Speak in Winter Code

by S. M. Harding

“You think we really need to pull him out now?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She thought for a minute. “We can question him last and then he can disappear before he gets to the jail. Sound okay?”

  Was I letting my concern about Nolan get the best of my operational sense? Maybe. But he’d said this was his last op. Could he be traced back to Bill and his organization? Maybe. “Let me call Bill.”

  “Go ahead and have Sarah spring him,” Bill said. “He’s retiring and they’ll never be able to connect him to MCIA. We’ve covered his tracks completely.”

  “Okay, but please be absolutely certain. And thanks for everything.”

  I nodded at Sarah. When he came in a half-hour later, he held up his handcuffs. “Is this the thanks I get?”

  “You’re sounding awfully cocky,” I said. “For a felon, that is.”

  “Worked, didn’t it? And I didn’t get a scratch. Good job, all around.”

  Sarah unlocked his cuffs and gave him her thanks.

  “So, what are you going to do now?” I asked. “Bill said you’re retiring. Anything on the horizon?”

  “Just a clear sky. Why?”

  “I haven’t talked this over with the sheriff yet—but how about spending your golden years in local law enforcement for McCrumb County?”

  Sarah turned to me. Her eyebrows just about hit her hairline.

  “Think about it, Sarah. Bill doesn’t want these yahoos to know MCIA is involved. If Nolan signs on with us, he looks like a local cop. Besides, you’d get another member for SWAT. And a really great guy, to boot.”

  “Do I get a say in this?” Nolan asked. He grinned. “Actually, I was thinking about settling down somewhere I’ve never lived. I like the country around here because there are no big mountains, but it’s not flat either. Close to Paducah.”

  I turned to Sarah. “Well?”

  “The grant money would cover the hire for a couple of years. But I think you should meet Willy, our team leader. For right now, can you just disappear?”

  “I’ll go up to Indianapolis,” he said. “Give you a call when I get settled.” He gave me a big hug. “You’ve got a good set of officers, Sheriff. Much better than I thought I’d find in rural Indiana. If there’s room, I’d like to join them.”

  * * *

  We got home around eleven, which made it a fucking long day. Sarah was still wired. A clean op with the result she wanted—sweeping up all the trash. Except I didn’t think all the garbage was in the local jail. Leatherby, our sniper, was in critical condition in the hospital, McNab and Salie were in the county jail. Hall, described as “office” when he, McNab and Leatherby had met at Dog’s, was still at large. He seemed to be the local commander, the one who was getting orders from above. We still needed to know who that “above” included. If this were a national conspiracy, as Nathan and Bill thought, how would they take an absolute defeat? Retaliation? Or back to the drawing board? As I lit the fire, I couldn’t help shake the feeling this wasn’t over.

  “How’s your wrist,” I asked as I settled on the couch next to Sarah.

  “Throbbing.”

  “Whatever prompted you to hit that guy with your cast? Wasn’t a loaded weapon good enough?”

  She snuggled closer. “If I’d identified myself with my weapon drawn and he didn’t surrender, I would’ve had to shoot him. I didn’t want to do that.”

  “Shit.” I put my arm around her. Felt the fabric under my fingertips, sensed the warm skin beneath her uniform.

  She let out a long sigh, put her hand on my thigh. “I feel so relieved, like the weight of the world’s off my back. I think I’m beginning to feel human again.” She lifted her head to look into my eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for being there, by my side in all the planning and execution—but if you ever set yourself up as bait again, I’ll divorce you.”

  “Easier said than done. Ditto with the back rub you’ve offered.”

  “Would you really like one? I can do it one-handed.”

  I got up, told her to scoot over. Lay down on the couch with my head on her lap and my stockinged feet on the other arm.

  She began tentatively, working in small areas. “I can’t feel your muscles through this sweater.”

  “Easy remedy.” I pushed myself up to a kneeling position and took it off. Groaned because my shoulder had stiffened up. “Is this really a back rub or should I take my bra off too?”

