A Secret In Conard County

Their meals arrived with a pointed clatter and slam. Erin jumped, her eyes popping open, her hand instinctively sliding beneath her jacket again.

“Easy,” said Lance Conroe. “That was the local version of the dinner bell.”

Despite the surge of adrenaline that had just coursed through her, she had to smile faintly. The local dinner bell? Cute. But the adrenaline proved salutary, and she felt wide-awake. It wouldn’t last, but it might get her through a meal.

In front of her sat a huge sandwich on thick slabs of bread with steak poking out all around. Juice ran from it onto her plate, sneaking up on the French fries. The aromas were heavenly, causing her mouth to water, and fatigue seemed to slip away as she reached for half the sandwich.

Lance let her eat without interruption as he ate his own sandwich. Her eyes wandered out the window, watching people strolling by, noting the age of the town with hints of the Wild West and hints of the Victorian and hints of the twenties and thirties. A mix that managed to be charming.

“Small town,” she half asked.

“Five thousand in town, another four thousand or so scattered all over the county. There are smaller towns in Wyoming, but bigger ones, too. We’re big enough to be on the map.”

That description brought another faint smile to her face. “But small enough for some good gossip?”

“It fills a lot of hours,” he admitted.

“It won’t cause you any trouble to be seen having a meal here with a strange woman?”

He shrugged. “What are they going to say? This couldn’t be any more public.”

“True.”

“And it’s not as if I’m married.”

Her smile widened a shade as the calories began to hit her system. “Well, that takes all the juice out of the gossip.”

“Maybe. Or it could rev it up.” He shrugged again and took another bite of his sandwich. “So, do you have any idea where you’re going?”

“No,” she admitted. “I just wanted to get away from Chicago, and figured I could wander through the West, take in the sights. What I didn’t count on was the pull of the mountains. I wanted to reach them, once I started seeing them, and...I drove too long today.”

“Well, you’ve reached them now. Hang around a few days and I’ll be glad to take you for a drive to some really spectacular views.”

Quite a nice offer, but it made her feel uneasy. Was she leaving one mess behind, however temporarily, to make another one? She didn’t want to. Instead of answering, she looked out the window again and noticed how flattened everything looked. Apparently the sun had slipped behind the mountains, and while the sky remained bright overhead, the shadows that added dimension were gone. Curious. She liked it. It seemed to suit her rather unpleasant mood.

But then, weary or not, she realized she was being rude to a man who was only trying to help her out. He didn’t deserve it, and while he might put it down to her being unwell, it still wasn’t right.

She turned to him again. “It’s a pretty little town,” she offered.

“A bit worn about the edges. When the resort was getting ready to open, they started sprucing us up a bit. New sidewalks, new streetlights, maybe some paint...but it hardly got started before the landslide shut them down.”

She managed another bite of the sandwich, knowing she needed the energy. “Are they going to try again?”

“I don’t know. They were almost ready to open, but there was a lot of destruction. Nobody knows if they’ll write it off now. Thing is, one of their people lives in town now. He said that landslide was a freak of some bad weather. The company hired him on again to recheck the geology up there. That landslide may have been a onetime thing, and if so...” He shrugged.

“So everything’s on hold.”

“It’s been on hold more years than I can count. We’ve had at least five companies interested. This last one came closer than anyone has. They even finished building a new runway to handle more air traffic.” He shrugged. “Still, who can say when a project becomes more trouble than it’s worth?”

“Not being in the business, I couldn’t venture a guess.”

He nodded and pushed his plate aside. His sandwich was gone and he’d ignored the fries. Erin took another bite of hers, finally feeling the restorative effects of the food. “If you’re in a hurry,” she said tentatively.

That drew a broad smile from him. “We’re rarely in a hurry around here. Oh, we get our share of problems, everything from toxic dumping to a serial killer, but it’s not constant. Small-town policing is pretty laid-back usually.”

“You like it?”

“After ten years in Denver, I love it.”

“Did you grow up here?”

“I sure did. My dad was a schoolteacher.”

“So you still have family here?”

