Standoff, page 13
“I know.” Especially the “and all” part.
“Okay, what happened?”
“Luke was driving, and . . . he swerved to miss a deer.”
Gary’s look said I-told-you-so. “Let me get something to write on.”
He crawled back in his vehicle to retrieve a notepad. When he was ready, she gave him an abbreviated version of the accident.
“Neither of you look as though you were hurt,” Gary said. “How’d you get wet?”
She hadn’t thought about her wet clothes. “I fell in that ditch,” she said, pointing behind her, “and Luke got wet helping me out.”
A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies. How many times had Daisy quoted Tennyson? Brooke took a breath. She couldn’t do it. “There was another car involved, might’ve scraped their front fender.”
“They didn’t stop and offer to help?” Gary sounded incredulous.
“No,” Luke said. “They kept going.”
Now was the time to tell Gary the whole truth. “There—”
“No need in me writing all this up. You can make out the report and shoot me a copy.”
Tell him. Before she could say anything, he turned and flashed his light over the Escape. Her heart hit triple digits again. While the wreck could have caused their windows to shatter, if he found a bullet hole, she would be in trouble and her credibility gone. But Gary seemed more interested in the front end and the radiator. Her heart slowed almost to normal when he hooked the flashlight on his belt.
“It’s not drivable,” he pronounced. “Want me to call AAA?”
“That’d be great,” Luke said, rubbing his right shoulder. Something she’d noticed him doing off and on all night.
Two hours later as the clock inched toward 1:00 a.m., the tow truck dropped her car in the driveway after swinging by Fort Rosalie to drop Luke off at his Jeep. He pulled in Daisy’s drive and walked across the yard as she handed the driver her credit card for the tow. Tonight had revealed a whole other side of Luke. The way he worked a situation—like at the hospital—he would never have done that when she knew him before. This definitely wasn’t the Luke she knew from years ago.
But what about herself. She hated lies, and on the ride back to town, she’d mulled over how easily she’d lied to Gary. And her attempt to correct it had only been half-hearted. That she was able to justify it only made it worse.
The tow driver cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little distracted.” She used her finger to sign the driver’s screen. “Thanks.”
The driver pocketed his phone. “You’re welcome. Next time you better watch those deer better.”
“We will,” Luke promised.
As the tow truck’s taillights disappeared around the corner, she said, “All this deception—it has to stop.”
31
It’s been a rough night. Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow?” Luke’s shoulder throbbed all the way down to his wrist, and he massaged his bicep. He should have known Brooke couldn’t fudge the line between truth and a lie. Working undercover was a good teacher.
She had questions. He could feel them. Somehow he had to put her off and get to Boudreaux’s hotel room. Just to cover all the bases.
“I’d rather get it out of the way now,” she said. “After I get a shower.”
He scanned the area. Everything looked normal, but they couldn’t continue to stand out in the open. “Then let’s talk about it inside, but first I’d like to check out your house, make sure you have no unwanted guests.” Or bugs, but he didn’t say that aloud.
She stiffened. “Excuse me, but I think I can check out my own house.”
“I’m the one with a gun, so humor me,” he said. “Besides, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“When I was in the tow truck, I didn’t see anyone following us,” she said.
“They wouldn’t have to—anyone could find out where you live.”
He thought she was going to refuse, and then she shrugged. “Okay, but let’s go in the back way.”
When they crossed under a bright security light, for a brief second he noticed how her damp clothes hugged her body, outlining her curves. Instantly he reminded himself that she had a boyfriend. Being thrown together in this case was not good. They rounded the back of the house, and she remotely raised the garage door from her key ring, revealing an empty space beside a Buick Regal. Luke nodded toward the Regal. “Your mom’s car?”
“Yeah. Dad’s truck is still at the sheriff’s department.”
He went in first after she unlocked the door, and once they were inside, he discreetly checked for bugs as he went from room to room. The house didn’t appear to be wired. “Okay if I hang around until you get cleaned up? Then you can lock up and set the alarm after I leave.”
She frowned. “I’m not some damsel in distress that you have to save. I can take care of myself.”
“I know that,” he said, “but it would make me feel better.”
“I give up!” She started down the hall and turned around. “If you’re staying, make yourself useful and brew some coffee. Everything you need is on the counter by the coffeepot.” Then she paused. “Unless making coffee interferes with your macho image.”
“No,” Luke said. He found the coffee filters while he waited for Brooke to turn the shower on. Then he speed-dialed Steve Jackson. “I need your help. Someone ran us off the road and took potshots at us tonight,” he said when his boss answered.
“Who is ‘us’?”
“Brooke Danvers.” Luke poured water in the drip coffeemaker and scooped coffee into the filter.
“John Danvers’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Luke . . .” Steve’s voice held a warning. “You’re supposed to be focused on the drug traffic.”
He couldn’t help it if trouble found him. “I know. Look, find out if there’s word on the street that I’m undercover.”
There was a brief silence, and then Steve said, “Tell me what happened.”
“It’s a long story. Brooke is taking a shower, and I won’t have time to relate all of it right now.”
