“She loves you, Otis.”
“Don’t know why.” He shook off his display of emotion with a grunt.
Neil tapped the folded newspaper beside his desk blotter. “Have you read the latest?”
“Ridiculous drivel.”
Neil took that as a no.
“What you need to do is find out who the hell’s behind the illegal mining.”
“I was thinking the same thing myself right before you walked in.”
“Any progress?”
For reasons he couldn’t explain, Neil hesitated telling Otis about the preliminary report from the geological society. Not that he didn’t trust Otis, but the fewer people who knew about the team’s findings, the better.
“Not much,” he told Otis. “The wheels are moving slow.”
“Good! Maybe we can draw this out a little longer, just until the economy in this town turns all the way around.”
“Yeah,” Neil said pensively.
Without meaning to, Otis may have hit on something. Everyone assumed the motive behind the illegal mining was to extract gold for resale on the black market. What if it wasn’t? What if the purpose was to generate interest and bring tourists to Payson? Who would have the most to gain in that scenario?
The first names that came to mind were the owners of Bear Creek Ranch. The place where the illegal mining had occurred.
Neil set that thought aside and, for the next fifteen minutes, he and Otis discussed the department and how Neil was progressing with the deputies.
“Not good, but better,” he said. “Like me, they’re laying low, waiting for you to return.”
“You can add Patty to that list. She’s plumb tired of having me constantly underfoot.”
“R.J. might be responsible for bringing the men in line. He’s been a good supporter.”
“He’s just a good man all-around.”
“You got that right.”
Otis braced his hands on the arms of the visitor chair and hoisted himself out of his seat. “I’d better get a move on. Let you get back to your lunch.”
“I’m glad you stopped by.”
“Me, too.” He surprised Neil by reaching across the desk and shaking his hand. “You’ve conducted yourself well during this mess and deserve to be congratulated. Makes me glad I recommended you to the county commissioner.”
“Thank you, sir.” The compliment touched Neil.
After Otis ambled out of the office, Neil picked up the remaining half of his sandwich and the newspaper, flipping to the editorial page. He ate on automatic pilot, his attention completely focused on the more positive letter to the editor.
At the last paragraph, he paused then reread it. The letter writer mentioned a number of Neil’s accomplishments during his year-and-a-half as deputy sheriff, including the time he’d administered CPR to a heart attack victim living in Bliss Canyon. If not for his action, the elderly woman might have died.
Neil hadn’t considered himself a hero, he’d simply been doing his duty. There’d been very little notice of the incident after it happened except for a brief mention in the newspaper that excluded Neil’s role. He’d liked it that way, having no wish to draw attention to himself.
Which told him the person who wrote this letter either had amazing resources or was there the night he’d responded to the call. That limited the possibilities to someone on the hospital staff or the other two deputies on duty that night, Hank and R.J.
If Neil had to guess the author of the anonymous letter, he’d pick R.J. Neil didn’t know whether to thank his deputy or chew him out.
Reading the letter made him realize not everything about the job of acting sheriff was bad.
His intercom abruptly buzzed, shaking him from his thoughts. “Yes.”
“Sorry to bother you, Neil.” Mary Twohorses was on the line. “Can I speak to Otis?”
“He left a few minutes ago.”
“Oh. I must have missed him.”
“Can I help you with something?”
“No, it’s all right. I have Ward Preston from KPKD holding. I’ll tell him Otis left already.”
Neil hung up, unable to dismiss the nagging feeling that had come from nowhere. Why would Carolina’s boss be calling Otis? And how did he even know that Otis was at the station? Neil tried to focus on the pile of reports but his mind kept returning to Otis and Carolina’s boss and any possible connection. Not that the two men couldn’t be friends, but as far as Neil knew, they never had been.
A few minutes later his intercom buzzed again.
“Sorry, Neil,” Mary said again. “But a call just came in, and I thought you should know about it.”
“What’s going on?”
“Carolina Sweetwater and a crew from the radio station have shown up at the illegal mining site. They’re attempting to do a live broadcast.”
Chapter Thirteen
Neil bolted from his chair and grabbed his hat off the credenza. “Call my babysitter for me and tell her I may be late. If she can’t pick up Zoey from the riding stables, let me know.”
“You got it!” Mary stepped back in the nick of time. Otherwise, he might have trampled her.
He took the old Jeep rather than his cruiser. The four-wheel-drive vehicle didn’t disappoint him. Arriving at the mining site, he parked beside the radio station’s brightly painted van and cut the ignition. R.J. and Hank were already there. From what Neil could see, they were making little headway with Carolina and her two-man crew.
The ground underneath his boots crunched as he tromped up the slope. He stopped on a level area about twenty feet away from the mine entrance and the yellow caution tape Carolina and her crew were trying to breach.
Refusing to be intimated, she stood tall and strong and fierce, a look of grim determination on her face. Her lavender skirt—lavender, for Pete’s sake—hugged her legs, making a ridiculous contrast to the green trench coat she never seemed to be without.
Quite frankly, she took his breath away.
