Conard County Justice

“Understood.”

Oh really? she wondered.

“Let me make something clear, Deputy. I’m a military officer. I follow rules all the time, some of them quite restrictive. My own judgment generally comes into play only in combat and tactical operations where the situation is constantly shifting. I have to stay within the Uniform Code of Military Justice. On the other hand, when my superior tells me something like Go take that hill, I have to figure out how. There’s a lot in the balance, not the least the safety of my soldiers.”

“Okay,” she answered, willing to listen.

“There’s not really a conflict here.”

Time would tell, she thought. At least now she could taste her salad. “How do you want to set this up?”

Which was giving him a lot of leeway. Still, she wanted to know how he envisioned what they were going to do together, then decide how much of it was possible. She could still try to be the rein on him. Try probably being the operative word.

He glanced away, ruminating as he finished his sandwich. “I want to get to know people who knew Larry. Try to figure out if they know anything or sensed anything. Sometimes people find it easier to talk to a grieving relative than a cop. Or am I wrong?” His gaze snapped back to her.

“I’ve been a cop since I started dealing with cases like this. I can’t say for certain. One thing I do know is that friends and family try to avoid saying anything disparaging about the deceased.” She almost winced as the word came out, knowing that it sounded cold. He was probably far from wanting to call his brother deceased.

“Never speak ill of the dead,” he remarked. “Thing is, Larry wasn’t perfect. Nobody is. Do I think it was impossible for him to have an enemy? Absolutely not. His job often made people furious at him. He could just as well have affected others around him the same way. I know he wasn’t here long, but it doesn’t always take long to make someone hate you. An ill-considered comment can be enough.”

“Larry used words like a master.”

“Exactly. And he could slice like a knife in very few words when he saw or heard something he didn’t like. Anyway, people might find it easier to talk with me because I know Larry wasn’t perfect. I hope.”

That was a good point. Maybe. She ate another forkful of salad, getting a mouthful of delightful blue cheese, along with meat rolls. The knot in her stomach was easing, and her taste buds were evidently waking up.

He just wanted to speak to people who’d known his brother? Sounded innocuous enough. But there were other possibilities looming in the shadows. She stared down at her salad, suspecting that she’d let her tension leave too soon.

DANIEL DUKE STUDIED the woman with whom he’d been partnered. She clearly didn’t like it any more than he did. He was a man used to going on missions and making his own decisions within the confines of what was legal. Things were different in a war, of course, but he knew where the bright lines were, and he kept himself within them.

He didn’t like the idea of someone peering over his shoulder and trying to control him. She had been chosen to be his watchdog. He was already chafing at the idea. He could move more freely on his own.

The Ranger in him, he supposed. There had been a few times when he’d air-dropped into enemy territory with nothing to rely on but himself. He had always accomplished his mission.

He’d also seen enough of the expressions crossing Cat Jansen’s face to guess that she didn’t like this, either.

He’d managed to set her back up. In the long run, that wouldn’t matter. He’d come here for two purposes only: to bury his brother and to find a killer. If the sheriff’s people succeeded, he’d be content, although it wouldn’t be as satisfying. But this wasn’t about satisfying himself.

He glanced toward Cat as he finished his sandwich. It seemed she was eating without a whole lot of pleasure. Uncomfortable situation.

But he noticed again the arresting combination of black hair and brilliant blue eyes, a combination that would make anyone look twice. It had been the first thing he had noticed about her when he walked through the door of the office. And while uniforms seldom enhanced a woman’s attractions, he still felt hers from across the table. When she moved, he could tell that she was fit, maybe even athletic.

But he wasn’t here to notice a woman’s beauty or anything else. They needed to forge a working relationship somehow, although he’d have been satisfied to tell her to continue her other duties and he’d keep her informed.

She didn’t strike him as the type who was going to give him a leash that long.

