by Marlow Kelly
Eva’s light brown eyes lit up. “Tim.” She stepped around the counter and threw her arms around him.
He returned the hug. “I wanted to tell you I was sorry to hear about Frank.”
She nodded as she led him to a booth by the window. “Me, too.”
He sat with his back to the door. “I couldn’t make it to the funeral.”
“I understand.” She grabbed a crumpled tissue from her pocket and dabbed her eyes.
Tim gave her a minute to collect herself. He was uncomfortable being in the presence of such heartache, but at the same time he understood. In Afghanistan, he’d lost friends, comrades, and a lover. Besides, this wasn’t about him.
“You got a busy day ahead?” Eva tried to smile as her lips trembled.
“Yeah, I took yesterday off and have to make up the time. You hear about Ben?” He might as well get the inevitable gossip over with. “Your uncle thinks I did it.”
“Why?”
“Does he need a reason? I’m sure if a stranger died in Mongolia, Booley would find a way to blame me.”
She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes again. “Uncle Levi’s always been good to me.”
He wasn’t sure if she was sniffing because she’d been crying or because she, too, disapproved of him. “Ah, well he’s not my uncle, is he?”
****
Dana spun her truck into the diner parking lot. Her eyes were gritty, and her head throbbed. She hadn’t slept last night. The idea of shadowing Morgan made her uneasy. It wasn’t that she considered herself to be in danger… No, she couldn’t think like that. She had to be on alert. This was a man who was responsible for at least one woman’s death. And he had admitted, in front of witnesses, he was dangerous.
She’d lain awake, wondering if this assignment crossed the line from trailing to harassment. But what if he had killed Ben North? She was duty bound to investigate. She would tail him today, see what she could learn, and reassess tonight.
She climbed out of her rusted, forest green Chevy truck. First thing on the agenda was coffee. There was nothing suspicious about a cop grabbing a cup at the local diner.
She slammed through the door and strode to the counter. The diner was a long rectangle with the counter and door at one end. Booths lined both sides, which meant every seat was near a window. A wide isle stretched down the middle, giving patrons and wait staff lots of room to maneuver. Eva Bryant sat in a booth next to the door, her eyes red-rimmed, probably from crying. She bent forward, revealing her ample cleavage. Tim Morgan sat opposite. Dana could only see the back of his head and was unable to gauge his reaction to Eva’s display.
Dana stiffened. She didn’t like the idea of Eva and Morgan being involved. It wasn’t right. Eva was a widow who had recently lost her husband. She was hurting. Morgan on the other hand was a devastatingly handsome man who probably had his pick of women. It wasn’t surprising that a snake like him would horn in on Eva. Dana watched the couple while she waited to be served. All was quiet in the diner, making it impossible not to overhear them.
“You know I’ve always been attracted to you,” Eva purred.
Morgan inched back, distancing himself. “Don’t.”
“Why not? We’re two unattached adults.” Eva’s swollen eyes hindered her attempt at seduction. She was trying to be sexy, but her runny mascara coupled with her pinched, tired appearance made her seem sad, lonely, and desperate. Dana couldn’t help but pity her. Eva was heartbroken. Unfortunately, there was no cure for grief.
“Because you’re hurting, and Frank was a friend. I can’t do that to him or you.”
Maybe Morgan had some scruples after all.
“I’m tired of being sad and lonely. I want to forget, just for a little while. Can’t you do that for me?” Eva was pleading with Morgan to have sex with her.
Dana couldn’t say why she was so shocked. Timothy Morgan was the quintessential bad boy wrapped in a very fine exterior. From personal experience, she knew his type drew women by the dozen. She had her own string of failed, impossible relationships, mainly because she was only attracted to sexy men like Timothy Morgan.
Morgan crossed his arms. “I understand, but it can’t be me. Although I do know someone who can help you.”
Dana gasped. He was pimping Eva out.
