Truth And Consequences. Lenora Worth

maybe a battle was about to begin. These men were desperate and dangerous.

      Whitney glared at him, her breath coming in huffs. “You should have stayed out of this. They know you. They’ve seen your face. That’s why they turned around. They have to eliminate any witnesses.”

      He inhaled and stared through the bushes. “Yes, they saw my face when they came close to shooting me the first time. I’m trying to keep you from going after them because they know you now, too.”

      Whitney struggled to find footing, his words sobering. “I don’t need your help. I mean it. Let me go.”

      When they heard hurried footsteps, they stopped arguing.

      David glanced at her, relieved. “That’s probably one of your patrol officers coming to check on us.” Then he gave her an imploring stare. “You heard those men. They’ll keep coming. To deal with this problem.”

      Whitney had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t referring to the other bags of heroin.

      * * *

      “You shouldn’t have interfered.”

      David glanced over at the woman who’d practically forced him to get into her vehicle earlier so she could take him in to give a statement and look at mug shots. After she’d been confronted by the same two men a second time, both Whitney and Chief Jones had decided now would be a good time to identify them.

      After they’d both been checked over by the EMTs at the scene and she’d gone over the details with Chief Jones and handed over the suspect’s handgun and the torn fabric from his pants as evidence, David had been questioned. Then she’d brought him to the police station, where it seemed the whole rookie team had gathered for some sort of briefing.

      David had noticed at least five other K9 officers, four men and one other woman, plus several older officers milling around. For a small-town department, Desert Valley sure had a lot of willing law enforcement personnel right now.

      And they’d all checked him out in one way or another.

      He’d glanced at mug shots for what seemed like hours. He’d also described what he’d remembered about the symbol he’d seen on the license plate of the SUV. “It looked like an arrow, pointing up. And feathers. Three or four, maybe, dangling down.” There was something else, but he couldn’t remember what he was missing.

      “We get a lot of that around here,” Whitney’s fellow officer, Eddie Harmon, had said with a shrug. “And we don’t have an artist on site to sketch it out for us.”

      “I saw a tattoo on one of the men’s arms,” Whitney had told David and Eddie. “Could be the same.” She’d glanced over at a tall female officer with short brown hair who had an Amazonian-type build. “Louise, maybe you can do some research on tattoos for us, based on the description.”

      “I’ll see what I can find,” the woman had replied.

      David had gone back to searching the mug shots, but he was glad Whitney had verified what he’d seen. Maybe it was some sort of cartel symbol or a popular Southwestern tattoo.

      But he couldn’t match any of the faces in the books to the two men who’d caused all the trouble on the train. Now he wondered if they’d both disguised themselves.

      “Go home, Godwin,” the chief, a tall man with a paunch and thick gray hair, had finally commanded. “And stay home and rest tomorrow morning. You look a little beat up, and I noticed you’ve been favoring that left leg.”

      Whitney had frowned, but she hadn’t argued with the man. Instead, she’d made a couple of phone calls and seemed anxious to leave the station.

      After the two hours or so they’d spent together, she’d also offered to give David a ride to the nearest inn. “It’s on the way,” she’d explained. “So get in and don’t argue with me.”

      Now back in the squad car with her, and refusing to apologize for coming to her aid, David said, “I was trying to help. There were two of them, and they’re obviously ruthless. They might have killed you if I’d left you there.”

      “But I’m a trained officer,” Whitney replied, her blue eyes popping fire. “I could have handled it.”

      “You’re also a rookie,” David said. “And Desert Valley isn’t exactly a large town.”

      She stopped the car in front of the Desert Rose B and B, which seemed to live up to its name. The big Victorian house was painted a blush pink and surrounded by rosebushes. “How did you know I was a rookie?”

      David realized he’d made a mistake. But he’d learned to listen and observe during his years on the front lines. “I...uh...heard you talking back at the train station, to that other officer—Eddie. I think he was teasing you about it.”

      Which was true. David had witnessed how the older officer’s teasing seemed to rub her the wrong way. To change the subject, he said, “Let me have a look at your hands again.”

      “My hands are fine,” she said, her expression full of fatigue.

      “Let me check,” he said, his gaze moving over her.

      She reluctantly held out her hands.

      “You should have let the paramedic bandage these scratches.” He reached for her, taking her right hand in his so he could turn it over and look at her palm. In spite of being tough, she had delicate, graceful hands. “Hard to see your wounds in this light, but you need to wash these scratches and cuts with soap and water and make sure you flush all the embedded dirt and rock out. And if you don’t have some antibacterial ointment, you need to stop and get some.”

      “Okay.” She pulled her hand away, wincing. “Okay, I’ll take care of it. I have soap and I have ointment.”

      “And stay off that ankle. It might be a light sprain. You need to—”

      “RICE,” she interrupted, impatient with him. “Rest, ice, compression and elevation. I know the drill, Doc.”

      David tried to get her to open up. “I guess you’re used to slamming bad guys against the rocks, huh?”

      “Not really,” she admitted. “Only in training up to now. But I got in a lot of quality experience today, I guess.”

      “You were amazing.” He meant that. He was still in awe of her.

      Her suspicious stare mellowed to a confused scowl. “Eddie Harmon—the officer you heard teasing me earlier—is totally harmless and probably doesn’t even realize he’s insulting me. He likes to pick on me since I’m one of the few female officers around here. And he’s not much help with an investigation. He’s been on the force for thirty years, and I think he’s not really into chasing anyone or solving anything. He hates even issuing tickets.”

      Glad he’d distracted her, David nodded. That older officer was a fine one to talk. “Explains why he left the scene before the rest of you did. If anything had happened to you—”

      She shook her head and gave him an aggravated glare. “He likes to get home in time to have dinner with his wife and kids. Your overly protective attitude is kind of chivalrous but I told you, I had it covered.”

      “And I told you, I wasn’t about to leave you there.”

      “Would you have left a male officer?”

      David glanced at her, hoping to make her understand. But she had him on that one. “Okay, probably yes.” Then he shrugged. “But I would have called 911 regardless.”

      “But because I’m a rookie and a woman, you felt the need to rush in and help me. Don’t do that again.”

      Wow. She sure had a chip on her shoulder. Seemed she also had a lot to prove.

      “It’s not in my nature to leave a woman alone when she could be in danger. I’m not sorry I stayed.”