Conard County Witness

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Conard County Witness Page 12

by Rachel Lee


  After they left the sheriff’s offices, the wind snatched her breath. “When is this warm-up promised?” she asked.

  He laughed, sounding more like himself, and ushered her hurriedly into the car. “Let’s get those clothes and boots.”

  But just before she climbed in, Lacy felt the back of her neck prickle. Helplessly, she looked quickly around, trying to see who was watching, but saw nothing, except a man in a car some distance away with a map held up and spread out.

  She was imagining things again. Would this never stop?

  * * *

  The hunter watched from just half a block away. He held a map up to shield his face as an extra precaution. He wished he could find out what business they’d had with the sheriff. That little note of his? Nothing useful in that. Any decent lawman would laugh Jess out of the office for being concerned about it, and Jess must know that. So what had they been there about?

  Too damn cold, he thought again, although he prided himself on being able to withstand the elements. Still, it was too cold to risk taking any action, that woman seemed to be stapled to McGregor’s side, and he doubted he could park far enough away and safely make the trek to the house in the dark without running into trouble from this damn cold wind. Even if he did, when he arrived he’d be so bundled that his motion would be restricted, putting him at a disadvantage.

  Besides, he hadn’t finished planning, and the woman had thrown a wrench into the works.

  He cussed under his breath and pulled the ski mask back into place. At least around here, today, wearing one wouldn’t draw any attention. Not that there were many people about on this frigid day. Even the locals had evidently decided it would be safer to stay inside. Then, using the cold as an excuse to keep his head down, he walked to the corner and looked around. He saw McGregor’s vehicle at the department store.

  But his leg and hip were aching again. He hadn’t come through that final operation unscathed himself. The cold penetrated until with each step he felt every shattered bone and torn muscle he had all over again. You never healed. Never.

  But once he was done with Jess McGregor he could head back to warm, sunny climes and resume his career.

  The pain had advantages, though. It reminded him of why he was here and why he wanted to silence the man. A wounded vet shouldn’t have been treated the way he’d been treated, questioned as if he had done something criminal when he hadn’t. Three men had survived, three men who could remember that day, and while none of them had said much about it, questions had been raised. He needed to put it to bed for good, to ensure no witnesses ever came forward to ruin him.

  But they’d put the hunter through hell and could do it again if anyone opened his yap. So far no one had really said much, and McGregor had never known the full story. He was just a medic, and what would a medic know? He was going to learn it now. Learn it in a way he’d carry with him to the grave the hunter planned to put him in. He was going to savor every moment of the man’s shock when he learned the truth. He was even going to enjoy the moment when McGregor admitted he’d been no judge of the situation. And then he was going to kill him. Should’ve been dead, anyway, four years ago.

  But there was still that damn woman. She’d have to be dealt with, too, if she didn’t leave soon. The hunter had learned patience, but it wasn’t infinite. While he savored the fantasies of how he could use her, he wasn’t going to let her interfere with his primary goal.

  Take out McGregor. Everything else was secondary.

  First he had to play out his little cat-and-mouse game. It might even make the woman leave.

  But it at last occurred to him how he could hide himself in that house and gather more intelligence.

  Chapter 8

  Jess seemed withdrawn when they got back to the house. He’d bought her the snow pants and boots he’d insisted she would need, and Lacy figured she was well prepped for an Arctic climate. She hardly cared at this point. The house was plenty warm, especially after he added some more wood to the stove. It was cozy indoors, and right now she felt almost safe. Even the feeling that someone was watching had vanished the instant they entered the store.

  No, she was worried about Jess. Something had happened to him at the sheriff’s office, and clearly it still troubled him. He didn’t mention it, though, and she didn’t know whether to pursue it. He was so right that they were still strangers in many ways. She didn’t want to tread where she wasn’t welcome, but she wanted to help in some way. The haunted look in his green eyes disturbed her as much as her own fears ever had.

  She went to the kitchen to make cocoa, figuring he probably still needed some calories, and brought him a mug. Once again he was seated on the rocking chair, this time rocking back and forth slowly but steadily. Working something out in his head, she guessed. Maybe she should just sit quietly.

  Eventually, he was the one who broke the silence. “Lacy?”

  “Yes?”

  “What did you mean about numbers never lying, always being reliable?”

  “Well, they are, aren’t they? An equation will come out the same every time you run it. Add up numbers and the total is always the same. If something is out of whack, it’s because someone did something wrong.”

  His gaze turned to her. “You trust them more than people?”

  The question startled her. What was he driving at? “Most of the time, yes. They’re predictable.”

  “And they don’t lie. That’s what you said.”

  She nodded, wishing he knew where he was taking this. “I guess I like things neat and tidy.”

  “Why?”

  Taken aback, she hardly knew how to answer.

  “Did something happen to you? Or were you always into numbers?”

  In that moment it all became clear to her. He thought her love of numbers had its roots in something sinister. Some bad experience. She opened her mouth to deny it, but something held the words back. Finally all she could mumble was, “I don’t know.”

