I reached over and dug in the pocket. “Micah? I called about an escort in for Sarah tonight, but someone just took a shot at me. I’m okay. I don’t think she ought to come in at all.”
“Hold on, Win. Let me talk to her.”
“Win! You’re sure you’re okay?” Sarah asked.
“He missed. Maybe wanted to scare me. I’m fine. I’ll be home soon.”
“Stay there. We’re coming in—Caleb wants to find the shooter’s position, see if we can’t find a casing or footprints so we can make casts.”
“That’ll work, as long as you have an armed ride-along. Mrs. Barrett saw the shooter.”
“Damn.” I could hear her take a breath. “Vermont’s looking better and better to me.”
That’s when I got really pissed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sarah
I felt like I’d been hit in the stomach with a baseball bat when Dad told me Win had been shot at. “‘At’ is the operative word, Sarah Anne,” he’d said before he handed me his phone.
Dad, Leslie, Caleb and I hightailed it for Bloomington. En route I called their police department and briefed them on the incident.
The black-and-white landscape passed in a blur of gray as we sped northwest on mostly clear roads. Caleb was using siren and lights and we made it in record time. He slid to a stop in front of Win’s apartment building and I dashed to unlock the door. I dropped the keys thanks to my shaking hands.
Win opened the door, I walked into her arms and hugged her as hard as I could. My relief at seeing her almost buckled my knees. I hung on to her until she loosened my arms. When I saw her cheek, I reached for it but Win intercepted my hand.
“I’m okay, really. Just a bit of debris. Stay cool, Sarah.” She took me by the hand to Mrs. Barrett’s apartment.
“Lovely entrance, Sarah,” Mrs. Barrett said. “Siren and flashing lights. It’ll give the neighbors something to talk about for weeks.” She handed Win her things. “Good as new. Mostly just slush and salt, but I sewed up a small rip on the parka. If you can find it, I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Thank you, Mrs. B. I won’t even look.”
A male voice’s “um” behind us made us turn around. Caleb’s big frame filled the doorway. “Ma’am, if you could point out where the shooter was standing…”
“Why don’t you sit where you were when it happened,” Win said. “You can guide Caleb from there.” She dialed a number and handed her phone to the older woman.
Mrs. Barrett motioned him over and she pointed to two trees down the block. He nodded and headed out with Micah and Leslie, who stood waiting on the sidewalk.
She watched. “This thing on?”
Win nodded. “Just tell them when they’re there. They’ll take it from there.”
Mrs. Barrett watched for a few more moments, then said, “Got it.” She handed the phone back to Win.
We all watched as the three circled the trees at a distance, Leslie taking photographs, some with a ruler, others of the general scene. Caleb found something, lifted it with gloved hands to put in an evidence bag.
“Looks like they got the brass,” Win said.
“You know where the slug landed?” I asked.
“They’ll find it. It’s going to be pretty deformed.”
“You know, if your deputy would stand by the tree when they’re done, I can tell how tall the guy with the rifle was,” Mrs. Barrett said.
“You get that?” Win asked. We waited until the scene was documented. Then Caleb stood beside the shooter’s tree. I shivered, even though I knew it was my chief deputy.
“About two inches taller,” Mrs. Barrett said. “The man with the gun came almost level with that first branch.”
Win thanked him and we watched as they started looking for the slug. They found it across the street. We thanked Mrs. Barrett and walked to the lobby.
“I’ve been thinking about this. We shouldn’t change our plans,” Win said. “We go dancing tonight.”
“Oh, Win, no!”
“Listen to me, Sarah. Number one. I refuse to put our lives on hold or be controlled by those half-wits.” Win turned to me. “Two. I was really looking forward to being on the dance floor with you. Have our own after-party. Somewhere not in McCrumb County.”
I started to protest, then considered the intensity on Win’s face. This whole messy business was taking a toll on both of us, no matter how hard we struggled to stay on an even keel. “Okay. If we leave early in the morning, we can see if anyone’s tailing us. I’ll have deputies standing by.”
