Conard County Revenge

by Rachel Lee

  Not good. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands and stared at the debris. Little by little, it was being grouped into piles of similar items. They’d get there.

  In the meantime, she stepped out into the wet late afternoon and walked around the school again to look at the site. Such a strange target.

  Likely practice.

  But practice for what?

  Micah Parish came round the corner. “Agent? I’ve gathered all the pieces of that metal. It doesn’t look like anything I recognize.”

  “Not anymore,” she admitted.

  “But there’s still something about the way it feels when I heft it.”

  She faced him, her heart quickening. “And?”

  “I’m not sure. Something is familiar but I can’t nail it. Maybe we need the lab to look at it, but it’s awfully burned. I’d almost bet it was the container, though.”

  She nodded. “I agree. I’ll send what we have to the lab. Maybe they can get something off it. Paint color. A letter.”

  He nodded. “I’ve got patrol tomorrow, but I’ll come back in the late afternoon. In the meantime, I’ll call if something jogs my memory.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it, Deputy.”

  “Micah. Just Micah.” With a nod, he strode away.

  Darcy stared down, hardly aware of the continuing rain, feeling like she was getting nowhere at all.

  Chapter 7

  A while later, Darcy saw Alex approaching across the sodden ground.

  Oh, hell, she thought. Not now. Not when she had just decided she was going to grab dinner and burrow into her room at the motel. The deputies on guard would protect the evidence overnight; she could close her eyes with reasonable confidence that nothing would happen before she opened them again, rested and ready to deal.

  But there was Alex, and this morning’s conversation hung over her like a heavy weight. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t said something awful, so she was going to have to face it now.

  “You look bushed,” he said when he got nearer.

  “I am.” So easy to claim fatigue and just walk to her truck, but she knew that would only harden her earlier words as a permanent judgment. She didn’t want that, not for either of them. “Let me buy you dinner,” she said impulsively.

  His eyebrows lifted.

  God, he was gorgeous. Too tired to bury her response to him, she just let it roll. Gorgeous. Attractive. Sexy. Viking. Cripes. Beneath his navy jacket she could see the outline of powerful shoulders, maybe from all the carpentry and construction he did. Inevitably, like dawn following the night, she wondered what it would feel like to have those arms wind tightly around her. She had only the vaguest memory of him carrying her to his couch, and now she wished she had been more awake.

  “Darcy?”

  She blinked, realizing she’d remained silent as she drifted on her crazy thoughts. “Sorry. I’m having trouble concentrating.”

  “Dinner,” he said. “Yes. Are you okay to drive?”

  “I better be or it’s going to be a long walk to the motel.”

  He snorted a laugh. “Like I’d let you. Seriously, are you safe to drive?”

  “I’m sure. I can’t leave my truck out here anyway. Everything is in it, including all my gear and my suitcase.”

  He shook his head a little and grinned slightly. “Are you afraid your toes might grow moss if they hold still too long?”

  He turned, starting them walking toward the cars, but she found herself wondering if he’d just hit on something important about her. Was she afraid to hold still? She knew she preferred to keep busy and often worked extra hours, but she’d put that down to having little interest in the regular activities of life. Keeping up her apartment, occasionally enjoying a lunch or dinner with another colleague, an infrequent movie... Gads, she’d become a hermit!

  But she was aware, too, that there was a disadvantage to being a woman in her kind of position. No one would say it out loud, but while she might be able to manage a relationship, the men she worked with probably wondered how a husband would tolerate her being an agent, and if she married how would she balance that with being a mother?

  Those things weren’t supposed to matter, but she was well aware they did, however unspoken they remained. She was also aware that she had to work harder than her male colleagues, had to constantly prove herself. For her, advancement was much slower and more difficult.

  So she was looking at this assignment as a good sign. Maybe she was getting ahead. Or maybe she’d just been sidelined from a more important investigation. Hell.

  Gripping the steering wheel of her truck, she drove behind Alex to the diner and wondered what his reaction would be to her crazy thoughts. After all, he’d been in the FBI. He must have some idea of what she’d felt and whether it was true or imaginary. Of course, as a man, he might be blind to all this. Psychological wizard or not.

  But first she had to clear the boards with him. Her comment had been inexcusable.

  Maude’s diner, as she’d learned the City Diner was called by locals, was blessedly quiet. The cold had to be keeping folks at home. Or maybe they were still nervous because of the bombing.

  Regardless, she and Alex took a corner booth with plenty of privacy. Good, because she wasn’t inclined to make her apology public. Wouldn’t that cause tongues to wag?

  After the inevitable coffee and menus had been delivered by a younger version of the gorgon she usually met—Mavis, according to the name tag—she broached the most important matter.

  “Look, I want to apologize for what I said to you this morning. You were making valid objections to what I was doing with Jack, and I said an awful thing to you.”

  “About me living in an ugly world?”

  “Yes.” God, she hadn’t wanted to say the words again. In retrospect they’d been hideous. She didn’t know this man well enough to know what kind of world he lived in. Nor whether his judgments had been warped by his job. Yet she’d implied they had been.

