Conard County Justice (Conard County: The Next Generation Book 42)

by Rachel Lee

  Cat changed her mind and got up to get herself a beer. “Want another?”

  “Haven’t finished this one. Thanks.”

  Cat brought her own beer to the table, glad she wasn’t sleepy any longer. She’d needed this boost, a rush of adrenaline, the idea that they might have a direction to head.

  She was driven hard by the desire to find answers, the need to catch the perp... Those were her fuel.

  She stared down at the icy bottle in her hand. It wouldn’t stay cold for long. “You can’t pour beer over ice,” she remarked.

  The craziness of her words brought Duke’s thoughts to a sharp stop and startled him into a laugh. “What?” he asked.

  “Irrelevant,” Cat answered. “Just one of those nutty thoughts that occur to me sometimes. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s a mental vacation.”

  She had a really sweet face. That was his own irrelevant thought, given the circumstances. But it was a sweet face, those blue eyes of hers bright, almost seeming to glow. He’d watched microexpressions pass over that face tonight, but they were slight and brief, and he had no read on what she was thinking right then.

  “You can’t pour beer over ice,” he repeated. “That sounds strangely profound. Maybe you’re trying to get at something.”

  She shook her head a little. “If I am, I suppose it will rise to the surface eventually. If it does, I might never make the connection.” The barest of smiles appeared on her face. “Or maybe I’m just honestly thinking that this beer is icy right now, but it’s not going to stay that way.”

  “Maybe.”

  He studied her, wondering at his own responses to her. Or maybe they were just normal because of the circumstances. Seeking a diversion, seeking an affirmation of life, wasn’t exactly outside his experience.

  Whatever. The fact that he found her sexy wasn’t fair to her. He had a strong sense that she preferred to be judged on her other merits.

  He turned his attention back to Larry, unable to dispel the feeling he’d been unwilling to acknowledge thus far: she knew something she wasn’t sharing with him.

  He understood that she couldn’t tell him a lot of things. But the way she had reacted when he’d said he wanted to see Larry’s house? That had been niggling at him, despite the reasons she’d stated. How could they still be treating the house as a crime scene after all this time?

  Since he hadn’t known Larry’s address here, he couldn’t even find the house. Conard County was a big, largely empty patch of earth. Look at how far out of the way Ben’s house was. Without an address of some kind, he doubted he’d have been able to find it even with GPS.

  So why wouldn’t she let him see the place? When he’d argued that he’d seen a lot of horrific things during his career, her response had been to point out that those things hadn’t involved his brother.

  But they had involved people who had been his friends, people with whom he’d had the close bonds that could only come about from relying on one another in life-threatening situations.

  Trust. Deep brotherhood, a kind different from what he had shared with Larry.

  He sipped more beer, telling himself he’d achieved what he wanted, that he didn’t need to take up more of her time. She’d promised to seek information and share what she could. However much she could share would be more than he had now.

  As long as he wasn’t beating down doors or threatening anyone, or going where the cops hadn’t yet gone, he couldn’t see a serious problem.

  But it was still time to leave. He’d already busted up whatever had been left of her evening. Not much of an evening, but still hers.

  He started to push his chair back.

  “No,” she said.

  “No?”

  “No,” she repeated. “You can have my spare bedroom. It’s a little on the small side, and my office stuff is in there, but you’re welcome to it.”

  The invitation surprised him. “Why?” he asked bluntly.

  “Because.” She shrugged and offered a fugitive smile. “Because,” she said again. “You’re a stranger in a strange land, and while I’m sure you’re used to it, you still don’t need to be alone with your grief. So stay. You’re not an intruder anymore.”

  Not an intruder? An interesting way of phrasing it. Deciding to accept her kindness, he slid back to the table.

  “Thanks,” he said. “You must want to go to bed.”

  “Not any longer. I’m wide-awake now.”

  His fault, that. “I should have waited until morning.”

  “Nah. I was thinking about the similar things, too. Nice to hash it out a bit. Good to know you reacted the same way to Matt that I did. I’d been considering tons of motives, most of them pretty standard for murder, but I hadn’t considered fear as a motivator. Seems like an oversight now.”

  It did, Duke thought. It certainly did, given Larry’s reporting, but... “I didn’t think of it, either. It should have been the first idea that occurred to me.”

  Cat frowned. “I usually think of fear when a wife kills her husband. I’m not always right, of course, but when there’s been abuse, then I think of it. Maybe it’s time to put that in my complete rucksack of reasons.”

  “You might never need it again unless, like you said, there’s domestic abuse.”

  She rose from the table and started pacing the small space. “It should have occurred to me sooner, given...” She trailed off.

  She was concealing something. His certainty grew. “Tell me how my brother was found again.” He was sure she could tell him that much, because she had before. Maybe she would let more slip.

  She stopped pacing. “Simple. Ben couldn’t reach Larry, so he called us, and we did a wellness check. And there needs to be a better term for that sometimes.”

