Ranger's Baby, page 7
“Sheriff Barron,” the 911 dispatcher ducked her head out the door, wearing her headset with the microphone shoved to one side. “We have a call from a woman about a bear in her yard. Her Yorkie is out there with it. She’s afraid the bear will eat the Yorkie. Game warden is out on another call. Can you handle it?”
The sheriff grimaced. “I don’t know. Do we have anymore bear spray?”
“Look in the storage closet behind the floor cleaner,” she said and ducked her head back into her office.
The sheriff turned toward Fiona. “Leave Wally to me,” he said with a stern look.
Fiona didn’t respond.
With a sigh, the sheriff turned toward the storage closet. “I might as well be talking to a brick wall. Don’t get yourself killed. I don’t have time for the paperwork.”
Fiona spun and headed for the exit.
“We’re going to Wally’s place, aren’t we?” Duncan asked from behind her.
“Yup.”
“Does he still live in the trailer park out by the old quarry?”
“Yup again,” she said, pushing through the door. She didn’t hold it for him, letting it close in his face.
Chapter 7
Duncan reached the SUV before Fiona, opened the door and stood in her way. “Perhaps I should drive.”
She looked up at him with one eyebrow cocked. “Fine. I’d rather have both my hands free anyway, in case I have to fire my weapon.”
Duncan frowned. “On second thought, you drive.” He’d rather be the one to fire the shot if that became necessary. He wouldn’t hesitate for a second if Fiona’s life was on the line.
She shrugged. “Either way, I don’t care. I just want to talk to Wally.” She muttered something else he couldn’t make out but sounded suspiciously like, “and beat the crap out of him for what he did.”
His lips twitching, Duncan hurried around the SUV and dropped into the passenger seat. “Shouldn’t you be in your uniform to arrest Wally?”
“I have a badge. He knows where I work. What more do I need?”
“A warrant or something?”
“We have the fingerprints on the butcher knives. That’s my warrant.” She shifted into reverse, backed out of her parking space in front of the sheriff’s office and drove out onto Main Street.
A few minutes later, they were headed northwest on one of the smaller county roads toward the quarry where a company harvested gravel and base material for road projects.
A small community had been established three decades earlier of now dilapidated mobile homes that had seen better days.
Weeds grew around the cement blocks and dry-rotted tires holding up the trailers. Old cars rested on rusted jacks, their engines and wheels having been scavenged for parts.
With the sun dropping down below the ridgeline of the Crazy Mountains, dusk was settling in early, and the riffraff had gathered around a campfire ringed by gray mountain stones. Some smoked, others held cans or bottles of beer.
As Fiona pulled her SUV to a stop on the road, several of the men standing around straightened, their eyes narrowing.
Duncan hopped out of the car before Fiona had shifted into park. He bit down hard on the inside of his lip as he put all his weight on his bad leg. Pain shot up his thigh, but he fought to show no weakness in front of the rough looking group.
He focused on the men he knew from his school days. “Boyd, Johnny, Arlin.” He nodded at each as he spoke his name. “Good to see you.”
Boyd lifted his chin. “Duncan. What brings you out to these parts? I thought you’d be looking for your old man.”
“I have been, but I’m looking for someone else right now.”
All the gazes watching him narrowed and shifted as Fiona stepped out of the SUV.
Men who’d been sitting on tattered lawn chairs or tree stumps pushed to their feet.
One of the big guys, wearing a flannel shirt and dirty jeans stood, crossing his ham-hock-thick arms. “What is she doing here?”
Fiona didn’t back down. “Boyd, how’s community service going for you?” she asked, planting her fists on her hips.
Duncan almost laughed as the Valkyrie in Fiona came out in force.
The big guy snorted, and his eyes narrowed even more, but he didn’t make another comment.
“We ain’t done nothin’ what warrants a visit from the deputy,” Johnny said and threw his cigarette at Fiona’s feet.
