by Rachel Lee
“I can imagine.”
She believed he did. Being stalled was never pleasant in any part of life. He was a person of action by trade. She was beginning to believe she was one, too.
“I’m impressed,” he said, “that you dropped everything to come here and take care of your mother.”
A diversion. Maybe she needed it. “It’s what you do for someone you love.”
A simple answer, straight to the point. It had never occurred to her to do anything else.
When they finished eating, she put the leftovers in her refrigerator while he put the dishes in her dishwasher. “There should be enough chicken and potato salad for lunch tomorrow.”
“That was the plan.”
Then they returned to her office and their reading. Sitting there, scanning articles without apparent end, didn’t satisfy her. But no piece of evidence, no clue, was too small to consider. The downside of the job.
It was nearly midnight when they headed to their separate beds. For the very first time it occurred to her that she might prefer Duke beside her.
Oh, for Pete’s sake, Cat. Straighten up and fly right.
* * *
DUKE STOOD AT the window in Cat’s office. He’d opened the curtains to let the night in, having turned off all the lights.
He liked the night. While threats often worsened in the dark, he knew darkness also offered him protection. An opportunity to move surreptitiously. A way to conceal himself from the enemy or prying eyes.
Stealth was part of his job at times, and he knew its importance. He thought about the two crime scenes, about why no one had heard a break-in. Stealth. That was leading him down a path he didn’t want to follow.
The three soldiers mentioned in Larry’s extensive article had been charged. But someone must have paid them for those killings. Hired them. He’d assumed it might have been one of the warlords in Afghanistan, since no other charges had emerged.
Even if it had been a warlord, that could have caused ripples up the chain of command. It wouldn’t be the first time commanding officers had gotten into trouble just for not being aware of what their soldiers were up to. For failing to control their men. For failing in their duty, which Duke sometimes thought required psychic talents or prescience.
But usually it didn’t. Usually there was a whisper in the wind to alert officers that something below them was going seriously wrong.
The attack on Duke’s career could have been as simple as that. Or it could have been based on the faulty assumption that Duke had been one of Larry’s sources. Damned for breaking the code of silence.
Or to put it in the vernacular, don’t be a rat.
Thinking Duke was a rat could have put some officers on a mission to ease him out of the officer corps.
But it could have been something far, far worse. As in someone in uniform had paid those soldiers to kill. Or someone in uniform had sold his soul to a faction. To a warlord or a politician.
He really needed to read Larry’s article in detail, to look for a clue in his brother’s writing that might tell him which it had been. But maybe Larry hadn’t known how far up the tree this sludge went. And maybe someone thought he knew and was preparing to write a book about it. Or maybe that had been exactly what Larry was doing. Maybe he had known.
Too many maybes. Way too many.
He placed his hands on the window frame and leaned forward, feeling the muscles in his back and shoulders stretch. He needed that stretching. The tension there was building into a headache.
His thoughts drifted to Cat. He understood her impatience, even understood why she stuck with a job that often frustrated her. It was the challenge of the chase, the victory when a case was solved.
He was developing a serious admiration for her. She wasn’t a quitter, not in any sense of the word. Imagine her caring for her mother that way. Determination and love, an awesome combination. Her job was difficult and frustrating, but she still did it. She believed in justice, too, just like Larry.
He was sure his presence was increasing the pressure on her. Sure, she wanted to solve the case for her own satisfaction, but now she had to deal with him wanting a solution for personal reasons.
Not that he thought she didn’t care about the collateral victims in a crime of this nature. She’d said enough for him to know she wasn’t a machine, that she did care about a victim’s family and friends. But still, having him in her face every day must be uncomfortable.
He sighed and leaned away from the window a dozen times, stretching even more, modified push-ups.
She was an attractive woman, and this setup wasn’t helping him to ignore it. The urge to explore her, to bury himself in her, was growing. He knew he just wanted to forget for a few hours, and that wasn’t fair to her.
Or maybe the desire was more than that, but he didn’t want to chance it as long as there was a question in his own mind about why he felt it.
Apart from his attraction to her, he liked her. Really liked her. He knew she was handling him, but except for that one minor confrontation in front of the department store, she’d managed him deftly.
Yup. She considered his feelings, fed him what she could to make him feel better about his part in this. She was measured when she could have exploded. She shared that she was frustrated, too, essentially telling him that he wasn’t alone in this madness that had overtaken him.
And it was madness. He wasn’t a man to go off half-cocked with a stupid plan. The fact that he had burst into her life making unreasonable demands, yet she’d treated him with such care...
A remarkable woman, a remarkable law officer. She, and her boss, could have kicked him to the curb and told him to stay in his own lane. He’d have been floundering, no matter how much he had initially tried to believe that he’d find something. Instead, between them, they’d thrown him a lifeline. Even though she clearly hadn’t wanted to be his keeper, she’d shouldered the job.