He should have phoned her before now. Maybe then the impact of seeing her wouldn’t be having such a profound effect on him. Or maybe not. In the next instant, their gazes locked, and they engaged in a nonverbal standoff Neil doubted he’d win.
Could she and her family have staged this whole event just so she could use the reports to advance her career and the ranch could benefit from the increase in business?
No, he didn’t think so. Seeing her rooted there, ready to take on the entire sheriff’s department if necessary, he knew her motives were purely journalistic and nothing personal. KPKD might be a small radio station serving a small market, but Carolina brought a big market attitude to her job.
“R.J.,” he called. His deputy came running, leaving Hank in charge of crowd control. “Report.”
“Ms. Sweetwater insists that, as one of the property owners and a representative of the media, she has a right to be here.”
“I bet she does.” Neil reassessed the situation. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Want me to radio for backup?”
Did his deputy think he’d need it? “Hold off. See if I can’t handle her myself.”
R.J. nearly split a shirt seam laughing.
Neil wasn’t amused. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“She’s a corker, that one.” R.J. attempted to wipe the smirk from his face with the back of his hand.
How much did his deputies know about his and Carolina’s relationship? Neil didn’t know or, he realized with a slight start, care. When had his feelings on that subject changed?
More importantly, why?
“Corker or not, the law is the law.” Neil eyed Carolina.
As if anticipating his next move, she stood even taller, the flaps of her coat waving in the breeze.
Neil was more than ready for a showdown and did a little posturing himself. “By the way,” he said to R.J. before moving on, “thanks for writing that letter to the newspaper.”
“What letter?”
>
“The one to the editor. It was in this afternoon’s edition. Your support means a lot to me.”
R.J. pushed his hat back and scratched his head. “You say it was a good letter?”
“Yeah. Real nice.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“What?”
“I didn’t write that letter, Sheriff.”
Neil frowned. “I thought maybe you did. It mentioned me giving CPR to that old woman in Bliss Canyon.”
“Hank did it.”
“What?”
“He bragged to the guys about writing a letter to the paper. We told him not to. Course, that’s cuz we figured he’d take the low road.” R.J.’s face broke out into a huge grin. “Guess we were wrong.”
Neil gave his head a small shake. Hank wrote the letter? He gazed up the slope to where the deputy stood, his broad figure effectively blocking any entrance to the mine shaft.
There had to be a mistake. Maybe the letter was written by someone at the hospital. But how would anyone at the hospital know about the other incidents mentioned? Now that Neil thought about it, Hank had been on every one of those calls.
But the deputy didn’t like Neil. Didn’t respect him. He resented Neil for getting the appointment he felt had belonged to him.
“Let’s get this over with,” Neil said.
Still grinning, R.J. followed Neil up the hill. “This ought to be real good.”
About ten feet from Carolina and her crew, Neil stopped again and motioned with a small jerk of his head for Hank to join him. The deputy responded. Still built like the record-breaking halfback he’d been in junior college, he lumbered over, his features cross, his beefy hands knotted at his sides. “Yes, sir.”
Sir? That was new.
“I’d like to encourage these fine folks to leave with as little trouble as possible,” Neil said.
“Carolina won’t go without a fight.”
Since when did Hank refer to Carolina by her first name? Neil’s hackles rose, though he refused to show it. He didn’t have exclusive rights to Carolina’s first name, even if he wanted them.
“Nice letter to the editor.” R.J. socked Hank in the arm. “Way to go, pal.”
Hank’s stern features softened momentarily, then grew dark again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right,” R.J. scoffed.
“Shut up.” Hank elbowed R.J. hard in the ribs.
Neil wasn’t sure what to make of their antics. “Hank?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sir again? “Did you write the letter?”
“Well…” The young deputy faltered. “Didn’t seem right that folks were talking trash about you.”
Neil swallowed his shock. “I appreciate it.”
“I don’t always agree with you, sir, but we need to stick up for our own. If we don’t, who else will?”
“Call me Neil.” He put out his hand.
Hank shook it. “Yes, sir. Neil.”
“You two watch the mine entrance.” It was time to get this job done. “I’ll see if I can’t defuse the situation.”
“Sure you don’t want me to radio for backup?” R.J. visibly held in a chuckle. Neil couldn’t tell but he thought Hank might be hiding a smile, as well. So much for maintaining a position of authority.
“Get after it,” he barked.
R.J. and Hank strode over to the yellow caution tape barrier and positioned themselves behind it. All eyes were on Neil as he approached the group.
“Ms. Sweetwater.” He addressed her calmly and professionally. “Can I help you with something?”
“My team and I would like access to the mine for a live broadcast.” She sent him an icy stare.
He didn’t wilt. Ice he could handle. It was her fire that robbed him of his senses and turned him to putty in her hands.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Sweetwater,” he said in his best cop voice, “but this is a crime scene, and we can’t risk contamination.”
“We have a right to be here.”
“You can conduct your broadcast from the base of the slope but not here.” He could tell from her expression she hadn’t expected him to concede even that much.
