Suddenly, she realized she hadn’t found out much about Dallas. What she did know was important, but she hadn’t gotten to know him nearly well enough to explain these feelings. He might be heroic, but when the crisis was over, would he be content to spend his nights off watching a movie and eating popcorn? Joining a couples’ Bible study? Did he believe in God on the surface, or was it a deep, lasting faith? She knew from her own family that faith had to come from within, as the duties of the job often kept police officers from attending church services. God, I don’t understand what all of this is about. Is it over now? Does that mean I won’t see Dallas again? Why did you bring him into my life?
Kira collapsed on the sofa in the waiting room. She heard the door open again, and watched Dallas go back into the examination room.
Dallas waited until Kira had stopped pacing and sat down in the waiting area before he returned to the morgue, where the investigator, medical examiner and Kent were discussing Mickey’s death. Dallas asked to see what evidence they’d bagged from the crime scene.
The police investigator held up a clear bag. “His wallet was cleaned out and dumped at the end of the alley.” Kent held it up to the light and examined it while the next piece of evidence was handed to Dallas. “We found this in the very bottom corner of the bill slot. Whoever cleaned him out was thorough. His driver’s license and the wallet were several hundred feet away from each other. We’re still trying to figure out why they left it behind.”
Kent studied the scrap of paper through the plastic. He pulled out his cell phone and took a close-up photo of the numbers scribbled on the corner. “Whoever killed him wanted the body identified,” he said without emotion. “It’s my guess they’re sending a message to their other dealers.” He drew out the word dealersas if he’d thought of a new angle on the investigation. “Give us a few days before you release this to the press. I have a hunch I’d like to follow. And be sure to let me know what you find on the prints from the wallet.”
“Sure thing,” the investigator responded.
Kent signed some paperwork and they joined Kira.
“Do you know any of Zelanski’s contacts?” Dallas asked Kent as they walked back to the car.
“Say, I’m starved. You two mind if we stop for a bite to eat?” he said instead of answering.
“No-o-o, thank you,” Kira said, in as polite a tone as she could muster. “But you can get something if you want.”
They pulled through a fast-food restaurant to get Kent supper on their way back to Fossil Creek.
“So anyway, we were working on Zelanski’s dealers,” Kent finally replied. “We were getting close, and then Zelanski disappeared off the radar. We’d catch a clue, follow the lead, and then he’d vanish again.”
A few minutes later, Dallas merged onto the interstate. “Sounds like Zelanski made your informant.” He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers as the Denver traffic came to a standstill.
“That’s what we thought,” Kent continued. “It had been quiet for a few weeks, then last weekend he was back in business…same cell number, but we couldn’t ever find him. We’re working with the Drug Enforcement Administration on the case.”
“That was after we uncovered his supply, right?” Dallas asked. “Maybe he wasn’t calling anyone because the meth hadn’t arrived.”
“Well,” Kent said hesitantly, “we have another hunch about that, too, and this homicide fits right in with that suspicion. The newer shipments of meth coming through the region are higher quality, which is putting a real crimp in the market. The dealers are getting complaints from their users about the diluted stuff. They want the high grade meth.”
“This wasn’t a meth kitchen, right?” Kira looked to Dallas. “I mean, I didn’t see any of the usual signs of a meth kitchen.”
Kent interrupted. “New restrictions have put a crimp in the production of meth. This case we’ve been building brings the purest stuff in from labs along the Mexican border. They use Mexican nationals to bring the drugs into the United States. We’re right on the interstate, so it’s a direct route, and the nationals easily blend in with the population in the area.”
Kira was beginning to follow their thinking. “But that doesn’t explain why Mickey was after me. I don’t have anything that would matter to him.”
Kent picked up on another idea. “That’s true, but you know where Betsy and Cody are, and who knows how much they know? Looks like we need to visit with Mickey’s girlfriend and the children, see how this news hits them.”