“How’s your wife, Johnny?” Fiona stepped on the burning butt, dropping her arms to her side, her voice low and concerned. “Has she been using her nebulizer for her asthma?”
Johnny hesitated before he nodded and shot a glance toward the other men standing around. “She ain’t had another attack since I quit smokin’ in the house, like you said.”
“Glad to hear it. She was in a bad way the other night when we took her to the clinic.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked at the ground, refusing to meet the gazes of the other men.
“What do you want, Deputy?” Arlin said.
“Someone trashed my house around six thirty this morning. I’m willing to forgive and forget, but I want to know why and whether I can expect it to happen again.”
Duncan studied the men as they looked at each other accusingly. It was clear they hadn’t heard about the break-in. They weren’t the ones responsible.
“It weren’t me, Deputy,” Johnny said.
“Did you do it?” Boyd asked Arlin.
Arlin spit on the ground at Boyd’s feet. “Hell, no. I don’t pick on girls, like some of you do.”
Boyd’s fists clenched. “I sure as hell didn’t.”
Another man Duncan recognized as Skeeter Jones shook his head. “You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree. None of us done it.”
“I didn’t say any of you did it. But one of the residents of this fine community did.” Fiona lifted her chin, her tone hardening. “And we have a match on the fingerprints from the knife he threw at me.”
“Who was it,” Johnny asked. “We’ll take care of him.”
Arlin stepped toward Johnny. “You ain’t gonna take care of nothin’. We don’t turn on our own here.”
“If someone’s trying to kill the deputy, who’s to say he won’t try to slit our throats if given half a chance?” Johnny reasoned. “You gonna trust someone like that to sleep in the trailer next to yours?”
“Shut up, Johnny,” Boyd said. “Or someone will slit your throat for talking too much.” He turned to Fiona. “Who did you say it was that tried to kill you?”
“I’m looking for Wally Bing,” Fiona said. “I understand he lives in one of the trailers.”
“He does, but he’s not here,” Arlin said. “Guess you’ll have to come back when he is.”
“Do you mind showing us which trailer it is he lives in?” Duncan asked.
Boyd shrugged. “Last one on the left. Watch out on the steps. Some of them have rotted through.” He sank down on the stump he’d been sitting on before they’d arrived and tossed back a swig of beer.
Duncan cupped Fiona’s elbow. “Come on.”
She pulled her arm free and faced the men. “Thank you,” she said, her tone even, her face gentle as if she understood how men could become so desperate. Then she turned and walked beside Duncan to the trailer at the end with the rotting steps.
Careful not to put too much weight on the broken slats, Duncan climbed the steps and knocked on the door of the single-wide, forty-foot trailer that had probably been assembled in the 1970s. The aluminum siding had long since faded to a dull gray and was peeling upward where it had been dented. The door had a yellowed window with a tattered curtain covering it.
Duncan knocked on the door and waited to the side. If the man was inside and decided to start a shooting war against the person knocking, Duncan didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the bullets.
No one answered.
Duncan gripped the door handle.
“What are you doing?” Fiona whispered.
“Going to see if he’s inside.” Duncan twisted the knob and pulled on the door.
It didn’t open.
Fiona let go of a rush of air. “It’s locked. He’s not home. Let’s go.” She started to turn.
Duncan twisted and gave it a hard jerk.
The door opened and a stench like nothing Fiona had ever smelled before wafted out. She stepped backward and covered her mouth. “Holy crap. What is that smell?”
Duncan reached inside and flipped on the light switch. No lights came on. “Looks like he didn’t pay his electric bill.” He dug in his pocket for his keychain and held it up to the darkness On the end of the keychain he had a miniature flashlight. He pushed the button, and the room lit up enough so they could see inside.
The place was a mess with dirty clothes lying on the rotted floor and Styrofoam food boxes left lying on surfaces piled with trash.
Duncan pulled his T-shirt over his nose and stepped inside. “Wally, if you’re in here, you might as well come out,” he called out.
