Once inside the sheriff’s department, Nic ran out of gas. He was accustomed to tapping into his internal resources when faced with fatigue. There had been times on the side of a mountain when he’d run out of steam. But, he’d always been able to close his eyes for two minutes and summon the strength to get the job done. Now, if he closed his eyes, he’d never open them. His chest and shoulder throbbed with every beat of his heart, and for a second he forgot where he was.
Julie had moved ahead of him and walked to the front desk. She started to speak, “We need to report a...” then turned to look uncertainly at Nic.
He stepped forward, leaning heavily on the counter, “A suicide.”
They spent the next half hour explaining the day’s events to the Undersheriff Bill Brogan; Sheriff Graff was on vacation in the Bahamas.
“So, why was this Davis guy going to kill you, Miss Galloway?” Brogan raised an eyebrow as he spoke.
Julie smiled patiently. “I told you, sir, he thought I saw the killer.”
“Of your family?”
“Yes.”
Nic interrupted. “Look, officer, if we’re going to get back to the cabin before the marmots eat the body, we ought to get going.”
Brogan cleared his throat and stood. “Of course, come with me. We’ll take a ride on out there.”
The room spun as Nic stood. He had to put both hands on the table to keep from pitching forward. He gulped air in an attempt to keep the curtain of darkness from descending.
“Nic!” Julie’s voice, far away. Another gulp of air.
“Do I need to call an ambulance, Mr. D’Onofrio?”
Nic shook his head. “No, just give me a minute.” The dizziness was subsiding.
“He was injured. He’s still weak,” Julie explained.
Nic just wished she’d shut up. Damn it, this was not the time to be less than a hundred percent.
Brogan led the way to the Blazer parked out back. Julie volunteered to sit up front and give directions, urging Nic to rest in the back seat. Nic didn’t have the strength to argue, though he had no intention of sleeping. His body, however, suddenly had other plans.
Another question from Brogan had Julie launching into the whole story of the past week. Nic couldn’t have spoken up if he’d tried. But before his eyes closed, he couldn’t stop the regret he felt from urging Julie to tell the truth. Keep your mouth shut and stay out of trouble might have been better advice.
Julie’s voice and hand on his good shoulder dragged him from sleep. “We’re here, Nic.”
Nic pulled himself from the car and tried to wake up. The cold air helped, but not much. Funny. Nic—every member of the special forces for that matter—was trained to take combat naps. It was a useful ability to put yourself into deep sleep for ten or fifteen minutes at a time and come out the other side rested and fully awake. And now, he’d been asleep for almost forty-five minutes, and he struggled to pull out of it.
Brogan approached the mound that still lay, thank God, covered by a blanket at the edge of the road leading to the cabin. The truck’s headlights illuminated, draining color from the scene. The car that Davis had arrived in was parked on the other side of the road. Brogan lifted the blanket and shined his flashlight on Davis’s waxy face. Stark black and white. Blood on ashen skin.
Nic and Julie had been leaning on the front of the Blazer, between the headlights. When Brogan lifted the blanket, Julie made a squeaking noise and looked away. Nic reached over and pulled her closer, leaning to whisper in her ear. But she withdrew before he could say anything, walking around to the back of the car. Nic followed.
She stopped, looking into the darkness, her arms crossed, shivering. Nic came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She laid her head back.
Pain tore through his shoulder, but Nic did his best not to flinch. He just hugged her tighter and buried his face in the soft, sweet scent of her hair. He closed his eyes, wishing all of this were over.
And then what? The police would find the bad guy, and Julie and Nic would live happily ever after? Nic’s eyes flew open at the thought. His mind traveling down the two-of-them-together road wasn’t the problem. The disturbing thing was that he’d actually used the phrase happily ever after.
Happily ever after was fine in and of itself. How many times had he and Joey talked about having a lady to share their lives with? Someone who would long for them when they were gone. Someone to long for. But happily-ever-afters came slow, after months or years. Not after just over a week, especially after a week in which the lady in question didn’t even know her name. There was easiness between them, yes. And intimacy like he’d never felt before. Nic smiled.
“Are they going to arrest us, Nic?”
Julie’s words interrupted his thoughts.
“I don’t know why they would.”
“The sheriff from Lassen County is coming to meet with us.”
“He is?”
“Yeah, Brogan called him on the way here. It sounded like he’s been looking for me. I didn’t want to sound paranoid so I just didn’t ask.”
“C’mon. Let’s get back in the car. It’s freezing out here. Get in back with me and I’ll keep you warm.”
Nic could feel her relax as she laughed. “In the back of the sheriff’s car?” Julie turned in his arms and fixed him with a suggestive look.
“The undersheriff’s car, baby. Only the undersheriff.”
