Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Vance
The drive to Laramie and back gave me a great deal of time to think.
The problem was that I kept thinking about the wrong things.
All my focus needed to be on Katelyn’s murder investigation. On tying up the loose ends of my life here in Wyoming so that I could start making plans to move back to New York.
Claire was right. There was no reason for me to keep hanging around here, hoping my father would see my worth and want a real relationship with me.
That had been nothing but a waste of time—except for the fact that my attempts to prove myself had built a solid career that was starting to pay off.
There was nothing left for me in Wyoming.
Except Claire.
But I couldn’t let myself think that way.
I’d told her I wanted more and she’d said no.
I understood and respected it. Who’d want to be in a long-distance relationship with someone working unpredictable hours at the FBI?
That kind of thing was hard enough if you lived in the same house—my parents were proof of that.
Being seventeen hundred miles apart added a whole new level of difficulty.
For a moment, I’d actually considered staying in Wyoming just to be with her. I knew DCI would let me withdraw my resignation. And if they didn’t, there was always the job working for my dad.
But then Claire had said the kiss was no big deal and turned her attention back to the case.
I’d spent a decade in law enforcement, and I’d never once kissed a coworker or even flirted with the idea. I’d always kept strict boundaries between my work and my personal life. For me, letting Claire in on such a personal level and crossing those lines had felt monumental.
But for her, it had been no big deal.
I shook my head, irritated at myself. This was nothing more than an infatuation with a woman that, for some reason, I found entirely too bewitching. So bewitching that I’d actually considered turning down the most important job of my career.
No distractions. I understood now. There was a reason my father had always held that line, had never allowed even my mother to distract him from his life’s work. You couldn’t give everything to an investigation when your energy was split in two different directions.
The truth was that had Claire asked me to, I would have delayed getting Katelyn’s cell phone and laptop to stay with her until she’d recovered from her meeting with Sheriff McGrath.
There was no excuse for that. Not when the clock was ticking.
DCI couldn’t justify keeping me on this case full-time if it stalled.
We needed solid leads to keep moving forward; otherwise, they would turn it over to the locals and stay on only as consultants.
I didn’t trust Sheriff McGrath enough to turn it over to him.
No, I had to stay focused. Katelyn Brown deserved it.
So I avoided texting Claire while I was in Laramie. And when I pulled back into Falcon Ridge Ranch on Sunday night, I forced myself to eat dinner alone in my cabin. Then I dove into Katelyn’s laptop, hoping it would reveal her secrets.
Monday morning brought phone calls and red tape, so I didn’t make it to the office until after eleven. When I arrived, the bullpen was empty. So was my personal office. I frowned, having seen Claire’s truck in the parking lot, and headed down the hallway to look for her.
Sheriff McGrath’s office door was closed, but I could hear his muffled voice. Probably having another meeting with Claire, I thought, tensing.
I started to walk back to my desk but stopped. A clanging noise came from a storage closet down the hall, like something had been knocked over. I backtracked, moving noiselessly toward the door.
Someone was inside, their voice deliberately muted.
I put my ear to the door, straining to listen.
My eyes narrowed when I realized I was hearing what sounded like a heated one-sided conversation between Collins and someone else.
His voice was low, barely carrying over the sound of the footsteps that grew louder then faded away, like he was pacing the floor in the small space.
“I told you I’ll take care of it. She won’t be a problem.” He sounded pissed.
Pause.
“I’m taking care of it my way, that’s how.”
Pause.
“I can’t do that.”
Pause.
“I can handle her.”
Pause.
“I’m telling you it’s a bad idea. Better for me to spin it now than to cover it up and risk it coming out later.”
A long pause.
“Fine.” He sounded defeated. “We’ll do it your way. I’ll text you if anything changes.”
He let out a loud breath, like he’d ended the conversation. But he kept pacing.
The conversation could have been about a million different things, I reminded myself.
But considering the circumstances, I had to wonder if he was talking about Claire.
He was jealous she’d been given this case, and he threw her under the bus every chance he got.
Was it possible someone else was pushing him to do it?
And if so, were they sabotaging her personally in order to sabotage the case?
He’d already tried to get her reassigned, then had thrown her under the bus with some serious accusations about her work ethic and attitude.
