“I guess we should eat, but can’t we talk about what happened while we eat?” I started dishing up the lamb stew.
Win started to put together the salad. “Not much to tell. I picked them up close to the McCrumb County border. Don’t think they followed me from Bloomington. They had one headlight misaligned. I would’ve noticed it if they’d been behind me the whole way.” She grinned. “Now they’ve got no headlights.”
I carried the bowls to the table and went back for the Italian bread. “So, what happened?”
“As soon as I picked them up, I called dispatch. Then I called you. Either we hit the section of the road they’d planned or they thought I was on the phone too much. They hit the back of my truck. You heard the rest.”
“I heard brakes screeching and a collision—what did you do?”
“You ever had an evasive driving course?” Win asked.
I shook my head. “Just the pursuit classes.”
“We’ll sign you up for the next one.”
“Who’s ‘they’ and where’s it offered?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Win said with a grin. She got serious again. “I don’t know if this is related to you or the bullies I’ve been looking for in Bloomington.”
“The LGBT center? They followed you? Who are these guys?”
“I’ll call the center in the morning. Have them send the surveillance stream. See if anybody was hanging around when I left. See if either of the two creeps from tonight were there.” Win broke off a piece of bread and sopped up the remainder of the stew. “We can see if they match our three brigands.”
“You don’t know?”
“I really didn’t get a good look at them. Their faces were still in the airbags. Then the deputy took over.” She looked up at me. “Couldn’t you make me a reserve deputy or something? I have a carry permit. I’ve never felt so impotent in my life.”
“You’d have to know all the statutes and procedures.”
“You’ll give me the test?”
I smiled at her. “Which test?”
* * *
Win was still in the shower when our escort showed up in the morning. Even though Des’s tail was wagging, I followed the deputy’s exit from the squad car before I put the Glock back in its holster and opened the door to a very sleepy Leslie who accepted my offer of coffee with exaltation.
“I gather it was a good night,” I said as I handed her a mug.
Leslie blushed bright red. Nodded.
“Are you okay to drive?”
Leslie nodded again.
“You came here directly from Deborah’s?”
Still not looking at me, she nodded and took a gulp of hot coffee.
It was interesting for me to see such a self-possessed young woman so discombobulated. Must’ve been one hell of a night.
Win entered the kitchen in a partially open robe, saw Leslie and quickly pulled it to her. “Uh, morning, Leslie. I’ll grab coffee. Go change.”
As Win rapidly retreated down the hall, I switched my gaze from her lovely backside to Leslie. Leslie was watching Win. I sighed and sipped my coffee.
“She’s stunning,” Leslie said. “Not that you aren’t—but I get to watch you at work.”
It was my turn to blush. “I didn’t know we had that kind of relationship, Leslie.”
“Oh, we don’t. It’s appreciation. Like looking at a great painting.” She ducked her head again. “Shit, you understand what I mean, don’t you?”
“I’ve never thought of myself as a painting.”
“Oh, man, I’m just digging myself in deeper, aren’t I?” She leaned against the counter. “It’s not just your body I like to watch, it’s the way you handle yourself—issue orders, solve problems. Stuff like that.”
“I’m glad I’m not just a sexual object to you.” Since she was still looking into her mug, I didn’t disguise my smile. I didn’t think it was possible, but she reddened further.
Win walked in fully dressed. “I suggest we go directly to Nathan’s. He’s pulling all the threads together. But he asked we hold off until ten. I think he had a late night.”
“Okay, I’ll tell dispatch. Leslie, go to bed—first door on the right. Try and get some sleep or you’ll be a zombie today.”
She finished her coffee and headed toward our bedroom. “On top of the comforter, Leslie,” I said as she hesitated at the door. She saluted and went inside.
Win took my belt and pulled me to her. “What’s going on?”
“She was appreciating you, specifically your body, and I gave her a hard time.”
Win smiled. “Nice to know there’s still something to appreciate. If she told you that, it means it’s harmless.” She kissed me. “While I do admire your body, it’s not in that pure sense. Not disinterested. Very interested.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Win
Sarah had been tempted to leave Leslie at home, asleep. Not a military attitude. If you chose to play through the night, you also chose to suffer the consequences. I’d smacked Leslie hard on her foot and hustled her out of bed. Handed her a travel mug and her coat. “Work’s calling,” I’d said. “You need to build up your stamina.”
She blushed as red as Sarah said she did. I laughed. Pushed her out the front door. “I’m driving Sarah’s SUV. She’s riding shotgun. Finish your coffee.”
By the time we got to Nathan’s, Leslie was a bit more awake. When I walked in, every monitor in the place was alive. Chomping data in a two-hundred-year-old cabin. Enough to throw anyone into a psychotic state but he seemed to see it all as a whole.
He sat down at his console. “A few things are coming together, but there’re still a lot of holes. These are the two punks from last night, Win. Recognize them?”
I studied the mug shots, tried to imagine their faces without the battering they’d taken when their truck ended up in the ditch. “The one on the left looks like McNab.”
“That’s what his license said. The kid on the right is Kenneth Salie. Twenty-two. Sealed juvenile record, but he’s had a couple of arrests for battery in Bloomington.” He tapped a key and the arrest record came up.
