by Cassie Miles
Wheeler looked up from the spiral notebook where he was writing as fast as he could. “Whoa there, Sheriff. Who do I call at mountain rescue?”
Jake rattled off a name and phone number. “Call me when you get to the scene.”
“How can I tell if the driver got away from the wreck?”
“First, you have to determine if the driver was in the car when it went over the edge. There should be tire marks if he tried to stop. Look for a blood trail. It hasn’t rained so there could be footprints.” Jake paused. “You know what, I’m coming with you. It’ll be good for me to do some field work.”
“Good idea.” Wheeler flipped his notebook closed.
“Don’t look so happy,” Jake said. “We have a press briefing at eleven. That’s going to be your job.”
“Me? I don’t know what to tell them.”
“You’ve heard me do this often enough.” Jake clapped him on the shoulder. “There are only two words you need to know. No comment.”
“But Sheriff, I’m not—”
“Handle it. That’s an order.” He turned to Saida. “I’m going to be tied up for the rest of the day. I’ll meet you at the airfield at four.”
“What about my phone calls?”
“Keep trying.”
He touched her arm. His gaze met hers. For an instant, she thought he meant to kiss her. But he only smiled.
There should have been something she could say to him, some way she could tell him how important he was to her. She admired the way he took charge. The citizens of Wind River County didn’t appreciate what a good job he was doing. Truly, there was nothing sexier than a man who had found his calling and performed his job well.
Chapter Twenty
At ten minutes until four o’clock, Nasim drove the Hummer onto the tarmac beside the main hangar at the private airfield on the outskirts of Dumont. Saida rode in the front seat. Sheik Efraim and Callie were in the back. Efraim wasn’t coming with them to Cheyenne; he was escorting Callie—a duty that apparently included kissing and holding hands when they thought Saida wasn’t looking. And he would drive the Hummer back to the resort.
Earlier this afternoon, Saida had spent some time with Maggie and they’d picked out a simple toga-style gown in a soft peach color that emphasized her glowing skin tone. Finding the proper shoes was more difficult; Maggie’s feet were a size larger than hers. They decided on a pair of open-toed sandals with jeweled straps.
Most of Saida’s day had been occupied with learning the names of various investors and politicians. Furthering the oil industry in the COIN nations seemed like a petty concern until Nasim reminded her that Amir hoped to ensure a prosperous future for Jamala through their natural resources. Amir would want her to handle this well.
Her brain was overloaded with names and connections, but as she disembarked from the Hummer, she held only one important thought: Jake. Last night, he had very nearly propositioned her when he suggested that she stay with him. She was ready. Tonight at the hotel, she would say yes, yes, yes.
This trip to Cheyenne was the perfect opportunity for Jake to be less responsible than usual. He’d be free from the constant scrutiny in Dumont, and there would be no midnight calls regarding his duties. Not like today.
He’d spent several hours at the crime scene with the wrecked rental car. The rest of the time, he was coordinating the many facets of the investigation. He was an amazing sheriff. Of that, she was sure. In his realm—Wind River County—he was brilliant.
She wished that she was more comfortable in his world. Being a princess didn’t prepare her for life in a small town where everyone tried to fit in. She was foreign. She stood out. Always had, always would. There would always be those who resented her and those who outright disliked her.
To be completely honest, she didn’t think Jake could transition into her world, either. Jamala was a sunny island where his cowboy boots would be a joke, and the citizens would be dismayed to find she was involved with an American.
The same might be true of the rarified, sophisticated atmosphere of Beverly Hills. Jake was too real, too natural. She didn’t see him as someone who would shine on a red carpet. A long-term relationship with him seemed impossible; she would have to be satisfied with one night, maybe two.
As she approached the sleek private jet, she saw Maggie talking to the pilot. Jake must already be here. Soon they’d be together. Though it was ridiculous to miss him after being apart for only a few hours, she was anxious and excited.