“It’s also possible that Mickey was calling his mules to warn everyone that he’d be late on his delivery. He’s on the run, trying to keep his supplier happy while he pulls together the cash…” Dallas was thinking out loud. “He’s getting panicked that he can’t get the dope to his runners, to get the cash. He doesn’t want to tell anyone that the DEA has his merchandise.”
“I think there’s more to it than that. We had him connected to Raul Sorento drug kingpin of the Rockies. A few weeks ago, someone intercepted Raul’s shipment as it left Nevada. I suspect you found the shipment. Mickey’s edgy and Sorento’s been a little cranky ever since. He’s got his thugs running all over the place, trying to find his supply. This is the second death we can connect to him this week.”
“Let’s go talk to Cody as soon as we get to town,” Dallas insisted.
“Wait a minute,” Kira exclaimed. “It’s almost ten, Dallas. By the time we get to the ranch it will be midnight. We can’t barge in there now.” She let out a loud yawn. “I can go get Cody and Betsy in the morning. Now that Mickey’s gone, they need to be back in their own school.”
Dallas turned his head momentarily, since she was in the back seat. “Did Cody ever tell you what started the fight between him and Mickey?”
“No.”
“So where is he, exactly?”
“On our aunt and uncle’s ranch on the Colorado-Nebraska,” Kira announced. “Too far away to head out there now.”
Kent vouched for the fact that they weren’t going to see Cody tonight. “I can’t imagine anyone who doesn’t know the way finding the place, especially at night,” he stated. “We know where it is, and I’vegotten lost going out there.”
“Tomorrow then, we need to talk to all of them.”
“I know, I know. I’ll get them back here.”
Traffic on the interstate was slow moving, with frequent long stops due to overnight road construction. Even as midnight approached, there wasn’t a break in the line of cars. Kira found herself dozing off, waking occasionally to hear Dallas and Kent in nonstop conversation. But despite her efforts, she couldn’t stay awake.
She slept until Dallas pulled to a stop in front of her parents’ house. Her brother helped her out of the car, and she realized what a disaster her evening with Dallas had been.
“Kira,” Dallas said, leaning across the seat. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she murmured, feeling more than a little disappointed about the way the evening had turned out, even though it wasn’t ever intended to be a date. “Sorry we missed dessert.”
“Save me a piece of that chocolate cake. Your brother told me it’s worth the wait.”
She smiled. “I hope he didn’t say anything stupid while I was napping back there.” Now she felt like a teenager. “Thank you again for coming tonight. I know how difficult it was to tell me about what happened.”
“It was time I move on to the next step. Hey, thanks for a terrific dinner. I’d come in to thank your dad for picking out a great steak, but it’s late and he’s probably asleep by now. Next time I see him, I’ll be sure to thank him myself.” Dallas raised an eyebrow. “Just think, once all of this is settled, we can go out to dinner in a restaurant, like a normal couple.”
Kira’s heart skipped a beat. “Sounds good. Drive carefully going home, Dallas.” She watched until his tail lights faded away. Kent did say something stupid.
She turned and ran into the house after her bro
ther, coming to a sudden halt when she discovered her parents were still awake. “Hi,” she said, feeling like a guilty adolescent. “Dallas thanked you for picking out a great steak, by the way.” She smiled. Despite the emotional evening, she felt lighter than a cloud.
“Hi,” her parents said in unison, sounding suspicious.
“So Mickey’s really out of the way, huh?” her dad asked.
She hit the ground faster than a bolt of lightning. The smile faded from her heart as the reality of a cop’s world returned. “Yep, he’s history,” she told them, unable to hide her relief.
“Kira,” her mother scolded, “a man was just killed!”
Kira stared at her in disbelief. “I didn’t mean that to sound so irreverent, but he did threaten me….”
Kent hid a smile. “Change the subject,” he whispered from the side of his mouth.
Kira felt as if they were ten years old again, lined up for an inquisition as to who ate the dessert Mom had just prepared for a dinner party. “And you, mister, what did you say to Dallas while I was asleep?”
