Undercover in Conard County Page 16

* * *

  By the time the sheriff’s deputies and forensic team arrived, Desi had returned to her normal, calm demeanor. The tension had left her face. Kel rather admired her for that. It wasn’t as if she saw a murder scene every single day.

  He watched her talking to the sheriff, Gage Dalton, and that deputy he’d met, Sarah Ironheart, and some other older man who with long dark hair streaked with gray. Other deputies set up a ring of yellow tape, and once he’d pointed out the probable sight line, they blocked that off as well.

  The light was beginning to change as the afternoon deepened, and it wasn’t long before generator-powered spotlights arrived. And just after them a K9 Unit appeared, a caramel-colored Belgian Malinois with straight-up ears and an eager, intelligent face. The deputy who held his leash looked almost as eager as his dog.

  Kel half smiled. He somehow suspected this man and his dog didn’t see a whole lot of official activity locally. Hours spent training couldn’t make up for that.

  Then the sheriff approached him. One look at Gage Dalton said the man had been to hell and back, confirmed both by his limp and the burn that scarred the side of his face.

  “So you’re the new outfitter I’ve been hearing about,” Dalton said without preamble.

  “Must be,” Kel answered amiably. “Say, can you step away from here for a moment?”

  Dalton tilted his head a bit. “Sure.” He jerked his head back toward the road, and kept walking until the stream of arriving deputies and forensics people trailed off. Then he stopped and faced Kel. “Well?”

  “I’m not going to flash my credentials in case somebody happens by, but I’m actually with the Wildlife Investigative Unit. I’m posing as an outfitter hoping to get some leads on a ring of unlicensed outfitters.”

  Gage studied him for a minute. “Desi knows.”

  “Of course she knows. Until you, she’s the only one I told.”

  Gage looked past him into the woods. “There’s been an increase in poaching. I know it’s been bothering the hell out of Desi. Then that sheep on Jake Madison’s land. Jake was hopping mad, thinks somebody used dogs to chase it down.”

  “Yeah, she told me.”

  Gage’s dark gaze returned to him. “And this guy who got shot saw men riding with a pack of dogs.”

  “Yeah.”

  Gage nodded slowly. “On a personal level, I’ve never been interested in hunting. I get that other people need the food or whatever. But I have to say, somehow I’ve always had the impression that hunting should be sporting. The animal should at least have a chance.”

  “That’s what most of the regulations are designed to do.”

  “Two years ago,” Gage went on, “there were some dogs menacing antelope. There are a lot of ranch dogs around here. Most do what they’re supposed to, but sometimes some of them get a notion to chase game.”

  “I’ve heard of it.”

  “Desi and her wardens, with a little help from us, managed to round up the dogs. The ones we traced, the owners got fined. But all of the dogs...put down.”

  “That’s the law.”

  “I know. What I was getting to was how much that bothered Desi. Law or no law, I think she felt like we ought to be putting down the owners rather than their dogs.”

  That drew a short laugh from Kel.

  “Yeah,” said Gage, smiling crookedly. “She cares deeply about animals. I’m not so sure she feels that way about some people. Good quality in a warden, I guess. She’s great at what she does.” He veered the topic sharply. “What do you need from me and my deputies?”

  “Eyes and ears. Desi’s too busy doing her job, I can’t be everywhere and I’m damn sure I’m not hearing everything because I’m an outsider.”

  “I can guarantee that. No problem. My deputies are excellent eyes and ears when they know what they should be listening for. A ring of illegal outfitters, huh? I heard of one guy a couple of years back who didn’t get caught until someone actually checked on his license. Amazing. He apparently made a tidy sum, though.”

  “They do. There are a lot of people willing to pay small fortunes to bring home a trophy. People who make assumptions they don’t question, don’t bother to find out whether the outfit is licensed...well, I don’t need to tell you.”

  Again that crooked smile from Gage. “Trust me, you don’t. I got a pretty good idea of what people are capable of from the years I was an undercover agent with the DEA. Which sometimes makes me a bit like Desi.”

  Kel arched a brow.

  Gage laughed. “I’m sometimes more inclined to like animals. But most people around here are good folks. Not perfect, but good. That’s why I stayed. Well, that and my wife. Anyway, I’ll let you know if we pick up on anything.”

  He turned to go back to the crime scene then paused. “A pack of dogs, huh?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “I don’t like that at all. We don’t need you here anymore unless you want to stay. I’ll try to shoo Desi along, too. I realize she’s law enforcement, too, but what we need to be doing now...no reason she should hang around. Honestly, I don’t like the way she looks.”

  Neither did Kel. Honestly. That calm, professional exterior had returned, yet right now he felt as if it were a facade. She got furious about an animal being poached, but she got sickened by attempted murder. Her moral compass was just fine.

  His? Maybe.

  * * *

  To Kel’s relief, Desi was finally persuaded to leave Jos on the scene and depart with Kel.

  “It’s my scene,” Jos argued.

  Desi studied him. He was, after all, a young man who couldn’t have many years of experience. Kel awaited her judgment, hoping she’d give Jos the approval he seemed to want. That she’d tell him she trusted him to take over for her.