“We prefer to do it from the actual crime scene.” She formed her lips into a stubborn pout.
Given the chance, he’d cover her lips with his and kiss her until pouting was the furthest thing from her mind. Unfortunately, he’d have to wait for another day. Like tomorrow. When he told her in private just how idiotic her little scheme was.
“Will it make a difference? Your listeners can’t see the mine. You could be broadcasting from the dining hall at Bear Creek Ranch for all they’d know.”
She inhaled sharply. Neil had found her hot button. The geeky guy beside her giggled, then choked when she glared at him.
“No need for you to be insulting,” she said to Neil.
“No need for you to be stupid,” he fired back. “There’s evidence in that mine that could lead to the identification and arrest of the criminals behind the illegal digging. I can’t allow you and your crew to stomp all over it.”
“We will not stomp—”
“If you don’t leave now, I’ll have the three of you arrested.”
“Just try.”
“Don’t push me, Carolina.” Somewhere along the way, Neil realized, the battle had become personal. “I’m not joking around.”
She didn’t give an inch. “I suppose that means an interview with you is out of the question.”
“If that’s what it takes to get you to leave, then yes.”
“No, thank you.” She pulled herself together. “I don’t need to negotiate for an interview.”
Her words were reminiscent of the ones she’d uttered during an earlier argument, only that one had been about their relationship.
Wasn’t this one, too?
“My men will help you down,” he said through a very tightly clenched jaw.
“We’re not leaving. Not until—”
In the next instant, a gunshot rang out.
“Take cover!” Hank shouted, and dived for Carolina’s two crew members, taking them both down at the same time. The trio hit with a loud, bone-crunching thud.
Neil didn’t think. He grabbed Carolina and tossed her to the ground, covering her with his body. More bullets whizzed past their heads. Four, five, six. Neil could hear them pinging off the rocks just above them. The blood in his veins instantly froze, and he was thrust back in time to the deli and the day Lynne died from a stray bullet.
It took all his willpower to remain rooted in the present. If he didn’t, if he let the memories get a stranglehold on him and affect his judgment, he might not be able to keep Carolina and the others safe.
“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Neil raised himself up slightly on one elbow.
Carolina lay beneath him, warm and breathing, but that was no guarantee she hadn’t been hit and was slowly bleeding out.
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“Don’t move. You hear me? This isn’t the time to argue.”
“I won’t.”
Her face, just inches from his, was stark white, and her lips trembled. Good. For once, she’d probably behave.
“R.J.?” he called.
“Over here, Sheriff. I’m fine.”
“Hank?”
“We’re all okay.”
That was a relief. The bullets had been close. Very close. They were lucky no one was shot.
Lucky, or intentional?
The gunfire had come from nearby. Just over the ridge. They should all be dead, but they weren’t.
“You want me to call for that backup now?” R.J. asked from behind a boulder where he’d taken cover.
“Yes. And everybody stay down!”
Neil didn’t have much hope the shooter would still be in the area when their backup arrived. And he’d bet when they located the spot the shooter had fired from, not one piece of evidence would be there. Not even a hair follicle.
If h
e’d had any doubts before, this afternoon had erased them. The criminals they were dealing with were professionals.
“There’s a rock sticking in my back.” Carolina shifted.
He pinned her with an arm across her chest. “I don’t care if it’s sticking in your…never mind. Don’t move until I give you the go-ahead.”
“Neil?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“That was scary.”
His heart constricted. “I know, sweetheart.” He’d been scared, too. Out of his mind. Every time he blinked, he saw the image of Lynne’s blood splattered all over the side of the building. “But he’s gone now, and you’re okay.”
“You sure he’s gone?”
“Not so sure that I’m going to let you up before our backup arrives.” He could hear R.J. radioing in for assistance and Hank attempting to calm the two crew members.
“Adrian, Miguel,” Carolina called out. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Miguel’s having a meltdown.”
“So what if I am? We almost died.”
“Yeah, but we’ll be front-page news,” Adrian answered. “Think of the publicity.”
“That’s the spirit,” Carolina answered.
“Keep quiet,” Neil ordered. “We don’t know if the shooter is still out there and what he’ll do.”
All was silent for several minutes. Neil tried to twist the upper half of his body around so he could scan the area.
“Thank you.” Carolina’s warm breath caressed his cheek, distracting him.
“For what?”
“Saving me.” She lifted her head and kissed him. Soft, sweet and tender.
Because he could have lost her today, because he’d wanted to kiss her so badly earlier and couldn’t, because everything he’d worried would happen to her had happened, he kissed her back, and to hell with what his deputies and her crew thought.
She clung to him as if this was their last moment together. Maybe it should be. Once again, his job had put a person he cared about in danger.
Unable to continue gazing into her liquid hazel eyes, he averted his head. “Your coat’s dirty.”
She seemed unaware of his distress. “A small price to pay.”
“Hey, Sheriff,” R.J. called. “I think I can make it to the mine shaft. You want me to try? I might be able to see the road. That shooter didn’t walk here.”
The Accidental Sheriff Page 16