“Hit the highlights.”
“Kyle Marlar was murdered tonight.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I don’t kid about anything like that. Someone shot him at Fort Rosalie. Then a little later Brooke and I were on the Trace when someone shot at us and ran us off the road. We managed to get away.”
“You think it was because you were compromised?”
“If I was, we’ll know for sure within the hour, but there may be another explanation.” Luke related what he and Brooke had discussed.
“She trusts you?”
His conscience squeezed him. “Yeah, she trusts me.”
Steve was quiet a moment. “How are you going to find out if your attacker was someone from Boudreaux’s organization?”
“I plan to confront him. If he thinks I’m a narc, he won’t be expecting that. And if he doesn’t suspect me, my righteous indignation should solidify my position.”
“Just be careful. We’ve worked too long on nailing Boudreaux to lose him now,” he said. “Do you know what Marlar told Brooke Danvers?”
“Some of it, but not all. Marlar mentioned her father, and he’d told me earlier John didn’t commit suicide. I believe he knew who did it.”
“The evidence—”
“I don’t care what the evidence shows, John Danvers did not kill himself. Have you gotten copies of the crime scene photos yet?”
“Yes. I’ll get them to you. But isn’t Brooke Danvers an interpretive ranger?”
“Last month she finished her LE training and was supposed to start field training with her dad next week. With the area short staffed, she’s been brought in on Marlar’s case before she completes her internship.”
“Does she know her father was investigating Boudreaux, and he asked you for help?”
“No.” The last thing he wanted was for Brooke to discover Luke had let her dad down.
“I’ll work on finding out if your cover is blown.”
“Thanks.” He planned to work on it as well.
“How about Sonny? Have you been in contact with him?”
Sonny was skittish. “Not yet. Any word on which law enforcement officers are in Boudreaux’s back pocket?”
“No, but we’re still investigating.”
“One more thing. Marlar’s camera may have something on it. He mentioned something about photos the last time I talked to him. The camera should be in Pete Nelson’s possession.”
“Got it.”
The bathroom door opened. “I have to go. I’ll call you in an hour. Until then, talk to your contacts in Natchez. See if anyone is talking about Kyle’s murder on the streets, and I’ll check with my sources,” he said and disconnected.
He was looking for creamer when Brooke entered the kitchen. She’d changed into leggings and a long top. With her wet hair pulled back in a ponytail she reminded him of the girl he’d kissed so long ago. He shook the thought off. Romantic thoughts of Brooke were the last thing he needed on his mind. She glanced at him, questions in her dark brown eyes. Definitely needed to avoid looking into those eyes he could drown in. Keep it casual. “Feel better?”
“Caffeine will make me feel even better.” She tugged at her ear. “I lost one of my favorite earrings tonight.”
“I’m afraid it’s probably gone forever.”
“Yeah.” She poured a cup of coffee before checking his empty mug. “Did you drink yours already?”
“Haven’t had any yet.” He turned and leaned his hip against the counter. “Couldn’t find the creamer.”
“You never used creamer before,” she said. “You always drank your coffee black.”
“Things change.” She remembered? He’d used the creamer line to cover why his cup was empty. He didn’t want her to question what he’d been doing while she was in the shower.
“That’s an understatement, but I don’t know why I’m surprised. Nothing else about you is the same,” she said and filled his cup. “Regardless, there isn’t any creamer. No one in this house uses it, although if I’d known you liked it, I would have bought some.”
“Would you?”
“Get back to me on that,” she said.
Luke bit back a grin and sipped the coffee, liking that it was strong. “This is pretty good black,” he said. Luke glanced around the kitchen. He hadn’t seen the house since John updated it and added more cabinets and modern features without downplaying its 1930s Craftsman charm.
“I like what your dad did here,” he said.
His phone alerted he had a text and he checked it. Steve.
You may want to rethink a meeting with Boudreaux tonight.
Nothing to rethink.
It will be risky.
Doing nothing is even riskier.
Be careful.
He definitely would, but first he had to get cleaned up and pick up his Glock.
Brooke was staring at him when he looked up. “Sorry, but I need to leave.”
“You have to meet someone?” she asked.
“Kind of.” He deleted Steve’s message. “Call me if you need anything and be sure to set the alarm.”
“Don’t worry, I will.” She followed him to the back door. “But who are you meeting this time of night?” Suddenly her face flushed and her eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness! Where you’re going is none of my business.”
The way her face colored and now she avoided his gaze . . . did she think he was going to see another woman? Briefly he thought about letting her believe that was his plan, but the flicker of disappointment in her eyes made it impossible. “I’m going to see a man about a job here in Natchez.”
It wasn’t a lie, but it was misleading and it bothered him. A first since he’d started working undercover.
Several emotions flitted across Brooke’s face before she corralled them. She would never make a good card player.
“Really?”
Was that hope in her voice? “Daisy isn’t getting any younger. In my line of work I can work as well in Natchez as Jackson.” Again not a lie, but not the truth. What was she doing to him? Maybe he should have let her believe he was seeing a woman.
