Expired Refuge

by Lisa Phillips

  Conroy turned back at the door.

  He could see the edge of fear she was trying to hide. Conroy had always liked that soft spot she guarded, like her life was a fortress hiding a precious treasure. He intended to protect it until she decided she could trust him, and then they’d have the conversation about her finally forgiving him for what had happened to Mara.

  She met his gaze. Tipped her head to the side.

  Conroy lifted his chin. This wasn’t over. She would have to realize that, or it would get pretty uncomfortable when she figured out he was all in. No backing down.

  His phone had quit ringing. It started up again.

  Conroy slid the tip of his finger across the screen. “Yeah, Kaylee.”

  “Call for you. He’d like you to call back.”

  “ASAP?”

  “He said no, but…”

  There had to be a reason she had called instead of just leaving a paper on his desk. “What?”

  “Ed Summers wants to talk to you.” She sighed audibly. “It’s going to be another one of those days, isn’t it?”

  “Probably should just clock out, get a dozen donuts, and hit the couch.”

  She chuckled. “You ever eat a donut in your life?”

  He tried to remember. “Maybe?”

  “Yeah. I don’t eat one. I eat seven. So that’s a no for me. But I like the way you think, boss. We should put that on the list for our Easter bash.”

  She never did turn down an excuse for a party. “Copy that. I’ll head over to Summers’s place.”

  “You think that’s wise?”

  “Just call him back,” Conroy said. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

  She said nothing else, which was probably for the best. Rousing a house full of people who thought their personal residence meant they could do whatever illegal things they wanted, and weren’t likely to welcome a police officer, wasn’t on his to-do list for today. Especially when it was early enough most would probably be off their game. Hair-trigger reactions meant unpredictable outcomes.

  Conroy needed at least Summers off his game. The guy was slippery and had been in high school, as well, even when they were friends. It was worse now that Ed had full access to whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. The guy had built what amounted to an empire out of one estate house on the edge of town. A gated residence with armed guards. Conroy had gotten a couple of noise complaints. There had been a sexual assault case about a year ago, dropped when the victim decided she no longer wanted to press charges.

  He knew what was happening.

  Summers thought he was above the law, and so far that was proving true. But it wouldn’t be the case forever. Conroy was going to find something he could make stick.

  He had to honk his horn to rouse the guy on the gate. It was wheeled back, and Conroy drove down to the main house. Summers walked out onto the porch, smoking a cigarette and drinking from a steaming white mug. Jeans, no belt. No shirt. Tattooed sleeves up both arms and over his shoulders, along with half a dozen more on his chest. His back was also covered. What was almost a beard covered his chin, and his hair needed cutting and combing about a month ago.

  “Morning.” Summers lifted his mug in salute.

  “Not good?” Did he know about the car explosion, the dog, and the intruder at Rich’s house?

  “Heard there’s a new girl in town.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I need to be worried there’s a fed poking around?”

  “Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. Any of those in your small business plan?”

  “Bro, my business ain’t small.”

  “I’m not your bro.” Conroy hadn’t been that for a long time. If he ever had been.

  Summers cracked a smile. “You and I, we’ll always be connected.”

  He was willing to concede that might be true. “You know it’s not just a fed. It’s Mia Tathers.”

  Summers took a drag on his cigarette. “One of my men is missing. Tyler Lane.”

  “You wanna file a police report? Cause you could’ve just called an officer down here to take the information.” He didn’t need the lieutenant, his old friend. “This isn’t concierge policing.”

  Ed’s lips twitched, but not for long. “He didn’t come back last night.”

  “And that’s unusual?”

  Summers shrugged.

  “You need to get me his real name and a photo.” DNA would be better. “I’ll keep an eye open for him.”

  “I appreciate it.” Another drag. “Mia’s really back?”

  “And she’s gonna be left alone. Spread it wide,” Conroy said. “If I hear about any of your people messing with her, you and I will have an even bigger problem than we already do.”

  Ten

  Mia figured she should just print out a sign that said, “Available for Attempts on Life.” Nothing else was working.

  It had been three days since her breakfast with Detective Wilcox. She and Savannah had a couple of text conversations since then, but that was all she’d done except sleep and watch TV. The drone of shows she didn’t care about did a mediocre job of keeping stray thoughts at bay. Her dad’s house had never been a sanctuary. Now it was worse, though.

  She shivered, and not just because of the cold. She needed to walk. Even if she was scared.

  Her beanie itched the skin of her forehead. Mia’s hair lay over the shoulders of her winter coat. She should have worn a base layer under her jeans because it was seriously cold. Her gloves weren’t stopping her fingers from freezing.

  She walked anyway. Down the new trail that ran alongside the highway. Right up until a car slowed alongside her.

  She twisted, reaching for the gun by her side.

  “Easy.” Conroy rolled up the window and pulled over.

  Mia stopped on the path and looked up at the thick, gray clouds hanging low. More snow tonight, she figured.

