by Karis Walsh
Rachel glanced over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps on gravel. Cal. Damn it. She gave her a get back in the truck glare before she turned back to Skunk. “Or maybe someone tipped you off that I was looking for you. If you haven’t done anything wrong, why’d you run?”
“Someone says the police are asking questions about me, seems the smart thing to do is make myself scarce.”
An honest answer. Rachel eased up on his shirt and let him stand flat on the ground. She moved closer to him, emphasizing her height advantage. “You’ve been hitting the bars pretty good lately,” she said. “Seems the smart thing to do is tell me how you’re suddenly able to afford to buy drinks for everyone you meet.”
“I earned that money,” he said, suddenly unable to look her in the eye. “I got a job.”
Not so honest. “I know all about this job of yours,” she said. “Who paid you to lie to the police about the night you met Randy Brown in the park?”
“Me? Lie to the police? Why would I—”
“Shut it,” Rachel said. “We have Randy’s cell phone. With a text on it from you, telling him to meet you in the park at three. So I’m going to ask again. Who paid you to lie and say you met him around one?”
Rachel saw his expression change when she mentioned the phone. From cocky to terrified in a heartbeat. Damn. Her ridiculous scenario was right. And Clare had been telling the truth. Rachel hadn’t truly believed either until she observed Skunk’s reaction.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in a whisper, his gaze darting from side to side as if he expected someone to emerge from the shadows. “I told the truth. Are you going to arrest me for telling the truth?”
Rachel released her hold and he disappeared into the very shadows he had been so suspicious of only moments before. She braced her hand on the side of the building and tried to deepen her shallow breaths. She felt an arm slipping around her shoulders. Cal. Rachel needed to get her out of here.
“Are you okay?” Cal asked.
“Yeah, fine,” Rachel said. She took hold of Cal’s hand and walked quickly to her truck. “Get in the truck—where I told you to stay, by the way. We’re getting out of here.”
Rachel drove quickly through the dark streets, hardly able to breathe until she and Cal were across the bridge and off the Tideflats. Jesus. She had been playing a game, no different from Cal. Moved beyond reason by Clare’s high-pitched voice, her conflicting timelines. Rachel had been feeling so isolated on the department, so alone, that she hadn’t even considered bringing her suspicions to one of the detectives working Alex’s case. Instead, she had run off on her own—with a civilian along, for God’s sake—like some renegade cop in a movie. She had expected to visit a few bars, have a few beers with Cal. Maybe find Skunk, maybe not. Mention the alleged three a.m. text and watch him deny it without any signs of dishonesty.
“You were supposed to stay in the truck,” she said as she sped along the downtown streets, snapping at Cal because she suddenly felt responsible for her. Foolish for bringing her to these hellholes. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was your backup,” Cal said quietly. She reached over and took Rachel’s hand in hers. “Rach, what does this mean? He looked very scared when you said you had Randy’s phone.”
“It means someone framed Randy. And whoever it was paid Skunk to set him up. Premeditated. Alex’s murder wasn’t an accident.”
Rachel drove up the windy road from the waterfront to the park entrance and braked to an abrupt halt by the stable yard. She got out of the cab and strode over to the gate with Cal close behind her.
“What do we do now?” Cal asked as Rachel swiped her card and opened the gate.
“Now you get in your car and drive home. Forget any of this happened. And I go home and call my superiors. The detectives will take it from here. And I’ll probably be fired.”
Cal didn’t obey. Big surprise. Instead, she traced her fingertips along Rachel’s forehead where Rachel was certain her tension was visible. Cal’s touch relaxed her a bit. Enough to make her remember their earlier kiss. Why the hell had she stopped it? Why hadn’t she taken Cal back to her apartment rather than taking her on this insane mission? She caught Cal’s hand and brushed her lips against it.
“Go home, Cal. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cal leaned forward and kissed Rachel on the lips. Even with her mind in turmoil, with her job possibly on the line, Rachel couldn’t help but respond to Cal. To the strength in her kiss, the heat when her tongue slipped into Rachel’s mouth. Cal broke their kiss and leaned her forehead against Rachel’s.
