“She’s very tired,” Anna’s mother said. “She needs her rest.”
Megan nodded. “I’ll try not to be long.”
The woman stepped reluctantly aside and let Megan pass. She reached the door of the room, knocked quietly and eased inside.
Anna looked small and pale against the light-green sheets. There were several machines hooked up to her, but her mouth was free at least. Megan stepped a little closer, and Anna opened her eyes.
“Hey,” she croaked, and Megan hurried to get closer so Anna wouldn’t have to strain her voice.
“Hi. Are you okay?” It sounded silly as soon as Megan said it. “I mean—is there anything I can do?”
Anna’s nod was almost imperceptible. Megan perched on the edge of one of the visitor chairs and leaned forward eagerly.
Anna seemed to be gathering her strength. “They knew we were coming,” she rasped.
Megan didn’t even know who they were, but she nodded anyway. “Okay…”
Anna looked impatient. “Somebody told them we were coming.” The words seemed to exhaust her, but she was obviously determined to get her message across.
Megan tried to put it together. “Somebody—” Oh. Oh no. “Somebody at the sheriff’s station? There’s a leak?”
Another barely-there nod. “Don knows.” She took a pained breath. “He’s got no one to trust. He needs help.”
“I’m happy to help, Anna, but I don’t know anything about this. None of it. I don’t think I’m the best person for the job. Should I call the FBI, or the Department of Justice?”
“No.”
“I can get Carson to come talk to you…”
“No,” Anna insisted. “Talk to Don. Don’t do anything until you talk to Don.”
Megan let that sink in for a moment. There was only one reason she could think of to keep the sheriff out of the loop. “Do you think he’s involved?” she asked incredulously. “Carson? He’s…” She trailed off. She was the one who said she didn’t know anything, so why was she arguing with Anna? She tried a new tack. “They arrested Joe, and a bunch of other guys. I got the feeling they were all Codys.” She didn’t want to ask, but she needed to know. “Did you see who did this? Was it them?”
Anna’s brows creased. “I only saw one. Didn’t know him. Not a Cody.” She was almost slurring her words. “Talk to Don,” she said. “And Joe.”
“Joe?”
“Yeah,” Anna managed. “Joe. And Don. Don’t let…don’t let them kill each other.” Her face twisted into an almost-grin, but then she was back on the job. “Talk to Joe and Don.”
Megan reached out to gently touch Anna’s arm. “I will. I promise. You need to rest, okay? I’ll talk to them.”
Anna relaxed a little, and Megan stood up and headed to the hallway. She had just opened the door when, for the second time that day, she almost ran into Carson. This time at least he was traveling a little more slowly. He peeked over her shoulder into the room, then followed Megan a few steps down the hall.
“How is she?” His voice was shaky, and his face was drawn tight and strained. He looked so worried, so kind. Megan couldn’t believe that this man could have had anything to do with the shooting.
But she wasn’t going to ignore Anna’s instructions. “She didn’t say much. And I haven’t talked to the doctor, so I don’t know anything really.”
“What did she want to talk to you about? Her mother said she asked for you specifically.” For the first time, there was a hint of something different in Carson’s voice, but he seemed more suspicious of Megan than worried about himself.
She thought fast. “I’m not sure. She was too out of it. I think maybe—she and I were talking about some legal stuff. Setting up education trusts for the kids, that sort of thing. I think she thought she was going to die, and she wanted to get that sorted out. I’m not sure.”
Carson nodded. “Do you need any help with it? I mean, she’s going to be fine, I’m sure. But if there’s something we can do to ease her mind…”
This was the Carson Megan had always known. “There really isn’t anything to do, right now. It was more of a long-term plan, you know? Nothing urgent. I think she just panicked.”
Carson seemed to accept that. “Are you going to stick around?”
“I don’t think so. Unless there’s something that you need me to do?”
“No. We’re fine.” He sighed deeply and shook his head, and Megan decided to fill in some of the gaps in her knowledge.
