Conard County Justice (Conard County: The Next Generation Book 42) Page 10

  Apparently no one had wanted to stir that hornet’s nest up any more.

  Unless maybe they had?

  He was still wondering when he reached the truck stop diner.

  * * *

  CAT SAT ON her small front porch. A molded plastic chair cradled her, and she put her feet up on the porch railing. A jacket protected her, holding the cool night air at bay.

  She was thinking about the conversation with Matt. About Duke, who couldn’t wait to leave once Matt was gone. He’d even refused her offer to drive him to the motel.

  The man was upset. Understandably so. Cat wondered if he’d yet felt the full impact of grief, or if he’d been so furious and determined to find Larry’s killer that there’d been no room left in him for sorrow.

  It might be that there was now.

  Despite all her attempts to keep Duke at arm’s length, partly because of her job and partly because she didn’t trust that expression she’d initially seen in his eyes, she had begun to care.

  “Oh, cool,” she whispered. Yeah. Just what she needed: to become personally involved.

  She was personally involved enough with Larry that Gage Dalton hadn’t wanted her on the case. A murder investigation, something she’d done for her previous sheriff, and she was frozen out.

  Maybe not totally. It was time to corner Gage and demand information. She needed to be kept in the loop, not only for herself, but so she could better assist Duke in ways that wouldn’t cause trouble with the legal case they were building.

  How was she to know what to keep him from plowing into if she didn’t know the status?

  If Gage had thought that herding Duke would be easier when she was wearing blinders, he was wrong. What was the chance that she would allow information to escape her? Zilch. She knew how to protect investigations.

  She thought of Duke again, allowing herself a few moments to think about how attractive he was. She was a woman, she had normal impulses, and even in the midst of all this, she wasn’t impervious.

  Then she brushed such thoughts aside. Given the circumstances, Duke couldn’t possibly entertain such thoughts, nor should she.

  Then there was Larry. Whenever she thought of Larry, she pictured him smiling. A big grin, filled with the joy of life. A man who should never have been the target of a killer.

  Maybe she needed to talk to Gage about the fact that she couldn’t read any of Larry’s articles. She’d tried once, searching his name online, but the articles were in the paper’s archives, behind a paywall. It hadn’t seemed worth the money when she’d just been curious.

  But it might not be curiosity now. If Gage authorized it, she could call the paper and say she was investigating Larry’s death. Right now she didn’t have the authority to say any such thing, but it might be important to learn what the man had been doing.

  All she knew about Larry was that he was a friendly, outgoing guy, and that she’d liked him a bunch. He’d been a wide-ranging conversationalist, able to talk about many things comfortably and always eager to learn something he didn’t know. Never afraid of admitting to gaps in his knowledge.

  When she thought about it, she realized he had gotten her to talk more with him than she usually did with anyone. He’d brought her out of her introverted shell easily.

  A great gift for a man who spent his professional life digging information out of people, many of them reluctant to speak.

  Determined to speak with Gage in the morning, she let her thoughts drift more freely.

  That Duke was like a puzzle box. She’d been seriously worried about what he might do when he’d arrived here, and now she was getting more worried about him.

  So far he hadn’t given her any major headaches, but if he felt he was getting nowhere, if he was left to deal with his grief without a resolution, how would he handle it?

  Would Duke feel as if he’d failed his brother in this final, monumental task? Would guilt overwhelm him because this whole ugly mess was worsened by his rift with Larry?

  She didn’t understand how anyone could handle it well. A double heaping. She’d seen other people hit with this double whammy, though. Mothers who’d fought with a kid before the kid disappeared, only to be found dead. That was just one example. She’d seen plenty of others.

  People dealt because they had to, but Duke was a man of action. He’d already shown that he wasn’t prepared to wait for the police to do this job.

  She sighed and rested her head in her hand. All she wanted to do was help. That had been her motivation in becoming a cop. She hated it when she couldn’t.

  * * *

  OUT IN THE COUNTRYSIDE, three men sat in a different gully. Moving was always wise in case someone had sighted them and started to wonder. New digs, no better than the old ones, but at least far enough away.

  The chill didn’t bother them much, and besides, they had the correct clothing. Dark jackets covered them; hoods covered their heads and shadowed their faces from the rising moon. After a brief debate, they’d decided to build a small fire and now were making coffee in a battered tin coffeepot.

  They used water warmed on the fire to soften dried foods enough to eat and swallow. Not the best grub, obviously, but marginally better than rations. Evidently companies catered to hikers and campers who insisted their food be palatable. Sort of.

  Anyway, there was no grousing that night. Just a lot of silence as they tried to think their way through their current conundrum.

  “We could kill Dan Duke,” said Man Three.

  “Oh, for crap’s sake!” growled the second man. “We’re supposed to stay under the radar, and you want to kill the brother of the man we just murdered? You don’t think that would send up a dozen flares?”