He sneered at her every chance he got, and he likely had no issue with his friends sexually harassing her as long as I wasn’t there to see it.
If he was being asked to do something worse, something that even he balked at, that raised concerns about Claire’s safety.
The undermining had been bad enough, but if he planned to escalate things?
Unexpected rage coursed through me.
I silently backtracked, slipping into the men’s room while I waited for him to leave. When I heard the door close and the sound of his footsteps fade down the hallway, I waited another two minutes, then headed toward the bullpen.
When I got there, Collins was sitting at his desk, red-faced as he typed furiously on his computer.
“Where is everyone today?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.
He barely glanced up. “In a meeting.” He went back to his typing, then shook himself, like he was remembering who I was. “Sorry. Can I help you with anything, Agent Weston?”
“Nah, I’m good. Everything okay? You seem stressed.”
Annoyance flashed in his eyes. “I’m great. I just have a lot to deal with. You know, helping Sheriff McGrath keep the town under control.” He stood up, grabbing his jacket. “In fact, I was just heading out to do that. So if you’re sure you don’t need anything…”
I shook my head, eyebrows raised. “Nope, not a thing.”
“Great. Have a good day, Agent Weston.”
He snapped his laptop shut, tucked it under his arm, and stormed out, leaving a cloud of anger behind him.
I went back to my desk, leaving the door open so I could catch Claire when she left Sheriff McGrath’s office. The electric chime sounded, alerting that the door to the front lobby had opened. Curious, I stuck my head out to look.
A familiar-looking blonde woman walked inside.
It took me a second to place her. She was the woman from the photo on Sheriff McGrath’s desk.
His wife, presumably. Despite having aged at least ten years since the time of the photo, she still kept her hair platinum blonde and straight, just like Leslie Evans.
And based on the way her forehead stayed frozen in place when she greeted Andrea, I had a feeling she spent a lot of time and money keeping up her appearance.
“Hey, Andrea,” she said, walking up to the front.
“Oh, Serena, it’s great to see you. I love that new coat. You look just like a member of the royal family.”
“Thank you.” Serena beamed, smoothing down the front of the red pea coat with her pink polished nails. “It’s not too much?”
Andrea shook her head. “It’s gorgeous. Wish I could pull off something like that myself. But it’s not practical for what I do.”
“We all need pretty things for special occasions,” Serena chided. “You should treat yourself more. Especially with as much as they put you through up here.”
Andrea laughed. “You’re probably right about that. Now, I’m guessing you’re here to see the sheriff?”
As Serena smiled, a hint of a blush crept into her cheeks. “Yes. I was hoping to steal him away for a lunch date. Is he in? I tried calling him as I was driving over, but he didn’t answer. I haven’t been able to get a hold of him all day.”
Andrea nodded slowly. “He is. But he’s in a meeting right now, and he asked that I not interrupt him. If you want to wait, I’m sure they’ll be wrapped up soon.”
Serena’s smile became pinched. “Oh? Who is he meeting with?”
“Deputy Hawkins. A case update, you know.”
A look of displeasure flashed across Serena’s face. She quickly replaced it with a practiced smile. “Of course. Have they been back there long? Just wondering how long of a wait it might be.”
Interesting. Based on her body language and micro expressions, I’d have bet money that’s not what she was wondering at all. Sheriff McGrath’s wife appeared to be jealous of Claire. I had to wonder why.
I leaned back against my doorframe, glad that the building layout gave me a great view of the front desk while mostly blocking me from sight. Neither woman had noticed me, which meant I could watch them without making up some pretense as to why.
Andrea glanced at the clock on her desk. “Shouldn’t be too much longer. But you know how long-winded the sheriff can be when he gets going!” She was clearly trying to reassure his wife, but based on the look on Serena’s face, it hadn’t worked.
“Yes, I know,” Serena said with a strangled laugh.
Footsteps down the hall caught all of our attention. As she turned her head, Serena glanced at me, her eyes narrowing. But she quickly moved her gaze past me to whoever was walking my way.
I turned and saw Claire. When her eyes met mine, my heart squeezed.
She was back in uniform, her hair slicked back in a tight bun. Her face was pale, her eyes looked sad, and her shoulders were racked with tension.
No distractions, I tried to tell myself.
But something more primal inside me threatened to override it.
Keep her safe.