“What happened, Carson? How’d she get shot?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re still working that through. She and Don had gone to arrest a meth trafficking suspect. We’d been waiting forever to get federal clearance for it, and it finally came through. We had enough evidence to question him—we were hoping to shake something loose and get enough for charges. But apparently there were several people in the house, and they fought back.”
“Was it—was it a Cody house? I saw Joe Cody being arrested.” She tried to sound casual, but wasn’t sure she carried it off.
Carson snorted. “That’s just the feds, with their damned blinkers. DEA can’t see anybody but Codys being involved in any damned thing. But the guy they were going to pick up is named Karl Vickers. No connection to the Codys that we ever found.”
“But he got away?”
“Bastard wasn’t there. He went to a police station down in Billings an hour after the shooting. Said he’d gotten a call that said there were cops all over his place. Wanted to know what was going on, he said.”
Megan thought about Anna’s words. They knew we were coming, she’d said. Knew it far enough in advance for one of them to get all the way to Billings and establish an airtight alibi. “What about the people who were there? The ones who shot Anna?”
“None in custody,” Carson said, sounding as if the words tasted bad. “Yet.”
“Is there anything I can do? Anything the governor’s office can do?”
“We’ve got law enforcement from all over the state offering help, and we’ve got the feds, for all the good they are, clogging up the station with Codys.” He shook his head. “You help Anna out any way you can, Meggie.” He pulled her into a hug, and she felt his lips kissing the top of her head. “And you take care of yourself too.”
Megan watched Carson walk back down the hall to the waiting area. She couldn’t believe he was involved. Maybe that hadn’t been what Anna had meant. Megan pulled out her cell phone and dialed Don’s number. She wasn’t sure how to get in touch with Joe, but maybe Don would know. Don and Joe. Megan shook her head. What was Anna up to?
Chapter Fifteen
The road was steep and winding, and Megan wished she’d managed to rent the SUV she’d wanted. She’d gotten over the fear from her accident, but that didn’t mean she didn’t see the advantage of a bigger vehicle and four-wheel drive. She bounced over a heavy rut, and focused on following the taillights in front of her. It was pitch-black everywhere else. She could barely remember the last building she’d seen.
It had been a long day. She’d managed to get hold of Don by phone earlier, but she’d had to wait around the station for Joe to be released before she was able to talk to him. He’d walked past her without any sign of recognition after the agents had taken off his handcuffs, but she’d followed him outside and called out his name, and he’d finally turned around.
“What are you doing, Megan? Do you really think it’s a good idea to be seen with me? Now? Here?” He jerked his head impatiently toward the police station. There was no hint of gentleness in his expression, no acknowledgement that they were anything more than acquaintances.
It stung, even though it was exactly what she deserved, and exactly what she should have wanted. But she didn’t have time to analyze her reaction. “Anna told me to tal
k to you. To you and Don. I think she wanted the three of us to get together.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You, me…and Deputy Don Gallineau. Anna told you this? When?”
“I went down to see her in the hospital.”
That caught his attention. “How’d she seem? Is she okay?” He scowled back toward the building. “They wouldn’t tell me anything, and her family isn’t crazy about me, so I can’t call them.”
“The doctors say she’s probably going to be fine. She lost a lot of blood, but they got her down to the hospital fast.”
Joe let out a deep breath, and his whole body seemed to relax. After a moment, he said, “You, me and Gallineau. That’s what she wants? Why?”
“I’m not totally sure. I think—I think it’d be best to discuss it somewhere private.”
Joe smirked with just a hint of his old flirtatiousness, but his face quickly grew serious. “Okay. My place, in an hour or so. The deputy knows where it is. You can come with him.”
And so Megan was bouncing along a mountain road in what felt like the middle of the night, trying to keep up with an angry, frustrated deputy who’d had an even longer day than her, and who was going to a meeting with a man he despised.