“My aunt Maria, bless her heart.” He leaned back as his coffee cup was refilled by the inimitable Maude, who then glared at Erin to ask, “Another latte?”

“Please.”

The woman stomped off.

Erin pushed her own plate aside. “I guess I’m going to need a doggie bag.”

Lance leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “No problem. You know what you said about a bad confrontation with a bad guy?”

She stiffened, barely nodding.

“I had something similar happen to me. Hence the small-town policing. Some things you never want to experience twice.”

Wow, she thought. Instantly she liked him even more. He’d walked in her shoes and there was probably very little she had to tell him, because he understood.

Except maybe he didn’t understand this running part. Well, it wasn’t exactly running. She wasn’t fit for duty yet, and the Bureau had wanted to put her in protection. Instead she’d chosen to clear out for a while, since the bad guy was still on the loose. No, not exactly running, she assured herself. Merely taking a wise evasive maneuver.

The fresh latte arrived along with a foam box for her leftovers. Apart from being a Gorgon, Maude seemed to read minds. Not a word passed, not a query about whether she wanted to take that half sandwich with her. Of course, maybe it never occurred to the woman that anyone would leave her cooking behind.

“You’re looking tired again,” Lance said suddenly. “Let’s go. I’ll help you move into the motel and get you registered.”

“I need to pay.”

“I run a tab with Maude, so forget it. As for the motel, no payment required until you leave.”

Erin felt her brows rise. “That’s a great way to get ripped off.”

He smiled again. “It would be if they let everyone do that. FBI? I think they’ll give you the same courtesy they’d give me.”

She was beginning to feel as if she’d gone down the rabbit hole to a very different universe.

Chapter 2

Erin awoke early in the morning, and for a blessed few minutes nothing hurt. The TV ran quietly, creating background noise to mask the engine roars from the truck stop. The half-finished latte stood on the nightstand. The clock told her she’d slept fourteen hours. Fourteen. And without a pain pill.

She didn’t want to move. As soon as she stirred, the pain would return, at least some of it. She needed to get on the road again. The guy who’d nearly killed her was off the grid, and she had to stay off it, too, as much as possible. Keep moving, use cash wherever possible and wait for the phone call to tell her he was caught, or until she felt well enough to resume duty. She’d chosen this over protective custody, and every single day asked herself why. But she knew why. She felt safer in the middle of nowhere, and she knew she couldn’t stand being in protection, virtually locked up in a safe house under constant guard.

They were sure he still wanted to get her. After all, he’d apparently come for her after someone had leaked her identity and that she was getting close to finding him. A serial bomber. Great thing to have on her tail. A great reason not to feel safe in a safe house, even if cabin fever wouldn’t have driven her crazy.

She should get up and get going again. No matter how much it hurt. But she could see no harm whatsoever in enjoying these few minutes of peace, where no threat hovered, where no pain touched her.

She’d left the lights on, and she dared to turn her head a little. For a supposed fleabag, the La-Z-Rest wasn’t that bad. The decor was badly outdated Western, the kind that shrieked cheap and old, but everything she’d used so far had been spotlessly clean. It would never get five stars, or even two, but all she cared was that it was clean.

Finally, the time to move had come. Her damaged body began to ache again, to throb in a few places. Sleep was losing its grip on her brain.

Sighing, moving slowly, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor. No carpeting, just linoleum that had been scrubbed almost bare of its pattern. Somehow that was reassuring. Next, a hot shower, as hot as she could stand. That would loosen her up for dressing.

Then she had to decide. Move on again? Or stay put for a few days? Staying put and walking the streets of this town lost in time seemed amazingly appealing after all the driving. And walking would help keep her loosened up, keep the pain from reaching shrieking intensity as it did if she held still for too long. The way it probably would when she stood up after such a lengthy sleep.

Agony struck her the minute she rose. It froze her in place while she sucked air from the shock of it, then it eased enough for her to move. It would get better. The docs had promised. It was just that she had suffered so much injury.

Which was putting it mildly, she thought with a kind of bitter amusement as she eased her way into the bathroom and turned on the shower. One of them had even tried to joke about it. “Pain is your friend. It means you’re still alive.”