  He smiled faintly. “I didn’t think you would. Just like I don’t know what kicked me into that episode this morning.”

  “It was pretty bad,” she admitted.

  “Yeah, it’s been years since I had one like that. Where everything just receded as if I were caught in another place and time.”

  She hesitated, then asked, “Do you think me being around is a problem?” Because she was a huge reminder of Sara. Funny she hadn’t thought of that when she’d agreed to come racing out here for her own protection. Not a thought of what it might awaken in him in terms of grief and loss. She’d been selfish.

  “You weren’t even in the room,” he said quietly. “No, it was something Gage said, and I’m not sure why it hit me that way.”

  “What did he say?” She desperately wanted to know, wanted to listen and maybe help. Sara’s ghost might still stand between them, possibly in ways she hadn’t even begun to imagine, but there was no escaping the fact that in a very short time she was coming to care about Jess in a different way. Jess apart from being Sara’s husband. Jess the man.

  He sighed and stopped rocking. After a few beats, he turned in the rocking chair so that he was facing her more directly. “I haven’t been entirely straight with you. So maybe you were right to trust numbers more than people.”

  She stiffened. Her heart slammed in her chest, then leaped to high speed. All of a sudden she couldn’t seem to get enough air. “Jess?” Her voice came out reedy.

  “Remember when we stepped out so you could see how the cold was? That envelope on the porch?”

  She’d forgotten it, thinking it was his personal business, dismissing it entirely. Only now did she recall how it had been under that piece of gravel. Her mouth began to dry out and unease crept along her nerves like a million ants. “Jess?” she said again.

  “It was an anonymou
s note. All it said was I found you. The game’s on.”

  She couldn’t breathe. She absolutely could not find air. But then anger hit her so hard that she erupted from the sofa. She could breathe again, breathe well enough to raise her voice.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” In the quiet house, her voice sounded way too loud but she didn’t care. A sense of betrayal began to darken her heart. “I trusted you!”

  “I know.” His eyes remained fixed to her as she began to pace. He didn’t speak, didn’t defend himself, didn’t try to soften what he had done. He had kept critical information from her and right now if he’d tried to explain or apologize she would have erupted like a volcano.

  No words could take back what he’d done. For all she knew, some killer was out there stalking her right now, and he hadn’t told her? Had even taken her to town as if nothing was going on?

  Then it struck her. He’d gone to the sheriff’s office. He hadn’t treated the note as if it didn’t matter; he just hadn’t told her. Which infuriated her, but then some objective little voice in her brain asked the all-important question: What difference would it have made?

  They had been caught in the midst of a storm, and it was still so cold out there that exposure was dangerous. She was safer with Jess than she would have been at home in Dallas by herself. And how could anyone have found her here that fast?

  At last she faced him, putting her hands on her hips. He was still watching her, an almost preternatural stillness about him. When she spoke, her voice had leveled out. “Explain what you were thinking. Please.”

  “Somebody would have had to ride that bus with you to locate you so fast.”

  She couldn’t deny it, but she wasn’t satisfied even though her anger ebbed a little. “So?”

  “So if someone were after you, how many opportunities did they have on your way here from Dallas? How many little towns did you stop in? How many times did you get off the bus to eat or get coffee? Any one of those stops was an opportunity. Why wait until you were here with me and then announce himself with a note?”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me.” Although, in a way, it did. Even she had to admit it. Why get her stirred up over something so vague? “So you just dismissed it?”

  “Hardly. Where did we go this morning?”

  The sheriff. The balloon of her anger began losing air. Slowly, very slowly, she perched on the edge of the couch again. “Talk to me, Jess. I want to be able to trust you.”

  “I’m not sure you should. I may have dragged you into danger.”

  “What?” The second blow in just a few minutes hit her hard, but not as hard as the first. Apparently she still had enough adrenaline in her system to fortify her. Besides, there was something else. Something in the way he looked, something about that flashback he’d had. Was he trying to tell her he was the one at risk?

  God, what a coil. Helpless, frustrated, upset and worried now about him as well, all she could do was wish he’d lay it all out in one piece like a list. He hadn’t dismissed the note as unimportant. No, he’d gone to the sheriff with it. Okay. He hadn’t told her about it because he couldn’t see upsetting her needlessly. She could even understand that now. Why set her on edge without a good reason? Would it have made any difference if they had discussed this last night? Not really.

  “Just don’t hide things from me again,” she said finally. “And will you just tell me what’s going on?”

  “The truth is, I don’t know what’s going on. The envelope might have wound up there by accident. The wind was blowing hard enough to push the gravel on my driveway around. That thing could have landed there. It makes no sense by itself. If you weren’t worried about someone being after you, it would have ended up in the trash and been forgotten.”

  Also true. She sat there wondering vaguely if she was going to have a total meltdown when the last of the adrenaline washed out of her, or if she would just calm down. At least to as calm a state as she could achieve since she’d become involved with drug dealings. “How is it you may have put me in more danger?”