  Man One, who hadn’t said much for a while, spoke quietly. The other men sometimes resented the fact that the first man seemed to think he was smarter than they, never mind that he patently was. It was when his tone and pacing grew obviously patient that they resented him most. Right then he was sounding patient.

  “We need to get a charge on that laptop. The cops are still watching Larry Duke’s house.”

  “They’ve been there too long,” groused Man Three.

  “Maybe,” said Man One, growing even more obviously patient, “they’re concerned about ghouls. Especially teenage ghouls. Word must be getting around that the guy was tortured. Or at least that the scene is gruesome.”

  “I wish we were plugged into the local gossip,” said Man Three.

  “Wishes and horses and all that,” said Man Two.

  Man One didn’t disagree. “The real problem here is lack of intelligence. We didn’t expect all these complications, and we sure as hell weren’t prepared for them. But this isn’t some backward country where we can operate freely.”

  “No kidding,” said the second man. “A lot of places we’ve been, I’d just take out the guard, go into the house to charge this freaking laptop and do whatever else I want to. Not here. Kill a cop, and we’re up to our necks. Kill Dan Duke, and we’re in it big-time.”

  The third man spoke. “I know Duke is supposed to be some kind of big deal, but what kind of big deal?”

  The first man answered tautly. “I’d give you his service jacket if I had it. Just know he was being fast-tracked for the top, and not only because he knew the right people. That was the least of it. When the military history books are written, his name will be in them.”

  The third man spoke again. “I take it you don’t mean because he eventually gets a star?”

  “No. His commendations would fill a book. He’s reputed to be a tactical genius. He’s faced everything that we have, and probably more. Some think he should get the Medal of Honor for one mission.”

  The second man blew air through pursed lips. “I hadn’t heard about that.” Then he turned toward the third man. “The point is, we’ve all heard about him. Ev
en you. That should tell you everything you need to know.”

  The first man spoke again. “We’re not talking about just going up against somebody’s brother. If we have to, we will. But I wouldn’t advise it. The man could be capable of taking out all three of us.”

  Another long silence fell. The coffee started perking, and the second man leaned forward to move it to the side of the fire. Twigs and branches crackled as flames danced through them.

  “And we can’t do another break-in?” asked the third man.

  The first man sighed. “We can. But first I want that damn laptop charged. We could conceivably save ourselves a whole lot of trouble.”

  “Except for what Larry Duke said about us never finding the info.”

  “He could have been lying.”

  They all hoped so.

  It was so much clearer on an operation overseas. Here it was all muddied by lines they couldn’t cross.

  Nobody had considered these parameters.

  * * *

  CAT EVENTUALLY ROSE, deciding to go indoors. The evening had been peaceful, few people about, but the chill was beginning to penetrate by way of her hands and denim-covered legs.

  A cup of instant cocoa sounded perfect.

  Inside, she boiled some water in her kettle and pulled cream out of the fridge. She always liked a bit of cream in the instant cocoa. It tasted richer.

  When the kettle began to whistle, she poured the hot water into a mug over the mix. An easy, relaxed evening would continue.

  A twinge of guilt hit her as she remembered the exercise she was forgoing, an hour or so in her basement with weights and her bicycle. It was okay to skip a couple of nights, and it wasn’t as if she needed to work out any tension.

  Then her thoughts returned to Duke. Sitting at her kitchen table, she wondered about him running along the roads of this county, dealing with his demons, missing his brother. Should he even be out there alone?

  Remembering his palpable anger when he had arrived in town, she wondered if he should be alone with that, either.

  Damn, that man wouldn’t stay out of her head. She told herself he had to be her priority right now, but she suspected that was an excuse. Despite his initial anger, he’d steadily drawn her in. She cared about the hell he was dealing with, about how he was handling it.

  Well, when she got additional information tomorrow at the office, she might have more she could safely share with Duke. One thing she didn’t want him to know was that their initial assessment was that Larry had been tortured. God, she didn’t want to be the person who had to tell Duke that.

  Forgetting her relaxing evening, she put her forehead in her hand and stared down into her cup of cocoa. What happened to Larry had been awful, just awful, even without all the details. She couldn’t imagine how much more awful it would be for Duke to know.

  Finally she sipped her cocoa again, then thought about tossing it, because it had grown cool already.

  The rap at her door startled her. The digital clock on her microwave said it was just before ten. An emergency? Heck, this town practically rolled up the streets by nine, if not earlier.

  Concerned, she hurried to answer the door. When she opened it, she was astonished to see Duke. The breeze had picked up, and even though he stood a few feet away, she could smell soap and shampoo.

  “Come in,” she said, quickly stepping back.

  “It’s late...”

  “You’re here for a reason. Come in.”

  He passed her, heading straight for the kitchen. She followed him, then asked, “What is it about you and kitchen tables?”

  He shrugged. “In our family, this is where we always held conversations. Larry and I kept it up even sitting at tables when we went to a bar.”

  That made sense. She faced him at the table, pushing her mug aside. “What can I do for you?”

  “I just had a question. When I saw your lights were on, I thought it might not be too late to knock.”