  “What are you doing?” He got out and came over to her. Work shoes, khaki pants, and a black wool coat. Maybe it was dress-down day at the police department.

  His badge, in the leather holder, was fixed to the lapel of his coat above the top button. She’d always thought that was cool. On him…okay, so it made him even hotter than he already was, and it wasn’t like he needed help in that department.

  “Well?” He waited for her answer.

  “I’m trying to get him to come at me again.”

  “Because you’re bored?”

  Mia glanced up at his furious face. “I’d like to say it was nice to see you.” She started to walk away.

  His fingers snagged her arm. Right where the dog’s teeth had sunk into her skin.

  Mia let out a cry.

  He released her. “The dog. Sorry, I forgot it was that arm.”

  She held it to her front, hugging herself, not willing to tell him it was okay when it was not.

  “So you’re mad and bored, and determined to get him to come at you again. So you can shoot him?”

  “I’d call you. After.”

  He didn’t laugh.

  Mia sighed. “Yes, my arm hurts. I can’t take more pain meds for like an hour, or however long it is until three.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “My watch is under my jacket, under my sweater, which is tucked into my glove.”

  He looked at his phone, then stowed it back into his back pocket. “It’s two thirty.”

  “I have half an hour.” She wanted to take the meds now, but spacing them out came before weaning herself off them. In the end, Mia preferred the pain rather than going the route so many others did by taking too long to go off them and developing an addiction.

  “I’ll drive you back to your dad’s house.”

  “I’d rather walk this nice path they’ve put in since I lived here.” It had been shoveled and salted and everything.

  He folded his arms across his chest. If he was cold, he should get back in his fancy police SUV. He looked like he didn’t know whether to be mad or to l
augh. Instead he said, “Can we please get in the car?”

  “I need to stretch my legs.”

  Conroy reached into his pocket. The lights of his vehicle flashed and the horn honked. “So let’s go.”

  She said nothing.

  “Lead the way.” He waved up the path. “You wanted to walk, right?”

  She set off. “I’ve realized my legs work fine. It’s the rest of me that’s having problems.”

  Conroy shook his head, looking a little exasperated.

  “How about you?”

  “Head still hurts.” He strolled like it was June and they were at the park. “But I ruled out Summers as playing a part in what is going on with you.”

  Mia pressed her lips together. She’d been thinking about what he’d said, and the way he’d put it. The car exploding, the dog running at her, and the man in her dad’s house. Specifically, she’d been mulling over what those things, in that order, might mean. Because it sounded awfully similar to the order of things that happened when her team served a warrant on someone’s house.

  How did that make sense?

  She’d wondered about calling Tate and asking him to open a new case. Have him find out whether the last suspect had any friends or family who might have a bone to pick with her now. Tate had texted her after he ratted her out to Conroy. But only to tell her he wasn’t sorry. Then he’d sent her a PayPal invoice. He shouldn’t hold his breath anticipating a tip.

  Conroy touched the back of her shoulder, thankfully the good side. Sure, she could ask the police lieutenant to look into the life of a man she’d killed on that ATF operation, but then he would know she had an idea what all this was about. Who it was causing such havoc in her life. Mia would rather solve this problem in-house. Which meant...by herself.

  Conroy gave her shoulder a squeeze. She glanced over. Surely he wasn’t making a move on her, was he?

  “Bike.” He shifted them both to the right side of the path. A mountain biker whizzed past, wearing tight-fitting pants and shirt.

  Mia shivered.

  She heard Conroy chuckle under his breath as he lowered his arm. “I prefer to ride a stationary bike at the gym this time of year. When my head doesn’t hurt.”

  She nodded. “I walk.”

  “I see that.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t mean stroll like this. I mean, like, hiking. Vigorous hiking. It helps me clear my head.”

  “Lots of that in Seattle?”

  “If you know where to look.”

  “You like it?”

  Mia said, “You mean, do I like it better than here?”

  He shrugged. “Do you?”

  “It’s where my job is; where they assigned me. Seattle is fine, and my team is all right.”

  “Just all right?”

  “They’re guys. And when I say that, I mean like the ‘good ol’ boys’ type of guys. My friend Allyson was on my team until she married a US Marshal and they moved out of state.” Mia shrugged.

  “What about a local church, or friends?”

  “I guess.” She hadn’t attended service in a while, though she’d gone to a women’s group a few times before she realized she didn’t really fit in there.

  He was going to pressure her until she cracked. Mia could just tell. What she should do is walk home. Immediately. Lock her door and wait until whoever insisted on messing with her knocked. Then she could deal with it her way. No more contact with Conroy.

  And yet, since he got out of the vehicle, all the fear she’d felt when she was by herself had dissipated. She’d never needed a man to make her feel better. Not once in her life. Starting with her own father who had been present but had little idea what to do with hormonal, emotional girls. He’d never been her steady foundation. He could barely stay still himself, always off doing one thing or another. Working. Hunting. Fishing. Camping by himself, leaving them in the care of neighbors or older women at church who spanked them with spatulas. Like that was how you imparted Jesus in someone.