Oh hell, he thought and reached for a potato wedge. He’d begun all wrong, but he didn’t know how he could have begun better. He was furious beyond words over his brother’s murder. He wanted the killer to face trial at the very least, and when he returned to his battalion, he wanted to know the guy was in jail. Caught. Going up the river as fast as possible.

Only when justice lay within reach would he be able to properly grieve for Larry. Because justice had indeed been important to Larry, something he’d been willing to risk his neck over. Then there was Duke’s own guilt. He’d never be able to overcome that now, but he could deal with finding justice. Finding peace for Larry.

He spoke at last, trying to discover a way to meet this woman somewhere in the middle. Neither of them was happy to be here.

“Larry always used to say that the dead can’t rest without justice.”

Her head lifted from her salad, and he felt again the impact of her eyes. “You said he believed in it.”

“The thing is, my brother was a realist, hardheaded and fact oriented. Then he’d say something like that. It was one of the things that drove his reporting.”

“While I only knew him a short time, I didn’t see anything remotely fanciful in him.” She paused. “So you think Larry won’t rest?”

“I don’t know what comes after we die. It’s all a mystery, and I tend to rely on facts, too. But since I don’t know, I want Larry to get his justice. And frankly, I want justice, too.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

She sounded as if she did. Well, maybe that was a step in the right direction. He certainly needed to find one, since he’d started wrong, at least as far as Cat was concerned.

Parsing through the problem, trying to come up with a strategy, he slowly ate potato wedges and gave Cat space to enjoy her salad while he looked out the window. Spring sunshine drenched the street, and all the buildings appeared to have arisen early in the last century. He suspected renovations in this town tried to preserve the past, not erase it.

Maybe she needed to understand that he hadn’t had to come to the police. He’d done so because he didn’t want to get in a war with the cops here. That could mess everything up. And while he’d tried to make that clear, he wasn’t sure he had.

There was Cat’s reaction. He had to figure out how to persuade her before this became a bigger problem.

NEARLY TWENTY MILES AWAY, in a fold in the earth that cradled them in secrecy, three men sat around a small fire. The stream that trickled beside them, clearly runoff from the remaining snow high above in the mountains, made a pleasant sound as the afternoon began to wane.

It was far nicer than many of the places where they’d made a surreptitious camp. They all dressed casually, like campers or hikers, in jeans and long-sleeved shirts of varying plaids. Hiking boots finished off the unimpressive ensembles.

“You getting anywhere?” asked Man One.

“I hate these new phones,” Man Two remarked. He held a smartphone in his hand. “The only contacts I can find are in recent text messages. The rest must be in the cloud somewhere, and we can’t even get cell coverage here.”

“What’s a cloud?” Man Three asked. “And how can you be sure those aren’t his only contacts?”

“Oh hell,” said the first man. “He was a reporter. He probably had hundreds of contacts.”

“No help to us,” said the third man. “Hundreds of contacts? How do we weed through that?”

“We look at only the ones around here,” said Man Two. “But I need his cloud access, and he’s got it protected. When he said he’d put a copy in a place we’d never find, he might have meant that. And breaking into the house of one of his poker buddies last night turned up zilch.”

“Clouds aren’t that safe,” the first man said. “Remember when that motion picture company got hacked? He probably wanted a copy he could reach that would be safe. Maybe an external hard drive or flash drive.”

“Or,” said the second man, “he might have kept notebooks and files. You know, old-fashioned paper. I dated a reporter a few years ago. She always kept her notes on paper. In those reporter notebooks, for one, and she had drawers full of files.”

The first man looked at him. “Any reason?”

“She said it was the best way to protect her sources. She said that too many people could get into her computer.”

If a breeze hadn’t been wending its way down the narrow gully, ruffling grasses and the just-grown leaves of spring, they might have heard a pin drop.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” the third man demanded. “We didn’t know to look for that kind of stuff last night.”

The second man shrugged. “Who thinks of paper files these days? I sure as hell don’t. That just popped up from memory.”

Their search had just gotten bigger.

