoming a cop?”
“I got enough on my plate with my brothers.” I slip the photo of King into the manilla folder.
“What you want with that?” Richter demands.
“Target practice.”
Aiden King’s photo is going up on the Bullshit Box’s dartboard. I want to ingrain the asshole’s face in my memory, so if he comes to Resurrection, I’ll know exactly where to aim.
My phone vibrates.
DAKOTA: ALONE IN CORNER STORE. PREGNANT. BORED. HORNY. SEND HELP. OR BETTER YET, A MARINE.
I chuckle. The thought of a naked Dakota pressed against the kitchen wall of The Corner Store has me hard already.
Folder in hand, I shove out of my chair. “Appreciate your help,” I tell Richter and turn for the door.
“Montgomery.” Richter’s boom of a voice stops me. “You don’t have a badge. Remember that.”
My hand fists.
Richter swears under his breath. “I’m breaking rules for you, Davis. Because you’re a good guy. But my station, my town, comes first.”
I give a nod. “I understand that, sir.”
Richter won’t have to break his black-and-white rules. But I will. When it comes to my family, gray is all that matters.
I’m halfway across the parking lot when the sputter of an engine has me turning.
Fuck.
Stede McGraw.
Our meeting flashes through my mind.
A meeting I’ve forgotten.
Quickly, I tuck the folder containing King’s photo under my arm and redirect my stride from Dakota to Stede.
But the old man misses nothing.
Stede’s bushy eyebrows rise. “My daughter safe?” he asks as he wanders toward me.
“She is.”
“I like to hear that.” He motions toward his truck. “You want to talk? Let’s talk.”
We settle inside his dusty pickup, twisting to face each other.
The scent of coffee and sawdust fill the cab of his truck. A photo of Dakota and Fallon as little girls peeks out from the underside of his visor.
“I don’t like rumors, Davis. Not in my town.” Stede’s tone is no-bullshit. “And when I hear rumors, I like to get to the bottom of them.”
“I understand that, sir.” I harden my jaw and look Stede in the eyes. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you today. It’s about Dakota.”
Frowning, he puts his hand up. “I told you to take care of my daughter.”
Fuck. I swallow hard. The man may have cancer, but I have no doubt he’d take me to the mat for his daughter. Especially if he knew I was just on my way to fuck his daughter raw. “That isn’t what you meant; I get it—”
“No, son. It’s goddamn exactly what I meant.” A smile cracks his craggy face. “It took you two long enough.”
The tightness in my chest loosens.
“My daughter’s strong,” Stede says. “She’s a fighter. She makes me the proudest father in the world. And you’re the one she needs.”
“Pretty sure I’m the one who needs her.” I rub my jaw, then come out with it. “I want to marry her, sir.”
It’s the only thing to say. I need a ring on her finger like my last breath. Rope myself to this woman until the end of time.
“Every blessing you want—they’re yours.” His grin widens. “This saves me time and saves you time. You want to marry her and raise that boy as a Montgomery, then you do that. And remember what I told you.”
“And what’s that?”
“Be true. It’s all I ask. Otherwise, I got a shotgun with your name on it.”
“Always.” I grin, my heartbeat jumping all over the place. “You should tell your daughter you’re proud of her, sir. I think she’d want to know.”
The old man’s gray eyes go misty. “Giving me advice?”
I chuckle. “No, Stede. Just sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Stede holds out a hand, and I take it. “Welcome to the goddamn family, son.”