“In the meantime, can we leave the investigation to your team?” Win asked.
* * *
Win’s hands around my waist, her body pressed close to mine and the slow beat of the music combined to send my libido into overdrive. I moved my hands from her shoulders to the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss that continued to the end of the song.
“I’m getting the impression you want to go home,” Win said with a grin.
“Um. I’d hate to be arrested for public lewd and lascivious behavior.” I took her hand and led her to our table. “It’s a good thing we’re not driving all the way back home tonight.”
Win shook her head. “Wild woman. Call your dad and tell him we’re getting ready to leave.”
With Dad and Caleb waiting at a diner next door I felt a little like a teenager being chaperoned. The plan was that they’d follow us to the apartment, check into a motel and follow us home in the morning. It was weird to have Dad babysitting me, but both he and Caleb had refused to budge.
I called and Dad’s only comment was, “Makin’ it an early night?”
“Only for dancing. Meet you at the door.” I was blushing as we made our way out of Ruby’s.
“See anything?” Win asked when we met up with them.
Caleb shook his head. “Walked the neighborhood about fifteen minutes ago. All quiet on the western front.”
I raised an eyebrow. Caleb must be hanging around Dad too much and was picking up his literary habits.
They hustled us into Dad’s truck, refusing to let me drive my own truck. Win sat on my lap in the middle of the cab. As unobtrusively as possible, I got my hands under her parka and around to her front. She made a noise deep in her throat and both men quickly looked out their windows. Dad gunned the truck forward.
When we got inside the apartment, Win pinned me against the door. “Don’t ever do that to me in front of your dad. Or Caleb. I was mortified.”
I shrugged and grinned. “I was just getting my hands warm.”
“Your hands were already warm.” She unzipped my parka and slipped it off. Put her hands under my sweater and kissed me with all the passion that had been building on the dance floor.
“Whew.” My heart was beating faster and I felt myself melt into her arms. I took her parka off, we both slipped out of our boots and padded over to the overstuffed chair Win used for reading.
She pulled me down on her lap. “Before we get too involved to think, we should talk about this business. We’ve got to get ahead of these guys. We can’t live like this. At least, I can’t. My PTSD isn’t back—yet. But without Emily available, I feel very vulnerable.”
I examined her face. In the sharp light of the reading lamp she looked tired and thinner. “How do we do that, Win? Get ahead of them?”
“Set a fucking trap.” She pulled me to her. “We can talk about it on the way home in the morning. I don’t mean to ruin the mood ’cause I’m feeling romantic too.”
“Romantic?”
She kissed me and moved her hands under my sweater. “Downright on fire for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Win
“Joshua Leatherby served two tours in the army in the nineties,” Nathan said, looking up from his notes to the officers gathered around the conference table. “I don’t think he liked taking orders. His service record is full of citations for insubordination. He was given a general discharge, came
back here and had a series of low-paying jobs. Same problem, he didn’t like taking orders. Two and a half years ago, he was hired as a shift supervisor at Zelcore.”
“Who the hell did he know to get a cushy job like that with no experience in manufacturing?” Caleb asked.
“I ran all their employees and I couldn’t find a connection,” Nathan replied.
“Dad, you know anybody who works there?” Sarah asked.
Micah shook his head. “Only retired guys.”
“I do,” Caleb said. “A couple of them coach in the same baseball league I do.”
“Make up a story,” I said, leaning forward. “Maybe a bar fight and somebody thought the guy was Leatherby. You’re just trying to get a feel for the guy, not haul him down to the station on such a thin ID.”
Caleb nodded. “Sounds good, Win. I’ll go real light.”
“Anything else, Nathan?”
“Nothing from phone or computer records. We put a GPS tracker on his car—legally thanks to Bill. Nothing interesting so far—except he wasn’t your shooter yesterday. His car was at work. He checked out.”