He stepped from the plane’s interior onto the staircase and stood there. In his black suit and white shirt with the collar open, he was as handsome as a movie star, definitely worthy of any red carpet. The only hint of Wyoming was his wolf belt buckle. Subtly, she lifted her cell phone and took a picture.
When he smiled at her, she was struck by the perfect symmetry of his white teeth and high cheekbones. Beverly Hills would love this man. He was gorgeous enough to fit in anywhere.
After he greeted her and Callie, he helped load their luggage into the cargo hold. “Only two suitcases? Saida, you’re traveling light.”
“What did you bring?”
He pointed to a gym bag. “I wouldn’t have needed that much, but I have a change of shoes in case I get time to shoot hoops with Oscar.”
Maggie joined them. “I can’t wait to see Oscar. I love his family, and he might be about to hook me up with a job in Cheyenne.”
Saida asked, “If you leave, who will take care of your brother?”
“Jake’s a big boy,” Maggie said. “He’ll manage.”
“Oscar wants you to work in his office,” Jake said. “He thinks you’d make a better lawyer than a shrink.”
“Well, I’ll just have to show him how wrong he is.”
She flounced up the stairs to enter the plane, and the rest of them followed. Though Saida was accustomed to first-class travel, she appreciated the luxury of a private jet. The eight seats in the cabin were comfortable, arranged in two sections with a table with two chairs on each side. She and Jake were side by side, facing Callie and Maggie.
Nasim settled into a seat by himself. He reclined the seat and closed his eyes. After they reached Cheyenne, he would be continuing his journey back to Jamala. An arduous trip. He needed his rest.
When they were airborne, Maggie flipped open her laptop. “Is it okay for me to use this?”
“Not a problem.” Saida showed her how to connect to the internet.
“There’s something I wanted to read to you,” Maggie said. “It’s a blog from someone who calls herself the Lipstick Lady, and it’s one of the first things that pops up when I type Jake’s name into the search box.”
He leaned back and groaned. “Is this necessary?”
Callie said, “It’s good to know what you’re stepping into.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s a big, steaming pile of—”
“Here it is,” Maggie said brightly. “The headline is ‘Sexy Sheriff Meets Pouty Princess.’”
“Pouty?” Saida took offense. “I’m not pouty.”
“Here’s what it says.” Maggie read from the blog. “‘Those of you who have been following the daily news briefings from Dullsville, Wyoming, have no doubt fallen madly in love with Sheriff Jake Wolf, known as the Wolfman when he played basketball. Sorry to report that it’s too late for us mere mortals. Sheriff Jake—a manly man if I ever saw one—is having a fling with none other than the fashion icon from Jamala, Princess Saida Khalid. The princess has had dozens of dudes, including half of the Lakers. I’m calling a foul. Why can’t she leave Jake for the rest of us?’”
It was Saida’s turn to groan. “I’d like to make it clear that I only dated two of the Lakers. And nothing happened.”
“I’m still impressed,” Jake murmured. “It’s not a bad thing to be linked with the Lakers.”
“This Lipstick blogger makes it sound like I was having sex with the whole team.”
“If I was a lawyer,” Maggie said, �
�I’d sue for slander.”
“Libel,” Callie corrected. “Slander refers to spoken defamation. Libel is for written. And it would mean a long, protracted, expensive court battle.”
“I know,” Maggie said. “Jake was always cool about the lies they printed when he was running for sheriff. I hated it, especially when they called him a drunken Indian. I’m sure Burt Maddox was behind those stories.”
“Burt lost,” Jake said. “I won. End of story.”
Saida didn’t enjoy notoriety, but she accepted the rumors as part of her duty as princess. No matter what was said about her, mentions in the press brought attention to Jamala.
“The story about you two having an affair is going to pick up steam,” Callie said, “especially when you show up together at the Cattlemen’s Ball. There will be photos and innuendos, whether it’s true or not.”
Jake turned to her and lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe we should give them something to talk about.”
