Broken Trust. Sharon Dunn

someone is brought in for questioning, and it won’t matter if the guy turned out to be innocent.”

      “Mommy, I heard voices.” Eva stood in the doorway holding her favorite stuffed bear.

      Christine swooped Eva up in her arms. “Sweetie, you are supposed to be in bed.”

      Eva pointed to Wyatt. “Who are you?”

      “He’s just an … old friend who came to ask Mommy for help she can’t give.” She couldn’t prevent the steely look she gave him.

      “What kind of help?”

      Christine rubbed noses with Eva. “You ask too many questions.” Her attempt at being playful sounded hollow. Wyatt had her so stirred up she probably wasn’t going to sleep at all tonight. “I have to put my daughter back to bed.”

      “Good, I’ll just see myself out.” His voice lacked the defensiveness she had expected. Instead, she picked up on something conciliatory in his tone.

      “Come on, Eva.” She took her daughter’s hand and led her down the hallway. As Christine settled Eva beneath her yellow quilt, she heard the door open and close. She kissed Eva and touched her sweet nose with her finger. “Now, for the last time, my dear, go to bed.”

      She closed the door to Eva’s room and returned to the kitchen. Wyatt had left the bag of frozen corn on the table. She rushed outside. He stood at the end of the stone walkway, holding a phone in his hand.

      “You can take this if it helps the pain in your arm.” His soft response had caused her to regret her own irritation.

      “Thanks, and it’ll give me something to eat later.”

      She smiled at his joke. “I didn’t mean to be so reactionary to your request. It’s just that … this is where I belong now.”

      “Don’t worry about it. I understand.” The inflection in his voice seemed to communicate the exact opposite of what he said. He was hurt on a personal level by her reluctance to help.

      “You helicoptered in, right? That was the lights we saw.”

      He nodded. “We thought that would be quicker and less noticeable than a truck that nobody recognized.”

      “So they are coming back for you?”

      He waggled the phone. “Already got a rendezvous point established. Just got to hike out there.” Again, the tone of his voice betrayed him. She could detect the hurt underneath.

      How easy it was to fall back into an old pattern.

      Why did she even care about his feelings? She let out a sigh, crossed her arms against the spring cold and said, “I hope you are able to find the little boy … but I really don’t think he’s around here. There are other sheriffs in other counties. They may have seen something.” Again, she resented the position he had put her in. Still, the thought of the little boy separated from his mom pierced through her. “Of course, as the sheriff, I am obligated to cooperate … and I will if it is needed.”

      Wyatt didn’t say anything, only pivoted and started jogging. As she listened to his footsteps fade in the distance, her emotions stirred up all over again. Only this time, she was upset with herself for the renewed intensity of attraction for a man she thought she would never see again.

      TWO

      Wyatt closed his Bible and massaged his chest where an intense ache had plagued him ever since he had left Christine’s. He had wanted to justify himself to her. To let her know that he was not the man she had dated ten years ago. But seeing the picture of Dustin with his arms wrapped around her had given him pause. She was a married woman. He questioned his motives in wanting her to view him in a different light … and knew he needed to back off.

      His partner, Samuel Cranson, opened the motel-room door and stuck his head in. “Nice morning out there. Ready to go?” Samuel was almost twenty years Wyatt’s senior and close to retirement.

      Wyatt tossed the Bible on top of his suitcase and rose to his feet after grabbing a wrap for his injured forearm. He didn’t have time to find a doctor. If he’d cracked a bone, it would mend on its own. “Let’s hope we get some kind of lead.”

      The two men got into a battered pickup that had been purchased for them at a sheriff’s sale one county over. He doubted the pickup would fool anyone. In a town as small as Roosevelt, every stranger stood out like a sore thumb.

      The plan had been made for Wyatt to try to probe Christine’s brain one more time while Samuel started questioning the law enforcement in neighboring counties. So much for easy in, easy out. Their investigation had just gone a little more aboveboard. Hopefully, though, no one would peg them as federal agents.

      The safety of the little boy was not an issue. All the reports and even the ex-wife confirmed that Emmett doted on his son. Since it had been a point of contention in the divorce proceedings, Emmett’s desire to raise the little boy with the radical views had probably prompted him to take his son. The urgency came in finding the camp before the members found out they had been located and Emmett had a chance to find a new hiding place.

      As they drove the few miles from the roadside motel into town, his thoughts returned to Christine. Ten years ago, he’d taken her for granted. He’d messed up. The better man had gotten her. Seeing her last night with her daughter was a cruel reminder of what he had missed out on.

      Their breakup had been the start of his spiritual awakening and his decision to address his own issues. The wounds from his childhood ran deep and he was far from perfect. But with God’s help, he healed one day at a time.

      Samuel lifted a finger off the steering wheel and pointed toward a squat brick building. “Sheriff’s office is over there.” He brought the truck to a stop. “I’ll call you in four or five hours, so we can update each other on our progress. Good luck.”

      Wyatt got out of the truck and crossed the street. He entered the building where a dark-haired female deputy stood beside a file cabinet with an open drawer.

      The deputy, whose name tag read Mitchell, studied Wyatt for a moment. “You’re the fed, right?”

      Wyatt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Despite their effort at blending in, something always gave them away. “Christine must have told you.”

      Deputy Mitchell pulled a file. “Sheriff Norris said you might be stopping by and that I should help you as much as I could.”

      At least that was encouraging. The deputy had been briefed, and Christine had laid out an expectation of cooperation. “Is Christine around?” He ran his hands through his dark hair.

      “She has stepped out for a moment.” Mitchell opened the file and flipped through the loose pages. “She should be back shortly.”

      “I’m right here.”

      Wyatt whirled around to see Christine standing in the doorway. The hard line of her mouth and the narrowed eyes suggested that she wasn’t happy to see him. She must have known he wouldn’t give up easily or she wouldn’t have told the deputy about him.

      Deputy Mitchell yanked her coat off the back of a chair and turned to Christine. “I’ve got a call about a fence dispute that has gotten ugly. If you want to hold down the fort, the two gentlemen have agreed to meet at the café across the street.”

      “Sure, Lisa, that will be fine.” Christine took off her own coat and hung it on a rack as Lisa slipped out of the office. Her brown hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, and she looked sharp in the sheriff’s uniform. She picked up the file Deputy Mitchell had pulled out of the cabinet. “No luck finding the camp from the helicopter?”

      Wyatt shook his head. “Not yet. Night searches allow us to look for lights in remote places. But we need to limit those. Don’t want to raise suspicions. Emmett and Tyler’s pictures are in every field office and resident agency in the Northwest, so he won’t get far once he decides to surface.