Eva sat straighter in the booth. “Who would that be?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I’ll pick you up here at noon.”
From her spot at the counter, Dana could only see the back of his head and the left side of his face, but she could tell he was smiling. The slimy jerk.
“Sounds like a date, honey,” Eva purred.
Dana tried not to gag, but the thought of Morgan introducing Eva to one of his sleazy friends turned her stomach.
He stood, grabbed his coffee cup from his table and threw some money down. There was no sign of surprise at her presence. He must’ve known she was standing there, listening. “Hello, Officer Hayden. You’re up early.”
He squeezed past her as if he had no choice but to get too close and invade her personal space when, in actuality, there was plenty of room. Butterflies danced in her stomach, and she had an overwhelming urge to inhale his scent. Damn it. Of all the men in the world, why did she have to be attracted to him? She had enough doubt about her abilities. She didn’t need him added to the mix.
He smiled down at her. His gaze started at her hiking boots and slowly rolled up her body, taking in her jeans, cotton T-shirt, and old leather jacket.
“I could say the same of you.” She glared at him, hoping to convey some of the hostility she felt and none of the attraction.
“I have to get an early start.” He stepped back and then shoved open the door.
“Do you have a long way to go?” She doubted he would reveal his plans, but it was worth a shot.
He stopped, one hand on the door, and turned toward her. “I’m not leaving Montana if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I wasn’t.”
He wasn’t going to tell her, not that it mattered. She would trail after him. She just couldn’t act as a policewoman once she was out of her jurisdiction. She made herself meet his gaze, not wanting to back down. His eyes shone gold in the morning light. She’d never seen eyes that color before. She didn’t want to stare but couldn’t stop herself. He looked at her with an intensity that threatened to burn her insides. It was impossible for her to turn away. Once again, those traitorous butterflies danced in her stomach. No, this couldn’t be happening. She refused to be attracted to the man who had done so much damage to herself and her family.
“Like what you see?” He tilted his head to the side. A dark lick of hair fell over his forehead.
She stepped back, resisting the urge to brush his hair back in place. “And what is it I see?”
“Yesterday, I was the son of a ranch owner and an innocent man.” His golden eyes were hard and cold.
She straightened. She was a cop not a teenage girl. She wouldn’t moon over a man, especially when that man was a suspect in a murder investigation. “And today?”
“Today, I’m a feed salesman and still an innocent man.”
“The jails are full of men who claim to be innocent.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” He walked out, allowing the door to slam in his wake.
“Damn.” There was no time for coffee. She ran out of the diner. Morgan was just pulling out of the parking lot as she climbed into her truck.
She put her phone on speaker, threw it on the passenger seat, and hit Xavier’s number. “Hi. It’s me,” she said when he answered. Gravel spewed from her tires, and she gunned the engine, following Morgan’s black truck.
“Hey, Dana.” He sounded tired, not surprising given he was on call twenty-four hours a day until Ben’s death was solved.
“Did Ramirez find out any more about Tim Morgan?”
“Yes, he emailed me the information this morning.” The sound of finger’s tapping on a keyboard echoed down the line. “Morgan�
�s father has Alzheimer’s. He’s in Shady Pines Care Facility. It’s expensive.”
“Who pays?”
“Timothy Morgan.”
“How can he afford that?”
“He can’t. He has a separate account set up to deal with Jack’s expenses, and he has power of attorney over his father’s estate. Ramirez spoke to Morgan’s personal banker. It seems two years ago he sold off all the livestock and equipment from the ranch to pay for Jack’s care, but all the money is gone.”
“So maybe he wanted to sell that fancy six shooter that shot Ben. Do we know how much it’s worth?” Dana pictured Ben’s body lying flat on the floor, the gun by his side.
“I’m not sure. I did a quick Internet search. If it’s a limited edition, like everyone says, then it could be worth as much as ten thousand dollars. We’d have to get an expert to look at it to know for sure.”
