Breach of Honor

by Janice Cantore

  Leah felt as if her heart would beat out of her chest. He leaned toward her, and she reciprocated, closing the distance between them.

  There was knock at the door and the moment was shattered. Leah jumped and the pup woke up.

  She pulled her hand from Clint’s. “Busy here today,” she said as she stood.

  “You’re not expecting anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Before you open the door.” He stood, blocking her exit, and opened the case. Leah tore her eyes away from him and looked inside. There wasn’t a gun, just a small computer storage drive.

  Clint held it up, expression thoughtful. “What do we have here?”

  “That doesn’t look familiar.”

  He handed it to her, and she put it in her pocket. The visitor knocked again.

  As Leah made her way to the door, Clint trailing after her, she could see it was Becky Blanchard.

  Leah opened the door. “Hi, Becky.” The pup bounded toward the door and Leah scooped him up just before he connected with Becky’s legs.

  Becky smiled and stepped in as if to give Leah a hug, then stopped when she saw the pup. Then her eyes lit on Clint.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you had company. I, uh, I missed your coming home party and just wanted to welcome you home. I even got a babysitter.”

  “Thanks.” Leah shifted the wiggling dog under her arm and indicated Clint. “Have you met Clint Tanner?”

  “Not in person, but I know he’s the hero cop. Two years later my husband is still talking about your intervention at that convenience store.” She smiled brightly and shook Clint’s hand, frowning at the cast. Leah thought she saw Becky stare at the case, which he had tucked under his arm. “I had no idea that you two were friends.”

  Something about that statement hit an off chord with Leah, but she wasn’t sure why. “Come in, Becky.”

  “I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

  “Coffee or tea with friends, nothing to interrupt.”

  She stepped inside, and Leah followed her gaze. Becky was still looking right at the gun case.

  “Grady has a case just like that,” she said. “I thought you couldn’t have your guns back, Leah.”

  Clint held the case up. “It’s empty. We were discussing what a case like this could hold.”

  “A valuable gun, I bet,” Becky said. Something about her demeanor bothered Leah. “Interesting the kind of discussions you have.” She sniffled and almost sneezed. “Oh, I’m having an allergic reaction to that dog. It was nice to see you, Leah, and to meet you, Clint. But I have to run before I start sneezing all over the place.” She flashed a big smile. “We have to get together for lunch, like old times.” Becky turned and was gone.

  Clint pushed the door closed and looked at Leah, eyebrows raised. “Was it something I said?”

  “That was just odd.”

  CHAPTER 53

  Clint considered Becky’s hasty departure. It reminded him of Jack’s suspicions about Grady Blanchard. His wife is the driving force in that relationship. “Grady is a different person when she’s not around, a better person. Funny and lighthearted.”

  He wished he knew Grady better and had better insight into Becky. She’d bolted like a scalded cat. He thought he knew why, but it wasn’t making much sense.

  “How well do you know her?” he asked Leah. His full attention returned to her as warmth and attraction flooded his being. Being this close, hearing her heart had held him completely captive until the knock on the door.

  “I’m tempted to say pretty well, but I might be wrong,” Leah said. “She was really the only friend Brad approved of. She came to visit me in prison a couple of times. She went out of her way to do that.”

  “Hmm.” Clint could acknowledge that was true. But he couldn’t let this alone. “She recognized the gun case.”

  “What?” Leah stared at him.

  He held the case up. “She’s seen this before. Maybe this belonged to Grady or Duke.” He could see skepticism in Leah’s face.

  “That’s a leap. I still think it’s Larry’s. I want to know what’s on the thumb drive.” She made a move to get a computer, he guessed.

  “Wait.” He put a hand on her arm. “I don’t think you should plug that into your computer.”

  “Why not?”

  “Call me paranoid, but maybe there’s a virus on there, and if you don’t have the password, all the information gets erased. I can’t see anyone locking it away in a gun case unless the contents were valuable. We should get it to a computer expert we trust.”