Don was already out of the car when Megan pulled up beside him. She couldn’t see much of a building, but Joe’s truck was there, and a single lightbulb shone at the end of a dark path. That was the direction Don was heading, barely waiting to see if she was following. Yeah, he was not enthusiastic about this meeting, or about its location. “We couldn’t meet in town?” he’d asked, and Megan hadn’t really been able to answer.
This location was definitely private, though, so maybe it was for the best.
She followed along, and caught up by the time they got to a rough wooden building. It looked like an old barn. Megan couldn’t believe anybody actually lived in it. Well, maybe a homeless person, or a family back in the Depression or something, but Joe? Was he desperately poor, or even more of a backwoodsman than she’d thought?
“Stairs are around the side.” Joe’s voice came from somewhere above them. Another light turned on—not bright, but enough to let them safely find the stairs and make their way up. The structure felt sturdier than it looked. Of course, based on its appearance, she would have said it should be condemned, so her observation was faint praise.
The stairs led onto a deck, and Joe was there. Tall and strong, wearing that damn jacket that made Megan think of safety and sex. He moved toward them easily, but when he came into the light, his expression was as remote as it had been outside the sheriff’s office. Megan hadn’t really been expecting the warmth she’d felt in the forest by the barbecue, but she wasn’t even getting the casual friendliness he’d shown her in the diner.
Then again, he’d spent most of the day chained to a chair, being interrogated by the colleagues of the man Megan had just brought to visit him. Maybe Joe thought of them as her colleagues. From that perspective, she figured she and Don were lucky they hadn’t been tipped over the railing.
“Come in.” Joe opened a wooden door and led the way. He hit the light switch, and Megan almost gasped.
The room was a revelation. It was huge, running the full length of the barn-sized building, with the ceiling soaring to a peak overhead. The walls were just enough off-white to be warm, with the light color accentuating the beautiful, dark wood beams. There wasn’t much furniture, but what there was looked like good quality: a leather wingback chair by a glass-fronted wood stove, a craftsman-style desk and dining table, and a couch that was either very dark blue or black. Her gaze took in a couple of area rugs, the subdued but warm lighting and a richly colored throw tossed casually on the couch. On the wall above the couch hung a large, dramatic abstract painting, full of greens and browns and golds. Most spectacularly, the far wall was almost entirely window, from ground-level to above Megan’s head. She couldn’t see much out it, not at night, but she was willing to bet the view was spectacular. If she hadn’t had evidence to the contrary, the décor would have been enough to make Megan wonder whether Joe was gay. Surely no straight man had such a good eye.
Don was apparently interpreting the place in a slightly more negative manner. “I guess being a part-time mechanic pays better than I thought,” he sniped.
Joe ignored him. Megan was pretty sure he’d have liked to ignore her too. “Drink?” he finally offered.
Megan knew she shouldn’t. “Hell, yeah,” she said. “It’s been a long day.” A ridiculous thing for her to say. “For you guys, I mean.”
Joe gave her an odd look, then headed for the far end of the room. There was a loft above, where Megan assumed his bed was. She tried not to think about that. Underneath the loft was a modern, beautiful kitchen, with a breakfast bar providing a partition from the rest of the space. Megan followed Joe, and Don trailed along behind.
“Wine, beer or the hard stuff?” Joe asked. “I haven’t got much mix. Just orange juice, probably.”
“Scotch?” Megan asked hopefully. Joe looked at Don, who paused, then nodded resignedly. Joe pulled out three glasses and a half-empty bottle of Talisker. Megan wondered if it were possible for her to fall any harder for this man, but she tried to maintain her focus.
“Ice?” Joe asked.
“Fuck it,” Don said, and they both turned to look at him. “Just pour.”
Joe seemed ready to respond, and Megan braced herself for whatever smart-ass comment he came up with, but instead he just set the glasses down and took the lid off the scotch. He poured three glasses, then jerked his head toward the couch. “Sit?” he asked. Don and Megan obliged, and Megan was happy to see that Joe brought the bottle with him.