  Her face darkened in a way that unsettled him even more. What wasn’t she telling him? “And?”

  “Larry had been dead approximately two days. I’m sure the medical examiner will have a more precise TOD. Time of death. Sorry. When I’m in cop mode, the abbreviations come naturally.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve got plenty of my own.”

  “So yeah, we went over there thinking he might have taken a fall and couldn’t get to the phone. Broken leg, cracked skull or something. I wish.”

  Duke waited, hoping she might continue to talk, hoping she might let another detail slip. After a bit, he asked, “Did you respond to the call?”

  “Yes,” she said tautly.

  He prompted even though he could feel her rising tension. “It was bad. Finding a body after two days can be disturbing.”

  “I’ve seen it before.”

  “So there was more.”

  “Damn it, Duke! Quit trying to get me to say something I don’t know for a fact.”

  That told him too much. Enough. He could see her jaw working, and now he gritted his own teeth. Damn it, Larry. Damn it.

  His stomach plunged like he was on a roller coaster. He wanted to pick up his beer and smash the bottle against something. Smash his way back until the world righted itself somehow. Not that it had been right since he’d received word of Larry’s death.

  “Look,” she said finally, leaning back against the counter and gripping it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “You’ve probably seen a lot of things that never cross the desk in a sheriff’s office in a smaller town, okay?”

  Duke closed his eyes, feeling fury rising until his gorge rose with it. It pounded through his head, throbbed painfully in his chest, and he really, really needed to smash something.

  He couldn’t do that. Not now, not here. He drew several breaths, steadying himself. When he opened his eyes, he saw Cat still leaning against the counter, but now she looked stricken.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have reminded you.”

  She still didn’t relax. He ought to get o
ut of here now, before he made it worse for her. He remained glued to his seat anyway. The rage had subsided just enough for him to carry on. Maybe he needed to run another ten miles. The road called to him.

  She spoke, her voice still tight. “I’m okay. But I just revealed too much, didn’t I?”

  “Only that his death was messy.” But there was more to it than that. He was certain now. And he still needed to work out the fury. “Can I use your weights?”

  “Of course.” Her eyes looked dull.

  The whole thing was ripping at her, he thought. All of it. Maybe in ways that didn’t occur to him because she was a cop.

  Then she straightened and poured the rest of her beer down the sink. “The office is down the hall, second door on the right. Look around, find what you need. I’m going to bed.”

  He’d been dismissed, and he was glad of it. Neither of them could take much more of this tonight.

  Chapter Seven

  In the morning, the sun burst from the east and painted the world in pink and gold light. High cirrus clouds turned into beautiful streamers of color against a sky turning deep blue.

  It should have been a good morning to be alive, Cat thought as she drove to the sheriff’s office. She had no idea what Duke planned to do that day. He hadn’t emerged from bed yet, maybe because he’d pumped iron for a long time last night.

  She didn’t care. Except she did. This whole situation had begun to feel like her brain was on a hamster wheel, running around from one notion to the next.

  Okay, so she didn’t want to care. Fine. Too late.

  Last night hadn’t helped one thing that she could tell. She’d been cast back into the horrible hours after she and Guy Redwing had found Larry. She could tell that Duke had connected the dots, and that was her fault. She didn’t feel good about it, either.

  She had tossed and turned for a long time, hearing the occasional clank of iron plates from the basement. At least that had been a momentary diversion from her grim thoughts. She had eventually fallen asleep to the punctuation of that clanging.

  She had no idea how much sleep she had gotten, but this morning her eyes felt sandy, and even though she drank two glasses of water, her throat felt parched.

  When she parked at the sheriff’s office, she considered heading to the diner for a morning latte. Yeah, why not? Better than being tempted to drink Velma’s acidic brew.

  Ten minutes later, coffee in hand, she walked into the office. She’d worn her uniform this morning, and she was struck by how much more secure she felt inside it. Maybe that was a hang-up all its own.

  Inside, her fellow officers greeted her, and when she asked Velma about Gage, Velma pointed down the hall. The sheriff’s office must be open for business this morning.

  Gage was, as usual, behind stacks of paper and the computer he sometimes cussed because it couldn’t read his mind. A common problem with machines.

  Gage looked up immediately and waved her to a seat. “How’s it going?”

  “I’m asking you,” Cat replied. “And I think I slipped up last night and let Major Duke know that his brother’s death had been messy.”

  “The understatement of the year.” Gage leaned back, his chair creaking.

  “You need some oil,” she remarked.

  “I need a better chair. Thing is, I know all the problems with this one and how to adjust myself. A new chair would be a whole new learning experience.”

  She laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Or maybe I’m just resistant to change.”

  “Not that I’ve noticed, at least not when it comes to something important.”

  He nodded, his dark eyes still trained on her. “What’s up?”

  “I want to know about the Larry Duke case, and about the burglary two days after.”

  One of Gage’s eyebrows lifted. “Why?”