Well, that was debatable, she thought as she stood under the hot spray. There were times when surviving being shot and being blown up didn’t seem like such a good thing. Ironic, though, that the gunshot that had brought her down just as she stumbled on the bomber had helped protect her when the bomb blew up her house. Very ironic. Maybe someday she could even tell the story with humor. Not yet, however. Definitely not yet.

A half hour later, she was dressed in a light beige slack suit—probably not the style for this place—and comfortable walking flats. She still hadn’t made up her mind about moving on, but she figured she’d stick out on the streets dressed this way. So what? Only Fran knew where she was, and she couldn’t face the restrictive waistband on jeans today. This slack suit had elastic gores in the waist, reducing the pressure on some of her scars.

Moving with care, she managed to get her shoulder holster on over the royal blue shell and put her pistol into it. Once she pulled on the lightweight matching jacket, only an experienced eye would be able to tell she was armed.

She put her credentials and her wallet in the slacks pockets and felt as ready as she would ever be to face this day.

Breakfast first, she decided. But when she stepped outside, she saw what Lance had meant about this stretch of highway. Crossing it on foot might be suicidal unless a person could move swiftly, and that was beyond her now.

Car keys in her hand, she debated whether to try to find that diner. And she still had to pay for the room.

As she was standing there in an unusual state of indecision, a sheriff’s vehicle rolled up right in front of her. Lance sat in the driver’s seat and he leaned his elbow on the open window as he smiled at her.

“Saw your car still here. You staying for a while?”

“Thinking about it,” she admitted. “Mostly thinking about breakfast. I see what you mean about the highway.”

“Like I said, some fools can’t read and others don’t care. Hop in and I’ll take you to the diner.”

She liked the way he suggested she hop in, especially since he’d practically had to pour her into his vehicle when he picked her up yesterday. “Don’t you have to work?”

“You’re my work now.”

Thunderstruck, she narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well, after I checked you out yesterday, my boss got a call from the Bureau. Asked us to keep an eye on you as long as you wanted to stay. So here I am, your protection detail. Wanna tell me to go to hell?”

The way he asked the question and arched one eyebrow drew a reluctant laugh from her. “No, but I do want breakfast.”

“And the sheriff wants to meet you. So if you want to climb in, we’ll do the diner first.”

So much for a low profile, she thought, scanning the highway as her nerves started to jump. Why had the sheriff been dragged in on this? Why did they feel she needed protection?

All of a sudden a lot of questions hammered at her. “Sheriff first,” she said decisively.

“You got it.”

* * *

Appearing more rested, and dressed in that quietly elegant pantsuit, Erin looked as if she ought to be strolling the streets of a much bigger, classier burg than this one, Lance thought as he drove them toward the sheriff’s offices. Kinda pretty, too, now that her brown eyes didn’t appear quite as sunken. But no one would mistake her yet for being in perfect health. She did resemble a Fed now, though.

“You’re looking a whole lot better this morning,” he said.

“Fourteen hours of sleep will do that.”

“Fourteen?” He whistled. “My dogs wouldn’t let me get away with that.”

A quiet laugh reached him. “How many do you have?”

“Two. One’s an English mastiff, the other a short-haired Saint Bernard. When they jump on the bed, I don’t have much of a choice.”

“I guess not. There wouldn’t be any room left.”

“And to think I considered getting an Irish wolfhound once upon a time.”

“Uh... I’ve only seen one in my life but they’re huge, aren’t they?”

“Practically need a stable for one. My guys are good dogs, by the way, so if you ever come by my place, you don’t need to be nervous. They’d give away the store, not guard it. Of course, the mastiff might not let you leave after you robbed me blind.”

That drew a genuine laugh from her, a nice sound that he was glad to hear. “I think I’d like to meet them,” she said.

“That can be arranged.”

At least she was no longer looking haunted and indecisive as she had been while standing outside her room. There was an instant change, though, when they pulled up at the sheriff’s offices, across the street from the courthouse square. Maybe she was expecting memories to be brought up, things she didn’t want to talk about.