  Sarah looked at the growing bruise. “That’s got to hurt.”

  “It’s okay. No permanent damage. Now answer my question.”

  “Yes and yes.” She unclasped my bra with one hand, kept her arm around me. “I’ve been so scared, so constantly. If you hadn’t been here by my side, I would’ve been carted off to the looney bin.” Sarah stroked my back. “I’ll never know how you did it all those years.”

  “Did what?”

  “Lived with all that pressure, the planning and then the execution.”

  I sighed, couldn’t help it. “You get into a rhythm, tunnel your thoughts about what you have to take into consideration. What you have to do. You go over the checklist until you’re satisfied.” I lay back down. “Just rub my back. Concentrate on the muscles—you should be able to feel the knots without a problem now.”

  She leaned over, kissed my back. Then started kneading the muscles around my neck.

  Today had scared the shit out of both of us. I vowed I’d never let them get that close again.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Waterstone picked up the call and glanced at his watch. Two thirty. It should be Al checking in from the op. “Waterstone.”

  “Disaster, man. Absolute disaster. All of ’em are in jail or the hospital. Should the rest of us spring ’em?”

  “No. Although go ahead and spread the rumor. I have a plan B and I’ll send you everything you’ll need with my operative. Code name Walker, code word boom. In the meantime, have them go ahead with the diversion we talked about.”

  “But shouldn’t we—”

  “Follow orders. We’ll take care of the others. Don’t go home, go to Evansville Regional Airport, get a room at the Motel Six. We’ll contact you there. Do it now.”

  He snapped his phone shut. “Fucking idiots.” He turned and stared at two photographs on the wall he’d cut from the Greenglen Sentinel. “They’re not finished with you yet, ladies. Soon, I promise you, soon.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Sarah

  “I don’t have much I can release to you,” I said to Zoe over the phone. I’d come in early to go over the statements and see if our inmates had given up any information at all.

  “Was there an attack on the station?”

  “Yes, an organized assault, but I don’t know by whom and nor their motivation. To tell the truth, I’m hoping whoever is responsible will take credit, though since it was such a total failure, they probably won’t.”

  “McCrumb County Rangers?”

  “Possible, but I have no verification.”

  “Let me check our wall,” Zoe said. “Maybe they posted something there or on Twitter. When you get a statement ready, please send it over. Indy media’s sniffing around and Lloyd’s having an anxiety attack about getting scooped on his own turf. It’s already hit social media. I heard the state police were in on the bust.”

  “Dispatch called them and they were close.”

  “You’re not going to be able to keep a lid on this.”

  “I don’t want to, but until I have some concrete information, I’d be irresponsible to release speculation. Hang in, Zoe. Let me know if you pick up on something. Right now, every bit helps.”

  “Do you think this has something to do with your relationship with Win?”

  “No, maybe, but I really don’t know. One of the men we arrested has a record of violence against gays in the Bloomington area, but there’s no evidence that was their motivation.” I opened a file. “I can’t release their names yet, but they lawyered up with one Gordon Quinlan. I don�
��t know him and he doesn’t live in the county.”

  “Interesting. I’ll work on it. Glad no one from your department was seriously injured.”

  “You can’t imagine how grateful I am.” We hung up and a second later it rang again—the hospital with the news on the shooter. He’d make it. “How’s the other guy? The one I concussed?”

  “Let’s just say you got him good. He’s conscious, but his nose is shattered and there’s some damage to the orbital rim. He’ll go into surgery when the swelling goes down.”

  I thanked her, and rather than return to the statements, went upstairs. The front area and bullpen areas were dark because the window had been boarded up. The glazier was supposed to be here in the afternoon, but we’d lost the sign painted on the window in 1939. I hoped someone had saved the shards because it felt to me as if we’d lost a part of our tradition.

  I walked into the forensics lab and saw Leslie concentrating on a monitor. “News,” I said as I settled on a stool next to her. “Your shooter’s still in critical condition, but he’s going to make it.”