Sarah sighed. “I was really hoping…”
“So was I,” I said, looking around the table. “As far as we know, Leatherby isn’t in electronic communication with whomever’s behind him. So how do they talk?”
“Carrier pigeon?” Micah asked.
“Maybe.” I grinned at him. “Who could he contact on a regular basis without raising any questions?”
“Pastor? Shrink?” Sarah guessed.
“Ain’t got paperboys no more,” Dad said.
“Bar or restaurant?” John piped in. “Or how about a co-worker or boss?”
“That’s the problem nowadays,” Micah said, leaning back in his chair. “Nobody much talks face-to-face. Used to be, you could stop an’ chew the fat with ’bout anyone. Like mail carriers. Which brings me to the thought—wonder if Leatherby has a post office box.”
“Can we check that?” I asked Sarah.
She nodded. “But realize, folks, he may not be using his real name. We’ll have to get a warrant—”
“Why don’t you let me talk to Millie down at the post office? Since she’s postmistress an’ all,” Micah asked. “Unofficial-like. If it don’t work, then you can get all the paperwork you need.”
Sarah looked at me. I liked the “unofficial-like” so nodded.
I’d been taking notes and a couple of thoughts occurred to me. “Caleb, when you talk to the Zelcore people, could you find out if Leatherby hangs out with any particular co-workers?”
Caleb nodded.
“Nathan, would you get together with John? Cross-check the rolls of militias with the Zelcore employees? Maybe dig deeper on the militias since you have the warrant to do it. Especially the McCrumb County Rangers.”
“What are you going to do?” Sarah asked.
“My own little project.” I couldn’t help but grin. “We need someone to infiltrate the Rangers, if they prove out. I’ve talked to Bill. We’re going to get someone in place now.”
* * *
When everyone but Sarah had left the conference room, I took her in my arms and pulled her close. She came willingly.
“Thanks for handing me the boss job,” I said.
“It wasn’t hard,” she said, her head on my shoulder. “I know the county, but I’m not used to running an intelligence op like this and coordinating the higher-ups. This is getting serious.”
“Will you tell your people thanks? For being so easy to work with, for being so good at what they do.”
“I think they’d say the same to you, Win.” She snuggled deeper. “It’s nice to just stand here, in your arms, not caring if someone walks in.” She looked up at me. “I don’t regret coming out.”
“That’s what could be behind this,” I said, stroking her hair. “Laura’s lesbian. Don’t forget the Brownes.”
“Nor will I forget they didn’t go after Laura directly, but people who were supporting her. For me, that’s you,” Sarah said, frowning.
“Plus Micah, Nathan and all of your deputies.” At her panicked look, I lifted her face to me and kissed her. “All of us, standing around you, ready to protect you.”
“At what cost, Win?”
“That’s why I want to get one step ahead.” I kissed her again. “Got a meeting with Bill’s candidate.”
“Where?”
“Bill’s house. Out on Gilbert Road.”
“Can I come with?”
I shook my head. “Stay here and attend to your paperwork. Monitor your minions.”
She groaned.
“I’ll be back to pick you up. As soon as I can.”
* * *
I drove up to the brick house. Didn’t see another car or truck. The front door opened and Bill yelled, “Park in the garage, Win.”
I pulled into the garage and closed the doors after me. Bill, out of uniform and in jeans and a flannel shirt held the back screen door open for me.
“We’re skulking again, aren’t we?” I asked as I followed him into the living room.
“Yeah, and with good reason. These militias are a fucking pain. Bunch of civilians running around like they’re special ops troops.” He motioned me to a chair and sat in one opposite. “He’ll be here shortly. Good man. Hope you approve.”
“Your call. At this point, I’m grateful for any help you can provide.” I told him what we’d found out so far. “Not much, but something.”
“We’ll see if we can’t add to it,” he said. He crossed his legs to telegraph a new topic. “How’re you and Sarah doing? Any fights yet?”