“You did the right thing,” she said. “Everyone deserves to know the truth.”
Rachel used to believe that, but now she wasn’t so sure. Exposing the truth had gotten her in trouble before, and she wasn’t under the illusion this time would be any different. She stood in place long after Cal drove away, long after she had locked the gate. She eventually felt herself shivering in the cool evening air, so she got in her truck and drove the short distance to her home. Fifteen minutes later, she hung up after spilling the entire story to Lieutenant Hargrove’s answering machine. She stripped out of her clothes, leaving a messy trail on the way to her bedroom, and slid naked between the sheets. She had done her part. Whatever happened next was out of her hands.
Chapter Ten
Rachel still hadn’t heard from Hargrove by the next afternoon. She went through her day mechanically. Jogging in the early hours, feeding horses and cleaning stalls, riding her four charges. She even cleaned everyone’s tack and rearranged the office while she waited for Cal and the other officers to arrive for their lesson.
Cal was early. She tapped on the door to Bandit’s stall where Rachel was grooming him for the fourth time that day. He was going to be bald, but at least he was accepting her touch without trying to bite her arm off.
“Heard anything?” Cal asked.
“You were supposed to forget last night,” Rachel said. She couldn’t hide her smile, though. She felt too relieved to have someone to talk to, someone who would understand how worried she was about what she had done. She knew her reputation couldn’t get any worse, and she hadn’t done anything bad enough to be fired, but she had a nagging suspicion that somehow her life was about to get even more miserable.
“I did,” Cal said. She winked at Rachel. “But I keep having flashbacks. Something about a bar, and a badass cop roughing up a hoodlum. Oh, and I remember an incredible kiss. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Rachel laughed. She picked up the saddle she had draped over Bandit’s stall door and set it gently on his back. “Let’s count the kiss as payment for our polo match. I owed you one.”
“Sounds fair. So, you didn’t answer me. Have you heard anything from the detectives?”
“No, and I probably won’t.” Rachel buckled Bandit’s girth loosely around his belly and reached for his bridle. “They’ll question Skunk. Get phone records. Whatever. No reason for me to be in the loop since I only had a hunch, but no hard evidence. I’ll find out what’s going on when everyone else in the department does.”
“So that’s it? You don’t—”
The sound of cars driving over gravel interrupted Cal’s question. She looked behind her. “Clark and Billie are here,” she said, “and someone I don’t recognize.”
Rachel stepped to the doorway. Lieutenant Hargrove. Making a barn call. That couldn’t be good. She handed Bandit’s reins to Cal and went out to face whatever was about to fly her way.
Abby Hargrove’s face looked furious, but the rest of her was as put together and polished as usual. Rachel walked toward her and couldn’t help but wonder how she managed to look so beautiful yet so ready to explode, at the same time. Hargrove started yelling before Rachel made it across the parking lot.
“I knew you were going to fuck this up somehow, Bryce. I didn’t realize you’d do such a spectacular job of it.”
Rachel saw Billie and C
lark standing near the tack room, watching the show. Don was pulling into the lot. Great. Wouldn’t want anyone to miss this.
“I’m sorry, but I—”
“No. I’m talking now. I spent the past three hours getting my ass handed to me by two captains, the assistant chief, and half the dicks from homicide. So now it’s your turn. Really, how hard would it have been for you to do what I asked? Finish what Alex started. Let Callan Lanford do the training while you kept your mouth shut and your nose clean. But no. I come in this morning and find out you decided to promote yourself to detective and start interrogating witnesses. You got an assignment every other sergeant wanted, but it wasn’t enough for you, was it? I didn’t want you here, but I set it up so a child could run this program. All you had to do was come out here and ride a horse around for an hour a day. Then go home. What do you have to say for yourself? Well?”
Rachel kept silent until Hargrove’s last word was delivered with plenty of venom and followed by a long pause. Apparently it was her turn to talk now. “Randy Brown’s girlfriend just showed up the other day. I didn’t go looking for her. And as soon as I found out Skunk—I mean Warren Albuez—was lying, I called you.”