  “Meaning you don’t want it to go to the PD.”

  “I hate to say it, but no.”

  “What about Falcon?”

  Her brown eyes were warm, sharp, and focused, and he was sure he could get lost in them.

  “The FBI.” Clint rubbed his chin. “That might be a good idea. They would certainly have the resources.” Inside he found himself wondering if even the FBI could be trusted. But the reality was, they had to trust someone.

  Just then his phone rang. He checked the number. “It’s Jenna. Let me see what she has.”

  Leah nodded and turned away.

  Clint answered, “What’s up?”

  “Where are you?”

  “With Leah at her house. Is something wrong?”

  “Brad Draper’s uncle, the one who works for the state police, has been suspended.”

  “What?” Clint faced Leah. “You have to hear this; I’m putting it on speaker.”

  They both listened.

  “Turn on the news. State cops are having a press conference. They formally reopened the investigation into Prosecutor Birch’s suicide. They found evidence that Brad’s uncle, the handling officer, was negligent and may have falsified his report. They no longer believe Birch’s death was a suicide. It’s murder.”

  Leah felt shock reverberating all around as she turned on the TV by reflex. She’d met Brad’s uncle. He seemed the only agreeable and grounded Draper in the family.

  Clint finished his conversation with Jenna and stood next to Leah as they watched the last part of the press conference. The state cops didn’t spell out all of their evidence, but it was obvious they’d decided that the jury tampering investigation going on from Leah’s first trial was related to Prosecutor Birch’s death.

  “Was Birch a Hangman?” Clint asked.

  “I don’t know. He was a good friend of Harden’s.” She crossed her arms. “It was good of Jenna to call.”

  “She’s been working hard on this case for months.” He smiled. “She’s almost as determined as you.”

  “You two are close.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve known her a long time. We met at a training class years ago. She’s sharp as a tack and a great investigator.”

  Leah nodded. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s just that, well . . . after corresponding with you for two years, I’ve come to know you, and I like what I know. But if you and Jenna—”

  “Stop.” Clint stepped forward and looped his right arm around Leah’s waist, gently pulling her close. With the fingers on his casted arm, he held her hand.

  Her other arm went naturally to his shoulder and her head tilted back as she looked up into his eyes. They seemed to smolder with emotion.

  “Leah, there is no ‘me and Jenna.’ I told you in my letters that I had a crush on you in college. I did. I do. You are the only woman in my heart and my mind right now.”

  “Oh” was all Leah could manage as Clint’s grip tightened and he leaned closer.

  “I’ve wanted to be this close to you for such a long time,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to hers.

  Leah relaxed and leaned into the kiss, amazed at the warmth and fire in his embrace, feeling as if the entire ugly world disappeared and there was only her and Clint in amazing bliss.

  CHAPTER 54

  After Clint left, Leah found herself humming one of her father’s show tune
s and walking on air. They were in sync, each feeling the same way about the other. Yes, she thought, the future does look good, job or no job.

  They’d agreed to turn the drive over to the FBI, and Clint was on his way to deliver it to Agent Falcon. Leah had wanted to go with him, but the next stop for Clint was his own house. He’d admitted to her that he’d overdone it just a little bit and needed rest. And he said he’d call her when he got there.

  While she waited for the call, Leah fidgeted. The pleasant warmth she felt from the kiss faded slowly. To keep busy, she decided to finish with her belongings. She’d sorted everything already; now she needed to organize and put away. As she worked, she wondered what the ramifications would be now that Brad’s uncle was in the spotlight. Harden would not be happy—that was for sure. She shivered at the thought of Birch’s death possibly being a murder. She’d liked Birch years ago—or at least she knew Brad had liked him.