“That’s outside Ruby’s,” I said. “We need to check, but I’ll bet those were drag show nights.” I copied down the dates. “Where does this guy live?”
“Used to live right outside of Bloomington, but his current address is in McCrumb County. It’s an RD number not far from Logan Station.”
“Interesting,” Sarah said. “Not far from where Leatherby and McNab live, a damn nest of vipers.”
“That may be truer than you know, but let’s wait on that stuff.” Again, he tapped a couple of keys and a younger version of the real Joshua Leatherby came up. Complete with his arrest record from Kentucky.
“You found him,” Sarah said. “Shit, look at that rap sheet—he didn’t stop at battery. I bet with the B & Es he was stalking. Have you found any of the victims? Done any work on them?”
“The women seem to have disappeared, Sarah. Could’ve married outside the area, but there’s no further trace of them. I didn’t want to hack Social Security unless there’s real need.”
“I don’t know what we could get from them that would help this investigation,” Sarah said. “I wonder if McNab came from Kentucky too.”
“When I found Leatherby, I searched. Nothing.”
“How do you do that, Nathan. With your own face recognition program?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s a little more, um, agile than the government program.” He grinned up at me. “Enhanced a bit with what Bill gave me.” He hit another key. “Here’s the stream from the LGBT center. We got two hits.” They popped up. “Salie and an as yet unidentified man.”
“Unless Salie wore a wig, my money for the attacks is on the unidentified man,” I said. “At least from what the victims told me.”
“Am I just really thick this morning?” Leslie asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, or who.”
&n
bsp; I put my arm around her shoulders. “Thick, probably. But I bet you haven’t heard most of this. To try and do a simple rundown, we got onto Leatherby and McNab when we were trying to figure out who was writing the letters. But that’s not really who they are. They took over the identities of two local men who have since disappeared. We just found Leatherby’s real name: William Robert Underwood, probably known as Billy Bob. We’re still searching for McNab’s real name and where he came from. Okay?”
She nodded, taking notes furiously.
I told her about the attack on the students from the LGBT center.
“The unidentified one, the longer-haired guy, could be one of the stoners?”
“Gives a whole new meaning to the word,” Sarah said with a grin.
“Yeah,” I said. “I think we’d better start calling people by the names they’re known by in the county or we’ll all be confused. Anyway, we have one more suspect. Greg Hall. He went over the plat map that contains my land. We tracked him through the Recorder’s Office. Anything new on him?”
“I think that’s an alias,” Nathan said. “But I haven’t found a trail to his real name. Still working on it.”
“Wow, I had no idea,” Leslie said. “So you think the three guys, Leatherby, McNab and Hall, are connected here in the county. Then the two mug shots could be connected to what’s going on here—and might be connected to the stoning in Bloomington?”
“Succinct and well done,” I said.
Sarah’s phone buzzed and she walked over to the window to take the call. “We need to get back to the station,” she said as she stuck the phone in her pocket. “When are you available to continue this, Nathan?”
“Anytime, just let me know.”
She gave him a hug, then went to put her boots on.
When we got back in the SUV, Sarah turned around to the backseat. “You tell Deborah if she keeps you up all night again, I’ll come gunning for her.” She turned back around and a big smile lit her face.
I looked in the rearview mirror. Leslie was mortified and fire engine red yet again. “If Sarah gives you any static, just let me know. She’s not going gunning for anybody but the bad guys.”
“I’ll talk to you at home,” Sarah said, smiling primly and folding her hands in her lap.
* * *
The smell of burning diesel fuel and tires made me think about Iraq. I shifted my attention from the horrendous mangle of eighteen wheelers, trucks and cars. I scanned the nearby hill just off the interstate for snipers. I could shift the focus from protecting troops to protecting Sarah.
We’d sped to the station, dropped off Leslie so she could pick up Vincente and the crime scene van. We switched to a squad car and Sarah turned on lights and siren. Floored the gas pedal. We’d seen the smoke rising on the interstate from a half-mile away. I’d helped where I could. Got people out, carried them to safe areas along the highway. Now all the first responders in southern Indiana were here. I was left to wonder what Nathan hadn’t told us. Something about vipers would be my guess. Vipers?
We left midafternoon. “Back to Nathan’s?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got to begin paperwork on the accident. Try again in the morning?”
“I’ll call him while you slave away.” Ask him about vipers.
I did and he was noncommittal. “There’s more stuff coming in, Win. Let me try and put it together. We need as complete a picture as possible or we won’t know what we don’t know.”
When we finally both got home, I let Sarah work on dinner while I built a fire, and to get rid of the stink of burning diesel fuel, showered and changed clothes.
I walked into the kitchen. “Smells good. Except for your eau de feu. What can I do so you can go shower?”
She sniffed her sleeve. “Casserole’s in the oven with about twenty minutes to go. Put the bread in ten minutes before you take the casserole out. Make the salad. Okay?”
“Sir, yes sir.”
She grinned and smacked my butt. I almost delayed dinner right then, but the smell on Sarah’s hair and clothes was too strong for desire to overcome memory.