“We can’t break into that house again,” said the second man.

“Nope,” agreed the first man. “We may have screwed that up. But I’m still not sure about his poker buddies and other friends here. Did he know any of them well enough to turn over serious information to them? We don’t know.”

“There’s no way to find out,” said the second man. “Maybe the most important thing we can do is find out where he stashed the information.”

“There’s another team working on his contacts back in Baltimore,” the first man reminded him. “Maybe they’ll find out.”

“I hope so,” said Man Three. “Because I sure as hell don’t want to go back without finding something.”

The three exchanged looks.

“Why,” asked the second man, “do I feel like we’re Curly, Larry and Moe?”

“Because,” said the first man, “we weren’t given decent intel. We have to do that as well as find the stuff.”

They all fell silent again. Each of them was thinking of events in Afghanistan.

Then Man Three stirred. “Hey, One? Did you know Larry Duke?”

“Why?”

“Because when you were…interrogating him, I got the feeling you did.”

“Never met him,” came the clipped response from the first man.

The other two exchanged glances. Neither was quite sure they believed it. They knew they’d come for the money. What if Man One had a different agenda?

Chapter Two

Daniel Duke made his way to the town’s only motel, the La-Z-Rest. It didn’t take him long to recognize the place had probably been here since long before he was born, but it was clean. Compared to a lot of places he’d slept, he wouldn’t have complained regardless.

He doffed his uniform, putting it into a garment bag and hanging it in the closet. The shirt went into a laundry bag the motel provided. He’d chosen to wear the uniform for his arrival because it acted like a credential all on its own. Now he shed it so he wouldn’t stand out.

Then he pulled on regular clothes, jeans and a chambray shirt, pretty much what he wore at home. Blending in with the locals was something he’d needed to do at times during his career, and sometimes that blending had required clothes he wasn’t used to wearing. This was easy by comparison.

He felt he’d gotten a reasonable first concession from the sheriff. He hadn’t expected to take part in the official case, but he hadn’t wanted to be totally hampered, either. He might have a minder in Cat, and yet as annoyed as she was with the situation—he couldn’t blame her for that—she’d shown signs of coming down off her high horse.

Looking back over their initial meeting, in retrospect he saw that he had probably come across as critical of her department. He was a naturally blunt man because he needed things to be clear when managing his own troops. On the other hand, he knew how to play political games when required. Until recently he’d been on an accelerated path up the command ladder, probably destined for a star on his shoulder one day.

Not anymore.

The simmering anger over that tried to surge, but he battled it down. There was one thing and one thing only he wanted to focus on right now—finding Larry’s killer.

All right, he’d been impolitic. He needed to find a way to correct that so he and Cat Jansen could jolt along. He’d walked in and talked to her like one of his troops, making it perfectly clear what he expected, both of her office and of himself.

He’d looked down instead of up. The sheriff was like his superior officer in these circumstances. That meant Cat was, too.

Ah, hell. Talk about getting off on the wrong foot.

Her face swam before his eyes, and he felt the whisper of attraction once again. She was pretty, all right, with delicate features and those amazing blue eyes.

He brushed that feeling aside, too. Wrong time. Worse, he suspected Cat would be furious if she suspected she’d aroused his interest for that reason.

Judging by the few things Gage had indicated about her during their conversation, Cat must be very competent as a law officer, and that was how she’d want to be evaluated. The only way. She hadn’t worked hard to get here only to be treated like she was a woman first.

He’d seen enough of that problem since women had started completing the arduous Ranger training. They were surrounded by a sea of men, all too many of whom believed the Rangers were a man-only territory. Considering what those women could have done to any guy who got out of line, that had always struck Duke as a stupid attitude to have.

Those women were Rangers first. Cat was a law officer first.

That settled, he paced the motel room. He was a man used to being physically active, to training every day for the next assignment. He’d spent too much time bottled inside a plane and then a car. He needed to work out some kinks.