Don and Megan sat on opposite ends of the couch, and Joe took the armchair. There was an awkward pause before Megan said, “I don’t know what the hell is going on.”
She’d decided that she had to trust these men. Anna apparently did. And while things hadn’t gone too smoothly for Anna, Megan wasn’t willing to accept that it was because the deputy had been careless. She turned toward Don. “Anna said that when you went to arrest the guy, they’d known you were coming. She said she thought there was an internal leak. I said I could call the FBI or Justice, and she said no.” And now for the harder part. “I said I could talk to the sheriff, but she said no to that too.” Megan took a too-deep swallow of her scotch, savoring the burn. “She said I should talk to the two of you—and that I should keep you from killing each other. That is all I know.” Then, a thought came to her suddenly. “Actually—this morning, before you guys went out. She said…” Megan paused and tried to remember. “I was going over the records, and she said maybe I could find the answer in there. The reason the departments weren’t working well together. It seemed like she had something in mind, but I had no idea what. Still don’t.”
Don had been staring at her as she spoke, but Megan couldn’t read his expression. Was he surprised by what he was hearing, or just upset that it was being repeated in front of an outsider? From his perspective, it was also being said by an outsider.
He took his own deep drink, then looked over at Joe. “She told me,” he said quietly.
Joe absorbed the words, then nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Told you what?” Megan wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Joe explained. “The sheriff. I really don’t think Codys were involved with what went on today, and if I wasn’t here with you, I’d be out there making absolutely fucking sure that they weren’t. But if they were…” He glanced at Don, then back at Megan. “If they were, they might have heard about it from the sheriff. He’s been feeding them information for years now. Since he got the job, pretty much.”
“No,” Megan said, and she could hear it herself, the way she sounded like a little girl being told the truth about Santa Claus. “I mean—are you sure?”
Joe nodded. �
��Yeah. I’m sure.” His voice, even and level, made Megan believe him, even though she didn’t want to.
She swiveled her head toward Don. “And you knew? And didn’t do anything?”
Don looked uncomfortable. “I knew Joe said so. That’s all. I didn’t have any proof. And…” he trailed off, but Joe was ready.
“And he’s not a bad sheriff. Overall.”
“What? How can…” Megan wasn’t sure how to put her outrage into words. “That’s insane. His whole job is to enforce the law.”
“His job is to serve and protect,” Don said quietly. “Until the meth, we didn’t really have a problem with drugs up here. People smoked up, sure, but there was no violence, none of the peripheral issues that come with the drug trade. If the Codys had been put out of business, people wouldn’t have stopped smoking pot. They would have just found another source. Outsiders, people we couldn’t trust, couldn’t deal with.” He saw Megan’s expression and frowned. “I know. In a perfect world, I’d arrest them all. And then if somebody else moved in, I’d arrest them too, and I’d keep fighting until the end.” He glanced over at Joe. “Not because I give a shit about whether people smoke pot, but because I’m a cop. I’m a law enforcement officer, so it’s my job to enforce the law.” He sounded defiant, as if he’d made this argument too many times and been treated with too little respect each time.
The words sounded familiar to Megan. She remembered Anna saying something similar about Joe and the brother-in-law.
Wait. Damn it. Had her infatuation gone that far? Anna had said the same thing about Joe murdering his brother-in-law. It sounded ugly, but that didn’t mean that Megan could turn her head and not face the fact that Joe was possibly both a drug dealer and a murderer. Even if some law enforcement people in Shadow Valley seemed to think looking the other way was okay at times.
“The sheriff helped me out,” Joe said quietly. “Before I left. I was—I don’t know. Reckless. Stupid. I figured the town had already decided who I was, so I might as well go along with it.” He shook his head. “He caught me selling pot at school. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. But I’ve looked it up, since. It could have been huge. Could have put me away for years. And he knew that, and he didn’t want it to happen, so he let it go. He took the pot, and probably smoked it himself, the fat bastard. But he didn’t bust me.”
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