She wouldn’t mind turning their rumored affair into reality, wouldn’t mind at all. “Maybe we should.”
WHILE THE LADIES WERE getting dressed at the hotel, Jake took the opportunity to meet Oscar Pollack for dinner at the hotel restaurant—a white tablecloth place with a menu that ranged from escargot to hamburger. His old friend was obviously doing well, brimming with the confidence he had lacked when they’d first met ten years ago. He was tanned and fit, and he’d shaved his head since the last time Jake saw him.
“Cue ball,” Jake said. “I like it.”
“So does my wife.”
They ordered dinner—grilled rib eye for Jake and a T-bone for Oscar—and caught up on what was happening with Oscar’s family. He seemed genuinely enthused about hiring Maggie to work at his office. “I need an admin,” he said. “She’s smart and polite but won’t put up with any guff.”
“She needs to earn some cash this summer. The phrase ‘starving college student’ is more than a metaphor.”
“You don’t need to remind me.” Oscar had worked his way through college and law school. He took a sip of his lemonade, regarded Jake critically and said, “Tell me about your investigation.”
When Jake started talking, the words spilled out in a torrent. It was a relief to discuss the ins and outs of what had happened since the COIN royals came to Wind River County, and it was a long story. By the time Jake had caught up to the present, they’d had a refill on lemonade and their steaks had arrived.
“Today,” he said, “I checked out the wrecked rental car. My preliminary conclusion is that it was pushed over the edge of the cliff to dispose of it.”
“Nobody in the car?”
“If there was a driver, he jumped before the car went over. There were bloodstains on the driver’s seat, and the blood type matches William Dormund. It’s likely that he was murdered in the car, and then his body was moved to where we found it.”
“Did you find fingerprints on the vehicle?”
“My forensic people haven’t had it long enough to make a report.” Jake cut into his steak. A beautiful piece of meat, it oozed juice. “But I found something else in the trunk. A Beretta that belongs to the princess.”
Oscar made the immediate connection. “The gun that was stolen from her luggage. I assume you filed a missing weapon report when she knew it was gone.”
“I did,” he said. “I’m pretty sure ballistics will show that her gun fired the bullet that killed Dormund. I know she’s not guilty. She was at my house when Dormund was shot. But having her weapon used in the murder looks bad. It ties her to the crime and suggests that she knows the killer.”
“A lame attempt to incriminate her.”
“Very lame.”
“Big picture,” Oscar said. “Amir is still missing. The bad guys want to find him, and they attempted to kidnap Saida so they could use her as leverage or because they think she knows where her brother is hiding.”
“These so-called bad guys paid Dormund and Granger to do their dirty work.”
“And you’re assuming the bad guys are associated with a political faction in one of the COIN nations—people who would benefit by having Amir out of the way.”
“Maybe.”
For a moment, they ate in silence. Jake had the feeling that his friend had information that might be useful but was hesitant about talking. Oscar was a lawyer, after all. He had to be discreet.
“I didn’t know Dormund well,” he said, “and I don’t generally traffic in rumor. But I have reason to believe that he had connections that were closer to home, not all the way around the world in Jamala.”
“I’m listening.”
“Dormund was a lawyer before he was disbarred and became a private eye. He had a gambling problem, lost a lot of money on the ponies.” Oscar hesitated again. “Did you check his client list?”
“The FBI went through his records. His file-keeping system was a mess. And we never located his computer.”
“Maybe you’ve heard,” Oscar said, “Burt Maddox’s wife is living in Cheyenne.”
“She’s here taking care of her parents, right?”
“And getting away from her husband. She’s been talking to divorce lawyers. Some of those lawyers might have used the services of Dormund to investigate Big Burt.”
“I don’t suppose you could give me the names of these lawyers,” Jake said.
“You don’t need their names.” Oscar sliced off a thick chunk of T-bone. “The important thing is the connection between Maddox and Dormund.”