He did some push-ups, some crunches, some squats. They weren’t enough. What he needed was a ten-mile run. Some of it uphill.

He’d brought workout clothes with him, but they’d been used primarily on station. Not the kind of thing to wear around here if he wanted a low profile.

Damn. He’d seen what looked like a department store on the other side of town on the main drag. He decided to walk there to stretch his legs and get some new clothes. It would give him some time to get the lay of the land.

He always wanted to know where he was, if there were any obstructions to escape, what the shortest routes were between points. Recon. Basic, simple recon. It would be a good use of his time, if not all his energy.

He’d feel more comfortable, too. This might not be a very dangerous place, but that wouldn’t change the habits of most of his adult life.

WHEN CAT RETURNED to the office, hoping Gage might put her on the burglary case, the sheriff called her back to his office.

“Door?” she asked, resigned to an inquisition.

“Please.”

For the second time that day, she closed it, then sat across the desk from him. “And the winner is…”

Gage flashed one of his crooked smiles. “How’d it go?”

“I suppose you mean with Major Duke.”

He shook his head a bit. “So, are you being difficult?”

“I suppose I am. I don’t know if you saw it, but the man who came through that door earlier had death in his eye. Cold. Furious. And more than capable of carrying out any threat.”

Gage sighed, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his desk. His chair squeaked, and she guessed from his faint grimace that some part of him was objecting to the simple movement.

“He’s a Ranger,” Gage said. “And from what I know of them, which admittedly isn’t a whole lot, he’s been to war more than once, he’s gone undercover in enemy territory and he might even have gone on a few solo missions. You don’t get to be a major at his age unless you’re being fast-tracked, and you need that kind of experience to rise in the officers’ ranks if you’re in special ops.”

“All of which is to say you saw the look, too.”

“It didn’t surprise me. Add to that the fact he’d probably love to get his hands around the throat of the guy who killed his brother, and you’ve got a man who’s exercising some serious restraint. Yeah, he’s a pressure cooker right now.”

“How comforting,” she said dryly.

“Anyway, I don’t expect you to be able to stop him if he gets set on something. I just want to know what he’s doing. It may sound like babysitting, but it’s not. You know the stakes.”

Cat did indeed. She’d tried to make them clear to Duke herself, and she’d heard enough of what Gage had said to know he had as well.

“I guess he set my back up,” she admitted.

“Can’t imagine why.” A bit of sarcasm crept into his voice. “Just keep in mind that he’s a military officer. He’s used to commanding and to taking charge. Neither of which we can have him safely doing, but as long as he knows you’re watching, he’ll control himself.”

“He said he’s used to staying within the lines.”

“Another thing he’s had to do to achieve his rank. Do I think he will? Most likely, unless fury overtakes him. No guarantees about that. Cat, I can’t emphasize enough that he’s been to war. Basically left civilization behind. Some of that always stays with you.”

“I know.” Springing to memory were a number of vets she’d had to deal with when they lost themselves in depression, alcohol and drugs, or when memory or ungovernable rage had taken over. War inflicted indelible scars. “Okay, I’ll keep all that in mind. But I guess it tells me why the military have their own special bases.”

Gage cracked a laugh. “Caged up, you mean?”

Cat finally relaxed enough to laugh, too. “That was unkind. Okay, I’ll do the best I can, but I make no promises. I was thinking earlier that this is going to be like riding a bull.”

“You ever done that?” Gage asked as she stood up.

“Hell, no. Do I look crazy?”

His laugh followed her as she walked down the hall.

Guy Redwing had assumed her position at the front desk. He looked bored. “Need a little excitement?” she asked him.

“Depends on what kind.” He grinned. “I’m starting to think about a beer at Mahoney’s after work. Come with?”

She’d have liked to go with him, but before the words slipped out, she remembered she had a task with no punch-out time. And just then she saw Major Duke striding purposefully down the street. Hadn’t he gone to the motel?

Wondering what he was up to, she said, “Sorry, Guy. Much as I’d like to, I just saw my current assignment walking down the street. Later.”