He pushed away from the window one last time, then dropped to the narrow space between her desk and the bed and began to perform one-armed push-ups.
Exercise. It helped most things, most especially directionless tension. It wasn’t as if he could jog out into the night and solve his brother’s murder.
“Damn it, Larry,” he said into the darkness. “Couldn’t you have confided in just one person?”
But the person he might, just might, have confided in had already turned his back.
The guilt had become insurmountable. Larry couldn’t forgive him now.
Justice. Larry cried out for it. It had been his guiding light.
It had become one for Duke as well.
Morning couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Nine
In the morning, Cat found her sleepy way into the kitchen and started coffee. A quick scan of her fridge—which looked awfully familiar after her hunt last evening—revealed enough eggs to scramble for two. A reasonably fresh loaf of rye bread also sat on the counter.
Eggs, toast and jam this morning, she thought as she yawned. Or peanut butter on the toast. She always liked that, and it helped keep her full until lunch.
She was still yawning when Duke appeared. He had dark circles under his eyes, announcing the kind of night he’d had. He rounded the table to get himself some coffee then nearly sagged into his chair.
“Bad night?” she asked before yawning yet again.
“Yeah.” He offered no additional information. Not that she really needed any.
“I was thinking,” he said.
She felt there was more to that. “About what?”
“I’ll talk once I have coherent thoughts.”
Eventually she felt her stomach rumble and rose to make toast for them. “Raspberry jam?” she asked. “Or plain toast or...”
A small laugh escaped him. “Whatever you’re having, if you don’t m
ind.”
She didn’t mind. Facing another day of reading Larry’s articles didn’t appeal to her. Necessary, but no fun. Larry had been a great writer, but news story after news story wasn’t exactly gripping.
They took a couple of brisk walks during the day to work out the kinks. Running into Edith Jasper, who was walking her harlequin Great Dane, Cat and Duke stopped to talk to her for a few minutes.
Edith was upbeat as always. “Bailey keeps me in shape,” she said when Duke admired him. “He’s not going to settle for a trip around the backyard.”
Duke flashed a smile. “He’s a big guy.”
“Folks tell me he’s too big for me, but I’ve had him for four years, and he’s never once been a problem. Doesn’t tug hard, doesn’t run into me when he’s exuberant. Nope, he’s a good boy. Aren’t you, Bailey?”
Bailey’s tail wagged happily.
Then Edith zeroed in on Duke. “You’re Larry Duke’s brother, right? I never met him but, on this town’s endless grapevine, I heard he was a good guy. Friendly and fun. I’m sorry this happened.”
“I guess my identity is running around on that grapevine,” Duke said as he and Cat continued their walk.
“I’d be surprised if it wasn’t. You’re a stranger with an interesting backstory. Maybe I should have asked how much information was making the rounds.”
He swiveled his head to look at her. “Worried about it?”
“Only where the information might have come from.”
Back at her house, their legs comfortably stretched and unknotted from walking, they ate leftover fried chicken, then settled in once again at her computer.
Cat wished she had a second screen. So much more comfortable for them both if Duke didn’t have to read over her shoulder.
Then she noticed something. “You’ve come back to that military exposé several times. What’s bugging you? Was that what you were thinking about this morning?”
“I keep trying to glean something more from it,” Duke admitted.
“But you think it might be more of a problem than his older stories?” She swiveled her chair around so she could see him directly.
“I’m wondering.”
“Because of what someone has done to your career?”
“Not entirely.” He paused and rubbed his chin. “Sure, they could think I was a source for Larry’s article. Even though I had nothing to do with those guys. Didn’t even know they existed until Larry’s story was published.”
“They’re not Rangers like you?”
“Nope. Regular troops, a few tours in Afghanistan.”
“So what else do you think might be going on?” She had to keep from leaning forward in anticipation. She could feel the first little bursts of excitement that he might be providing a new angle.
“Well, somebody had to pay these guys enough to do the killing. Three that were evidently enticed into this operation. Now, people at their rank don’t make a lot of money, but you’d still have to pay for their silence so they wouldn’t brag about what they were doing.”
He was probably right about that. “Go on,” Cat said.
“Anyway, given that someone was paying them, the question becomes who. Officers receive decent pay, but enough to hire hit men? I don’t think so, unless these guys were very cheap. Which could happen.”
“You just don’t think it’s likely.”
He shrugged. “I also wouldn’t have thought that a person or persons would try to kill my career over something Larry wrote. Sure, rats are hated, but it also suggests that someone is seriously scared.” He raised his arm and started drumming his fingers on the end of her desk.
