“Look,” she said finally, leaning back against the counter and gripping it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “You’ve probably seen a lot of things that never cross the desk in a sheriff’s office in a smaller town, okay?”
Duke closed his eyes, feeling fury rising until his gorge rose with it. It pounded through his head, throbbed painfully in his chest, and he really, really needed to smash something.
He couldn’t do that. Not now, not here. He drew several breaths, steadying himself. When he opened his eyes, he saw Cat still leaning against the counter, but now she looked stricken.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have reminded you.”
She still didn’t relax. He ought to get out of here now, before he made it worse for her. He remained glued to his seat anyway. The rage had subsided just enough for him to carry on. Maybe he needed to run another ten miles. The road called to him.
She spoke, her voice still tight. “I’m okay. But I just revealed too much, didn’t I?”
“Only that his death was messy.” But there was more to it than that. He was certain now. And he still needed to work out the fury. “Can I use your weights?”
“Of course.” Her eyes looked dull.
The whole thing was ripping at her, he thought. All of it. Maybe in ways that didn’t occur to him because she was a cop.
Then she straightened and poured the rest of her beer down the sink. “The office is down the hall, second door on the right. Look around, find what you need. I’m going to bed.”
He’d been dismissed, and he was glad of it. Neither of them could take much more of this tonight.
Chapter Seven
In the morning, the sun burst from the east and painted the world in pink and gold light. High cirrus clouds turned into beautiful streamers of color against a sky turning deep blue.
It should have been a good morning to be alive, Cat thought as she drove to the sheriff’s office. She had no idea what Duke planned to do that day. He hadn’t emerged from bed yet, maybe because he’d pumped iron for a long time last night.
She didn’t care. Except she did. This whole situation had begun to feel like her brain was on a hamster wheel, running around from one notion to the next.
Okay, so she didn’t want to care. Fine. Too late.
Last night hadn’t helped one thing that she could tell. She’d been cast back into the horrible hours after she and Guy Redwing had found Larry. She could tell that Duke had connected the dots, and that was her fault. She didn’t feel good about it, either.
She had tossed and turned for a long time, hearing the occasional clank of iron plates from the basement. At least that had been a momentary diversion from her grim thoughts. She had eventually fallen asleep to the punctuation of that clanging.
She had no idea how much sleep she had gotten, but this morning her eyes felt sandy, and even though she drank two glasses of water, her throat felt parched.
When she parked at the sheriff’s office, she considered heading to the diner for a morning latte. Yeah, why not? Better than being tempted to drink Velma’s acidic brew.
Ten minutes later, coffee in hand, she walked into the office. She’d worn her uniform this morning, and she was struck by how much more secure she felt inside it. Maybe that was a hang-up all its own.
Inside, her fellow officers greeted her, and when she asked Velma about Gage, Velma pointed down the hall. The sheriff’s office must be open for business this morning.
Gage was, as usual, behind stacks of paper and the computer he sometimes cussed because it couldn’t read his mind. A common problem with machines.
Gage looked up immediately and waved her to a seat. “How’s it going?”
“I’m asking you,” Cat replied. “And I think I slipped up last night and let Major Duke know that his brother’s death had been messy.”
“The understatement of the year.” Gage leaned back, his chair creaking.
“You need some oil,” she remarked.
“I need a better chair. Thing is, I know all the problems with this one and how to adjust myself. A new chair would be a whole new learning experience.”
She laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Or maybe I’m just resistant to change.”
“Not that I’ve noticed, at least not when it comes to something important.”
He nodded, his dark eyes still trained on her. “What’s up?”
“I want to know about the Larry Duke case, and about the burglary two days after.”
One of Gage’s eyebrows lifted. “Why?”
“Because I need to know more than what I saw when I arrived on scene. Because I need to give Duke some additional information. Because I need to know where we’re at, what I can share and if I need to keep him away from something. Right now I’m wearing blinders.”
He nodded, then winced as he leaned forward to put his elbows on the desk. He picked up a pencil and tapped it lightly, one of his favorite thinking poses.
“I get it,” he said after a moment. “But why the second burglary?”
“There’s always the possibility of a connection of some kind. The homeowners were out of town, right?”
“True.”
“So maybe they’re still alive because they weren’t there.”
Gage sighed. “Yeah. It’s crossed my mind. Maybe most everyone’s.”
“See why I need to be clued in? No point in me running over things the rest of you have already considered.”
He tapped the pencil more rapidly. “I’m going to have to trust you when it comes to sharing with Duke.” He wasn’t asking.
“Yes, but you know me well enough by now. I’ve been a cop for over ten years. I get the point of keeping investigations close to the vest.”
“I know. I know.” He dropped the pencil and once again leaned back. This time he didn’t grimace.