She darted out the door and saw Major Duke looking across the street at Freitag’s Mercantile. She quickened her pace, wanting to catch up. He must have heard her footfalls, because he turned swiftly. The speed of a striking cobra. Okay, this man was wired.

When he saw her, he relaxed and waited, so she adopted a more reasonable pace. She didn’t want any passersby to think she was chasing the man. Even if she was.

She nodded and smiled at the greetings from other residents who appeared to be on errands. One woman in particular was trying to wrangle twin boys, who were just of an age to slip her grip and make her look harried.

“Hi, Joan,” she said as she passed.

“Hi, Cat. Boys!” She dashed off after them.

Cat was grinning by the time she reached Duke. “That’s a handful.”

“Those boys? Plenty of energy.”

Then she faced him. “Looking for something?”

“Workout clothes that aren’t stamped with Army logos all over. This is the place, right?”

She nodded. “Old-timey, with creaky wooden floors that have probably been there for at least a century. However, now that we have an influx of students at the community college, you’ll find all the latest and greatest in some items. You want superhero shorts? I think they have some.”

He surprised her with a short chuckle. “I don’t think I’m ready to go that far. So are you my armed escort now?”

To her horror, she felt her cheeks heat. How had he done that? It had been a long time since she’d blushed. “I’m kinda over-the-top, huh?”

“No, you’re in uniform, is all. Are you planning to join me in the store? Or later after I change and go for a run around town? You might find it hard in that utility belt.”

Her cheeks grew even warmer. “Point taken.”

He shook his head slightly. “How were you supposed to know what I was doing? This is going to be impossible for both of us if you have to be the principal and me the student reporting my every activity. Tell you what. I’ll let you know if I’m doing anything that approaches the case. Then you can relax and I can go running.”

Her cheeks didn’t cool any, but she was just trying to do this job. An unfamiliar job. New rules and groundwork were needed. On the other hand, he was lengthening his leash and asking her to trust him. Having known his brother, she was inclined to, but the simple fact was that Major Duke was a stranger to her. Plus, she’d seen the icy fury in his eyes. He wasn’t going to make this easy for either of them.

“I understand your point, Major.”

“Duke. Just call me Duke.”

“Okay, Duke. You can call me Cat. But you were walking down the street a few hours after having expressed your intention to interview people who knew Larry while he was here.” As she mentally reviewed what he’d said when she’d first reached him, she started to get seriously irritated. How dare he talk to her that way? He’d scolded her as if she were a thoughtless kid.

He nodded slowly, glanced across the street and said, “Give me your cell number. I promise to tell you before I talk to anyone, okay?”

“Or anything else to do with your brother’s murder.”

“On my honor.”

She relaxed a bit. She suspected honor was very important to this man. “All right. I’ll trust you. But if I find you’ve crossed the line, you’re going to be in trouble. I won’t stand for it, nor will the sheriff.”

“We’ll get it sorted. Your number?”

“I want yours, too.”

“Of course.”

“Keep in mind, though, the farther you get out of town, the spottier cell reception will be. Out there in the ranch land, there aren’t a whole lot of cell towers. Not enough people to justify them. And the mountains are pretty much the same.”

“I’ve operated in much tougher conditions.”

Yeah, he had, she thought as she walked back to the office after they’d exchanged numbers. That was part of what worried her.

CAT WAS A FIREBRAND, Duke thought as he crossed to the mercantile. He had no doubt she’d try to call him to heel if she didn’t like something. He’d only promised to let her know what he was up to, but she’d have to give him reasons if he objected.

While he was looking at shorts, a memory of Larry popped up. They’d often run together while they were growing up, but when Duke had returned from Ranger training, Larry had wanted to run with him again. The two of them had wound up laughing because Larry could no longer keep up the distances or the pace Duke used. He’d never forgotten his brother’s grin as he asked, “What did they do? Replace you with bionics?”