Well, he couldn’t do anything about that. The sheriff was a good man, but she’d have to find that out on her own.

It hurt to watch her get out of his car, but he didn’t try to help. He sensed a huge independence in this woman and figured he wouldn’t be wise to offend it any more than he already had. She had clearly not been thrilled to find out the Bureau had requested protection.

When she walked into the front office, he watched heads turn. A woman dressed like this would get attention anywhere in this town, but everything about her suggested that she was federal. Even so, as lovely as she was, she’d draw male attention anywhere.

Elderly Velma, at the dispatcher’s desk, quickly stubbed out her illicit cigarette. A first. Lance could have laughed.

“Agent Sanders for the sheriff,” Lance announced.

“He’s waiting,” Velma answered in her smoke-roughened voice. “Coffee?”

“No, thanks,” Lance said swiftly. Velma’s coffee was legendarily bad. He gestured to the hallway leading to the back offices and let Erin precede him. He could almost feel the air going out of the front office as deputies relaxed.

Interesting effect, he thought as he rapped two knuckles on Gage’s closed door.

“Come,” Gage called.

Gage Dalton, a dark-eyed man with dark hair dashed with gray and a face marred by a burn scar on one side, rose with a wince. As Lance made the introductions, he shook Erin’s hand. “Have a seat, Agent. Thanks for stopping by.”

“I had a choice?” she asked wryly as she eased herself into a wooden chair. Once certain she was settled, Lance sat nearby. “Did Tom bother to tell you why he’s so all-fired worried about me?”

“Actually yes. You got a call just before you were attacked. The guy knows who you are. He may be afraid that you could identify him. Your ASAC said he knows the risk is small, but it’s not one he wants to take.” Then he changed direction, surprising Lance. “A bomb got me, too,” he said, touching the scar on his face.

Erin had survived a bombing? Lance looked at her, shocked. Her face seemed to have frozen.

“I was DEA,” Gage continued. “It was a car bomb. Unfortunately my family was in the vehicle and I had run back into the house to get a diaper bag. I survived, they didn’t.”

Erin paled and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“A long time ago. We can make peace with almost anything, it seems. But I want you to understand why this department isn’t going to take the Bureau’s request lightly. I once ignored an instinct that my family was in danger, to my everlasting sorrow. Your office has a feeling and I’m not going to ignore it. Lance has volunteered for protection duty, and we can get another few on board before the day is out. Good ones. Men with the kind of experience that often took them to undisclosed locations overseas. That protection will continue until you decide to leave. All I ask is that you put up with it. We’ll be as unobtrusive as possible.”

“Isn’t this overkill?” Erin asked after a moment. “No one knows where I am.”

“Supposedly no one knew where I lived either. But the Bureau knows, and apparently someone had loose enough lips to let it be known you were working the case against the bomber.”

She drew an audible breath. “They told you that? They believe it was someone on the inside?”

“Yes. Which gives me cause for concern. How many people at your field office now know where you are?”

Lance felt his gut tighten. He’d never imagined this. Never.

“I’ll leave right away, then,” Erin said immediately.

“If you want, you can. But I suggest you hang around here for at least a few days. Take a breather and know we’ll be watching out for you. Looks to me like you need rest more than anything else right now.”

She looked down at her hands, resting on her lap. “I don’t get why they told you all this.”

“I do,” Gage answered. “They apparently feel that if anyone knows where you are, the wrong person might know. And moving on won’t necessarily help.”

At that she raised her head. “Why not?”

“Because from here there are only a few directions to go. Because your whereabouts have been known to the Bureau since midafternoon yesterday. That’s a long time if someone is hunting you.”

“You’re telling me I drove myself into a kill box.”

Lance drew a sharp breath. When he’d helped Erin, he’d never anticipated the possibility that he could be causing her bigger problems. Nor, apparently, had she.

“Well...” Gage drawled the word slowly. “Truth is, Agent, that there are a whole lot of little bottlenecks in these mountains. Any one of them could have been a bad place to stop if you let someone know where you were. Lance here verified your ID, normal precaution. Then I guess from what he said that you talked to a friend and told her exactly where you are.”