“Duncan, he’s not here. Let’s go.”
“I’ll be right out,” he said and stepped over a pair of worn out boots and a dumbbell lying in the middle of the floor. At the back of the trailer was a bedroom completely filled with an old bed and a nasty, stained mattress. And it was empty other than a tattered, dirty blanket lying in a heap.
Fiona had said the man who’d trashed her place had worn all black and a black ski mask. Duncan didn’t see any signs of either in the trash piled on every surface. He backed out of the trailer, stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him firmly, before he dropped the front of his shirt and sucked in a deep breath of fresh air.
Fiona waved for him, shooting nervous glances around. “Get down here.”
Duncan ignored the stairs and jumped off the porch to the ground beside Fiona, landing with a grimace, his bad leg giving slightly.
She grabbed his arm and led him away from the trailer. “Did you see anything?”
“So, you’ll break the rules with your boss but not with the law?”
“Of course. I’m in law enforcement. I can’t go around breaking the law,” she said in a harsh whisper.
Duncan grinned. “You can’t, but I can.”
“And if I were being a good deputy, I’d arrest you right now.”
“So, you’ll break the law for the right person?” He grinned and waved toward the men still sitting around the fire. “Good to see you guys. If you see Wally, tell him we’re looking for him.”
Darkness had settled over the valley, with only the faint glow of receding sunshine still shining over the ridges of the Crazy Mountains.
Duncan held the door for Fiona to climb in behind the wheel. Then he rounded the car and got in on the other side. “Drive, sweetheart. I’m not sure how much longer those gentlemen will behave themselves.”
Fiona shifted into gear and drove away from the trailer community and back out onto highway.
“Where to now?” he asked, glad that encounter was over.
“The Faulkners’ place,” Fiona said.
“No.” Duncan shook his head. “Not at night. You need broad daylight to confront that lot.”
“I need to find Wally. I need to know who put him up to what he did.”
“You have to know it was the Faulkners.”
“I know,” she said, her shoulders slumping. “And I know you’re right. Confronting them on their turf at night isn’t a good idea.”
Duncan reached over and touched her arm. “Then, babe, don’t do it.”
She drew in a long, deep breath and let it out slowly as she pulled onto the highway leading into Eagle Rock. “Okay. It’ll wait until tomorrow. We’ll find Wally and get the truth out of him. Right now, I want to get back to the ranch before Caity goes down for the night. I need my snuggle time with my baby.”
Duncan’s heart swelled at the sound of longing in Fiona’s voice. She loved their baby.
He already loved Caity, and he hadn’t known her long.
Fiona increased their speed, sending the old SUV down the road in a hurry to get back to Iron Horse Ranch and Caity.
They rounded a corner in the road and nearly hit something lying in the road.
At the last minute, Fiona swerved to avoid the large lump and ran off the pavement onto the shoulder. She brought the vehicle to a halt and took her hands from the wheel.
In the light from the dash, Duncan could see that her hands were shaking.
“What was that?” he asked, turning in his seat to look back.
“I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling.” She gripped the steering wheel and made a U-turn in the road, careful to watch for headlights of any oncoming vehicles. When her SUV faced the opposite direction with its headlights shining on the lump in the road, she gasped.
Duncan’s stomach lurched. He threw open the door, jumped out and ran toward the object.
Lying in the middle of the road was the body of a man who’d apparently been run over.
Duncan moved the man enough to press his fingers to the base of his throat.
He tried several times but couldn’t find a pulse.
Fiona knelt beside him. “Is he?”
He nodded. “Dead.”
Fiona held a radio in her hand. She pressed the button on the side and spoke into the mic. “Ellen, send the coroner.” She gave their location. “And notify Sheriff Barron…we found Wally Bing. He’s dead.”
So much for getting home to hug their baby.