  Conroy wasn’t like any other man she’d ever met.

  Which was probably how her sister Mara thought of him in high school, when they’d decided to be exclusive. The king and queen of youth group and high school prom. Mara had only gone to church because of Conroy.

  There was no way she should fall for the charm and reassurance of his presence. Especially when he had no control over it. Conroy was just this way without realizing it, and she shouldn’t find herself relying on it.

  They came on a park she recognized. “It’s like this is a whole new town, and yet the one I remember at the same time.”

  “That about sums it up, considering all the city council does is argue about whether to accept the movement of progress or preserve the town’s legacy. It’s history.”

  She grinned.

  He shook his head. “Don’t even get me started on that.”

  “Not thinking of running for Mayor?”

  “No way.”

  “Police chief?” It seemed like he was doing the job already.

  He shrugged, but she could see an edge of exhausted grief in his eyes. “If the mayor appoints me to the position after Chief Ridgeman passes.”

  “And in the meantime you’re doing it all, just not getting paid for it.”

  They crossed grass, moving toward the deserted playground. It was a school day, and too cold for moms with little kids to be out.

  “That doesn’t mean I’m not able to help when you need it.” He turned to face her. “If someone is coming after you, then it’s important they are dealt with so they aren’t able to hurt anyone else.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Why does that not look like a good thing?”

  She wasn’t going to back down. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt, either. But I’m a federal agent. I can do this without help.”

  “Sure, if it’s set up perfectly and he walks right into it. You and I both know life doesn’t work out like that, especially not in our line of work. You can’t guarantee an outcome.”

  She patted the jacket over her hip. “That’s why they gave me a gun.”

  “You didn’t get to it at your house.”

  “I don’t need you to do that guy thing where you pick apart my plan until I feel stupid.”

  “That’s not—”

  Mia shook her head. “Just don’t. Okay? If I need something, I’ll call Wilcox.”

  “Your new best friend?”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “You mean you won’t accept it. There’s a difference.”

  “Who cares when the outcome is the same?” She turned and started across the playground. “You have enough to do, and I’m fine.”

  After what he’d done, she didn’t want to trust him. She shouldn’t by any estimation. Mara was dead. Mia didn’t want to end up the same way.

  No, that wasn’t fair.

  “Mia.”

  She nearly turned back. He even sounded like he felt guilty, about what though?

  The fact he hadn’t prevented it wasn’t the same as him causing her sister’s death. Ed Summers had been drunk behind the wheel. Summers was the reason Mara was dead. But that didn’t remove at least a measure of responsibility from Conroy’s shoulders—he’d been her boyfriend. At the least it could be argued it was some kind of criminal negligence as an accomplice to Ed’s actions.

  “Stop trying to protect yourself from me.” His shoes crunched frosty grass behind her. “When I’m the one here to help you.” He paused. “Mia.”

  She kept walking.

  “Mia.”

  She whirled around. “What?”

  “Stay right there.” He moved past her.

  A man’s body had been laid out on the ground at the far end of the playground. Medium height, so far as she could tell from him lying down. Yellowed, dirty jacket. Worn jeans covering thick legs. Huge, black work boots, scuffed. Dark blue beanie pulled down over his ears. Facing away from them, but like he’d been rolled aga
inst the curb separating the bark from the grass of the playground.

  “Stay there.”

  She wasn’t sure that was needed, but this was his jurisdiction. Murders weren’t what she investigated. They occasionally played a part in her work, though.

  “And call Detective Wilcox.”

  She tugged her phone out and peeled off one glove to call it in. While she spoke with Savannah, Conroy rolled the man to his back. She said, “Dead?”

  He looked at her.

  Mia asked, “Well, who is it?”

  On the other end of the phone, Savannah said, “I’m on my way.”

  The line went dead.

  She said, “How did he die?” She strode over to get a look at the man.

  Conroy straightened from his crouch. “I’m not a medical examiner, but I’m guessing it was the gunshot to his stomach.”

  She sucked in a breath that got stuck in her throat. “Who—” She coughed. “Who is it, do you know?”

  “His name is Tyler Lane. He’s been missing three days.”

  “You know him?”

  “He works for Ed Summers.”

  She took a step back. “I had nothing to do with this.”

  “That’s a little convenient, don’t you think? We just happen to stumble on the site where a body was dropped.” Conroy’s eyes narrowed. “And when I run his prints against what was gathered from your dad’s house?”

  “This isn’t my fault! Don’t make it sound like it is.”

  “And yet every step of the way, you’ve been right smack in the middle of it.”

  Mia opened her mouth then, too fast for her to hold the words back.

  “Just because he was killed the same way I killed the other guy doesn’t—”

  Conroy got in her face then. “Start talking.”

  Eleven

  Conroy held himself still. “This man was killed the same way as who?”

  He wanted to touch her but held off. He could see she was ready to bolt. That would only leave her unprotected and alone with no way to get back to her dad’s house. Not without walking all the way back, and it was at least an hour’s stroll from here.