  “You might be right.” He handed his menu to Mavis as she returned and ordered the steak sandwich. Ravenous, Darcy did the same. Today’s cold had left her feeling as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

  “Why do you say that?” she asked when they were once again alone.

  “Because I went to talk to Gage Dalton, our sheriff. You don’t know about him, but suffice it to say in another life he was undercover for the DEA and it cost him everything.”

  Almost in imitation of Gage, her hand flew to her face. “A bomb?”

  “Took out his whole family and left him mangled. Anyway, he shares our perspective a bit, being a former Fed. But he also knows this county like the back of his hand. He thinks we’re both right.”

  Her brows lifted and then a tired laugh escaped her. “You didn’t say he was a diplomat.”

  “He’s not. He’s as blunt as he needs to be. He was blunt with me. He listened to my reservations and your decision with Jack, and he agreed we both might be right. So, ipso facto, anything could happen.”

  Tired as she was, she almost laughed again but without any humor. “Great.”

  “Well, he promised he had some really trustworthy people he was going to have keep an eye on Jack. I presume he means that nobody’s supposed to know they’re watching. Loose cordon.”

  “That makes me feel better,” she admitted. “Because, nasty as I was to you this morning, I started having qualms. I still don’t believe the bomber would be foolish enough to approach him, but my beliefs and reality haven’t always agreed.”

  “Nor mine.” He fell silent while their dinners were slammed down in front of them and Mavis refilled their coffee mugs.

  Darcy reached for a fry, wondering where this got them. At least she had apologized, but the situation with Jack hadn’t changed.

  “I’ll be honest,” Alex s
aid before he even touched his plate. “I’m not only worried that the bomber might come after Jack for stealing his thunder, as it were. I’m worried about Jack himself. Here’s his big chance to work with the ATF, maybe the only one he’ll ever have, and I don’t trust him not to attack this in ways he shouldn’t. What you asked of him was clear. But if he takes it further...”

  Her heart sank a little and the potato stuck in her throat. She had to reach for the glass of water this restaurant still offered without being asked, something she’d long since forgotten had once been common. After she swallowed, she asked, “You don’t think he’ll follow instructions? I just told him to keep denying the story.”

  “Right. But you didn’t really limit him any other way.”

  “Is he crazy?”

  “No. Just eager and young. While you studied explosives and detonators, I studied psychology, Darcy. Young men his age have very little sense of consequences. Their brains are still growing. They’re daredevils, and only with experience does that overgrowth of brain get trimmed by the experience of consequences. Why else do you think the military wants to get them at eighteen? They’re damn near fearless and they don’t worry about what’s going to happen next. Ready to be molded.”

  Darcy looked down at her plate. She needed to eat. She had to eat. Funny how little appetite she suddenly had.

  Alex sighed. “Look, we came for dinner. Eat. I’ll shut up about all of this until you’re so full you groan.”

  For once she didn’t feel her hackles rise at being told to do something. Sighing, she took a bite of sandwich and began to eat indifferently. Fortunately for her, after a few mouthfuls both her appetite and sense of taste returned.

  When they finished, Alex suggested she come over to his place. “Better than that damn motel room, unless you want to fall asleep right away.”

  Full of good food, her desire for sleep had faded. Besides, she was discovering she liked talking to Alex as much as she liked looking at him.

  At his house, he brought a plate of cookies into the living room and asked if she wanted a beverage of any kind. “Call it dessert. I have some Tia Maria if you like liqueurs.”

  “Tia Maria sounds wonderful. It’s been years since I’ve had any.” Indeed, she’d almost forgotten it existed.

  “I keep a small stash for guests.” He smiled. “Unfortunately, most of my guests opt for a beer.”

  She laughed, relaxing at last, and ready to enjoy some good company. An unexpected perk on this assignment. She settled on one edge of his recliner sofa, and when he returned and handed her a glass, he sat on a facing gooseneck chair.

  She held the tiny liqueur glass in one hand, taking the smallest sip and rolling it around in her mouth. “Excellent.”

  His smile grew more comfortable. “So how do you feel about having been sent out here all by yourself? That doesn’t seem usual.”

  “It’s not. I think I told you we’re overtaxed right now. They’ll get me some help as soon as they can.”

  “They must have a very high opinion of you.”

  She sighed and stared at the delicious brown liquid in her glass.

  “Darcy?”

  “You’re a man,” she said. “Did you ever notice that it’s not the same for women agents?”

  “I heard about that ATF supervisor who was accused of sexual harassment. Is that what you mean?”

  “Not exactly. Oh, there’s still sexual harassment, but it’s not the kind of thing you could make a stink about. And to be fair, most of the men I work with are scrupulous about trying not to make female agents uncomfortable.”

  He nodded. “How many sensitivity-training courses did we attend?”

  She smiled. “Oodles. For the most part, I get treated like just another one of the guys, which is fine. And I don’t mean locker-room banter. That stuff isn’t professional in any job.”

  He nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “So it’s largely a comfortable environment for me.”

  “But?” He smiled faintly. “I hear a but.”

