Undercover Hunter. Rachel Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ “that this place has a great hot water heater. I was tempted to indulge.”

      Hank’s smile widened. “I like my hot showers. I figured other folks would, too. It’s a big tank.”

      “Then I’ll enjoy the next one longer.”

      Cade spoke. “Hank was just saying that they’re running another search party today. He’s got to leave shortly.”

      “That’s so sad about the boy,” DeeJay said. What else could she say?

      “This creep better hope I don’t get to him first.” Hank’s face hardened. “Preying on the weak...I have no tolerance for it. None.”

      DeeJay could sympathize, but given that they were officers of the law... She glanced at Cade, wondering whether to let it pass. Before she could speak, however, he did it.

      “You know, you’ve got a pregnant wife,” Cade said.

      “I know.” Hank’s face relaxed. “I won’t turn into a vigilante. But sometimes you wish...”

      “Yeah,” DeeJay agreed. “Sometimes you do.” And they were supposed to be travel writers, so she steered the conversation. “Are you planning to rent this place to people who come here to ski?”

      “I might. Still need to do some work if I go that way. I rented it most of the summer to a couple who came out here to work on the resort. They’re supposed to be back in the spring.” He paused. “You going to write about this kidnapping in your article?”

      DeeJay shook her head. “I’m sure it will all be solved. No, we’re here to get to know the town a bit and pump up how this could be a great resort.”

      “Good,” said Hank, pushing back from the table. “This place has suffered enough since the semiconductor plant closed. We need more jobs and a better economy.” Then he flashed a smile. “We’re friendly folk here. Usually.”

      DeeJay smiled. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. That Mavis at the diner is something else.”

      “Wait till you meet her mother, Maude. Mavis is still batting in the farm team.”

      * * *

      They left the house a short while later with tablet computers in cases that also allowed them to carry small paper notebooks, pens and business cards. Handy little designs, suggesting they were serious writers. Also serious cops, but image was everything.

      “The diner,” said Cade. “I’ll call Gage from there and find out when he can see us.”

      DeeJay climbed into her side of the car. She closed the door and waited until he had the engine running. “I hate being unarmed,” she remarked.

      He glanced at her. “Are you going to tell me you couldn’t turn almost anything into a weapon?”

      “Can you?”

      “I’ve had to get inventive a few times.”

      “Me, too,” she admitted. “But it still feels odd to be on the job without my service piece.”

      “Yeah.” He pulled away from the curb and started down a street that was finally beginning to show some pavement. “Must be warming up. So if you don’t mind me asking...?”

      “Depends,” she answered shortly.

      Here came the bristles again. He decided to ignore them. “Why Wyoming? I hear you were with some big MP unit in investigations. Most of the kinds of cases we get out here will probably bore you to tears.”

      “I’m not bored right now,” she pointed out. “And I’m not an adrenaline junky. What about you? Are you bored? Why didn’t you stay in Denver? At least I heard it was Denver.”

      She had turned it right back on him. She was as quick as she was evasive. Part of him was amused, and part of him argued that they had to find some trust to stand on if they were going to get through this. Trust in one’s partner was essential.

      Time to take the bull by the horns. “Look, we’ve got to work together. That means we have to be able to trust each other. You don’t have to like me. I don’t have to like you, but damn it, DeeJay, we’ve got to find some ground to meet on apart from the case. You have to believe I have your back and vice versa.”

      “Do you?”

      Her answer made Cade angry. So that’s how it was going to be. Wouldn’t help anything, but they’d have to work around it. Then, just as they parked in front of the diner, she spoke again.

      “My last commanding officer screwed me out of my career.”

      He froze. “Why?”

      “Because I insisted on pushing a sensitive rape investigation. My performance report reflected my inability to follow orders. By the time he got done, I was lucky to resign honorably.” Then she climbed out of the car and marched into the diner.

      A half minute passed before Cade followed. Well, that explained a whole hell of a lot. And he heard more behind it. He would have bet the farm that the CO had simply been the final straw.

      The place was crowded when he stepped inside, mostly younger men who were talking about the day’s search party. DeeJay had somehow claimed a booth by the window, and he slid in across from her. The place was jumping, filled with voices, clattering crockery. He heard worry in the voices, but he heard anger, too. These men were ready to take the law into their own hands.

      He looked across the table at DeeJay and saw her knuckles were almost white as she gripped the menu. She felt it, too, and was wondering what they could possibly do to help tone it down. Nothing. Not a thing. He could see her reach the same conclusion. He pulled out his cell phone and called the sheriff. He got the dispatcher, a crusty old crone with a froggy voice. “Tell Gage the writers are at the diner, but it might be wise for him to show up here pretty quick.”

      DeeJay surprised him. “Good call,” she said.

      The place was a cauldron, and it was getting ready to bubble over. Mavis swung by, dumping two cups and filling them with coffee before hurrying on. Breakfast was apt to take a while.

      Then it happened. A male voice, right at the end of their booth, loud and challenging. “You those writers? You going to make yourselves famous on our problems?”

      DeeJay barely looked up. He gave her credit for that. “We don’t write that kind of stuff.”

      “No?” The guy leaned in. “Then what kind of crap do you write?”

      In one smooth movement, DeeJay slid out of the booth and faced the guy. She was almost as tall as he was, and in that instant Cade glimpsed the MP, someone who could walk into a rowdy bar and take control.

      “No,” DeeJay said firmly, loud enough to be heard in much of the suddenly quieting diner. “We want to make your town look good. As long as you don’t give me a reason to feel otherwise. Now we’re both real sorry about the missing boy. But we’re travel writers.”

      Cade enjoyed the show. It wasn’t her words—it was her tone of voice and the way she stood. СКАЧАТЬ