Over an hour later, they were still sorting through the crime scene. Fiona had set out flares on either end of the curve in the road to slow traffic. She directed cars and trucks around the body until the sheriff and the ambulance arrived. After they’d taken pictures of the scene, Wally’s body was loaded into the ambulance and taken to the coroner’s office in Bozeman.
By that time, it was getting late.
Fiona and Duncan had filled in the sheriff on their visit to the trailer park near the quarry.
“You two might as well go home,” the sheriff said. “Nothing more we can do here tonight.”
“What about talking to the Faulkners?” Fiona asked.
Duncan shook his head, but he didn’t have to.
Sheriff Barron said, “It’ll wait until morning. Anyone visiting them at night has a death wish.”
“But if they did this, they need to be brought to justice,” Fiona argued. “Sooner than later.”
“I agree. But I plan to live to see my next birthday, which, by the way, is two weeks from today, and I like pie versus cake. But what I mean is, they know the hills better than anyone, and they would have the advantage, especially in the dark.”
Fiona nodded. “I know you’re right. Duncan said the same thing. I’m just fed up with them getting away with murder. We have to find that flashlight. Mark Faulkner should be in jail for life.”
“Hopefully the coroner can provide evidence we can use to nail the bastard.”
“What are the chances of nailing them for a hit and run?” Fiona’s mouth twisted. “It was probably dark out here when it happened. There were no eyewitnesses.”
“There’s the possibility of finding DNA evidence on whatever vehicle hit him,” the sheriff said.
Fiona snorted. “If we find it before they wash away the evidence, which they seem to excel at. Which means, getting to them tonight.”
“We’re not going tonight,” the sheriff said, his tone firm, his face set in stone.
“Fine. First thing tomorrow morning, then.” Fiona drew in a breath and let it out.
Duncan cupped her elbow. “Can we go home now? I just learned today that I have a baby girl. I’d like to see her.”
Fiona gave him a weak smile. “We’re going home.” She let him lead her to the SUV and even let him take the driver’s seat.
Duncan liked the way home sounded on Fiona’s lips. He liked that he was going home with her to see their daughter. More than that, he wished it was permanent. How would he convince his friend of so many years that he wanted to be more than friends?
He wasn’t sure where to start, but he had to do it. For Caity. For Fiona. For himself.
Chapter 8
Mentally and physically drained, Fiona dragged her feet up the steps into the house. Duncan’s warm hand on her arm gave her strength, and the thought of seeing Caity made her push forward when she wanted to drop to the floor and go to sleep there.
As a sheriff’s deputy, she’d been exposed to many different situations, from loose livestock to murder victims. The dead bodies always took their toll on her emotionally, which took its toll on her physically.
Having Duncan by her side through it had been a godsend. She’d never tell him that. She was a trained deputy. Everything that had happened that night had been what she was expected to handle whenever and wherever it occurred. Normally, she did and went home to Caity, tired but determined to power through for the sake of her small family.
Perhaps having Duncan there made her weak, made her lean on him more than she should. Or was it the emotional turmoil of loving him and knowing he didn’t love her in return that was draining her energy?
She suspected it was a combination of everything.
Duncan’s mother met them in the living room, a frown furrowing her brow. “You two must be exhausted. Caity’s upstairs with Molly, who’s getting her bath before she goes to bed. You have time to eat before she’s out of the tub. Come straight to the kitchen. I have a roast warming in the oven.”
Fiona’s stomach rumbled despite the fact she’d been with a dead body recently. She realized she hadn’t had anything to eat that day.
Hell, had it only been a day?
She felt is if she’d lived through a week in that one day. From the break-in, to the big reveal to Duncan, to confronting a trailer park full of belligerent men and, finally, a dead suspect in the road, it had been a very eventful day.
Add the fact she’d gotten less than four hours of sleep. No wonder she was tired.
She followed Mrs. McKinnon to the kitchen, with Duncan trailing behind her.
Voices carried down the hallway before they arrived at the large, farm kitchen.