  “It wasn’t. Another half hour might have been different.”

  He half smiled, reminding her of how attractive he was when he wasn’t on the edge of fury. Something had changed since he’d talked to Matt.

  “I’m beginning to realize I’m probably on a futile quest,” he said after a minute or two.

  Surprisingly, her heart squeezed. Not what she wanted to hear, despite all her initial objections. The fact was, she was now looking at a man who wasn’t accustomed to being stymied. How much harder for him than the average person. Nor did she have any reply to reassure him.

  He continued. “I was reacting to Larry’s death. I needed to do something. My usual reaction to crisis. Useless under these circumstances.”

  “I understand it,” she admitted.

  “Still, there’s reality, and I’ve been avoiding thinking about it. There are so many situations I’ve encountered where I’ve been able to do something. But to act, you need to know the parameters of the situation. You need intel. I don’t know why I thought I could wring more out of people he knew here than you and the other cops could.”

  He shook his head. “But I was sitting there, talking with Matt, and it struck me that the folks Larry played poker with know the cops around here better than they know me. The idea that they’d say something to me that they wouldn’t say to you all...well, I must have been out of my mind.”

  “Grief and shock will do that.”

  “Yeah. I should know that. I’m sure you do, too.”

  Cat shrugged one shoulder a little bit, then waited. She was convinced he hadn’t come here to dump some uncomfortable feelings. She judged him to be a man who was largely buttoned up.

  He seemed lost in thought, his gaze distant, and she wondered what had been so urgent that he’d come to see her this late. Maybe being alone was difficult for him right now? She began to think about offering him the single bed in her home office.

  He suddenly zeroed in on her. “The reason I came over.”

  “Yes?” She couldn’t help tensing.

  “Is there any way I can get more information, about what you know? About that second robbery that Matt mentioned?”

  She nodded. “I was planning to talk to the sheriff in the morning and ask. Whatever I can share, I’ll tell you.”

  “Thanks.” He looked down at his hands.

  There was more; she could feel it. Then it struck her she hadn’t offered him the most basic of courtesies. Dang, her mother would be disappointed in her. “Want something to drink? Obviously I’ve got beer, because you bought it earlier. Or instant hot chocolate. Or coffee, if you’re one of those people who can drink it right before bed.”

  He made a snort that sounded like an almost laugh. “I learned to drink coffee round the clock. Strange how it doesn’t seem to interfere with my sleep even when I’d like it to.”

  She had to smile. “So what’ll it be?”

  “A beer, please. Or I can get it. I’ve been here often enough to know the way to your refrigerator. Strange, I can see it right from here.”

  She laughed. “Okay, help yourself.”

  “What about you?”

  “No, thanks. I prefer my head to be clear. My usual limit is one drink.”

  He rose and got his beer, returning to his seat as he twisted it open. No bottle opener for this guy.

  “So that’s what you wanted to know? If I can find out something else about Larry’s case?”

  “Not quite.” He tipped the bottle back and drank before he spoke again. “What Matt said about fear. I sensed you noticed.”

  “Yeah, I did.” No point in denying it.

  “That would put a whole new spin on this. What’s the point of looking for the killer around here if he might have been in and out? Sent by someone who had a grudge against Larry because of his reporting or was afraid of what he might write.”

&
nbsp; “I agree. So tomorrow I’m going to see if I can use my badge to get past his paper’s paywall and read Larry’s articles.”

  “Hell, I can get you past the paywall. Let me get out my credit card.”

  “You can’t wait?”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant you don’t have to use your badge or the department’s resources. That’s all. I was going to try to get into his archives anyway. I’d like to have copies of all those articles and exposés.”

  “I’m sure. Now I would, too. But I need to do it in official capacity. What if there’s some kind of evidence in there? That article you two fought over? Do you think it could be that?”

  “I don’t know. I need more to go on. But it’s possible. It’s also possible he was working on something else and that story was over two years ago. On the other hand...”

  She waited, then prompted, “Yes?”

  “On the other hand, who knows how long that trail was? I told you about the guys who were charged as a result of that story, but who knows what information they might be willing to trade?”

  She sorted through that. “But if some guy agreed to offer information in exchange for a lighter sentence, there’d be nothing for anyone to protect now.”

  “Maybe not. Or maybe someone is afraid of what else Larry might have known. But again, it could be any of his stories, or even a new one.”

  She thought about it. “But if he keeps everything secret, no one would know what he might be working on now.”

  “Not exactly. The people who gave him information might know. And maybe one of them got nervous and told someone else. Maybe we focused too much on his secrecy.”

  She became totally alert as he offered another new perspective. Maybe... But how to use this?

  “We still have a lot of questions,” she said. “And if we do find out something, how are we going to locate his sources? I’m sure Larry must have protected them.” Even facing the difficulty of the task, her excitement continued to mount.

  Duke answered. “Oh yeah. Protected better than classified information is my impression. I don’t know if his editors even knew who most of his sources were. Never discussed that with him.”