“You think he was lying,” Hargrove said, correcting her. “Don’t you think he might have been reacting to the false information you gave him?”
Rachel felt her anger rising. She trusted her instincts and she knew Skunk had been paid to lie about his meeting with Randy. Maybe Hargrove and the rest of the detectives should give her a break and go find out who really killed Alex. “So bring him in and ask him yourself.”
“He’s gone, Bryce. Our key witness has disappeared thanks to your inept investigation. What do you have to say for yourself now?”
Nothing. Rachel kept silent. Damn, she knew Skunk had been spooked last night, but she hadn’t expected him to vanish. She’d figured he’d go home to his family, or head to the next bar.
“I didn’t think—”
“That’s right, Bryce. You didn’t think. I would love to fire you right now, or at least kick you out of this unit, but I can’t. For some reason, the brass wants you to stay. God knows why. The only thing that would make me happy right now is your letter of resignation on my desk.”
Abby marched back to her car, her posture stiff. Rachel wanted to let her go, to be finished with the scene at least for the moment, but she needed to be sure her mistake hadn’t been in vain. She had done something stupid, yes. But the information she had uncovered was still valid.
“Wait, Lieutenant.” Hargrove stopped but didn’t turn around. Rachel pushed on. “Albuez was lying, I’d swear to it. Someone planned Alex’s murder. Paid Albuez to lie about Randy. I shouldn’t have talked to him last night, but it doesn’t change the facts. You have to look at Alex, find out why he was targeted—”
Hargrove spun around. “Watch it, Bryce. Think long and hard before you start insinuating anything about Alex Mayer’s character. He was loyal to his family, his community, and this department. That’s more than I can say about you.”
Abby got in her car and spun out of the lot. Rachel could feel her officers and Cal watching her. Waiting for…Rachel didn’t know what. Was she supposed to defend herself now? Try to explain when no one ever seemed to listen? Ignore Hargrove’s visit and go on with the lesson? Rachel was out of answers, out of options. Hargrove was right. She had had her chance to be a silent part of the mounted unit. An unwanted but harmless parasite. But she had blown it.
Rachel walked over to Cal and took Bandit’s reins without making eye contact with her. She brushed off Cal’s hand and tightened Bandit’s girth before swinging into the saddle and aiming him toward the gate Hargrove had left open. Aiming for the familiar trails that would lead her deep into the park.
*
Cal had tried to stop Rachel, to make her stay, but Rachel was out of her reach and crossing the paved road leading to the ferry. She spun around and faced the unit’s officers, who were staring after Rachel with the same stunned look she herself must be wearing.
“I’ve got to go after her. Can you guys…?”
“We’ll be fine. Take Ranger,” Billie said. “I’ll help you tack him.”
Don ducked into the tack room for Ranger’s saddle, and Billie led him out of his stall. Cal fumbled with his bridle while she fumed at the three people who had watched without helping while Rachel had gotten chewed out. “I can’t believe that bitch. Rachel was trying to help, trying to find the truth. Isn’t that your fucking job? To make sure the people you arrest are actually guilty?”
Billie took the bridle from Cal’s hands and calmly slipped the bit into her horse’s mouth. “Look, I don’t know what happened last night, but our lieutenant has every right to be upset if Rachel did anything to jeopardize this team. Hargrove is the one who fought for us. She spent months trying to get approval from the city manager and the chief. She got our grant and picked our team. If we fail, her reputation is on the line even more than ours.”
Cal jerked the reins out of Billie’s hand. “Does Rachel know about that?”
The three officers exchanged glances. “I don’t know,” Billie said. She shrugged and stepped out of the way as Cal swung herself onto the chestnut’s back. “She wasn’t part of the unit during the planning stages, so probably not.”