  She was bending over a box when a thought flashed in her mind and she stood up abruptly. Cutting through the clouds of pleasant emotions regarding Clint, Leah realized how serious this was if the city prosecutor had been murdered because of her case. Was he killed to keep investigators in the dark about what had gone on in the first trial? Did the Hangmen kill him? Two different people had tried to kill her in prison; was that also the work of the Hangmen?

  All of a sudden being isolated at her father’s place didn’t seem like such a good idea. Richard Chambers had snuck up on her easy enough.

  So Leah did something she hadn’t wanted to do because it would be a violation of the protective order. She went into the garage to her father’s gun safe. She unlocked it and removed a 9mm handgun. She then loaded two clips, put one in the gun, racked a round in the chamber, and took the items to her room.

  Protective order or not, Leah would be prepared the next time someone surprised her on her father’s property.

  It was nearly dark by the time Leah finished organizing. Tomorrow she’d tackle the storage unit. She turned on lights and checked the time. Her father should be home by now. She picked up her phone and thought about calling him.

  “Am I being paranoid?” she asked Buster.

  He didn’t answer, simply wagged his tail and shuffled his feet. Leah realized it was time to feed him. She picked up his bowl and filled it with puppy chow. Just then her father’s headlights swept by the front window and she sighed with relief. When he walked inside whistling a tune she recognized from West Side Story, Leah chuckled.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hi, sweet pea.” He came to where she stood and kissed her cheek. “How’s your day been?” he asked.

  Thinking of Clint, Leah grinned. “Best day since my release.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He filled up a glass with water. “I heard about Dave Draper on the radio. It surprised me, but maybe it shouldn’t. The whole Draper family is corrupt.”

  “Yeah, and because of that I took a gun from your gun safe. I want to keep it in my room.”

  “Fine with me. You know how to use it.”

  She walked back into the living room in time to see a vehicle pull into the driveway. It was a white BMW. Not a common car in the valley. Leah tensed, wondering if she should retrieve the gun. Her jaw dropped on the floor when she saw Ivy Draper in the driver’s seat. What on earth was up?

  CHAPTER 55

  As Clint left Leah’s house and headed back to Table Rock, he felt giddy, a looseness in his brain, almost like the day he’d gotten the concussion. Finally telling Leah how he felt had lifted a huge weight from his heart—and finding out she felt the same way caused all the indecision and uncertainly to disappear. It was a game changer—Leah cared for him too.

  Daylight was fading, but to Clint, everything was bright. Every so often a grin split his face. He’d dated women before, but never had the depth of emotion affected him like what he felt toward Leah. She was the one and he prayed for a way forward, for all of this controversy and unsettledness to be resolved. Hopefully the drive he had in his pocket would do that. It was a leap, true, but there was a reason it’d been hidden away in a locked gun case.

  Falcon had been skeptical at first, but after Leah explained everything, he agreed that the FBI techs would be best suited to look into what was on the drive. Clint still didn’t believe Falcon was on his side, but he did believe the agent was on Leah’s.

  It was just getting dark enough for headlights, and when the vehicle behind him turned its on, Clint did a double take in the rearview mirror. The truck was awfully close. How long had it been behind him? He’d turned off the highway a couple of miles ago to take back roads into Table Rock and now wished he had paid closer attention to the vehicles around him. He couldn’t make out the face behind the wheel and realized if it was a tail, the driver wasn’t taking any pains to hide it. Clint recognized what a poor choice he’d made turning off the highway.

  He sped up and the truck behind him did likewise. Clint slowed, waving the truck around him, but the truck stayed where it was.

  Why would someone follow me into Table Rock? Clint wondered. This two-lane highway was straight and flat. There was no way to push him off the side like they did on Foothill—then he realized that in about two miles, if they did try that same tack, he’d end up in the icy Rogue River. Was that the plan?

  Chewing on his lower lip and thankful for hands-free, Clint called Agent Falcon just as the truck behind hit him with high beams. He told the agent what was going on.

  “Where are you?” Falcon asked.

  “About six miles out, closing in on Duster’s Creek bridge.”