His mouth twitched, and she knew not to believe a word he was about to say. He shrugged. “I just reminded him that we have plenty of shotguns, in case he had thoughts of breaking your heart. He asked if we had plans for Memorial Day weekend, mentioned a huge cake and punch.”
Kira rolled her eyes, and her parents’ shock was almost worth the bad joke. “He’s kidding.”
“Better be,” Dad grumbled. “I barely met him.”
Her mom’s eyes lit up. “I didn’t even get a chance to talk to him. I thought this was some official meeting. It was a date?”
Kira took a deep breath and smiled. “No. It was business, but I wouldn’t mind if he did ask me out on a real date. And back to business…Since Mickey’s out of the picture now, we have more questions to ask the children. I’m going out to get the kids from the ranch in the morning, so I’d better get some sleep.”
“Want me to drive you out there?” Kent offered.
“That poor car of yours would fall apart on the dirt roads. Thanks, anyway, I’ve had enough excitement for one week.”
“I want to know what you find out,” Kent hollered as she ran up the stairs.
“I’ll think about it,” she teased.
Chapter Thirteen
THIRTEEN
Dallas reported to school the next day, totally unprepared to be greeted by the flirtatious receptionist. “Hi, Officer Brooks.”
He looked up from his desk, terrified to think what she was doing in his office. “Morning. What can I do for you?”
“I talked to the principal after you left yesterday. Once he heard there are problems with security, he changed his schedule, and he’s available now. I left you a message at your house last night. Didn’t you get it?”
He frowned, wondering how she’d gotten his unlisted number. “Tell Mr. Davidson I’ll get my notes and be right there.”
He hurried down the hall, tearing his mind from Kira and the Zelanski case. After barely five hours of sleep, he was already wishing that final bell would ring.
Last night hadn’t gone at all as he’d hoped it would. He’d wanted to know more about how Kira was feeling. How she was coping with the anxiety. Now, thankfully, Mickey was no longer a threat, but Dallas was too much of a realist to believe that whoever killed Zelanski wouldn’t eventually come looking for the same things that Mickey had been after.
Dallas glanced at his watch. He had an hour, hopefully uninterrupted, before the first bell rang. He talked fast, explaining his concerns to the middle-aged principal. Issues related to school violence had changed in recent years, and Dallas was prepared for his concerns to be brushed aside by someone with more experience in schools than he had. Besides that, staff at smaller schools tended to think they were less likely to be affected than inner city schools. Recent history was proving that theory wrong, too.
Mr. Davidson leaned back in his chair and nodded. “I’ve tried to address these concerns at teacher meetings. Things get better for a week or two, and then everyone lets them slide again. Brad was strong with the students one-on-one, but he didn’t like to crack down on anyone after he’d made friends. He seemed to think he knew the community well enough to realize if there were going to be issues. Can’t count on that these days, either.”
Dallas didn’t want to share his experience with school violence, but neither did he want to repeat it. Not every school had an Alek in it, but with the increase in traumatic events, he wasn’t going to take his chances. “Mr. Davidson, I don’t want to discredit the way things have been done here before. Times have changed, and unfortunately, we need to be proactive in our approach. Even then, there’s no guarantee.” He opened the school’s crisis manual, wondering how Mr. Davidson could ignore the facts. Tragedy could happen anywhere. All it needed was opportunity.
Principal Davidson shook his head. “We’ll make the changes, but I want you to be prepared for an uphill battle. The parent accountability board had complaints about being inconvenienced when they come to volunteer or to attend parent-teacher conferences. I can’t imagine how they’d feel if something did happen because they didn’t want to walk a little farther. We all caved to the pressure. It wasn’t any one person’s fault. Common case of the squeaky wheel gets the grease.”