  She took a deep breath. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Lousy. I know it was a righteous shoot, but it still seems so…”

  “Brutal?”

  “Yeah, that among other things. I wanted to be a cop to protect people, not shoot them.”

  I took her chin, made her look at me. “I’ve killed in the past because if I hadn’t, my dad and Win would’ve been killed. Leslie, if you hadn’t taken that shot, the man who shot Win could’ve gotten another shot off and killed her. Or any other cop who walked onto the square.” I let my hand drop. “This might not help much, but what you did allows us to bring this man to justice. He’ll have to stand trial for the murder of Linda and Barry Browne.”

  “And the other shootings.”

  I patted her shoulder. “You need to make an appointment with Dr. Peterson ASAP. That’s an order since she’s the department shrink. Now, you have the ballistics for the rifle we got from the roof?”

  “I didn’t touch any of it since I was in the action. Vincente did it all. He worked all night on all the ballistics. He’ll be back this afternoon.”

  “Good—good chain-of-evidence procedure and good Vincente will be in later.” I stood. “What does Deborah say about this?”

  Leslie turned to the monitor. “I…I haven’t talked to her since the incident.”

  “Call her now. She’s probably heard the rumors and must be so worried. That’s another order. Then finish this up and go visit her. You don’t have to tell her what happened, just what you’re feeling. You can’t keep the shit from your partner or you’ll shut her out of your life. Believe me.”

  * * *

  By the time I got home, I was insurrectioned out. Caleb and I’d gone over all the statements with the proverbial comb for any clue to the organization that had launched the assault and found zilch. Nathan ran the names through all the databases he had and found a communication tree that led to the McCrumb County Rangers and back to 1776 Corps. They wouldn’t be arraigned until court resumed after the weekend on Monday, so we had time. Vincente’s forensics report nailed our shooter for not only his attempted murder of Win but other sniper attacks. He’d done a yeoman’s job.

  I also called Bill, but all he said was that he’d get back to me. Well, hell. Why would he cut me out now?

  The deputy dropped me off in front of our home and I stood a moment, staring at the sky and the full moon. The temperature had dropped again, so the moonlight made the trees look like glittering spun-sugar. I let my breath out in a frosted billow.

  Win opened the door, let Des out and me in. I embraced her and held her close. “I’m so lucky to come home to you.”

  “Your peg leg bride?”

  “You getting cabin fever?” I asked as I let her go.

  “So is Des. We’ll work it out.”

  I hung up my coat and duty belt. “Only one more day until my days off. Where do you want to go?”

  “Go? Snowshoeing, skiing. Before the snow gets too sloppy to do anything but watch it melt.” She maneuvered into the kitchen. “I know. I’m turning into a fat, cranky woman. Where do I want to go? To the hospital where they’ll take off this fucking cast.”

  “All in time, Win. I’d like to get rid of this too,” I said as I held up my arm.

  “Did you do any lasting damage?” Win asked.

  “Not to my wrist, but his face is another matter. He’s going to have to have extensive plastic surgery.”

  “So he’ll be beautiful again?”

  “He was pug-ugly to begin with, at least as much as I remember of his face, Win.”

  “Too bad you didn’t have a baseball bat or a rifle butt.”

  “Are you going to stay cranky?”

  Win took a deep breath, exhaled noisily. “I’ll try to chipper up. No promises. Soup and sandwiches okay with you?”

  We fixed dinner together and by the time we had everything on the table, Win had relaxed a bit. I thought she was more frustrated with having to use the crutches to get around than with the cast, but it was a toss-up.

  “I had a talk with Leslie today and it was like you were sitting on my shoulder, telling me what to say.”

  “Yeah, I bet. Tactical talk?”

  “No, she was upset about her shoot. I made her promise to call Em and set up an appointment. I also reamed her out for not calling Deborah.”

  “They still going strong?”

  “Yeah. I told her while she didn’t have to talk about the incident, she needed to share her feelings about it with Deborah. I sounded exactly like you.”