“I suppose the exact amount doesn’t matter.” There was something off about the body and the gun, but without access to the reports from the crime scene technicians it was hard to make a reliable determination.
“What do you mean?”
Dana realized she was gaining speed and eased up on the gas. She didn’t want to get too close. “It’s what Morgan thinks, not the real amount that matters. If he thought it was worth a fortune, then he might kill for it.”
“I get what you mean. If he thought it was worth nothing, then why bother? Besides, the gun could have nothing to do with it. The banker seemed to think Morgan was going to sell the ranch. It’s worth millions.”
She passed the red brick post office. Trees lined the front parking lot, which was empty. She pulled her mind back to the case. She’d driven past the gate to Wind Valley Ranch as a child and knew the land stretched for miles. “Not if there’s a mine right next door.”
“Depends on what type of mine goes in. And maybe the company that owns Ben’s mineral rights also owns the rights to whatever is beneath Morgan’s land. If that’s the case, then he’d want the deal to go through,” Xavier reasoned.
“But if he just wants to sell the ranch, then he could’ve killed Ben to delay the court case.”
“I never thought of that.”
“So what we have is a man desperate for money, who could’ve killed for the gun, or because he wants to sell his land to a mining company, or because he just wants to sell his ranch and needs to delay Ben’s case.”
She cleared the town. The road now curved through the wilderness. The forest was so dense it was impossible to see anything beyond the evergreen trees that lined the road.
“So you’re saying he has motive to spare,” Xavier said.
Dana smiled. “Your words, not mine, but yes. Although there is one thing that bothers me, why did he leave the gun there? If he was prepared to kill for it, he would’ve taken it with him. Did Ramirez say anything about the medical examiner’s report?”
Xavier tapped his keyboard. “Nothing yet.”
“It’s probably too early.” Dana kept Morgan in her sights. Her cell connection would soon drop out, and there was nothing on this road for an hour, just the evergreen forest and the occasional lake that ran parallel to the highway.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?” Xavier’s voice crackled down the line.
“I want to know the cause of death and what the white powder was on Ben’s face. It’s the only thing that doesn’t fit. Look, I’m going to lose you. I’m on the Hopefalls Highway heading east towards Granite City. I’ll call when I reach civilization.
“Sounds—” The line went dead.
Dana pressed the disconnect button on her phone. One of the reasons she’d relocated to Hopefalls was its isolation. Never had she imagined she would be following a dangerous suspect on a lonely stretch of road carved out of the wilderness. She shuddered. Someone like Morgan could dump her body out here, and she would never be found.
No, she was a cop. She was trained and resourceful. He would not intimidate her, and he would be brought to justice.
Chapter Eleven
Tim pulled his black Ford onto the shoulder, waiting for the old green Chevy to catch up. The pretty cop had been stalking him since Hopefalls. Every now and then, when the sun hit her head, he got a glimpse of short, wavy blond hair. He thumped the steering wheel. Damn it all. He had enough going on without the Hopefalls PD hounding him. He wasn’t sure how to react to Dana Hayden. She was obviously suspicious of him, not surprising given his past. And he knew she had been listening to him at the diner. He’d seen her reflection in the window as she stood at the counter, hanging on his every word. She looked different out of uniform. Her tight-fitting jeans accentuated her shape.
He got out of his truck and stood in the middle of the road. There was no way he would put up with this shit. She rounded the bend and slammed on her brakes. He held his breath, hoping the beat-up old truck wouldn’t hit him.
She was out of the truck the moment it stopped. Weapon aimed at his chest, she marched toward him, her hand trembling. “What the hell are you doing?”
He raised his arms in a show of surrender. “Why are you following me?”
“What makes you think I’m following you?” She gave a slight nod as if agreeing with him while her words said the opposite. Finn had once told him that a suspect’s body language said more than their words. In Officer Hayden’s case, it seemed to be true. Something in her gaze told him she didn’t want to shoot him. She had the look of a cornered animal. She was anxious, but not scared…exactly. This was something else. Her breathing seemed labored, coming in small gasps as if she were having a panic attack.