Erin didn’t respond for several long seconds. “In short, I was an idiot.”

“Didn’t say that,” Gage answered. “Sooner or later, your ID would have been checked simply because you’re carrying a concealed weapon. Sooner or later you’d have told a concerned friend where you were. Just a matter of time. Going off the grid isn’t easy for someone with a lot of connections. It would have been easier to slip away if you’d reached Seattle or some other big city, but it happened here, a place the state highway runs through and very little else. You can head east, you can head west out of here. If you have time you could get to a bigger city. We don’t know how much time there is, so we’ll just keep a friendly eye out.”

Erin slowly shook her head, and finally Lance spoke. “Maybe it’s better it happened here.”

She turned those brown eyes on him. “Why?”

“Because strangers stick out around here. Easy for us to keep an eye out for you.”

“And we have a fairly good department,” Gage added. “You could have wound up someplace where they couldn’t have provided the coverage we can.”

Lance felt his heart tug a bit as he watched Erin lower her head. From what little he knew, she’d been through a hell of a lot, and now she’d been sandbagged. But what she finally said surprised him.

“This isn’t fair to you guys. I should just hit the road as fast as I can and disappear again. Besides, he’s a bomber. That type usually hunkers down. Him following me across the country is so unlikely.”

Gage looked at Lance. No doubt, the sheriff was leaving it to him since he’d volunteered to be on this woman’s protection detail.

“No,” he heard himself say. “Maybe he won’t follow you. We can’t know that with any certainty. It’s enough for me that your boss is worried about it. Regardless, you need more rest, and we can make sure you get it. Providing protection is part of what we do.”

“But to a single individual? That’s expensive. Man, I should have just let them lock me in the safe house.”

“We provide as much protection as any individual needs,” Lance replied. “Sometimes that’s a whole lot. As for the safe house...”

“As for the safe house,” Gage said, “apart from going nuts, which I know I would have, I can tell you this. I was undercover DEA. Nobody was supposed to know who I was or where my family lived. We got found anyway. I personally don’t have a whole lot of faith in safe houses.”

Erin looked at the two of them, one after another, and he watched something change in her face. He tensed and waited, expecting to hear her announce she was hitting the road anyway. But then she knocked the wind from him.

“To hell with it,” she said bluntly. “I’m sick of this creep. If he’s crazy enough to follow me, if he wants a showdown at high noon, this is as good a place as any.”

* * *

Outside, she stood on the sidewalk, breathing in the warm summer air, taking in her surroundings. Lance stood beside her but said nothing. He seemed to know when not to say anything—a rare quality.

“That’s the diner?” she asked, gesturing at the sign she saw half a block away.

“Yup. City Diner, aka Maude’s diner. Wanna walk or drive?”

“I need to walk. Otherwise everything tightens up and I’ll never get my strength back.”

One stoplight. The end of the earth. Only two ways out. A kill box. But a charming one. If she had to take a stand, this was indeed as good a place as any. She just hoped there would be no collateral damage.

She stepped into the street when it was clear and began crossing. With every step, some part of her protested but she ignored it. Nor was she unaware that the man beside her measured his pace to her much slower one. No comment, he just did it.

When they reached the diner, pain had caused a little perspiration to break out on her forehead. Not bad. Better than it had been. She just wished there was some way to speed her recovery.

He opened the diner door for her and let her choose where to sit. She preferred booths and headed for one, hoping she could ease into it without too much trouble. With her back to a wall and the street visible through the big plate glass window, she felt safer.

She winced a few times and had to bite back a groan, but she slid into the booth without too much ado. Lance sat across from her.

“Don’t they give you something for that pain?” he asked.

“I’ve got enough prescription painkillers in my suitcase to raise eyebrows. I don’t want to take them.”

He nodded. “Latte?”

“Please.”

So when the Gorgon’s daughter, who looked like a younger clone of Maude, arrived to slap down the menus, he promptly ordered their coffee and asked for a few minutes. Erin barely glanced at her, just long enough to take in the name Mavis. “A whole family,” she whispered.