What She Saw. Rachel Lee

he was opposed to silence, but a little friendly conversation seemed in order. He wanted these guys to cooperate, if possible, but at the very least not to get into his way. Unless they turned out to be part of the problem.

      “We have roadhouses,” Micah said, as if that explained it all. It probably did. “You must have broken up a few drunken brawls in your day.”

      “Plenty.”

      “Cowboys coming in off the range are pretty much like soldiers on a pass. These days, cowboys aren’t often on the range.”

      “Times are bad everywhere.”

      Micah nodded. “Not getting any better, either. Too many folks trying to drown their sorrows.”

      The sheriff arrived in about fifteen minutes. A man who appeared to be somewhere in his late fifties, with a burn-scarred face and visible limp, entered the office wearing a light jacket, jeans and his badge clipped to his belt.

      He paused, looked at Buck. “What’s up?”

      “Well, that’s what I’m trying to find out,” Micah said. “Got a complaint from someone that this guy seemed to be bothering Haley Martin. According to him he wasn’t bothering her.”

      “Have you talked to Haley?”

      “Not until I figure out what’s going on here. Rankin’s pulling his background right now.”

      “And you needed me for?”

      “Well, I thought you and me together in a quiet office might get a little further. I get the feeling there’s something we need to know.”

      There were a couple of ways to take that, but Buck decided to take it favorably until he had reason to think otherwise.

      That was when Rankin looked up. “Holy cow,” he said.

      “What?” the sheriff asked.

      “This guy’s for real. I mean, really real.”

      “Would you like to explain that?”

      “You want the list of medals or the job description?”

      The sheriff took a printout from Rankin and led the way to an office in the back. Buck followed with his coffee, waiting to see how this played out. Every muscle in his body was coiled and ready. He’d seen corruption in local law enforcement before, and trust wasn’t his strong suit.

      For now, though, everything seemed on the up-and-up. The sheriff’s office was small. The nameplate on his desk, identifying him as Gage Dalton, Sheriff, looked as if it had taken more than one tumble to the floor. A computer filled one corner of the desk and a stack of papers the other.

      Gage sat behind it, and Micah and Buck took up the two chairs facing it, while Gage scanned the printout. A moment later he handed Buck’s IDs back to him.

      “Okay,” he said. “You’re former CID. Plenty of commendations. Plenty of blanks, too.”

      Buck said nothing.

      “Being former DEA myself, I know about those blanks. They don’t worry me much. So maybe you’d like to explain to Micah and me why someone would think you’re harassing Haley Martin and what you’re doing hanging around in my town.”

      Buck hesitated a moment longer, glancing toward Micah.

      “SF,” Micah said, referring to Special Forces. “Retired.”

      “I wanted to scope things out a bit more before I came to you,” Buck said frankly. “I don’t know much about what’s going on right now, but something is, and I wanted to have some feel for who might be involved before I go shooting off my mouth.”

      “It looks like the time for that is past,” Gage said bluntly. “You’re the stranger here, and you just got some unwanted attention. We can make your life easy or hard. Your choice.”

      “I’m worried about Haley,” Buck said. “Among other things.”

      “Why would you be worrying about somebody you hardly know?”

      “Good question. I asked myself that same thing. It remains, I’m worried anyway. Old instincts die hard.”

      “So explain,” Gage said.

      Buck explained. He gave them his boss Bill’s name, he told them about the shipment problem, he pointed out that Haley had seen something unusual in the parking lot, that Ray shouldn’t be dead, and that he was seriously concerned that something was happening here that could endanger her if someone thought she knew too much.

      “You could have just told us to keep an eye on her,” Micah pointed out.

      “Sure. And then everyone would know the cops smelled something wrong and I might never find out what’s happening with those shipments.”

      “Are you sure you’re not just dragging her in deeper?”

      “Nobody knows I’m investigating except my bosses. Everyone would think I was just hanging around because of Haley. At least that was the plan. A lot of guys would hang around because of her.”

      “So she’s your cover.”

      “Yes. And I tried to reassure her about it, but that didn’t seem to work. Which I can understand. But I tried. I didn’t want her to think I was actually stalking her.”

      “Backfire,” Micah remarked.

      “Clearly,” Buck agreed.

      Gage drummed his fingers on the desktop. “Apart from this being totally unconventional, was your master plan to follow Haley around until you figure something out?”

      “Well, I need an excuse to hang around until the next irregularity occurs. Then I’ll follow the second truck to see where it’s going. If I can. At the very least, I have to confirm that shipments are being switched here. That’s my official task. What happens after that…” He shrugged. “Let’s just say I might want to know where the other truck is going.”

      At that Gage leaned forward. “If you find out, you’re going to let us know. Right? You’re not going to take the law into your own hands. Not here.”

      “I’m not allowed to anymore. I get it. But as everyone keeps pointing out to me, this is a small, tight-knit community. How many people around here don’t know every single one of your deputies by sight?”

      Gage and Micah exchanged looks.

      “He’s got a point,” Micah remarked.

      “He damn well does.” Gage leaned back, grimacing faintly. “I’ll agree on one point, Mr. Devlin—”

      “Buck.”

      “Buck. Okay. I’m Gage. I agree with you on one thing. This seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to unless something illicit is being shipped in some of those containers. Illicit and worth considerable money. There’s no point in it otherwise. And maybe you’re right about Ray talking a little too much about coming into some money. Around here that would get attention.”

      “So did his anonymously-paid-for funeral.”

      Gage disagreed. “That doesn’t fit with the rest of the story.”

      “Unless the Listons are in on this somehow.”

      “It’s possible,” Gage said after brief reflection. “That family has been dirt poor forever. They might be willing to do almost anything to make ends meet.” Then he shook his head. “Only one problem. In all their lives, they’ve never done one thing wrong.”

      “Except for that scrape Ray got in right after he graduated,” Micah said.

      “Alcohol and tough words don’t mix well,” Gage remarked. “I’ve seen worse sins in my day. He paid for it.”

      From Buck’s perspective, it was interesting to hear how well