  “Because I need to know more than what I saw when I arrived on scene. Because I need to give Duke some additional information. Because I need to know where we’re at, what I can share and if I need to keep him away from something. Right now I’m wearing blinders.”

  He nodded, then winced as he leaned forward to put his elbows on the desk. He picked up a pencil and tapped it lightly, one of his favorite thinking poses.

  “I get it,” he said after a moment. “But why the second burglary?”

  “There’s always the possibility of a connection of some kind. The homeowners were out of town, right?”

  “True.”

  “So maybe they’re still alive because they weren’t there.”

  Gage sighed. “Yeah. It’s crossed my mind. Maybe most everyone’s.”

  “See why I need to be clued in? No point in me running over things the rest of you have already considered.”

  He tapped the pencil more rapidly. “I’m going to have to trust you when it comes to sharing with Duke.” He wasn’t asking.

  “Yes, but you know me well enough by now. I’ve been a cop for over ten years. I get the point of keeping investigations close to the vest.”

  “I know. I know.” He dropped the pencil and once again leaned back. This time he didn’t grimace. “I was trying to make it easier on you, but I guess I didn’t. How are the two of you getting along?”

  “Well, I no longer think he’s going to kick in a door and start shooting.”

  He laughed. “That’s an improvement. When I first met him, all I could do was wonder how we were going to restrain this tornado. Short of throwing him in a cell without charge.”

  “I honestly think he could break out.”

  “Maybe. Okay, get the files. Read them. I’m not even sure I know all the details myself.”

  “Thanks. One other thing. I need to read Larry’s news stories, and there’s a paywall. Can I approach in official capacity?”

  “Sure, or use the department’s credit card.”

  She rose, then paused. “Any idea when we’ll get the autopsy and forensics?”

  He shook his head. “They keep promising that it’ll be soon, but soon hasn’t come yet. I can’t nail them down to anything more specific.”

  “Probably the most interesting autopsy they’ve done in a decade.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe they just don’t want to chance missing something when this case is so gruesome and we’re short on clues.”

  It was as good an explanation as any, she thought as she headed out front to grab a computer. She could read the articles from home. The files? Not so much.

  She paused just long enough to leave a message on Duke’s cell. “I’m reading the files.”

  And probably unleashing a whole mountain of questions from him. This was going to be fun.

  Not.

  * * *

  DUKE WAS OUT running again when he got Cat’s message. The news quickened his pace without regard to endurance. He wanted to get back.

  He’d stayed up late working with her weights. Then he’d added more repetitions. Trying to work through the maelstrom of emotions that wouldn’t do a damn thing except cloud his mind.

  Finally he had grown sleepy and had started looking for the bed and the bath. No clean clothes, so now he stopped at the motel on his way back from his run to shower and change.

  Then he was off again. Remembering Cat had said something about a bakery, he detoured and found Melinda’s Bakery facing the courthouse square.

  “Hey,” he said to the dark-haired young woman behind the counter. She had her head mostly covered by something like a shower cap.

  “Hey,” she answered with a smile. “Would you like lunch or pastries? At this point in the morning, the pastry levels have begun to shrink.”

  He looked in the case. “I bet you can hardly keep them full.”

  “For just as long as it takes me to fill the case and open the front door.” She grinned. “I’
m very popular.”

  He flashed her a smile. “Any idea what Cat Jansen likes?”

  “Oh yeah. Turnovers and Danish.”

  “Then load me up with Danish, please.”

  She paused as she began to pull items out of the case and place them in a white bag. “I don’t think I know you.”

  “I thought everybody within fifteen miles must know by now.”

  She laughed. “You’ve figured this county out. But no, I haven’t heard about you.”

  He paused, then said, “I’m Larry Duke’s brother.”

  Her hand froze as she started to fold the bag to close it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! He was such a nice man.”

  “He was.” Duke hurried to pay, then left with his bag of delights. He wondered if he should take them to Cat at the office, then figured it would be uncivil of him to walk in those doors without enough to share.

  He jogged back to her house and made coffee, then settled in for the wait.

  * * *

  CAT FINISHED UP by ten. It was disturbing to realize how little information they had about either case. Plenty of details, but little that was useful in finding a suspect. Were they going to have to wait until some item showed up in a pawnshop?

  Hell, they didn’t even know all that might be missing from Larry’s house. Ben had supplied what he knew, but it was soon clear that he and Larry had mostly met at Ben’s place. What was more, Ben was trying to cope with grief, they couldn’t let him in the house and he had to guess about things that might have gone missing.

  They definitely didn’t want Ben inside that house. This was tough enough on him without adding nightmare images.

  The Hodgeses’ place was more informative, but hardly illuminating. However, that scene had been released. Maybe she should ask the homeowners if they’d mind if she brought Duke over. There was nothing there he could mess up in any way, and maybe he’d feel like he was doing something. Or that she wasn’t trying to wrap him in a wall of silence.