  “Sure, Jos,” she said. “I appreciate it. You’ve done great today. But if you have any...repercussions from what you had to deal with earlier, don’t be afraid to tell me. Some things really affect us.”

  Jos nodded. “I can handle it. I need to handle it.”

  Probably so, Kel thought as he and Desi climbed into her truck. Jos had done well dealing with the wounded man, and now he needed to do something, anything, to help catch the shooter. Some imperatives couldn’t be ignored for the sake of the soul.

  Desi remained silent throughout the trip back to the station. He left her undisturbed, wondering if she’d be able to find out if Don had survived his wounding. He supposed she would, as an investigating officer.

  He’d also had plenty of time to think about the event, so he wasn’t exactly surprised when Desi parked her truck in front of the station and said, “The shooter thought Don might have recognized him.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.”

  “No other reason for it. This is going to heighten the scrutiny around here, which doesn’t serve these guys at all. So...”

  She pulled her keys from the ignition, threw open the door and climbed out. “Let’s go upstairs. I’m starving.”

  “Want me to run into town and grab something?”

  “Only if you want to. I’m sure I can do something with eggs and some bacon.”

  He could cheerfully eat breakfast at any hour of the day or night, so he slid out, waited for her to lock up, then followed her up the stairs.

  While she paused to dump her gear and get more comfortable, he started a pot of coffee. Only then did he remove his vest, jacket and weapon. Desi stood in the middle of the living room, clearly lost in thought, so he let her be. He pulled out the eggs, hunted up the bacon in the lower drawer.

  She spoke, clearly with half her attention. “If you want, there are some thin sandwich steaks in the freezer. They’d probably thaw quickly.”

  “Okay.” He pulled those out, too, then went out to stand near h
er. “Desi? Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. Her voice sounded taut, stretched. She was holding it all in. All of it. His hands clenched and unclenched as he wondered what boundaries he dared to cross with her. This was taking a toll on her and he urgently wanted to find some way to comfort her.

  What had started as a straightforward assignment seemed to be growing into a huge mess, and part of his concern now was Desi. She was no longer just the warden he was supposed to hook up with. With each passing hour he cared more about what all this might be doing to her. Yeah, he hated the poaching, but he’d never guessed that it might upset Desi even more. Or that murder would stalk the forest and mountains. Now she mattered as much as what he’d been sent here to do. Maybe more. And he was worried for her.

  Feeling like a lug who might be doing everything wrong, he slipped one arm around her shoulders as he had earlier in the woods. She’d appreciated it then. Maybe she wouldn’t despise it now.

  Almost the instant he touched her, she turned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. A little astonished, but relieved, he hugged her with both arms and simply waited.

  She felt so good leaning into him, warm and soft in all the right places. His body responded even as his mind rebelled. Wrong time. Absolutely the wrong time.

  Closing his eyes, he held her and tried to step down on natural desires that sometimes had no place. Right now was one of those times.

  He knew little enough about Desi, but he suspected this was the first time she’d seen a man maliciously shot. He didn’t have to try very hard to remember the emotional and psychological transition he’d had to make when it all became real for him in the Rangers. An internal earthquake.

  While it wasn’t battle today, it had been bad enough in its own right. Peaceful woods had been shattered by horror that shouldn’t happen here in this safe place. What you expected on a battlefield wasn’t what you expected to happen in your own backyard to people who were simply hunting.

  Now Desi wasn’t just worried about the hapless game animals, she was probably worried about other hunters and her own wardens. How could she not be?

  “What’s happening, Kel?” she asked quietly. “What the hell is going on? How much money is a man’s life worth?”

  He cleared his throat. “Never having put a price tag on one myself, I couldn’t tell you.”

  “I can see it in self-defense, but this wasn’t. Not even if he thought Don could recognize him. He could have come up with some excuse for what they were doing with the dogs. Anyway, he had no reason to think Don or Thor would tell anyone about it. So why try to kill them?”

  She rubbed her face against his shoulder as if to wipe it clean of memory. The gesture tightened his chest. “Hell,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Some people are truly twisted, Desi. Maybe we don’t run into them often, or when we do we don’t recognize them. Psychopaths or whatever they’re called now. Charming, smart, seemingly nice, and utterly without conscience.”

  “Like Joe,” she whispered.

  Joe? Then he made the connection. “Maybe, I don’t know. Did he ever express regret or apologize?”

  “Never. What he did was brag about his conquest.”

  He swore silently. People like Joe didn’t deserve to breathe free air. “Well, there are people out there who don’t care about anyone or anything except themselves and what they want. So yeah, a guy like that wouldn’t have any compunction about shooting someone. But these types are usually smarter than that. Did they think these hunters’ bones would never be found? I don’t know. Surely an alarm would have been raised. Someone would miss them. Their truck was on the road, right? How long would it take for the forest to scatter their remains beyond hope?”

  “Probably not long,” she answered. “Not long at all. Wolves, bears, coyotes... Three days? Maybe four?”