  She hesitated. “I really don’t want to sound like a whiner. And maybe there’s a good reason for it, but... I feel I don’t advance as rapidly as I might. As if I have to work twice as hard to get any kind of recognition. But maybe it’s something I’m doing wrong.”

  Alex leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs loosely. “If you’ve got anything working against you, Darcy, it’s not your mind or personality.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It’s the fact that you’re a pretty woman. I may be a man, but I’ve noticed it. There’s a strange kind of dynamic. I’m not at all sure it’s conscious. Maybe it’s an inherent flaw in the male psyche. No woman can be as good as me, and certainly not a pretty one. Pretty ones are supposed to be decorations.”

  She drew a sharp breath. “Wow, Alex. You’re unsparing.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t only studied the seriously ill. Human nature fascinates me. Men have a certain sense of entitlement, passed on to them by parents, by society or maybe just testosterone. Regardless, they’re better than any woman. And they may not even realize that consciously.”

  He drained his glass and set it aside. “Anyway, for what it’s worth, I don’t doubt that you have to work twice as hard for recognition. You being sent out here on your own is probably a vote of confidence from people you impressed. But it’s still a nearly impossible job for one agent. Take full advantage of the local facilities. I know Gage won’t begrudge you a single deputy, nor will Wade begrudge you his firefighters if they’re useful. Everybody in this county wants the threat identified and removed. We’re not going to get hung up on jurisdiction or gender. Believe me.”

  “That would be refreshing,” she admitted. “You’d be surprised how often we’ve been looked at as interlopers when we arrive on the scene. Even when we’ve been requested.”

  “Oh, that doesn’t surprise me at all.” He shook his head. “I’ve been resented by the very people who asked for our expertise. Feds aren’t popular, most places.”

  Surprisingly, she felt her lips tilting into a smile. “Thanks.”

  He looked at her glass. “More Tia Maria?”

  She decided she could do with one more. “Unless I need to drive right away.”

  “You don’t need to drive anywhere. The sofa is always available. Just relax.”

  This time he brought the bottle and topped off both of their glasses.

  Something else had been working on her, and the alcohol must have loosened her inhibitions a bit. “The bicycle killer. I’m so sorry he ruined your life, too.”

  “He didn’t exactly ruin me,” he said, his voice a bit steely. “I’m still here. Those little girls...” He let his voice trail off and closed his eyes.

  “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I’m sorry.”

  “Ah, hell,” he said quietly. “Why wouldn’t you mention it? I worked on a lot of cases, but that one...that one was beyond anything. If I could have, I’d have probably killed the guy with my bare hands when he was caught. No, I do not exaggerate. I’m not given to violent impulses. Not before him anyway.”

  He rose as if he couldn’t hold still. Moments ago he’d been relaxed. Not now. Darcy wished she’d zipped her lips.

  All of a sudden he halted, reached into his hip pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open and showed her a photo of a little girl with blond ringlets. “My daughter, Hally, at the time. Same age as most of those victims. She fitted the profile, too.” But then he flipped the photo over and she saw a young woman dressed in a formal gown. “That’s Hally going to her first prom last spring. She’s sixteen now.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  But then he flipped the wallet and showed her the little girl again. “She’s the reason I couldn’t keep my distance, my objectivity. The photos of the miss
ing little girls would come in, and I saw Hally. When they found the bodies...I saw Hally.”

  “Oh, Alex...” She felt her heart beginning to rip in two and her eyes heated with unshed tears as she truly began to comprehend the nightmare he’d lived.

  “I drove my wife crazy. I wouldn’t let Hally go anywhere alone, not even the trip to school. She used to ride her bike, just like the other little girls. I put a stop to that. I put a stop to a lot of things, like trips to the playground. My wife understood some of it, but it became a real burden, me inflicting my fear on them. Perhaps needlessly, because this creep was operating a couple hundred miles away. But I insisted anyway. Then there were the nightmares. Night after night, I’d wake up shouting. The last straw was when I grabbed my wife in the throes of a dream and left her bruised. She threw me out. Understandably.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Darcy whispered. She couldn’t imagine how terrible that must have been for him. Couldn’t begin to touch upon the fears for his daughter that had haunted him, the crimes that had haunted his nightmares until he became violent in his sleep.

  “I became the danger to my family,” he said. “I have only myself to blame. I should have made them pull me off that case the instant I realized I was losing my separation. But I didn’t. I wanted that guy caught more than I’d ever wanted anything. It was like a bloodlust. The fact that it worked, that I was a major part of stopping that guy... Maybe it was worth the price. No other parent had to lose their little girl to such horror. But maybe I could have achieved the same thing without crossing the line.”

  Suddenly he squatted before her and took her hand. “Darcy, don’t ever lose your objectivity so much that nothing matters more than catching your bad guy.”

  His grip was warm, his palm and fingers calloused. At first, as that simple touch began to seep through her like hot honey, stirring yearnings she’d kept buried for a long, long time, that’s all she noticed. Then she realized what he’d just said.

  “Do you think I lost my objectivity with Jack?” Fear ran icy fingers up and down her spine, dispelling the magical moment of growing desire.