“Well, maybe if you actually spoke to her, you could have told her about this. Warned her about how to deal with Lieutenant Bitch.” Cal stared at each of the officers in turn. “She’s out here every day working to make your unit a success. Training your horses. Ignoring her own pride and asking me for help. And you won’t even talk to her, won’t bother to find out if the rumors you’ve heard about her are true. Rachel and I should step out of the picture and let the three of you fuck up this city’s Fourth of July celebration. And believe me, without Rachel’s help, you’d do a damn fine job of it. Now, where do you think she is?”
“Go past the zoo,” Clark said, pointing in the direction Rachel had taken. He looked a little shaken, whether by his superior’s unexpected visit or by Cal’s speech. She hoped it was the latter. “There are lots of trails off the Five Mile Drive, so you’ll have to look for hoofprints to find the one she’s taken. I can get Sitka and—”
“No,” Cal said. “You’ll probably fall off, and then I’ll be searching for two riders, not one. Stay here and clean something.”
Cal wheeled the gelding and trotted over the gravel and out the gate. She had to keep him at a walk as she crossed the busy road to the ferry, dodging between cars as they waited in line to board. She didn’t dare trot him across the pavement since he still wasn’t shod for such a slick surface. The thought of him slipping and falling on the pavement—probably on top of her since she wasn’t wearing a helmet—made her keep her cool. She only hoped Rachel would do the same thing, even in her hurt and angry condition. She pictured Rachel lying on one of the paved roads, bleeding and pale, and the image made her push Ranger into a canter as soon as she was on the grassy hill leading to the park.
She had no idea what it was like to be judged and found guilty by coworkers. All her life, she’d been the captain, the instructor, the trainer. Commanding respect because of her last name and her polo skills. But she knew exactly how it felt to be judged and found wanting by her family, to always feel like her best efforts were not quite good enough. To aim for approval—or love?—and have it dangled just out of reach.
Cal dodged around the surprised-looking parents and children dotting the park. She was thankful the weather was still typical for the Northwest’s climate. Misty and overcast, still unseasonably chilly. Summer wouldn’t really arrive until July, and so the park wasn’t as crowded as it would be a month from now. Ranger cantered along as if he had done this a thousand times, ignoring the honks and encouraging shouts as people drove past him. Cal brought him to a trot on the pine-needle-strewn shoulder of the road leading to the Five Mile Drive. She hadn’t seen any sign of a horse since leaving the damp grass of the p
icnic areas. There, Bandit’s prints had been easy to see and follow, but now that she was entering the woods, they’d be harder to spot.
Cal turned off the main road when she noticed some churned-up dirt on a trail leading into the woods. She was watching the ground, searching for some confirmation that Rachel had come this way, when Ranger came to an abrupt halt. Cal pushed off his neck and back into the saddle.
“Sorry about that.” The young man she had nearly run over paused beside her, running in place. He was wearing jogging shorts and a sweaty T-shirt. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Sorry I almost took you out,” Cal said as she put her feet back in her stirrups, glad the rest of the mounted unit hadn’t seen her near dismount.
“Not a problem,” he said. He gave Ranger an awkward pat on the nose. “I jog out here all the time, but I’ve never seen horses on these trails until today. You’re the second.”
“I’m looking for the other one. Is she back that way?” Cal pointed in the direction he had come from.
“Yep. Go left when the trail forks.”
Cal was trotting off before he finished speaking. “Thanks,” she called over her shoulder. She took the path to the left and emerged into an open area. The tall bleached-wood fence around the Fort Nisqually exhibit was directly in front of her, and she veered left again and passed behind it. The living museum wasn’t open yet for the season, but there were lots of families in her way. Some of them called out to her, wanting to pet her horse, but she ignored them and kept trotting. Let the officers deal with them once they were ready to ride in public. Cal had only one objective right now. She finally made it to the back wall of the fort and saw Rachel ahead of her, heading toward the woods again.
“Rach? Stop!”
Rachel waved Cal off without turning around, but a few seconds later she had to pull Bandit to a halt as a toddler ran in front of her horse. Rachel dismounted and picked up the little boy as he lunged forward to pet the horse’s front legs. Cal rode up beside them as a breathless man arrived.