Maddox had been creeping around the edges of his investigation. He’d found the truck and pointed them toward Granger. Both Maddox and one of his men had made it a point to hang around at the resort. Big Burt Maddox always bragged that nothing went on in Wind River County that he didn’t know about. Jake might be wise to focus on him as a suspect.
Jake checked his wristwatch. It was almost seven o’clock. “I should go upstairs and see if the ladies are ready. They said seven, but I’m not counting on it.”
A huge grin slid across Oscar’s face. “Tell me all about the princess.”
“She’s beautiful. Has a good sense of humor. And she’s smart, in her second year at UCLA law school.”
He chuckled. “It’s been a real long time since I’ve seen that goofy look on your face. You like her. You like her a lot.”
“Maybe.”
Jake looked toward the front of the restaurant. Saida was talking to the maître d’, and he was bowing repeatedly. She spotted Jake and waved.
“There she is,” he said.
Oscar turned in his seat. “Wow.”
Her deep purple gown was strapless, displaying a lot of skin and a necklace with an emerald-colored stone the size of a traffic light. As she made her way through the tables, conversations stopped and people stared.
Jake rose to greet her. In her formal dress, she looked like royalty. Not only that, she was wearing some kind of crown in her hair. There was only one way he felt like he could properly greet her.
He took her hand, raised it to his lips and brushed a light kiss over her knuckles. “Princess, I’d like you to meet Oscar Pollack.”
Oscar was gaping. Not a problem for Saida, she gave him a warm hug. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Princess,” he said.
“I just came down here to tell Jake that we’re ready. If we don’t leave soon, Maggie is going to explode with excitement.”
Oscar swallowed hard and recovered his poise. “We’ll have more time to talk at the ball. My wife wanted to know if she’s supposed to curtsy when she meets you.”
“Tell her I like a fist bump.”
Saida linked her arm with Jake’s, and they sailed out of the restaurant.
Chapter Twenty-One
When their limousine pulled up in front of Little America, Jake exited the car first. He’d been to other events at this hotel—political fundraisers and dinners. None of those compared to the gala atmosphere this evening. Since the governor and other hi
gh-ranking officials would be in attendance, the media was out in force, and there were plenty of uniformed cops, probably some guys he knew from when he worked in Cheyenne.
As he scanned faces, looking for someone familiar, he realized that the cops were looking past him, keeping an eye out for threats and troublemakers. He wasn’t one of them anymore, and it made him sad. He’d been a good cop, an honest cop. It was a decent job.
A red carpet covered the front entryway, and there were designated places for arriving guests to stand, be photographed and talk to people with microphones.
Jake was privileged to be escorting three beautiful women: Callie, Maggie and the princess. Callie emerged from the limo with a great deal of poise. Her gown was conservative. Her manner, low-key. She was representing the Secretary of Foreign Affairs and needed to present a statesmanlike image. In contrast, Maggie bubbled over with excitement. In the gown she’d borrowed from Saida, she was as fresh and pretty as a new peach. He wasn’t sure what she’d done with her makeup, but her lopsided grin seemed sophisticated.
Then Saida stepped onto the carpet. Though she’d told him that the stone in her necklace wasn’t a precious gem but a green crystal from Namibia, it sparkled like a million bucks. She’d also explained that jewels in her upswept hair weren’t a crown but a re-purposed necklace with white crystals surrounding green ovals. Her gown—which she referred to as “definitely last season”—was simple but perfectly fitted to her tiny waist. In his opinion, she was every inch a princess.
The cameras were drawn to her. Moths to a flame, they swarmed. But they didn’t come too close. She seemed to radiate a royal force field that held them at a distance, as though she was a flame and coming too close meant getting burned.
As he accompanied the ladies, Jake heard his own name being mentioned. It seemed strange that he’d be noticed, but then he remembered the real reason he was here. The attorney general, a man who he’d met only once before, wanted him to let everybody know that things hadn’t gotten out of hand in Wind River County.