  “I don’t know. Honest to God, I don’t know.”

  Now frustration was replacing the waning anger. “For heaven’s sake, Jess, this is no time to clam up. Just talk. Ramble if necessary. This has something to do with that flashback, doesn’t it? Well, talk to me!”

  He wiped a hand over his face. “You already know most of it. I took that note to the sheriff. It’s vague enough that by itself it’s no threat, but he could understand why you’re concerned. He told you that, right? He’s going to look into it.”

  “I got that. But something else happened.”

  “Yeah.” He paused. “He asked me if I had any enemies.”

  She sucked in a short, sharp breath. “That’s what hit you?”

  “Like a ton of bricks,” he admitted. “Bam, I was back in Afghanistan. Nothing about what I remembered gave me any clue as to why, but it must mean something. And if the sheriff was right, that if I have an enemy, then you couldn’t have come to any place less safe for you on the planet. So maybe you should get back on that bus.”

  The word left her lips before it even formed in her mind. “No.”

  Now his voice grew tight. “This is no time to be foolishly brave.”

  She answered just as tautly. “And this is no time to hightail it. We don’t know what’s going on, if anything is. If you could take on my fears, then maybe I can help just by being here. One person alone is a much easier target.”

  He stared at her for several beats, then a crooked, humorless smile touched his lips. “The buddy system.”

  “Exactly.” Maybe she was losing her mind. She’d fled Dallas seeking safety, and now that she might have planted herself in a truly dangerous situation, she was going to dig in her heels?

  She told herself it was the least she owed to Sara’s memory, but that was a delusion and she knew it. This had gone beyond Sara, to something that had grown in her for Jess. He’d opened his house and life to her to give her sanctuary, and now she owed him something, as well.

  Besides, while she had left Dallas because she’d been offered a break from looking over her shoulder constantly, the simple fact was that she had a stubborn streak too wide for her own good. If she hadn’t, she would have found a way to take herself out of the center of the case the Feds had built against her own employer. She could have refused to testify. She’d certainly given them enough on paper that they could have continued without her.

  But she’d gotten her back up. She’d been mad at being taken advantage of. She didn’t like people who played games with the books. She had become determined to take the bad guys down no matter what it cost.

  Brilliant, Watson, she said to herself now. Brilliant. And here she was possibly taking another huge risk because Jess might have been threatened. Although she couldn’t imagine why.

  “What do you think, Jess?” she asked quietly. “Do you have that kind of enemy? One who would hunt you down?”

  “I damn well may,” he said bluntly. “Three tours in Afghanistan while wearing a uniform? I’d be surprised if I didn’t have a whole bunch of enemies, in general and personally.”

  “But you were a medic!”

  “So? To some people I was also an invader.” Moving as if he had stiffened up, he rose from the rocker. “I’m gonna make coffee. You want some?”

  Breakfast suddenly seemed like a long time ago. “Please,” she said.

  “I’ll understand if you want to leave,” he said as he started for the kitchen. “You have no reason to trust me now, and I may have dragged you into some serious trouble.”

  “We don’t know that,” she said, jumping up to follow. “Like you said, it might not even have been intended for this house. Besides, for all I came running to you for safety, did you ever consider that I
might have brought my trouble to your door?”

  As she spoke the words, Lacy realized they were true. For the very first time, she looked beyond her own fears and acknowledged that if she was in danger, she might have put Jess in danger. The thought pierced her so hard she almost cried out. How could she have been so blind?

  “Maybe the trouble is mine,” she repeated. “What if I brought it here?”

  “I’m not banking on it. Not now.”

  He was probably right, she thought as she watched him move around the half-finished kitchen to make coffee. Not when it had caused him to have a flashback, even if it hadn’t offered any useful information. The question had triggered some kind of reaction in him, a big one.

  She dared to ask a question. “Do you remember much about right after you came home?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. It’s all a haze basically. One day blended into another. I was full of all kinds of meds for pain, to prevent infection. A number of surgeries. No, I don’t remember much.”

  “Probably just as well.”

  “Maybe.” He paused. “But maybe I need to try to remember some of it. That last mission we were on...well, it wasn’t our planned target. I don’t know why we diverted but I always blamed it on our CO.”

  “Your commander? Why?”

  “The guy was a glory hound. Everyone knew it. Nobody really trusted him. But it wasn’t our job to question, just to do what we were told.”

  “And it ended badly?”

  “Obviously. But it wasn’t the only mission that ended badly. Not unique in the least.”

  She let it go, and watched him gradually relax a bit. Clearly he didn’t want to revisit this, and she didn’t want to make him. Besides, he wanted her to leave because he feared he was the one threatened. And if she added to that the very real possibility that the only danger here might have come with her, she had a very good reason to just move on. To protect him.

  But what if it wasn’t about her at all? Now they knew even less than they had before, and she realized she couldn’t just get on the bus and walk away, leaving him alone to face whatever was coming. The same stubbornness that had made her go to the US Attorney was reviving in her. Long forgotten, but as strong as ever.

 

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