“I don’t have a link to anyone, obviously,” he continued. “I may be all wet. But I started thinking about someone selling out to a warlord. There’d be a lot of money in that for whoever was directing this from above. Someone had to be. It’s not as if these guys could just wander off for a night to kill someone. Wandering off gets you in trouble. So, it seems to me that someone was paying them, and someone ensured they weren’t on duty at those times.”
“Wait,” Cat said. “Clarify, please. I take it you can’t just call in sick and miss a day?”
“Nope. You have to go on sick call, seeking to get treatment of some kind. Get a duty excuse. If you’re in a forward operating base or something like that, disappearing for even a few hours could get you charged for being absent without leave.”
“Wow. That’s a restrictive environment.”
He shook his head. “For good reason. You see that in a lot of jobs in civilian life, too.” Duke half laughed. “If you take time off without permission, you’re stealing from the Army.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Uncle Sam owns you, the Army pays you. Hell, you can get in trouble for a bad sunburn, because you should have avoided it. Damaging government property, or something like it.”
Cat remembered her own experience. “A long time ago, I worked with a guy who got fired for claiming jury duty for the second time in two weeks. The company found out when the police called wanting to know if he was on sick time or something. Well, the woman who answered the phones put two and two together. And as it happens, he didn’t take sick time but put in the hours on his time sheet as being on jury duty, which meant he got paid his full wages for eight hours. Not once, but twice.”
“I’m not surprised he got fired. Pretty much the same for a soldier. Although since you can’t be fired, you get other consequences. Anyway, point remains, these guys had someone up the chain covering for them.”
She rested her elbow on the arm of her chair and considered this new perspective. It was sure an interesting one. “But would some officer send someone this far to take out your brother? See, that’s the part I’m having a little trouble with. Why would anyone at this late date want to take Larry out? He’d already done his worst.”
“Maybe. That’s part of what’s bothering me, too. So many uncertainties. Fact is, however, if several people up the chain have reason to be concerned, yeah, they could send someone out here. For heaven’s sake, they got three guys to engage in killing for hire. Why wouldn’t they be able to hire some guy to put paid to Larry?”
“Do you think that’s what he was writing a book about?”
“I don’t know, obviously, and neither do they. Every way I look at it, I keep wondering who could do this and why. Yeah, years back he made some very public links between domestic terrorism groups, and heads rolled. He was involved in a RICO investigation that sent some people to jail. The question is, who would come after him because he was writing a book?”
“I wish we knew if it was even that.” She glanced at her computer and was startled by the time. “I need to figure out dinner.”
“No, you don’t. I’ll run out and get us something. Any preferences?”
“There’s the supermarket subs. At least they have veggies on them.”
His eyes crinkled at the corner. “And a whole lot less fat.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll ride along, if that’s okay. I need some stuff anyway.”
“You’re on.”
And at least it was out of the house. At this rate she could get cabin fever.
* * *
THE THREE MEN gathered around their paltry fire again as twilight blanketed the land. The minute the sun went behind the mountains, the temperature dropped quickly.
The first man opened his rucksack and pulled out Larry Duke’s computer and cell phone. “Charged,” he announced.
Man Two looked delighted, but the third guy was still feeling annoyed. “You get seen?”
“Of course.”
“What the hell? You weren’t even disguised.”
The first man just shrugged. “You ever been to a truck stop? The place is crawling with people who don’t live around here. Even t
he locals wouldn’t notice a new face in that crowd.”
“Oh.” Man Three grew subdued.
“I was wondering if I could gather much intelligence, though. I knew if I started asking questions, it’d be noticed. Especially questions about Larry Duke. So I just listened.” He picked up a twig and snapped it, then threw it on the fire. One of the other guys had started the coffee.
“Did you at least get to eat real food?” the second man asked almost wistfully.
“I was in a truck stop diner.” As if that answered the question. Which it did, however indirectly.
“So what now?” asked the third man.
The first man pointed at the second. “You spend tonight hacking your way into the computer and the phone. Hack as hard as you ever have.” He indicated the third guy. “We’re going for another break-in tonight.”
“Is the house empty?”
“No. Plan on being silent. Completely silent. Guy is single, lives alone, owns a food store.”
“How’d you find out about him?”
For once, Man One looked a little less angry. “Someone mentioned Major Duke. They were behind me while I ate, and he was curious about why Duke’s talking to certain people. We start there. After that we’ve got a tougher problem. A guy who owns an auto repair in town. He was mentioned, too, and doesn’t live alone.”
It grew quiet for a while, the only noticeable sound the night wind blowing through surrounding growth. Spring was trying to emerge on this sparse land.
“Anything else?” the third man asked eventually.
“Only Duke.”
“We’re going to have to take him out,” said the second man.
“We shouldn’t, much as I’d like to,” the first man said. “We’re hardly covert if we do that. It’s not enough that he’s nosing around with the help of that damn deputy.”
“He is?” The second man sat up straighter.