  “So whoever did this must have figured these guys were on a long hunting trip. It’s a weekday. Maybe nobody would expect them back before Sunday. Or maybe later. Anyway, I’m sure the sheriff will look into that. Regardless, it wouldn’t take long for enough to disappear that nobody could be sure what happened to them.”

  “Maybe not,” she admitted. Her voice had grown softer, quieter.

  “That’s why we bury our dead, Desi.” He closed his eyes, remembering Afghanistan, how quickly the carrion-eaters would start to circle in the air above. How quickly scavengers would arrive to grab what they could. Nature cleaned up the dead.

  All of a sudden, he felt Desi stir against him, moving back. Immediately he let go of her, feeling an emptiness in his arms.

  “Today had to be hard on you, too,” she remarked. “I’m sure you’ve seen worse, but I saw how you helped Thor find himself. Here I am trying to take it in, and you’re probably dealing with some pretty bad memories.”

  “I’m okay,” he assured her. For now anyway. He’d felt a couple of tugs out there in the woods, a couple of times when he felt he could have slipped his moorings, but he was getting better at controlling it. Helping Thor Edvaldson had probably helped him has much as it had helped Thor.

  “Yeah,” she said, then went to the kitchen.

  Withdrawn, he thought, worry tightening his chest all over again. She was pulling somewhere inside. He knew all about that. He also knew it could work only for so long. Had she learned how to do it after her rape? Maybe.

  Cussing silently, he watched her start cracking eggs into a bowl, watched her turn on the big pan on the stove and lay bacon strips in it. He ought to help, but he could sense the bubble she had put around herself. A line of protection from everything, a place where she could remain cool and nothing could touch her.

  Except she’d already been touched. As mad as she’d been about the bighorn, this reaction didn’t seem right. Something in her was on overload but he wasn’t sure what, if anything, he could do, or even if he should.

  “I’m gonna cook those steaks and eggs in the bacon grease, if that’s all right,” she said without looking at him.

  “Can’t imagine what bacon grease could ruin.”

  Her head nodded, but didn’t turn toward him.

  “First thing I wanted every time I came home,” he continued, “was a mess of bacon. A hamburger was second, but first I wanted my fill of bacon. You should have seen the look on a waiter’s face when I’d sit down in some diner and tell them to just keep the bacon and coffee coming.”

  “They probably don’t hear that every day.”

  “When I was still married,” he said, dredging the words from some place deep inside, “my wife wouldn’t cook that much of it and wouldn’t let me. Unhealthy. Well, I didn’t give a damn. I’d just walked through war and come out the other side. Like I was going to worry about a heart attack twenty years down the road.”

  That caused her head to turn a bit. “Fatalistic?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “Scrambled or fried?”

  “However you want.” He waited, hoping she hadn’t dived right back into her bubble. “I stopped being afraid of dying. I was more worried about the dog.”

  “Dog?” She half turned then, giving him a sidelong glance.

  “Yeah. Lots of stray mutts out there. They are generally despised and roundly mistreated. It’s a hard life for almost everyone there. People living close to starvation, just barely eking out a life...well, it’s a brutal way to live for too many. So I guess rescuing a stray dog must have seemed...well, maybe thoughtless. Why feed a useless animal when people were hungry? Especially one that’s considered unclean. Anyway, I worried about the animal. I was afraid someone would torture it or beat it while we were out on patrol.”

  “You had to leave it behind?”

  “Let me put it this way. When you’re creeping over terrain maintaining complete silence, c
amouflaged...do you really want a dog giving you away by prancing around or barking?”

  “I guess not.” She moved the bacon a bit in the pan.

  “Anyway, we must have seemed mad to the locals, but we couldn’t resist. Cammi did as much for our welfare as we did for his. Interestingly, after a few months, the locals started to change their attitudes. So maybe we did something for the general welfare of Afghanistan’s mutts. At least in that locale.”

  “I thought people everywhere found dogs useful. I thought that’s why they got domesticated in the first place.”

  “They’re also scavengers,” he answered quietly. “It’s kind of a vicious circle. If they’re not fed, they’ll find something to eat. What they find is sometimes repulsive.”

  He watched her grow very still, then she nodded. “I can see that.”

  “We were talking about what would happen to human remains up there in the woods today. Well, that can become a religious problem for some people.”

  “I get it,” she said, almost sharply.

  He bet she did.

  “What happened to Cammi?”

  “One of the guys has been trying to find a way to get him back here. Latest word is that he might be brought here in a couple of months. There are organizations that will help now. It wasn’t always that way.”

  “No, I heard about that. Violation of general orders or something to keep a pet. Shoot on sight.”

  “Pretty much.”

  She turned then, looking at him from haunted eyes. “And we think humans are so superior.”

  “I wonder often,” he admitted. “What can I do to help with dinner?” Time to shift to safer ground. He shouldn’t have brought up the dog, but she’d asked if he was afraid of dying. Not anymore. He’d left that in the dust a long time ago. But that damn dog? Yeah, that was different. He could close his eyes and remember it curling up beside him on his pallet, or licking his hand or face until he pulled out of some dark well he’d sunk into after a buddy was wounded or killed.

  His need to protect his buddies had extended to Cammi before long. He had become part of their unit.