“She would like that.”
Luke couldn’t explain why, but it was important for Brooke to think well of him. Maybe to cushion the blow if she found out he was working undercover. Scratch that thought. He had to make sure she didn’t discover that part of his life. He didn’t want to put her in more danger than she might already be in. Brooke’s cell phone rang, and he flinched.
She glanced at the screen. “It’s Dale. I need to take this.”
He lingered at the door. More than anything, he wanted to remind her about Kyle Marlar’s warning and to be careful what she told the district ranger. Instead, he said, “See you tomorrow.” On impulse, he hugged her. “Stay safe and set your alarm.”
32
Brooke caught Dale’s call just before it went to voice mail.
“Are you all right?” he demanded.
“Not sure how all right I am,” she replied, wincing as pain radiated from her neck to her shoulder. “But I’m alive.”
“I saw that I missed a call from you and when I couldn’t reach you, I started calling around and finally got Gary. He told me about your accident.”
“What’re you doing up at two in the morning?”
“Mary gets her days and nights mixed up sometimes. This is one of those times. What happened?”
“Hold on just a sec. I need to set the security alarm.” As she armed it, an internal battle warred within her. If she told Dale what actually happened, she wouldn’t be able to investigate the crime, but lying wasn’t in her nature. She wasn’t even good at social engineering. Then there was Kyle’s warning, but it couldn’t apply to Dale. She’d known the man most of her life.
Brooke pushed the lock button, and after it flashed red, indicating it was armed, she took a deep breath. “Someone fired at us and ran my Escape off the road.”
“What? That’s not what Gary reported.”
“I didn’t tell him what really happened. I didn’t think you would let me investigate it if I did.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Whoever ran us off the road meant to kill us. Luke thinks it’s tied to Kyle’s death.”
“You were with Luke Fereday? I didn’t realize you two were that close.”
She felt heat rising in her cheeks. “It’s not like that. I’ve known him forever—he used to stay with his grandmother next door during the summer.”
“I see,” he said, his voice tense. “Did you recognize the person in the other vehicle?”
“It was dark. I couldn’t see inside the vehicle. I only know it was an SUV.”
“How about Luke, did he see who it was?”
“No. And I couldn’t tell if it was one person or two.”
“I don’t like this, Brooke. First someone breaks into your house and now this. I think you should take a few days off, go visit your mom and sister in Knoxville.”
“No!” She couldn’t believe he’d suggested that. Or was it more than a suggestion. “You’re not taking me off Kyle Marlar’s case, are you?”
Silence answered her.
“Look, Dale,” she said. “I don’t know why these things happened, but no one is scaring me away from doing my job.”
A long breath sounded through the phone. “I’ll see you later this morning at the Port Gibson office, and we’ll discuss it further.”
He disconnected before she could respond. Not that she had anything to say that would counter his order. Brooke noticed she’d missed a text when she laid her phone on the charger and opened the app. Jeremy.
Sorry I had to leave, but I needed to put Molly to bed. You okay?
That was sweet of him. It was too late to respond now, but first thing in the morning she would give him a call. Then another text dinged on her phone and she checked it. Meghan, wanting to know how she was doing. Brooke certainly wasn’t telling her about being run off the road.
I’m fine, but what are you doing up this time of night?
Izzy won’t settle down.
She smiled. Meghan gave everyone a nickname, often calling her Brookie, but this was the first time she’d referred to Isabelle as Izzy.
I tried to call you earlier—got my DNA report today.
Mine hasn’t come yet. Any surprises?
Not that I can tell—I’m 45% Irish, 47% English and 8% European. I’ll scan the report and send it in the morning. Going back to bed now.
Sleep tight.
Meghan replied with a snoring emoji. Brooke put her phone back on charge and slipped into her pajamas. Her bedroom faced Daisy’s drive, and just before climbing into bed, she peeked through the blinds to see if Luke was home. The drive was empty. She frowned. It seemed an odd time to talk to someone about a job.
33
He walked around the SUV, examining the damage. Telltale white paint streaked the right fender. He fought the rising panic tightening his chest, clouding his mind. They both should be dead now, but they weren’t.
Maybe he shouldn’t have gone after them in the first place. Now they would be suspicious. Think. His mistake had been in focusing on Brooke Danvers. But his first impulse had been to wipe out anyone in contact with Marlar tonight. Forget about her. If she knew anything, she would have reported it. Focus on getting the photos Marlar had stashed somewhere. And getting the car repainted.
Memphis. That’s where he’d take the car for repair. He stared at the fender. Who was he kidding? The likelihood of getting the car to Memphis in the next few days was zero to none. Maybe he should just park it in the shed out back for now—he rarely drove the SUV, and no one would be the wiser.
A few minutes later, the vehicle was safely tucked away, and he’d remembered a friend who did body work on the side. It was the perfect solution. His friend wouldn’t get an alert to be on the lookout for a vehicle with white paint on the right front fender. And he wouldn’t ask a lot of nosy questions.