“Glad to hear we’re of the same opinion on that.” Dallas had half the battle won. “We need to know who is in the building at all times, and feel confident that we can keep our eye on who’s coming and going. The best way to do that is to use one entrance, but if that isn’t possible, we need to make sure office and custodial staff, security cameras or teachers are monitoring everyone coming and going.”
“This exit here has always been the biggest challenge,” Davidson said, his finger on a blueprint of the school.
Within the hour, they had evaluated the layout of the building and agreed to direct all students to use just two doors during the school day. Traffic from the six outbuildings would have to funnel to those same two doors, south and west.
As the bell rang, the principal was adding the change to the announcement list. He said he’d watch and make sure someone was assigned to each door, to remind students to use the proper exits and not let anyone in through emergency exits. Signs were made and posted.
Dallas felt positive about the changes and wondered if it was more than a coincidence that he had found a job in Antelope Springs. God certainly had been pushing him to get back into law enforcement somehow. The security positions he’d considered after his treatment would have been a huge mistake. He realized that now. There was no way he could have settled for calling in the police and standing down until they could take over.
He stood near the main entrance, ignoring the faces as students walked past. The kid who liked to work in Brad Johnson’s office stopped and waved his hand in front of Dallas’s face, like tourists did to the guards at Buckingham Palace.
“Hey, Brooks, how’s it going?”
Dallas froze. He thought he’d made it clear the day before that he wasn’t here to be buds.
“Earth to cop,” the youth said with a goofy grin that looked something like a Jim Carey impression.
This wasn’t a prison, Dallas realized. “Morning, Tucker.” It wouldn’t kill me to lighten up a little,he thought. “How’re you today?”
The teenager shrugged. “Not bad. Homework is done—” he waved his spiral notebook in the air “—and the tardy bell hasn’t rung yet.”
Dallas felt his lips twitch and a chuckle escape. He glanced up at the clock. “With thirty seconds to spare, even.”
Tucker took off running. “Later, Brooks!”
Dallas shook his head as the clusters of teenagers disbursed instantly, seconds before the bell rang.
By lunchtime he’d received two complaints from parents about the locked doors, resulting most likely from the stack of tardy slips the reinforced policy had generated. Dallas noticed an additional half-dozen commendations from
teachers and other staff. Not bad for the first day, he thought. Next week he’d plan a lockdown drill. Just because the year was almost over didn’t mean they were out of the woods. It was no time to get lax on safety.
As he turned to go back into his office to return phone calls, he saw Kira and Cody walk through the front doors.
“Afternoon,” Dallas said to them both, noticing that Cody appeared to have gained ten pounds, and looked great. Kira looked as tired as Dallas felt. “I kind of thought you’d call,” he told her.
She gave him a half hearted smile and shook her head. “I was going to wait until after school, but we got away earlier than we expected and here we are.” She was obviously tense after the drive. As many times as she’d had to move Cody and Betsy from home to home, doing so was no doubt getting old.
Dallas tried to read what the kid was thinking and what Kira had told him. “Let’s go into my office,” he murmured. As they walked down the hall to the small room that held his desk, a file cabinet and a couple of chairs, Dallas made an effort to break the ice. “Hi, Cody, how is it going?”
“What are we doing here? I thought we weren’t coming back to Antelope Springs. Officer Brooks, tell Miss Matthews that me and Betsy need to get away from this town. It ain’t nothing but trouble for us. We don’t even have our own things here anymore. And Mickey’s going to find us for sure if we’re back here.”
Dallas looked at Kira, trying to hide his shock. “Sit down, Cody. Miss Matthews, here’s a chair for you.” He closed the door and leaned against the desk.
“Cody,” Kira said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t explain everything to you without Officer Brooks present. We’re working together to figure where might be the best and safest place for you.”
Cody jumped to his feet. “You’re sending me to juvie?”
“What?” Kira dropped her bag and held out her arm to block the doorway. “No. No!” She apologized for her bad choice of words. “We’re going to find a good, permanent home for you and Betsy. Honest. I know what you are going through, and I’m not going to separate you two. I promise.”
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