“Do you remember Deborah Voran?” Sarah asked as we ate.
“Went to high school with us?”
“IU too, except you left. She went to Harvard Law, joined some important firm in New York and came back home a couple of years ago to take care of her mother.”
“You’re asking me about her because?” I stopped before I took another bite. “She’s Leslie’s new heartthrob?”
Sarah nodded.
“You don’t like her?”
“No, I like her a lot and was glad to see her come home. She works for a local firm now. I’m just thinking about the age gap.”
“That’s their business, Sarah.”
“Not when it cripples my CSI’s abilities. I’ve never seen Leslie anything but bright and bushy-tailed.”
“I’d say that young woman was suffering from over bushy-tailness,” I said. Tried not to laugh. Unsuccessfully.
Sarah sighed, then a small smile formed.
“When we first got physical, you were off on sick leave. Otherwise somebody might’ve complained about your attention to duty.”
“Some? Damn, Win, I still have trouble concentrating on work when I think of you.”
“I’m glad,” I said with a smile. “Means we’re still cooking.”
“Her woolgathering could be dangerous.”
“Can you change her schedule? If Deborah’s still working, she only has weekends off. Remember our five days together? How much better it is when you take two days off?”
“Oh yeah, to both. But the CSIs set up their schedules together. Vincente has a family and Leslie offered to take weekends since his kids play sports.”
“Early shift on Saturdays? How often do teams play on Sunday? Or don’t you want Leslie devoted to anything but work?” I watched her as I finished up. “She’s not you, Sarah. Not yet. You’re struggling right now to find some kind of balance. It’ll be harder when the kids get here. Help her find balance now.”
* * *
When I woke the next morning, Sarah was gone from our bed. I smelled coffee brewing, bacon frying. The clock said it was five thirty. I thought about staying in bed, ambushing Sarah when she came to wake me. Then thought about being a responsible adult. I got up.
She glanced at me as I walked in, poured me a mug and kissed me on my forehead.
“Who’s your escort this morning? Leslie? You want to prove to her you can have a healthy sex life and still be raring to go to work the next morning?” I asked.
“You are my escort,” she said. “Leslie worked until about an hour ago on the accident scene.”
“Talk about a zombie. I’ll bet Deborah doesn’t get any loving today.”
“Win!”
“So why are we up this early?”
“I woke up and knew I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I did what my mom used to do. Cook.”
“What are you worrying about?”
“What the hell I’m doing! How am I going to be a mom when I can’t even guarantee when I’ll be home from work?”
“Ah.” I untied her robe and slid my hands underneath. “Let me tell you from experience. It doesn’t matter if a mom’s there or not—if she’s not loving you.”
“You make absolutely no sense.”
“Think about it, Sarah. May not make sense to you now, but its wisdom will come to you in time.” I moved my hands to her breasts. “Now, let’s eat before I carry you away. Don’t want to burn the bacon.”
I watched her scramble the eggs. Drank my coffee. Sarah was fighting a battle I couldn’t join. She had to decide for herself how much she wanted to put into being sheriff. How much she wanted to put into building our family. How much guilt she could deal with either decision.
We were about to leave when the trip wire at the base of the drive pinged. We both drew our weapons, stationed ourselves on either side of the door. Sarah peeped out the window.
We heard the soft purr of a car and a door slam closed.
Sarah holstered her Glock. “Company of the friendly variety.” She opened the door and stood back until a wiry woman came through.
“Sorry to visit this early, but I didn’t want to come to the station because it might give me a bad rep with my clients.”
They embraced. Then Sarah turned toward me. “You remember Win. Deborah Voran.”
We took a moment to introduce Deborah to Des.
“Jesus, Win, you haven’t changed a bit,” Deborah said, straightening up. “Since this is the first time I’ve seen you together, congratulations on your wedding.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But I didn’t think you even noticed me in high school. We sure didn’t travel in the same circles.”
“No, you were one of the Three Musketeers. I was jealous as hell—you guys seemed so close, so solid. The crowd I ran with would stab me in the back on the slightest whim. Damn good thing I didn’t realize I was lesbian then.”
I grinned. All of that was true.
“So, what’re you doing with my deputy?” Sarah asked.
“That’s what I came for, to apologize. It was our first time and she surprised me with her, ah…”
“I get the idea,” Sarah said. “You only have weekends free?”
“Pretty much. I don’t always work at the firm during the week, but if I don’t keep up, I’m not prepared for court or meetings. Why?”
“I’ll see if I can get Leslie Sunday off—but no guarantees. Police regs don’t take into account affairs of the heart. It is an affair of the heart, isn’t it?”
Deborah nodded. “It’s early yet and things might not gel. But Leslie’s…like a soft wind in spring. I never expected…well, you know.”
Sarah looked at me. Smiled. “No, I never expected to fall in love with a woman, and surely not this woman.”
“So I’m forgiven?” Deborah asked.
“Just don’t let it happen again,” Sarah said, all sharp edges now. “Leslie needs to be alert when she’s on duty, and if she’s not, it could get her or another officer wounded or killed— which is a hell of a hard thing to live with.”
Speak in Winter Code Page 14