Another deputy showed up a few minutes later. Brogan spoke quickly with him before getting into the car and starting the engine. “We’ll head back. My deputy will wait for DOJ.”
“DOJ?” Julie asked.
“Department of Justice. They help with local investigations.” Nic answered.
Julie sat up abruptly, looking from the undersheriff up front to Nic beside her. “I know what they do. I just didn’t realize...”
“Just protocol, Miss Galloway.” Brogan looked in his rear-view mirror, his eyes warm, compassionate.
“Oh.” Julie sat back again.
“Julie,” Nic whispered. “Close your eyes and relax. I’m going to sleep for a few minutes and you should, too.”
Julie started to argue, but Nic tightened his arm around her and, closing his eyes, shut her out.
He woke when they pulled into the sheriff’s department lot.
Brogan led them inside. On his way past the front desk he grabbed a clipboard and two report forms.
“I’m going to need you to fill out reports stating all that you told me earlier.” He led them down a short hallway and opened a door into a small room. “Miss Galloway, why don’t you go in here and get started? Mr. D’Onofrio can sit out here in the hallway.”
“Is that so we don’t cheat?” Julie’s voice oozed sarcasm.
“Exactly.” Brogan pulled the door shut behind Julie and pointed to the chairs in the hall. He handed Nic the clipboard and a pen. “If you need anything, just see the person at the front desk.” With that, he turned and walked a few doors down to an office on the other side of the hall.
If Nic could have switched to his left hand to write, he would have. Will Pitkin was ambidextrous. He’d often seen Will switch hands in mid-report when the first hand got tired. The throbbing in Nic’s chest and shoulder had developed into an ache that made his hand shake. He rubbed his shoulder and hand absently as he watched the front door to the sheriff’s department open.
A uniformed man strode through the doorway. He wore a white cowboy hat which he yanked off his head as he entered. The man was tall—probably not as tall as Nic—likely in his late fifties, and slim. His black cowboy boots echoed through the room as he walked.
Nic couldn’t see the woman at the front desk but he heard her greeting. “Good evening, Sheriff Raines. How are you tonight?”
The man didn’t slow his entrance, didn’t return the greeting. “Bill in his office?” His face set in a grim line. So, this was the guy who dead Doug had worked for, the guy who was apparently looking for Julie. That was enough to set off alarms with
in Nic. But there was something else about this man—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on—that made Nic want to stand guard at the door where Julie was.
The sheriff slammed into Brogan’s office. Before the door banged shut, Nic heard just enough of the conversation to know that the good sheriff wasn’t particularly thrilled that Brogan called the DOJ. Nic took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to quell the instinct to grab Julie and run.
Nic managed to finish his report before the door to Brogan’s office opened. He rubbed his shoulder, watching the sheriff and Brogan emerge. Brogan was all business as he led Raines, hat in hand, to Nic and introduced them. Nic stood and reached out to shake the man’s hand, flinching a bit when he did so.
“Mr. D’Onofrio.” Raines eyed Nic as he spoke. “Are you injured?” The sheriff’s grip tightened.
Nic refused to give him the satisfaction. “No. Why?”
The man smiled. “No reason. Glad it’s nothing.”
This guy was smooth. On the surface he was all concern, but his eyes held a sinister darkness. He watched Nic with the wariness of an enemy. He certainly seemed to have Brogan kissing his ass. The man nearly tripped over his own feet making way for a sheriff from another county.
Brogan’s words broke into Nic’s thoughts.
“Speaking of injuries, sir, how did you hurt your leg?” Brogan opened the door into the interrogation room, then stepped back to allow the sheriff to enter first.
Raines looked appalled at the question. “Old war wound,” he answered and swept past Brogan.
“Oh, I guess I never noticed before,” Brogan muttered as Nic, too, pushed past him to go stand beside Julie. She must have been pacing before they came in. Her report lay neatly on the table and her chair was pushed in.
“This is...” Brogan started.
“I know who this is.” Raines beamed at Julie. “Julie, I am so very glad that you’re safe. You have my condolences on the deaths in your family. I just wish we’d seen how distraught poor Patrick was when Jess died. Maybe we could have prevented... Well, enough of that. I’m so relieved that you are fine.”
The man was gushing. Nic expected him to burst into a chorus of Jesus Loves the Little Children.
“I do hope you’ll allow me to help you sort through all this. You’re welcome to ride back to town with me as well.” He turned to Brogan. “She is free to go, isn’t she, Brogan?”
That’s when it all came together. Raines’ questions about Nic’s injury, his limp, the way he schmoozed Julie. What had Davis said before shooting himself? That Julie had nearly broken the murderer’s knee with a kick? Yeah, Raines had been looking for Julie. No doubt about that. But it wasn’t so he could help her in her time of need. No, Nic knew without question what Raines wanted.
Julie…dead.
Chapter Fourteen