  Win looked up, searching my face. “You really said that?”

  I nodded.

  “Did you mean it?”

  “Yes. I’ll try, Win. No promises.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Win

  Sarah wanted me to go to the station—but for what purpose? I’d done enough sitting around, so she left early. I began the housework. Dishes weren’t a problem, getting the laundry to the washer was more of a problem. Dusting was impossible—find a place to rest crutches where they wouldn’t fall, dust, hop to do more in the area, pick up crutches. Repeat. I woke up from a nap with sniffles and I sure as hell didn’t need this shit.

  Besides, I realized I was waiting for the next move of the planners of the debacle at the station. Even if it had been intended as a trial run, I didn’t believe they’d retreat to their den to lick their wounds. I wouldn’t. I’d come back with a strike that would let my opponent know I was still out there. Waiting. Ready to take them on again, waiting to crush them.

  Was I warped? Or just well-trained?

  I put away the cleaning supplies, settled down at the computer, went through all Nathan’s notes again. I still couldn’t figure out why they’d picked McCrumb County. A random dart to a US map? Or did they target the county for a specific reason like revenge for the Shamsi takedown in Greenglen and the weapons he’d stored here? Or did they have their eyes on some other local target?

  I called Bill. “Two questions. Is there still chatter?”

  “Yes. Two?”

  “Any idea what they’re planning?”

  “No. We’ve got tons of data to go through, Win. I’ll let you know if we get a solid lead.”

  “They’re not going to let go. Any idea why they hit here?”

  “That’s three.” He hung up.

  “Fuck you.”

  I couldn’t let it go. Why not pick a soft target if they only wanted to create panic? Fear? Why had they attacked a hard target, even if it was a county sheriff’s department? Any unit of law enforcement was a hard target. Were they preparing to tackle the state police post? Why would they?

  I thought of other hard targets in the area. Camp Atterbury. Crane Naval Warfare Center. Crane had a number of contractors in the area around it. One with a particular attraction to a paramilitary group? I almost called Bill
, but knew I’d had all the answers I was going to get today.

  I pulled up a list of businesses in the county, looked at more detail for some of them. Nothing. No armament manufacturers, none that handled expended radioactive materials.

  These homegrown terrorists operated on their own wavelength.

  I kept circling back to one question: what did they want?

  I called Nolan. He picked up on the third ring. “Hey, Win. What’s up?”

  “You settled in?”

  “Yeah. I’m getting fat on room service, compliments of MCIA.”

  I grinned. He’d never get fat. “You have any ideas on why they picked on the sheriff’s station? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “Down to business right away. You haven’t changed.” He laughed. “Nope. The planning was in motion when I joined their effort. All I can say with certainty is that the order came from above, wherever that is.” He exhaled a long breath. “For whatever good it does, making that kind of assault as your first statement is stupid.”

  My turn to sigh. “You think it was a statement? If so, what the hell does it mean? Nobody’s published a manifesto. Our local newspaper looked at all the stuff on their timeline and Twitter. Nothing.” I smacked the desk. “They swoop in. If they’d succeeded, what was the plan?”

  “Swoop out. Disappear.”

  “Ah, fuck. This whole op is so fucking senseless.” I doodled on my legal pad. “There’s some indication this was practice for a bigger op. You get that sense?”

  “I was the newbie, Win. If there were more plans, I never heard about them. You want me to go back in? As the fugitive? Thanks to the story Sarah put out, I escaped and am now on the lam.”

  “Too damn dangerous. They have to know there was a leak. Don’t they?”

  “Probably.” He was quiet a minute. “There’s one guy, McNab. He strikes me as the weak link.”

  “He’s lawyered up. But I’ll pass on the word about McNab. If you think of anything else, call.”

  “Right. Stay safe, Win.”

  I called Nathan. He picked up right away too. “You’re going to ask me if there’s anything new and the only answer I can give you is I’m not sure.”