  Just then Clint saw the truck swerve left as if it was going to go around, but Clint tensed. He recognized the move. The guy was going to try to smack the left side of the bumper in a PIT maneuver and cause Clint to spin out of control.

  If that happened, there was no way he’d be able to control his truck without two good hands.

  “Tanner, what’s going on?”

  Clint couldn’t answer. He sped up and abruptly jerked his truck to the right, off the road, smashing through a fence and barely keeping control of the vehicle as the follow truck screeched to a stop. Apologizing in his mind to the farmer whose fence he’d obliterated, Clint shifted into four-wheel drive and took off across the field as fast as he dared. Thankfully the ground was mostly level and there was no dust. Provided there were no impassable gullies, he could make it back to the roadway past Duster’s Creek bridge. It was a short two miles into town by then and he’d avoid the PIT.

  In his rearview mirror, he could see that the truck behind him had taken a minute to turn around and follow the surprise path Clint had taken.

  “You still there, Falcon?” Clint asked, grimacing as the bouncy path he was driving took its toll. Every bump and bruise screamed at him. There was silence from the phone and Clint didn’t try to get him back. He concentrated on controlling his vehicle and staying ahead of the truck on his tail.

  He thought of Leah, wondering if she was in danger. Torn between calling her and needing to concentrate on the road ahead, Clint prayed that this was all about him and she was fine.

  Leah opened the front door and stepped onto the porch as Ivy got out of her car.

  “Ivy, what brings you out here?”

  Ivy jumped. She looked as far from comfortable as a person could. She stopped about five feet from the porch and stared at Leah. Finally she said, “I’ve come to you for help.”

  Leah let the surprise show. “How can I help you?”

  “I know you have a storage drive that my father wants.”

  Nonplussed, Leah frowned. “And if I do?”

  “My father plans to kill you and Clint Tanner to get that drive back.”

  Shocked now, Leah held her hands out, palms up. “You’re telling me this because . . . ?”

  “I know you have no reason to trust me. Becky was just here, at your house, wasn’t she?”

  Leah nodded.

  “She saw the gun case they’v
e been looking for and came over to my parents’ to tell my father about it. I overheard the conversation. Brad hid the storage drive in the case a long time ago. It was his insurance policy.”

  “Insurance for what?”

  “Brad stored stuff on the drive that gave him leverage. My dad has dangerous business partners. Brad controlled them. When you killed him, my father lost control. He wants it back. Becky claims to want to help him, but I don’t believe a thing she says. I think Brad has things on the drive about her.”

  Leah had to think. “You know how crazy this sounds?”

  “Any crazier than the Hangmen controlling law enforcement in Table Rock? Any crazier than you going to prison for killing a man who I’m sure was trying to kill you?”

  Leah stared at Ivy.

  “Brad tried to kill Melody. Why do you think she left?” Tears fell from Ivy’s eyes. “Melody was always going against him. She resented that my father favored Brad over both of us. She was Brad’s thorn in the side. He beat her half to death and my father said nothing. I never had her courage. I never talked back. But I can’t stand by and watch them kill Grady. They plan to get the drive back, then kill you and Tanner and frame Grady for it. I heard it all.”

  Leah felt as if the ground shifted beneath her. Fear threatened to split her in two. “I—”

  The ring of her phone interrupted a response. It was Falcon. She held her hand up to stop Ivy from saying more. “I have to take this.”

  “Radcliff, where is Clint Tanner?” Falcon was abrupt.

  “What? He should be with you. He left here—” she looked at the time on her phone—“probably twenty minutes ago.” Leah’s hand felt numb. Ivy just watched.

  “He called me, said someone was following him; then the call dropped.”

  “Did he say where he was?”

  “Coming up on Duster’s Creek bridge. I see that on the map. It’s a back road, farmland and such—”

  “I know the area.” Leah tried to think, tried to beat back the panic. “Did you call him back?”