Home > Body Heat (Dept 6 Hired Guns #2)(82)

Body Heat (Dept 6 Hired Guns #2)(82)
Author: Brenda Novak

She pulled out of his grasp. “There’s got to be a reason he’d go to the trouble and the expense of installing security,” she said. “We have to look around. There’s something here he doesn’t want anyone to see.”

“We’ll go to jail for breaking and entering if we don’t make a run for it now.”

The phone had already rung three times.

“Let’s go!” he insisted, but she dashed in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing?”

Sophia held up her hand for silence and did exactly what he was afraid she’d do—she picked up the handset. “Hello?…Yes. No, it’s nothing…. Mmm-hmm…. Sophia St. Claire. I’m chief of police here in Bordertown…. I received a call that someone with a flashlight was lurking around the building. My stepfather owns it, so I’ve got a key…. Place looks fine…. I don’t know the code, but there’s no need to wake him. Just take down my badge number and verify my identity through county dispatch. Sure, no problem….” She laughed, then gave her badge number. “Lucky for everyone, I happened to be just around the corner. That’s it…. Mmm-hmm…. Thanks.”

Because of the dark interior, Rod couldn’t make out her expression. “Did they buy it?”

She released her breath in an audible sigh. “I think so. The woman on the phone didn’t balk when I told her to check me out through dispatch. If I sold it right, she won’t even bother to do that much.”

The beam of her flashlight preceded her as she headed into the office, which was located between the actual shop and the storage area in back.

“What if she does?” he asked, following.

“It’d probably go fine—a simple ‘Yep, that badge number matches Chief St. Claire’s.’”

“And if she contacts Gary instead? I mean, he is the one paying for the service.”

She closed the door before switching on the light. “I’ll stick to my story, say I received a call that there was a man with a flashlight and I came to check it out.”

Rod set his flashlight aside. “Babe, you’re not even on duty tonight.”

“I’m still a police officer. I’d protect a Bordertown business day or night, even if I had to do it in my underwear.”

He’d started toward the file cabinets, but paused long enough to let his gaze range over the soft curves he’d enjoyed earlier. “Don’t distract me by talking dirty.”

She sat at the main desk and began digging through drawers. “I could distract you? At a time like this?” She had no idea. “I’d like to think I could keep my pants up if I wanted to.”

Sensing the power she held, she grinned as she dug through another drawer. “That wasn’t a firm declaration.”

“You’ve cost me a little confidence,” he said, thumbing through a stack of employee records and pay stubs. “So what are you going to say when they ask who told you about the flashlight?”

She had her head bent, which made it difficult to hear her. “I’ll say it was you. And you’ll stand behind me, right?”

“Will you still be in your underwear?”

“Forget I ever mentioned underwear. It was an exaggeration, okay?” She laughed despite the mad rush to cover as much territory as possible in the shortest amount of time. “And I need you to be able to think clearly.”

“I can think clearly,” he said, but it was a lie. He hadn’t been able to think clearly since he first saw her marching toward him at the crime scene and felt like the fifteen-year-old boy he’d once been. The one who’d had to keep his chin from hitting the ground every time she walked by.

Leonard turned off his headlights before slowly driving down the narrow alleyway behind the feed store. He parked his truck to one side of Trudy Dilspeth’s cubby of a house, which was situated above her two-bit hair salon. A single mother, Trudy did whatever she could to survive. She had four small children, by a variety of fathers, none of whom had hung around for long.

With a brood like that, she’d be in bed by now, and her darkened windows seemed to confirm it. Even if she wasn’t asleep, she was someone he could trust. She’d entertained him for years, once a month at fifty bucks a visit. He’d stop by and have his hair trimmed. Then they’d disappear into the room she kept for her massage clients and she’d wax his back before spending an extra fifteen minutes performing any other service he wanted.

She flirted with him constantly, trying to get him to come in more often. Being married, he’d tried to keep it to a minimum, but he’d sent her quite a few other clients over the years. So she wasn’t likely to get involved in a situation—like the one tonight—that didn’t concern her. That’d only deprive her children of what she was able to provide. She made far less cutting hair than doing what she did in the massage room—that was for damn sure. Besides, she had reason to be jealous of Sophia. She’d had her eye on Stuart Dunlap ever since she came to town. Once, she’d even hinted that she was pregnant by him. But nothing ever came of that. Leonard didn’t know if she’d miscarried or if Stuart had insisted she get an abortion. Probably the latter. No one as rich as Stuart wanted the town whore to be pregnant with his child.

The country-western station he’d been listening to as he drove went silent as soon as he killed the engine, but he sat in the quiet for a few more minutes, taking a moment to appreciate the peaceful evening. He loved hot summer nights. They carried him back to better times, when his wife was happy being married to him and his kids were running around the place barefoot and screaming like banshees.

He’d expected so much more from life, so much more than he’d gotten.

But it wasn’t too late. The fact that Sophia was being fired meant his luck was finally changing. And he was all set up for it to keep changing. He already had two council members who were eager to see him take the helm. With Gary and some of the ranchers behind him, too, he’d make a comeback.

Taking his rifle from behind the seat, where he’d hidden several guns, he jammed his cowboy hat on his head, pulling it low to conceal as much of his face as possible, and lit a cigarette. He didn’t usually smoke. Only when he wanted to feel like a Clint Eastwood type. And only when he needed the calming effect of the nicotine.

After a couple of drags, he let the cigarette dangle between his lips and stalked toward the back of the feed store.

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