“How’s Logan? He had quite a scare yesterday.” He tried to change the subject to one that was less likely to get him shot.
“I’m not going to discuss my son with a suspect, even if you did save him from a bear.”
“You’re welcome, by the way. You know, normal people would thank the man who saved their child from a horrible death. They wouldn’t point a gun at him.”
“Do you have a weapon?” Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.
“I have a Beretta 92 A1 locked in the glove compartment of my truck.” He smiled, trying to reassure her.
She glanced at his waist. “Not on your person?”
He shook his head “I have a concealed carry permit for the gun and for my Ka-Bar, although I hardly ever hide the knife. It’s on my belt.” He turned to the side so the sheath and hilt were clearly visible.
“Why do you carry a knife? Most people would be happy with just a handgun. Having both is overkill.”
He shrugged. “It’s a handy tool. Very useful when I’m working at the ranch.”
“And when you’re not there?” She still hadn’t lowered her weapon, but she seemed more centered, in control.
“It stops trouble before it begins. When people see a big-ass knife on your belt, they think twice about messing with you. You don’t get the same reaction with a gun. Any idiot can pull a trigger, but not everyone is trained to fight with a knife. Besides, it’s way too easy to kill someone with a gun. But I’m guessing you know that.”
She flinched as if she’d been slapped. She’d killed someone. “Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Trained to fight with a knife?” She took a step forward. She was way too close for his liking.
“I was a Ranger, remember? We’re trained in hand-to-hand combat.”
“Give me one good reason to believe you didn’t kill Ben.”
He sighed. “Because I have no motive.”
“Actually, I can think of three reasons.” Her hands shook, causing the SIG Sauer to wobble.
“Three? How the hell could I have three?”
She ignored his question. “You’ve been guilty for a long time. Now it’s catching up with you.” And that was her real motive for harassing him. She couldn’t convict him of killing her aunt, so she would follow him hoping to charge him with another murder.
“Lady, you’ve
completely lost touch with reality. In fact, you couldn’t tell the difference between the truth and your own crazy fiction if it walked up and kicked you in the shins.” He stepped forward and snatched her SIG out of her hands. His left hand held her at arm’s length. Using his right hand, he pushed the button to release the magazine from the handgun. It clattered to the ground. He straightened his trigger finger so he wouldn’t shoot himself and then slid the handgun down his side, catching the notch for the sight on his belt. The action racked the cartridge, ejecting the bullet loaded in the barrel, rendering the weapon useless. Then he shoved it at her.
She clasped it, her mouth hanging open.
“Shooting me is something we’ll both regret.” He stalked back to his truck, praying she wouldn’t put the SIG back together and shoot him before he had time to drive away.
Chapter Twelve
The wind blew across the flat prairie fields of north central Montana. Dana’s stomach rumbled as she watched Morgan make his way across the dusty, gravel parking lot, heading back to his truck. He hadn’t stopped for lunch so neither had she. It was now late afternoon, and she could feel a headache forming behind her eyes.
She’d called in her report to Booley, letting him know Morgan was aware of her presence. The police chief wasn’t fazed. He seemed to enjoy hearing about their confrontation. Of course, she left out the part where he’d disabled her weapon with one hand. And she would never mention her panic attack. Once again, she questioned her fitness for the job. What if the circumstances called for her to shoot a suspect? Would she be able to? Most cops went their whole careers without killing anyone. Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of those cops. And it wasn’t as if she could discuss her concerns with Booley. He was just waiting for an excuse to fire her.
The chief’s biting laughter still echoed through her mind. Why he should find it funny that Morgan had caught her tailing him was beyond her. The fact the suspect had made her so easily should have troubled him. She was out here alone with a man they believed had murdered his neighbor. Booley should’ve recalled her for her own safety, if nothing else.