“We had our first fight before we were married. We’ve had a few since.” I shrugged. “But we always make up. Talk it out.”
“I’ll bet Sarah’s a handful.” He suddenly reddened. “I didn’t mean it that way. No offense meant.”
“None taken. She is a handful in every way imaginable. I’ve met my match.”
He smiled. “Still in love?”
I nodded, unable to speak for a moment, overwhelmed by emotion.
“I’m really glad for the both of you. I worried you’d never settle down.”
I heard a truck pull into the driveway. Bill got up, looked out the window. “He’s here.”
He walked to the door, opened it to a powerfully built man who was stamping the snow off his boots. He looked up.
“Nolan? Is it really you?” I stood up on shaky legs. He was one of the men medivaced from the village where Azar died. He held open his arms and I rushed into them. “Man, I’m so glad to see you.”
“Yeah?” he asked with a shy smile. “I kept waiting for you to show up at the hospital.”
“I went a little crazy.” Understatement. “I went AWOL, didn’t leave the village until it was rebuilt. When I finally left, you were already out of the hospital. Maybe on another mission? Or did they give you leave?”
“Leave. Just across the Ohio in Paducah.” He hugged me hard. “I’m glad you’re okay and I’m real sorry about Azar. She was a good woman.”
I blinked away old tears. “Thanks, McBride.”
“You look fat and sassy—you find somebody here?”
“Fat?”
“Okay, just sassy.”
I held up my left hand. “Married somebody here. Well, we got married in Vermont.”
“Who?”
“Sarah, the sheriff of McCrumb County.”
“Oh god—the woman at the center of all of this. Guess we gotta get this one right.” He hugged me again, hard and quick.
“Hate to break up this reunion,” Bill said, settling back into his chair. “But we need to go over our plans.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sarah
I was almost through the stack of paperwork when Caleb tapped on the doorframe. “You think about taking two days a week?”
“Yep—even I voted for two days off. Have you got a schedule worked out?”
“Played around with it, but
I was waiting for a ‘go’ from you.”
“Go.”
“You want Monday and Tuesday? Or the weekend?” he asked.
“You take the weekend—your kids have games, don’t they?”
“Yeah.” A big smile lit his face. “I’ll get it on your desk this afternoon.”
“Anything about Leatherby?”
“A little,” he said as he sat across from me. “I ran into one of my buddies who works at Zelcore grocery shopping last night. I’m trying to take it easy, not call them and try to pump them over the phone. Bob said Leatherby doesn’t hang with anyone, though maybe after work he does. He’s got no idea how ‘the jerk’ got the job. I have a feeling we’re going to be hearing more of that. He’s not liked because he’s a bully.”
“Keep digging but don’t push it.”
Dad walked in without knocking and with a big smile on his face. “Millie sure is the nicest lady.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“She’s married, Sarah Anne, so wipe that smirk off your face.” He laid a piece of paper on the desk. “A PO box under the name James McNab. Collects the mail once a week on Monday around noontime. Gets a letter once a week. No bills. Millie thought that was peculiar.”
“So is Leatherby using the name McNab?”
“Ain’t proven,” Dad said. “But it’s peculiar. Think we should keep an eye on it.”
“Did Millie remember a return address on this once-a-week letter?”
“Nope.” He rocked on his heels with a big smile. “But next one comes in, she will commit it to memory.”
“Can she do that?” Caleb asked. “Legally, I mean?”
“Ain’t against the law to remember somethin’. An’ a conversation with a friend?” He shrugged.
“Be careful, Dad.”
“You think the United States Postal Service is gonna come after me ’cause I talk to the postmistress of a small town? Pah! They got more pressin’ issues to deal with.”
“Like delivering mail,” Caleb said.
I threw up my hands. No county laws were being broken. Federal? Hell, I was just a county sheriff.
Speak in Winter Code Page 9